In the Pink

The Race: The inaugural Queen of the Hill Women's Triathlon, Mullica Hill, NJ
The Distances: 1/4 mile swim, 10 mile bike, 5k run
Best quote from an official: "You ladies all know how to swim, right?"

You might think that this being their first time organizing a race and all, the ladies of the Mullica Hill tri club might keep it simple. Stick to the basics. And you'd be so wrong.

A couple minutes after the trumpet player serenaded us at the swim start with the Rocky theme, three planes soared over the lake in a military salute. The post-race party included a tower of mini pink-frosted cupcakes, topped with candy high heels, purses and other edible decorations.* At the award ceremony, the winner was provided with a robe and tiara, and a special throne to sit in while she was showered with victory champagne. Second and third place ("the Queen's Court") received flowers and sashes. Just like Miss America!

In between all that fun, of course, there was a race.

I rolled my bike into transition and through a sea of hot-pink singlets--the Mullica Hill Women's Tri Club, many of whom would be contesting their first-ever triathlon. I was immediately buoyed by their energy and enthusiasm--and by the realization that not a soul here would care that my handlebar wrap was secured with duct tape.

I assure you, Mr. Gilman, that I took a personal
interest in respecting my comrades.

The swim venue, Lake Gilman, was a feat of endurance in and of itself. "This used to be a forest," an elderly gentleman volunteer told me. "Miles Gilman chopped down all the trees by hand." Sadly, the lake's creator is no longer living, but he left his word behind for us to enjoy.

I also took a personal interest in the mirror beside
the Porta Potty.

You may now feel free to address me as Courtesan.

The bike and run took place on the type of scenic farm roads that Jersey is should be known for.

All in all, it was a successful day. The sun shone brightly. Money was raised for ovarian cancer. A bunch of women accomplished something they'd never done before. And when the last athlete finished, there were still some cupcakes left.**

*You just don't get that at a co-ed tri.
**A phenomenon also unique to women's tris.

Science Proves I'm Not a Freak

On May 14, 1607, a group of 104 men and boys landed on an island in Virginia’s Tidewater region, to establish a new British colony. By January, no more than 40 settlers remained. Many colonists had died of disease. Turns out they’d built their fort on a mosquito-ridden swamp.

Each fall, thousands of people continue to colonize this swamp. They are called college freshman, and some time ago, I was one of them. Of course, swamp living has come a long way since the 17th century, for we now have modern conveniences such as mosquito repellent and snow cones. And air conditioning, should your university choose to provide it.

Mine didn’t.

My freshman roommate and I were bemoaning this fact on one particularly stifling August night, as we attempted to go to sleep in our extra-long twin beds. Unfortunately, the only thing in our 10x11 cell that wasn’t sweating, burning, melting or wilting was the frosty six-pack of soda* in our mini-fridge.

And that, my friends, was the night I first tried (sleeping with) Coke. 

With the help of a few strategically placed cans, we were soon both off to dreamland. But when we shared our amazing brilliance with our hall mates the next morning, the universal reaction was something along the lines of  “You guys are weird.”

A decade later, however, some scientists at the University of Pittsburgh have discovered that we were on to something. It seems that when insomnia patients were given a special cooling cap set to 57 degrees, they slept more restoratively.

The results are preliminary (i.e. not peer-reviewed) and the cap is not yet on the market, but in the meantime, my colleagues over at Rodale.com have come up with some more practical ways to cool your head.

Still, never underestimate the power of a cold Coke in the armpit.

*No, seriously, it was.