In these tough economic times, can a girl still tri?

Let's get one thing clear---it kind of sucks right now. Every evening I drive home from work listening to KGO and it stressed me out. One huge company is making layoffs, a big percentage of people are underwater on their mortgages, the state budget is wack, consumer spending is down...where is the good news?

I am feeling the pennies being pinched as well---less than a year of home ownership under my belt in this crazy economy and now I have to look around to see what corners can be cut. Which means, limiting trips to Banana Republic and Ann Taylor Loft and trying to ween myself off of Pureology's hair crack, I mean conditioner. I even asked hubby if he would consider coloring my hair from now on.

"I mean," I said, "It costs me like 90 bucks to highlight it every 6 weeks (though admittedly I push it to the max 9-10 weeks until I feel totally root-y tutti and the natural brown is at odds with the blond streaks). Plus, I am sure you can find out how to do it on-line and you are such a perfectionist it would come out amazing. I mean, look at the kitty condo."

Operation Kitty Condo is a shining example of how my husband doesn't do anything half-a**ed. We wanted to get a kitty, but he is allergic to cats and with a one bedroom one bath town home, there isn't really room for a cat to escape or have a litter box area. Thus, Operation Kitty Condo (OKC) was born. For much of December and January hubby (with help from his father) built an enclosed platform in the garage that a kitty could access from a kitty door in the kitchen. The platform is large enough to hold a litter box, kitty bed, food water and other accoutrements. Plus, the lattice enclosure lets the kitty have air, but not free reign of the garage (read: get footprints all over hubby's boxster or take naps in clean laundry I was too lazy to take upstairs). OKC also included installing a new (fire safe) garage door, and installing doors at the bottom of the stairs so kitty will not have access to the upstairs which will be a kitty-free zone for allergy-prone hubby to seek refuge. OKC was a major operation that took over our living room and had so many trip to Home Depot that it is now worth more than the blue book value of my busted up 94 Nissan Sentra.

It is actually a pretty amazing thing that hubby built, and his attention to detail secretly makes me hope he never gets into triathloning. For me, Triathlon is an obvious sport of choice because I can do lots of things at once and not burn myself out on the boredom of one sport. For hubby, I thnk he would go overboard with learning about each sport (cadence, swim drills, tempo runs, fartleks, tapering, hydrating) and it would be too much to handle. This is also why he doesn't get into wine, otherwise he would probably start building a wine cellar on our patio.

So, where was I? Oh yeah, homemade highlights. So, hubby mulled over the "highlighting his wife at home" idea.

"I bet it isn't that hard and I can probably buy on-line the chemicals they use in the salon."

"Yeah, and then you can learn how to, like, wax my eyebrows."

I pretty much lost him after that suggestion. I guess the idea of violently ripping hair off my face does not appeal to him. Oh well.

So, I will keep the buying cute tops to a bare minimum and continue my salon visits. Man, I couldn't imagine it if I was a high-maintainance girl who required regular pore extractions and manicures. The only reasons I pedicure is to have someone else cut my toenails and slough off my running-induced callouses.

But, the real question is: in these tough economic times, can a girl still tri?

Triathlons are a ridiculously expensive sport. With running you just need shoes. Swimming you need a cap, goggles and suit. Cycling you need bike, helmet, gloves, hideous padded shorts, and cycling shoes. Throw the three sports together and toss in energy bars and race entry fees that range from 60-300 bucks, and you've got yourself a sport that seems blatantly at odds with the financial crisis of 2009.

But, my salon visits and triathlons are things I will not compromise in these times. I won't race as many races as I did last year, but I think that the benefits of the tri far outweigh the negatives. In times like this when everything is upsidedown and uncertain, it is refreshing to have a goal that is constant. You sign up for a race and spend your free time training for it. The race happens and you go on to your next race. It is riculously logical, but challenging enough to not be boring.

I found triathlons when I was in a fragile state: I was a manager in a mortgage company experiencing the most gruesome part of the subprime meltdown of 2007. Rates were constantly going up as loan amounts went down and brokers were pledging their undying hatred of me. As a manager of account managers, I was the one brokers asked to talk to so they could blame someone for their customer's rate soaring to 13% after one unfortunate rate hike. Mind you, I wasn't the one who made the rates go up, but I was the last person in the office a broker had to go through to complain about how much our company sucked. Our office closed about a month after that time.

I found and loved triathlons because it was such a refreshing contrast to the greedy, slick and hasty mortgage industry. It was something totally selfish to do: concentrate my time and efforts to finish a race I had no dreams or delusions of winning.

Every single race I have done has taught me something. My first triathlon taught me what the sport is all about. When I did the LA Triathlon I was amazed that I could swim almost a mile in the ocean without having a Jaws-induced panick attack. Barb's triathlon taught me that failing at something you work hard at is always a possibility. Finishing the Big Kahuna two months later made me realize that failing once doesn't mean you give up forever.

In these uncertain times, everyone needs something like a triathlon to keep them grounded, hopepful, and less jaded in this world that seems to be in a constant state of suck. What can I say? Endorphins are my therapy.