Tuesday, May 19, 2009

I Dressed Myself

Even though my first tri is over a month away, I continue to obsess about gear and fantasize about going fast. After taking inventory of my various clothing options I decided I needed a new race top. I had considered a full suit, but I like my Pearl Izumi tri-shorts and I have heard it's much easier to pee when you are wearing a top and shorts. (In a past life as a terrible inline racer I had a couple of full suits and they always reeked - don't need to go back there - "there" being inline skating and a stinky full suit.)

After much shopping and consideration of features and benefits (ie - good color) I settled on the 2XU Comp Tri Singlet in Dark Red. I tend to pick red as it is a little easier for my family to pick me out of a crowd of white, black and blue. Oh, and it makes me look super hot. (It actually doesn't make any difference, I am just delusional.) Now to determine size. Ideally, I would probably wear a large, but the large race shirts I have had in the past are too baggy by the end of the race and bunch under my wetsuit and if I decide I don't want to use my wetsuit I couldn't swim in them. I went out to Gear West to try on the large and medium because they are the only place in Minneapolis that I know of that carries 2XU. (No - they didn't have it in red, I looked. Blue and white.) The large fit comfortably but I was still concerned it would "bag out" after awhile. I tried on the medium. 

Now, when I say, "I tried on the medium" I really mean I struggled into a sausage casing. However, once I got it on, it was comfortable and nothing oozed out embarrassingly and I could zip it. (The magic of lycra.) Medium it is.

This was weeks ago and I finally got around to pulling the trigger on buying this thing. This stuff is not cheap, as I am sure everyone is aware. You don't want to make a mistake and be stuck with something you will never wear again after you wear it once and decide you hate it. (And when I say "you" I really mean "I" or "me", but I digress.)

Hold on, I know you are all thinking (as I am) who fricking cares about you buying a race top. BFD! Trust me, it gets slightly more amusing from here. (The anticipation is palpable, isn' it?)

I ordered a 2XU Comp Tri Singlet Dark Red size medium from Triathlete Sports on the interweb. (That is not an endorsement of Triathlete Sports as it is the only thing I have ordered from them and it went off without a hitch - so maybe it is an endorsement.) It came yesterday in the mail and being the complete dork I have always been, I had to try it on right away.

I snuck my package up to the bathroom (This post is for about my tri-top, right? Not my submission to Penthouse Forum - would not want to get those two confused - my mother reads this blog. BTW - I have never sent anything into any porno mags, don't read any porno mags, don't even know where they are sold. Is my defensiveness making me sound guilty? Whoa, off on another tangent.)

So, up in the bathroom. I pull out my small red scrap of fabric and start to second guess my decision. That thing looks small. 

This is a picture of the new top lying on top of a size large t-shirt that I ran in this morning. And it's not a generous large either.

I unzip the front and proceed to squirm my way into the arm holes and through the neck hole. Things quickly went awry. As I am getting the shirt over my head and shoulders it starts to roll and is now a stretchy, tightly rolled rope cinched around my upper chest. (In case you are not aware, I have a massive chest. I am sorry, that waa lie.) So now I can't get my arms down to pull the front of the shirt down and I can't get my arms back to pull the shirt back over my head and off. I am stuck!

How the hell am I going to get in, or out, of this? 

I look at myself in the mirror. Shake my head and laugh a little as I realize I am getting tunnel vision from the lack of blood circulation. I have to get this thing on or off! And there is no way in hell I can call my wife! First of all, embarrassing and second of all, she wants little to nothing to do with my fitness obsession or any of the trappings that go along with it. After some struggling to get my arms down I am able to grip the rolled shirt enough to stretch it past my chest. (I think the sweat I was working up might have helped as well.) Now I have another "issue" - chest hair. I am not an overly hairy guy but I do havchest hair. (Yes, manscaping is probably in order.) Well, my chest hair is now getting wound up in the rolled up fabric and being slowly and torturously ripped out. The faster I get this thing on the better. 

I think I ripped off a nipple along with some hair. Oooh, that stings like the dickens.

I manned up and pulled the fricking thing down. Whew! Done. 

I look at myself in the mirror. I zip up the rather over stressed zipper and proceed to rip out more chest hair.

Over stressed zipper. And a frighteningly hairy chest. (Sorry to all the children and adults and small animals who just ran screaming from the room. It doesn't bite. Trust me.)

"Hey," I think to myself, "this is comfortable and very slimming. I just really need to do something about the tuft of chest hair sticking out at the top of the zipper. Ugh."

Nice tuft of hair. Ever heard of waxing? Jeeze!

I did a couple of pirouettes in the mirror. Looking over the right shoulder, then the left shoulder - good, no back fat oozing out, just lean rippling muscle under the palest skin in Minnesota. (There wasn't really any lean rippling muscle, another lie, sorry.)

Hey, hey good rookin'! Slimming. Good color.

Alright, that is enough alone time in the bathroom. Luckily, my wife is no longer phased by my excessively long stints in the bathroom. (It takes a lot of time and effort to look this good.) So, I unzipped ("Ouch, hair") and reached down to pull the shirt over my head in one swift pull. Good theory, very poor execution. 

The back of the shirt rolled up on me again and is now resting across my shoulders while the bottom front of the shirt is wedged securely under my pecs and ripping out still more hair. I reach back over my head to grab the lycra rope that the shirt has become yet again and it is so tight I can not pull it over my head. I am afraid I am going to pull a muscle in my shoulder trying to get this damn shirt off. I work more on the front and am able to wriggle it up without rolling and that relieves some of the pressure off my shoulders. I wrestle the front up as high as I can on my chest and then I am able to reach back over my head and wrench the damn thing down in front of me and off. 

About to black out, again, due to strangulation by too-tight shirt.

All told - a 25 minute ordeal. 

Now I am exhausted, sore, sweaty, alone in the bathroom, breathing heavy and top-less. Thank god no one walked in. 

The verdict? It looked so good on - I'm gonna keep it. Now, off to yoga so I can get the damn thing on and off without passing out or injuring myself.


Charisa said...

PHOTOS!!! Where are the photos of this ordeal?! Classic!

Mike said...

This is really good stuff, very humorous, well written, makes me want to come back for more. With that said, I'm on board with the previous commenter. They say a picture tells a thousand words. Can you the 2XU another shot and take your camera along this time?

Mary said...

OMG OMG OMG...you didn't. No, you clearly did. I am laughing my ass off. The pictures are so much better then what I had in my head this morning while you were telling the tail on our run.

nicely done.

Natalie said...

OMG! That is hilarious! I can't believe you posted photos too! I love it! Don't forget to get up an extra 1/2 hour early before your race!

Question Authority. said...

I'm having flashbacks of what my life was like every morning during my sophomore year in college.

Roo said...

Two things:
1- Thank god that thing has a zipper.
2- Aren't you happy you didn't buy a full suit? It would really suck having to get back into that thing in a portapot.

Mrs. Surly said...

Holy crap that is awesome.