Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Day I Bought a Wetsuit Instead of a Vacuum

How do I hate thee?  Let me count the ways...

Tufts of black dog hair had stubbornly lodged themselves in my living room carpet.  As if that wasn't enough, sand and dirt had left a gritty texture over every square inch of my hardwood floors.  This self-proclaimed neat-freak literally has to dust off her feet before climbing into bed each evening.

When my dad visited last year, he got himself all worked up using my #2 Consumer Reports-rated vacuum.  "Jew need a Dyson, mija. This thing is a piece of shit."  Next thing I know, he's ordered me a Dyson from E-Bay.  When it arrived, I was thrilled.  My life will have not only more suction but will require zero vacuum bags!  I later discovered, after I donated my #2 Consumer Reports-rated vacuum, mind you, that my Dyson was missing all the essential attachments.  

With a shedding a dog and active outdoorsy twin daughters, I NEED a decent vacuum.  Enough of this #2 Consumer Reports rated and half-assed Dyson bullshit!  Hubs just bought himself a fucking flame thrower for Pete's Sake.  He'll use this monstrosity at most three times a year.  I use my vacuum daily, (well at least weekly... most of the time anyway).  I deserved the BEST vacuum that money could buy. 

Days went by...  I couldn't bring myself to lugging out my faulty Dyson.  A week passed...  the floors were without a doubt in the worst state of neglect ever.  Oddly, they didn't appear to be bothering anyone else in the family.  I continued dusting off my feet each evening before collapsing into bed.  Sure my family was living in squalor, but I had a 70.3 training plan.  I was exhausted from work and training that the last thing I wanted to do  was tackle the floors with a lame vacuum.  I vowed not to vacuum until I had my well-deserved new vacuum!  The weekend finally rolled around.  I was going to hit up the vacuum store in search of a new life-changing household appliance.  I had an open water swim/bike brick to complete first though.  The vacuum and the squalid living conditions would have to wait.

Off to the lake my family and I went.  My girls have declared the lake their new favorite place.  They would float alongside me as I attempted to swim 1.2 miles.  It was my second time swimming open water in a wetsuit.  My nerves had died down.  I didn't feel I was engaging in risky behavior.  My plan was to stay nice and calm, keep my strokes long and languid, breathe, breathe, breathe and cover the distance without breaks.  I just needed to get through the swim at my A-race of the year, Boise 70.3.  It would be my first half Ironman and would help me decided if  I had balls to attempt a full Ironman.

I had such a grand time swimming in the lake.  Nestled within the protective, buoyant layer of my rented wetsuit, I easily swam my distance.  As I had hoped, I was relaxed, efficient, confident. I didn't weave all over the place or drink the lake water. this time.  I was learning to love lake swimming in Oregon.  I could see myself doing a lot more of it in the future, but I would have to have my own wetsuit, not just a rented or borrowed one.  These babies don't come cheap though and what I really needed was a vacuum.  It just wasn't possible for me to have both. 

The new vacuum was a far more practical way to spend my money.   Unlike a wetsuit, it was something I would use on a weekly basis.  I thought of my ghetto Dyson collecting dust in the closet.  Then considered a new wetsuit.  Was the vacuum really that bad? It mostly worked and got the job done.  Attachments are over-rated anyway, right?  If I had my own wetsuit, I could swim whenever I wanted.  Renting and borrowing is impractical not to mention expensive.  My own wetsuit was an investment that would pay for itself after only six or seven swims. 

Vacuum.  Wetsuit.  Vacuum? Wetsuit? What was a multi-sport momma to do?  WETSUIT!  Yes, I bought the wetsuit.  Today was the day I bought a wetsuit instead of a vacuum cleaner.

Scratch and Sniff sticker: scent of neoprene

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