#TriathlonTuesday: Cat-Calling

What's up guys? Well, given that its a Tuesday and I was struck by inspiration, here I am! Today I want to talk about cat-calling. Now, for those of you who don't know, by "Cat-Calling," I mean any random yelling at a passerby.

Generally this is done by a yeller (who may or may not be physically attracted to a yellee) as the yeller passes the yellee. It is my personal belief that the yeller feels some sort of anonymity, since the yelling is often done from a car or at the very least from a significant distance. I'd even go further to say that most yellers, when face to face with a yellee, would remain mysteriously silent. That's right, whatever the yeller had to say is not so important that he/she would say it "in person." In other words, most yellers are just casual people who are struck by the need to yell, and not necessarily knowledge-filled gurus.

This is a practice I have never fully understood in any form, although I've rarely had to worry about it since I'm generally not on the receiving end.

Now for some reason as a triathlete I have encountered this problem a lot more frequently. That's right, I get yelled at. On the pool deck, on the bike, or while running, people seem to think its ok to yell at me. Sure, I understand speedos, cycling kits, and split shorts are not your typical attire, and a yeller might feel the need to make me a yellee and inform me that he/she thinks I look weird. The fact is, I'm just doing my job... leave me the F@*# alone!

Ok, ok, sure. I hear your argument; "Sam, you're running shirtless along a busy street, and you happen to have about 6% body fat." I realize that this makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Let me address these "offenses" one at a time.

Sure, I'm pretty lean. As it happens, I train my ass off (literally) to be the the best athlete I can be. I don't do this for looks, although its a nice bonus... just ask Rachel! The fact is I wasn't always this way. Buried deeply in me is the fat middle schooler who got bullied, and I still have to remind myself sometimes that I am not him anymore. So, I'm sorry if my tall, thin frame bothers your insecurities, but I'm still working on my own, so please don't yell at me.

Second of all, I live near Midtown Omaha. All the streets within a 10 mile radius are reasonably well-trafficked, and I'm not going to drive in my car 20 minutes just so I can run on a quiet road by myself and thus not offend your fear of skinny shirtless white guys. Its not like I'm running on Dodge street here... Besides, none of you people said anything all winter when I was stomping up this neighborhood in 3 layers, so just continue to leave me alone now as the weather warms up!

Finally, I could leave my shirt on to make you feel better about your beer gut. I could swim in trunks to not offend your pasty praying-mantis legs. But what is this, Saudi Arabia? No! And quite frankly, I don't care how it makes you feel when you see me training. I'm not any more worried about you than you should be worried about me, I'm focused on what I'm doing. Speedos allow me to swim faster! Split shorts allow me to run faster! And the no-shirt, well, its hot out and I don't want tan lines... there ya go, a little vanity on my part...

Since I generally can't understand what you say while blowing past me in your Dodge Ram with dual rear tires, mud flaps, and 6 inch muffler tips (all of which you totally need in downtown Omaha), and since you never stop to allow me to respond, here are my canned responses to your cat-calls. Please read and pass along to other yellers.

1. "Nice body/You're hot/I want you in some form": Since most yellers are either dudes or underage girls, I'm flattered but I'm REALLY not interested. Plus, I like my girlfriend a lot.
2. "Nice shorts/tights/speedo" : This is pretty much my work uniform. Do you want me to come into your place of work and make fun of your ugly-ass polo shirt with the Applebee's logo on the chest?? No. Good job on the employment though, I hear they have great benefits... #RubyTuesday4Life
3. "Get off the road!": Actually, its illegal to ride your bike on the sidewalk in most metropolitan areas. Just think of me as a smaller piece of farm equipment. I'm much easier to pass!
4. "Insert derogatory phrase": GET BACK HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE YOU SORRY-@$$-CHICKEN-$#!+-MOTHER#@*&#%!!!!!! 

...Sorry about that. Generally speaking, if you yell at me from your car window halfway through my threshold hill rep, you will be met with hostility on my part. That is because your fellow motorists and yellers have conditioned me to believe your yelling at me is an act of hostility. If you are a friend, maybe just wave... let's be honest I'm not going to know who you are anyway...

The only form of cat-calling I will acknowledge as dignified is clanging a cowbell out your window as you pass. Other than that, please refrain. I'm not asking you to go out of your way for me, in fact I'm asking you to not go out of your way to yell at me! By all means, follow the pace rabbit, just don't yell at him! 

