Making Cramp-ade

The interval/power workout Saturday left my legs pretty sore Sunday morning. I could tell Saturday night that an old hammy strain was back, its way up high at the origin point underneath my glute. I feel it sort of where the old wives tale tells young ladies to hold a pencil horizontal.

The hilly 40 we rode Sunday morning took a pounding on the strain and I was cramping and seizing hard driving out to the lake for a swim. The Machine, Hardcore, John and I decided to swim 4 laps around the buoy's for 2.4 miles. I got one lap done and as I round the buoy to head back into the canyon it felt like someone grabbed my leg and pulled me underwater. The cramp was massive.

So I limped in towards the shore and hung out on the cliff wall for a few minutes. I had a terrific veiw of the traffic and it was never ending. If I saw 400 motorcycles I saw 1. Groups of 20,30 or more riding into Tortilla Flats. The boater's were also out. I counted five within a couple hundred yards of the bridge we swim under. It made tacking a whole new game.

So I am sitting there on the rocks, the spasm's subsiding and getting drawn towards a boat in the middle of the swim zone we use. A HUGE 42 foot Sea Ray with a 28 inch flat screen over the galley door leading below. This older couple was cranking a dvd of an old, like mid-70's Styx concert. Great music. Well its sort of on the way over to the gear so I stroke over and the lady, see's me coming their way.

I stop a few feet from the fantail and yell up to her, "Is this Lake Havasu?" She replys, "No, it's Canyon Lake." I yell back, "Damn this isn't where I wanted to be for Spring Break." She laughs and we start a decent conversation with her and her husband. Great people. They are normal folks with an inkling about triathlon and uber-inpressed with Ironman distance stuff.

A few minutes into the conversation while I am treading water my hammy starts to get tight so I ask, "Is there a beer on board for tired swimmer?" "Sure, permission to come about sweety, you must be exhausted, let me get you a cold one."

So there I am in my wetsuit with neophrene cap, standing on the fantail of this $135,000 boat, a quarter through my Bush Light charming the crap outta these folks, listening to classic Styx, when John and Hardcore happen to swim by just a few yards from me. Hardcore takes a breath, looks up and just about swallows the lake when I raise my beer to him and ask how the water is. John see's me and looks incredulis. They keep going.

After about twenty minutes, The Machine is done with his swim, 56 minutes BTW, the bastard, and is lounging where I was before boarding The Wolverine, (aka the name of the big ass boat I'm drinking beer on) and decide its time to part company. I thank them for the beverage, replace my goggles and do my best "last man in the pool" jump.

After everyone finished we all had a big laugh since it was such a funny site. But like I told them and I tell everyone, You Gotta Have Fun. Drinking a beer was a lot more fun than sulking around with a cramped hammy waiting for everyone else to get done.

When life gives you cramps, make cramp-ade.