This might be a two-parter, because right now i am not sure i have the capacity to accurately convey all that occurred on this momentous, tumultuous day.
We left home before first light.. roads were total crap: ice, snow, more ice - you name it. Thank god I had the presence of mind to put my winter tires on last week. The windshield wipers were another matter - but when you weigh SEEING the road with STAYING on the road I think we can all agree which one is preferable.
The closer we got to Montreal, the sweatier our palms got (try driving with slimy hands, I dare you), the more we felt like we were in the midst of menopause, the more our hearts raced. We'd both had interrupted sleep, nausea and cramps. UGH. Welcome to the world of the fit test. Cutting through the wide expanse of farmland, where the wind blows like you would not believe, we started sliding. Thankfully, we stayed on track, but others were not so lucky. I'm not sure how many cars were in the ditch on that one murderous stretch, but it was enough to muster several fire trucks and ambulances to the rescue.
As we approached the city we've totally come to adore, the mood in the car changed perceptibly. G seems to deal with stress with jokes and giggles, I just stop communicating.
"You've gone quiet."
Nod.
"You're getting stressed."
Nod.
"OMG I'm getting all slimy."
Nod.
"I might just explode!"
"Please not all over my leather seats. That would be gross."
And so on.
Once we got to the gym we made short work of stripping off our many outdoor layers and getting to the serious business of warming up. It was 8:20am... we were supposed to start testing at 8:30am. OK, ten minutes was good. G walked on the treadmill. Me, still strapped into my stylish black plastic boot, well I was limited to either one erg or the other (rowing or paddling). So I did both. Then we both did a bunch of reps on the bench with just the bar. We felt decent. OK. Let's start this sucker and get it over with.
First, the weigh in. Somehow I managed to get myself first in line. I hopped on the scale, and OH BOY. When you're used to doing things in pounds and then you need to do them in kilos [and your math skills are less than stellar] well, strap in baby it's gonna be a fun ride.
"Are you helping?" G teased from behind me.
"60, 70, that's 75..."
"Now that everyone knows how much you weigh..."
"No that's not right..."
"Oh forget it, we'll do it in pounds" said the weighing moderator/controller.
Phew. Yay I was 5lbs lighter than last time! (Not an easy feat when you're packing on muscle let me tell you, especially with one foot out of action on top of it!)
OK, off to the dreaded bench press.
8:30 - no coach.
8:35 - no coach.
Well shit.
"Oh, ladies, we need to do the weighing in again. We need it in kilos [for the paddling erg]."
Well double shit.
8:40 - no coach.
OK back to the rowing machine. Don't let your body cool down.
"We'll give him 5 minutes and if he's still not here then, we'll start."
"Screw that, if he's not here we go home, and we get amazing scores by default."
8:45 - no coach. We didn't leave, of course. We started.
..... TO BE CONTINUED (where the bodily harm part will be explained)....
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