The burr in my saddle...

I started today's post about something totally different...well not totally...but let's just say I wasn't going to go here...but here I am and it's what's weighing most on my mind right now. so here it is... And I know I'm going to get crap from my honey and Weasel Boy for posting about this but I'm hoping to exorcise the demons here, one last time, in an effort to let it all go. It's a complete waste of my precious energy. Consider it one step closer to enlightenment...or one step further from adult maturity. Sorry guys... skip to the * if you don't want to hear a lame ass hissy fit...

You see, there's this person, whose very presence makes my blood boil. I used to work with him...we'll call him...Tic...because that's what happens to me any time he's in my presence...I tic and twitch and itch with discomfort because he bothers me so much. I could go on (and often have) for HOURS on all the reasons why I think he's so horrible. But the truth is, he makes a fantastic first impression...and in fact, it took me more than 3 years to realize what lies beneath...I bought it, hook line and sinker...and I hate myself for it in so many ways. So now when I see him laying it on thick with other people and acting all...the way he acts...I just want to go pull the curtain back and reveal him for the gigantic fake that he is.

He is:
- Classist
- Eliteist
- Sexist - On MANY occasions, he'd refer to us as "the girls," obviously forgetting that we were RUNNING HIS FREAKIN' BUSINESS for him...I kid you not, once he asked me how to "make the numbers stop swirling around" his computer screen... duh, dude - wiggle the freakin' mouse so the screen saver turns off...
- Misogynistic - see sexist, classist, eliteist...
- I can play "The Name Game" with the best of 'em...been around a lot of people in my life and have an uncanny memory for names and faces... but I don't drop names to get attention or impress people. Ever.
- He was in the Marines and boasts about it frequently...but neglects to tell you that it was ROTC and he didn't do much more than go to the officers club...and correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought Marines needed to know how to swim...at least a little bit? My cousin is a Marine. He spent time in Iraq. He's the real deal...and he hardly ever talks about his experiences there...

He is all these things underneath the surface, and yet he comes across as a nice guy who you think has respect for you and what you do and know...and in general, he's a perfect fake. It makes. ME. CRAZY.

I no longer work with Tic, thankfully. He's the reason I left my last job and never looked back. Life would continue on it's merry way and in a perfect world, I would have absolutely NOTHING to do with him....except for one little thing.

He has joined my swim team.

My place of refuge. My arena of success. My world away from work thoughts. The place where I go to be with friends, teammates, athletes.

It's like being 15 and having your weirdo uncle show up for tryouts to the cheerleading squad. To legitimately try out.

My swim coach, being the fantastic, awesome, welcoming person that she is, of course has no choice but to welcome any new swimmers. And it's not MY team...anyone can and should join. I would never expect her to exclude anyone... I've talked to her about Tic - in fact she's known for a long time that Tic and I worked together because I GAVE HIM HER NUMBER back when I thought he was a decent human being. He took private lessons with her for almost a year before joining the team. She knows how I feel, she understands, she knows that I realize that I'm being a little bit immature, and she knows that I know that she can't discourage him. For a long time, she thought he would never join but he has...and it looks like he's here to stay. We recently got coach a gift - all of us chipped in $6 each...and all of us signed the card, including him. But he never chipped in his part...and I know this because I ORGANIZED IT and collected money from almost 50 other people. It's all about LOOKING like he's walking the walk and talking the talk.

At practice I pretend I don't know him. I don't make eye contact, I don't go near him, and I work really hard to swim fast enough to stay at least two lanes away from the lane of shame where he is the slowest swimmer WITH the fins he wears the whole time. He follows my lead and doesn't typically attempt conversation. I know this is a waste of energy. I know it. But I can't get beyond it. I want to. It just seems like the only thing that will help me is if he leaves. And he's not one to leave - I guarantee you when he was at his ivy league college playing sports, he sure didn't play much but you can bet he was the first one there every day and the last one to leave every night and he did the best job that any bench warmer could ever do. The one the coach feels bad about not playing because he's so dedicated to the team... but the reality is, he's only on the team so he can wear the jacket and say he's on the team. It's all about status for him, not about swimming. I know this because I watched it emerge over 5 years. But no one else can tell he's a complete fake. And now he wants to try a triathlon. This community is just too damn small. I don't WANT my refuge space, my outlet for my depression and stress, to include him. He was the cause of so much of that crap...

Anyway... I'm sure I need to grow up and just move on...use my energy for things that are way more productive than despising Tic. I'm just not there yet. I'm not sure what it's gonna take for me... I suppose for now I'll just focus on swimming faster to stay as far away from him as possible...and thank the goddess that he's not in the locker room with me...

*

On a lighter, happier note, I had a good 2 hour run on Saturday and an AMAZING run yesterday. On Saturday, the rain held off until the last 20 minutes...I managed a little over 8 miles in two hours...there was about 5 minutes of walking after the first loop around the lake while I drank some gatorade and I also walked the last 5 mintues to change muscle groups a bit. My quads were kinda sore on Sunday but were fine by yesterday...

And yesterday was 3.5 miles but I told Weasel Boy I felt like I had rockets on my feet. You know that light, empty feeling you get...not hungry, perfectly fueled and hydrated, well rested with no aches and pains....and you can push in any direction and your body listens... I haven't had a run like that in almost a month and it was a welcome reminder that my body can and will listen if only I can be patient, do the work, and take the needed rest. Here are the numbers:

Warmup: 3:38, avg. HR 123 (60%)
Mile 1 - 11:56, avg HR 138 (68%) (I had to take my jacket off and then had iPod issues so there was some walking)
Mile 2 - 11:05, avg. HR 146 (70%)
Mile 3 - 11:02, avg. HR 149 (74%)
To Finish - same distance as warmup: 3:15, avg HR 155 (80%)
Warmdown walking
Total time: 40:88, avg. HR 143 (70%)

I haven't seen numbers like this since last season... it's time to up the LSD pace and this is a great start for me. I'm totally looking forward to my fartlek run on Thursday evening... KG and I are thinking about going over to the track - can't wait.

This week's Song of the Week is up - dedicated to my friend Scott who has all kinds of positive stuff going on...Keep it up dude - your momentum is contagious!!!

Stay dry...we're drowning in the puddles up here in the northeast...and thanks for reading my little (ok, not so little) hissy fit... ;)