March Racing

Well, March happened before I even knew what hit me. I raced 4 times (5 if you count the Super Sprint Relay) travelled all over the deep south, experienced spring break in Mexico, turned 26, got my own health insurance (Thanks a lot, Obama...) and definitely didn't do anything very productive!

Rather than bore you all with race reports on every race, I will provide you with the bullet points of the races, and next I'll give you a list of the Top-10 best things I ate in the month of March. For your reading pleasure;

• March 1st was my season opener in Clermont, Florida. It was a draft-legal, Pan-Am Cup sprint race.
• The field was pretty stout, and this race is always a bit of a shit-show (pardon my language) 
• I had a decent showing, finishing better than last year in 29th. The important thing here is that I am clearly learning how to put together complete races.
• There were a few glaring mistakes (slow swim, over-biked), and a few strong points (good positioning, fast transitions)
• The whole next week I spent in Florida training. I've realized that I need to invest in some good training partners. Riding, running, and swimming with Brian MacArthur (B-Mac) Brandon Nied (Beenie) Alex Libin (The Russian Princess) Eric Lagerstrom (Nordic Thunder) and John O'neill (The Baby Giraffe) was a pleasure... Sorry boys, you don't get to pick your nicknames when I'm writing!
• Until the boys and I can all get a sweet house together in North Carolina or something, I will be taking applications for Omaha training partners!
• Shout-Out to our wonderful home-stay family, the Daughertys. A beautiful home, a well-stocked fridge, and a couple awesome dogs and you've got 5 happy triathletes! Thank you so much for everything! #TeamDaugherty 
• March 8th was the Pan-Am cup sprint in Sarasota. 
• I'd gone down on the bike the day before the race, and I think that affected my mindset more than it should have.
• Swim started out strong, but I got dunked by a large, smelly French dude. Again, this affected me much more than it should have.
• I wound up 32nd. Now, bear in mind this was basically a World-Cup level start list, and being that I am a swimmer, if I have a bad swim it doesn't bode well for my race. I did have a strong run though. Back to the drawing board!
• March 22nd was the Pan-Am Cup in La Paz, Mexico. I hadn't planned on doing this, but the boys talked me into it. 
• I found myself renting a car and driving across the Baja Peninsula... which is not even the sketchiest thing I've ever done before. 
• The race was blisteringly hot, and I was not prepared for that. Nor do I feel was I prepared for an Olympic triathlon in general.
• I was in the lead group out of the water, but in a Mexican bike pack, being the only gringo means you'll be attacked repeatedly until the rest of the field catches you. 
• In Mexico, the bike packs only go fast after the big gringo goes down... Remember kids, HOLD YOUR  LINES ON YOUR CORNERS! 
• I melted on the run. 19th place. Ugly.
• Cabo San Lucas on spring break is exactly what you'd expect it to be like. 
• The next week was the New Orleans 5150. I drove down with Rachel, Erin Dolan, and her mom.
• 16 hours is a long time to spend in a car
• New Orleans is a lot like the third world; Tragic poverty stands next to extravagant luxury, all with the back-drop of idyllic beauty... And the roads are shit...
• The race was pretty ugly over all, but I had a solid result in spite of that. Lets be honest, the field was as soft as the Huskers defense.
• The swim was the choppiest I've ever experienced. Seriously, worse than the Pacific. The group all stayed together.
• The bike was windy, and a 40k TT takes a lot different kind of fitness than a draft-legal bike leg.
• If you feel like you ran a 34, you probably ran a 36. 9th place is only disappointing when you could've been first.
• The French Quarter is one of the few things in life that is not hyped up enough. Everybody says its crazy... Nobody tells you its random-guy-passed-out-in-a-gutter-of-a-strip-club-while-people-make-out-in-the-street-at-8-o'clock-on-a-typical-Saturday-crazy. Vegas has nothing on New Orleans.

This crazy month of March racing would not have been possible without the help of a few certain people. HUGE thanks to;

The Daugherty Family

The Boys (as listed above... remember, what happens in Cabo, stays in Cabo)

My wonderful parents

Tom and Mikki Tye

Leo V. and Prairie Life Fitness

Moxie Multisport

Coach Zane

As always, my loving, patient, and beautiful girlfriend, Rachel.

Well, that sums it up for ya! Now that I'm 26 and a mature adult, I'm going to be timely in getting my next blog post out... but I'll still laugh when I fart... Anyway, look for the March Food Blog later today. Until then FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!