‘nother erg, lessons in boy meets girl, & my new pal Ingrid

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written at Museum!Co while waiting for a file… :sigh:

Southern migration
I was headed to San Diego on Friday for a meeting, and allowed HelloKittyRowerFriend to convince me that hey, I should stick around and do the Indoor Classic on the erg the next day.
On the one hand, omfg what was I thinking saying I’d 2k two weekends in a row.
On the other hand, the only way out is through.

It was all right – the split was more consistent throughout, and I dropped a half second off my avg split from last week. < girl TMI alert> Unfortunately it was the first day of my period, which for me usually involved a sore lower back to begin with.< /girl TMI alert> Add in the fact that the erg wasn’t in a stable setup, so every time I got to the finish it kinda went “BoooOOOooonnnnGGGG…”, and my already kinda jacked lower back was pretty much wrecked. I’d taken two Advil an hour before the piece due to my aforementioned ChickIssues, and 45 min afterwards I walked up to one of the coaches for the place & asked, “So… where do you guys hide the Tylenol?”

I’m going to go through the 2k erg cycle that Coach Ian uses again just to see what I can get myself down to. I refuse to end the season with a 1:54.2 as my avg split. Eff that, man. Eff. That.

When all else fails, lord knows I’ve got a mouth…
One of the fun things that I did that day was end up coxing a couple of people. As someone that has been with me since our very first day in Learn to Row together, HelloKittyRowerFriend is aware of the…. motivational power my style of coaching offers, and had already asked me to cox her for her race. I ended up coxing another of the women from our team that was down, and two of the SDRC juniors afterwards. Even G, the guy that taught me to row, was saying afterwards, “I’m going to have you come down the next time we 2k & help us out…” What can I say – I’ve got a coswain voice in an engine room body. :shrug:

Honestly, my favorite was the junior boy that I coached for my last run of the day. I sat down behind him & asked, “Hey man, what’s your name?”
“um, John…”
“Hi John, my name is Claris, and I’ll be your cox for this 2k. What split are you shooting for?”
“Oh, dude – that’s no problem. I pulled that this morning. You can totally do that.”

The girls told me later that it was mean of me to say that to the six-foot tall 16 year old boy, until I pointed out that it could have been worse – I could have said, “I’m injured and I pulled that this morning.” heh.

Oh right, I almost forgot – Guys like you don’t date girls like me. Thanks for the reminder.
So there was the cute guy. And I got the vibe of “hey…” from him, so while I was hesitant at first, I slowly decided, “Okay, yeah, hey.” Even Hoff asked, “Dude, what’s going on there? Because something’s going on there.” And I shrugged & went, “I dunno – I’d totally say yes, but after the last couple years I’ve had, he’s gonna have to be the one to ask, ’cause I just don’t have it in me anymore.”

He is, in some ways, like a previous mistake I’d made, but I’d decided I wasn’t going to hold superficial similarities against someone completely unrelated to previous mistake, because he was nice, and I liked talking to him, and I shouldn’t spend my life afraid to move on, right? Right. Totally. Completely logical – if Oprah were here, she’d be like, Having The Crying Moment because of my Growth As A Person or something.

… and then you walk in to a social sitch, meet the girl that’s staying at his house for the weekend, and he spends the whole time talking your tiny cute blond friend who weighs under 135, and you think, “Yeah, never mind — you’re just like the last two guys that I was stupid enough to take seriously.”

’cause you know what? No matter how nice they act, or what they say, or what your friends tell you – at the end of the day, when the chips are down, guys don’t choose girls like me.
They choose the cute little blond. I’m just the girl they flirt with so they can feel like they’re still “got it”, or because they’re looking to get a little sompin’ sompin’ on the side because they’ve discovered the cute little blond is a pain in the ass.
And then, when they discover that hey, I’m not actually the girl that’s going to help you cheat on your wife/girlfriend/fiancee/chickthatyou’vespentyearscarryingatorchfor… well then they get pissed off at you for having a semblance of morality, and you find yourself labelled a whore, kicked out of rowing clubs for things you didn’t do, and blackballed from working as coach not because you did something wrong, but because you wouldn’t give it up to a guy that was looking to screw around.

Of course, ya know, this is all just hypothetical, & certainly nothing that has ever actually happened to me — because if any of it had happened, someone might have to actually take responsibility for their actions, and we just don’t do that in rowing, so everything is just me being paranoid and overly dramatic. Clearly.

And I realize that makes me sound bitter and jaded, and all the things that we as women are told we’re not supposed to be, but you can only have it happen so many times until you gotta just be realistic and admit that hey – I’m not tiny, I’m not cute, I’m not pleasing in a myriad of social situations because I just never learned the things that I didn’t realize I’m supposed to know, so at the end of the day… I’m not the girl guys ask out. More than anything else, that’s what I’ve learned about guys, and I’ve yet to meet anyone to disprove said lessons from my past.

Which is why, after once again seeing the variables which have the potential to be aligned to put me in the same damn formula which inevitably ends with a value of Claris=ScrewedOver the last two times we tried to run that sequence — well, that’s when you walk out of an apartment one Sunday afternoon & you say to your friends, “…and I’m good, thanks.”

Because guys like that? Yeah, they don’t date girls like me.

Gaiam.com, Inc

Things I’m lovin’ at the moment:
The Chain – Ingrid Michaelson

Got the “Be OK” album earlier last week, and this is one is hands down one of my favorites off the album. I highly recommend aquiring it for your very own.

Core Power Yoga
Hoff’s roomie Sam took us to yoga class with him on Sunday morning, which was great — we went to Core Power Yoga, which I really liked, which is saying something ’cause when it comes to fitness facilities, my experience working in them has made me a picky, picky b*tch.
It’s actually been a couple years since I’ve done an actual yoga class — I’d learned enough working at Amerisports that I’ve been able to self-maintain for the last couple years. Admittedly, there were a lot of people, but the class itself was really great. It was the first time I’d tried yoga with the heat jacked up in the room (can’t really use the thermostat that way in my apartment doncha know) and yeah…I am a sweaty, sweaty beast. On the way home when I had to stop at Target for dog food, I picked up one of the yoga towels for next time. HelloKittyRowerFriend had the same reaction I did, since she was also all, “I feel bad giving them the loan mat back after I sweat on it that much.”

HelloKittyRowerFriend & I looked at the site this morning, & yay! They’re opening a couple of studios in West LA & down by Long Beach which is rockin’, and we both were looking at the yoga retreats — I’m partial to the one in Oregon in Sept. since I could also invade Closet Buffyholic. (finally!)

Music: Oh What Day – Ingrid Michaelson Be OK - Ingrid Michaelson

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  • http://www.candlemarkandgleam.com Kate

    Can’t say I’ve had the “blackballed out of coaching/the club” issue with Guys Like That before, but everything else you said – EVERYTHING – is the same over here. Augh. Guys like that don’t date girls like us, and that’s pants, man.

    God, I’m glad I gave up on guys like that and wound up with a small, fuzzy German man who resembles a wombat. Much more sanity in that package, I’ll tell ya. I got lucky.

  • Pingback: to the pain, canine kryptonite, & a perfectly healthy fear of unfiled paperwork. | HeroineAddict.me

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