Tall Tara

Are billboards really an effective marketing tool anymore?

Well, if you’re considering doing meth and happen to be living in Wyoming or Montana, my guess is that you might have second thoughts after seeing these.

(And of course, my jokes are going to be totally inappropriate, so if you’re on meth while reading this, then I am flat out making fun of you. But then again, if you’re on meth while reading this, there are probably many other things going on in your life to be worried about other than my feeble attempts at humor. Also, if you’re on meth while reading this, you won’t be able to fully understand my feeble attempts at humor because there will be bugs crawling all over the computer screen.)

With that, away we go on the fun ride known as public service billboards, courtesy of the Wyoming Meth Project. Anyone who has spent time driving through the open expanses of Wyoming and Montana will understand why I had to blog about these.

The reason that you’re not worried about lipstick is because they just don’t make a good shade to match teeth rot. But might I suggest some quality chapstick and a local dentist?

Just in case you had confused tequila with meth. Because tequila actually will help you hook up. But maybe not with that haircut.

Wait…you mean things go downhill after you pretend to make out with yourself? On a side note, this looks like my back after I’ve spent a summer afternoon wearing a tank top and fighting off mosquitoes.

Actually, there might a few folks out there hoping to get lucky in a jail cell. Dim the lights, whisper some sweet nothings…you never know what might happen. It doesn’t sound as bad as some of the first dates I’ve been on.

Unless this is your high school bathroom. And your prom date confused tequila with meth. Again.

Let me just remind you that meth is not a joking matter.

These billboards however?

Comedy gold.

The Fort Collins Triathlon was the second of the summer. I had so much fun doing the Longmont Tri that it seemed a no-brainer to do another.

However, I did something a little different with this race registration. While filling out the online entry form, I looked to see if they offered an Athena and Clydesdale division.

For those that don’t know, Athena and Clydesdale are the nice terms for the larger men and women competing in the race. Men have to be over 200 lbs, while women need to be over 150 lbs. In big races, you have to weigh in prior to the triathlon to make sure that you actually qualify for these divisions.

[I think the men got the short end of the stick on the naming of these categories but for the record, Peter Shankman is proud to be a Clydesdale, so I'm going to rock the Athena designation. It could be worse.]

Race day came and there were never any official weigh-ins.  I had too many other things to think about and was just excited for the event. The swim went well, I kicked ass on the bike and felt strong going into the run, as evidenced below…

Crooked is the new black when it comes to tri skirts.

I finished in good time and was happy with my performance. After the race, I was sitting around with my crazy triathlete friends (who had talked me into racing in the first place), drinking well-deserved beer and eating hot dogs.In the background, I heard age group winners being awarded.

I’m halfway through with my hot dog when the announcer mentioned something about Athenas. Since I held no hopes of winning, I thought it would be fun to check out the chicks who did.

The next thing I know, my name is being called out as the first place winner of the Athena division. It’s hard to say who was more surprised…me or my serious triathlete friends. I was in shock and somehow made my way up front to accept my award. After I shook hands with the announcer, I stepped over to the prize table to collect my winner’s plaque. The nine-year-old handing these out looked up at me and told me the truth.

“Uhhh…you were the only one in the category…”

Whatever. Little shithead.

I still won first place.

Upon returning back to Boulder, I was able to honestly answer when my friends  and family asked me, as they always do, if I had won the race.

Actually, yes…yes, I did.

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

Two days after the race, I happened to be in a friend’s bathroom with a scale. For laughs, I hopped on and was shocked to realize that I only weighed 140, which meant that I hadn’t actually qualified for the Athena category. Whoops.

To summarize, if you want to win a triathlon, here are the two things you have to do:

1. Make sure you lie about your weight so that you can get a special distinction when it comes to race participants.
2. Make sure that there is no one else competing against you in your category.

See?

It’s easy to win a triathlon.

Writing her first blog post

Today is my mom’s birthday and this time last year, she was celebrating in a federal penitentiary.

She crossed a protest line, trespassing onto federal property and, for standing up for what she believed in, my mom was sentenced to a month in prison. Upon arriving, she bought two chocolate cupcakes from the prison commissary, one to eat on my sister’s birthday and one for her own. My mom spent her 66th birthday in a cell with a stale cupcake.

She recently posted her thoughts on a very unique one-year anniversary. (Yes, my mom has a blog–doesn’t yours?)

My favorite part of her look back…

“But the growth has not been without the pain. I am not comfortable now. I question more, have less patience with the wrongs in the world and wonder, more then ever, where my place in all of it should be.”

I couldn’t ask for a more amazing mother. She inspires me to not accept things as they are and to speak out against injustice.

Happy birthday Mom. I love you and am glad that this year, you won’t have to worry about any guards yelling at you.

For more about my mom’s social justice advocacy and time in prison, check out her other posts…

• why she crossed the protest line in the first place
• the statement she made at her trial
• a detailed report from the inside
• her initial impressions after getting out

And, if you really want to give her a thrill, leave a comment on her blog. It means more to her than any present.

Sometimes I can be stubborn. When the universe tries to teach me something, I believe that it keeps trying until that lesson sinks in.

I had something shiny, fast, fun and reliable taken from me today.

It sucks and it’s not even the first time I’ve had a bike stolen.

When I walked out of work to find my bike gone, I started reacting as I have in the past — getting angry, tears welling up, feeling sorry for myself, looking around suspiciously, and wanting answers to my many questions.

But what I didn’t expect was to feel something new.

Gratitude.

I have another bike to ride.

I have my health, good friends and an amazing husband.

I have a job and a family that loves me.

What I don’t have anymore is a road bike and while she will be missed (she was my first roadie, after all), I won’t forget her. I completed two triathlons with her and she helped me to realize that going fast could be fun. You can take away the bike, but you can’t take away the love I have for riding a bike.

Fortunately, I have research on my side with this one.

Lesson # 15,934:

You shouldn’t let your possessions possess you.

And, in happier biking news, check out a bicycle-sharing program that sounds awesome and will hopefully be coming to a town near you soon!

Imagine that…sharing bikes instead of stealing them.

[updated 4.26--I had to take that b-cycle video down because it automatically started without anyone pushing play. Sorry for the annoyance. But go check out the video on their site!]