Tuesday, May 1, 2012

How racing a canoe can lead to divorce.

Anybody that has known me for about 15 minutes could tell you that I am not A) athletic or B) competitive.  Not that I don't exercise but I don't like things like races, sports, gyms (come on we all know they're judging) and basically all things done in groups or teams.  Now that being established I would like to take you back about two months ago.  My husband calls me from work (amazing since I normally do all the calling during the day to scream about how much I hate love my children).  He had called to ask me if I would be interested in participating in a canoe race on the Charles river.  It had something to do with cleaning it up...the river that is.  My immediate response was a emphatic NO.  "No thank you, what time will you be home?  I think I am going to kill the kids."  Those were my exact words but I could tell he was let down that I was not as pumped up about this new endeavor.  Granted I am sitting home with his two screaming, fighting children and not a bunch of excited coworkers looking to get together on a Sunday and have a cook out, but I digress.

I stewed on it for a bit and called him back to let him know that if he REALLY wanted to do it that I was in.  This was my first mistake.  When he got home I started pumping him for information about this little "race".  Things like, WHAT THE HELL DO I HAVE TO DO?  HOW FAR DO WE HAVE TO ROW?  WHAT'S THE PRIZE AT THE OTHER END?  To which I was told it was "so easy" and that it was "not competitive at all!"  He actually told me that his team had decided it would be a nice paddle down the river to enjoy the sites. NO PRESSURE-just relax and enjoy the ride.  He also said the team was broken up into groups of two and each group would be rowing about a 5-6 mile leg of the Charles.  At the end...a cookout.  I was hoping there would be a keg of Merlot but that was just my fantasy.

Over the course of the two months I freaked out several times, mainly after I found out that all his other co-workers wives had bailed, but each time he roped me back in with his promise of a nice afternoon without the kids and a leisurely paddle in a canoe just the two of us...NO PRESSURE.

So Sunday morning comes and at this point I have accepted that this was going to be FUN!  We put on our team jerseys and out the door we go to meet up at our check point on the river.  I knew the instant we arrived that I had been lied to.  My first clue that things were not portrayed in a truthful light was the immense amount of Vibram fivefinger sneakers and spandex I saw sprinting across a main street in the middle of Waltham whilst carrying canoes over their heads and yelling things like "LEFT" "RIGHT" all while a adoring crowd screamed and cheered them on.  Basically I turned to Dov and announced that I would like a divorce THIS FUCKING INSTANT.

Now I am made aware of the fact that when his two team mates arrive we have to heave the canoe out of the water and carry it about a half mile down the streets of Waltham to the next river entrance where we will board the canoe to the NEXT PORTAGE.  Yes we get to get out of the canoe two more times and carry it down river to avoid damns and so forth.  I literally wanted to rip his fucking face off with my fingernails I was so irate.  Here I am dressed in jeans and my nice BRAND NEW Merrill sneakers and this is looking more and more like a shit fest as the true "information" streams out.  When I asked if he knew of this before our arrival his answer was "yes." which only made me hate him more.  I guess when I saw him wearing Tevas, a sweatband and shorts with a otterbox tethered to them I should of had my first clue, but I am blissfully ignorant when the quiet stillness of having no children to rear surrounds me.  So that was my second mistake...the first one being the agreement to do this stupid thing in the first place.

His team mates are one of the last canoes to arrive at our checkpoint. This had me feeling confident that they were not in it to win it, so to speak.  Well if they don't jam into the port and announce that we have to "HURRY UP CAUSE WE JUST PASSED ANOTHER CDM TEAM AND WE HAVE TO STAY AHEAD OF THEM."  Yes.  I started being a bitch right then.  These team mates actually suggested we not waste any time putting on the wheel kit to drag the canoe!  Yeah fucking right fella.  Put the God damn wheels on before I turn straight exorcist on your ass!

Anywho...we made it.  No we did not speak except for me to inform Dov that I was going to rest my arms so he better step up his paddle game.  Yes we beat the other CDM team but honestly they must have been dead or paddling the wrong way cause sista was NOT trying very hard.  By the time we reached the finish line the cookout was as good as over and even if it wasn't we had to drive to Hopkinton to pick up the kids and then haul it back to New Hampshire since Dov had a red eye the next morning to Wisconsin...convenient huh?

In the end it was good exercise and I ain't mad at ya baby.  Well maybe a little bit.  Have fun with Noah at the dentist Friday babe!




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