Registration for Iron Maori!

On Saturday morning I woke up at 1:30am. And again at 4am. And finally again at 8am.

Baby was exceptionally thirsty that night - it was stifling hot. Plus she is four months old and ready to munch on the solids - just hasn't got quite used to the texture and technique.

Normally I would be stoked that I 'slept in' until 8am.

But about two minutes after I woke up I realised that this morning was not a morning to be sleeping in. This morning was Iron Maori registration day.

Registrations opened at 7:30am.

I'd heard that it usually sells out in 10 minutes!

Crap.

I jumped on my tablet and typed in Iron Maori registrations. I pressed enter. The little round thingy spun around and around. I am not a patient woman. I grabbed my cell phone and did the same thing. By this time my tablet had loaded up. Weirdly the little countdown timer to registrations was still counting down with 11 hours to go. Strange. The column on the right said it was open from 7.30am. I clicked on that. And held my breath.

[Sidebar: Even though I was freaking out I still noticed the 1/4 and the 1/2 are called the Tahi/Wha and the Tahi/Rua.... Aue taukiri e.]

I got redirected to the Trident site. When I clicked on the 1/4 individual event I went to a page that had a button at the top saying Individual, then the title 1/4 Iron Maori, then a paragraph that said I needed a login and I could get one when registrations were open, etc. No Register Now button, or Click here to register. I was still confused. Were registrations open?

After a few minutes of discussion with the husband, I jumped on the PC just in case my mobile devices were missing something.

Nope. The site online was identical. I resigned to thinking I had missed out for a few moments. But this could not be the result. After all my efforts I surely could not have missed out on even getting started on achieving my goal because I slept in!? I decided to think outside the box and clicked on that button above the title.

I smiled as I was taken to the login page and registered. As I went through, however, the pages loaded more and more slowly. When I got to the tshirt size page (what is up with only having the female fitted shirt in Small?!) it crashed. My smile vanished.

Argggghhhhh! I clicked on Medium again. Nothing. I clicked on Large. Nothing. My blood pressure went from low to average. I tried to go back to the start and register again. [my email address] is already registered. Deep breaths.

I was not going to let this poorly designed online form beat me. Not after all my mental preparation and investment (not to mention the start I'd made in the physical department).

I noticed a shopping cart at the top right corner. I knew I hadn't finished registering because I hadn't paid. I clicked. And held my breath.

 ... Bingo! *huge flood of relief*

I entered my payment details and finally the whole ordeal was over ...

... And so starts the next phase of this journey. I just bought a bike last week and will be getting it soon - haven't ridden a bike since I was a teenager. This should be interesting :)

Addiction #1

It's such a daunting word that one - addiction.

Many people would hear that word and think it doesn't apply to them. I'm not addicted to cigarettes, alcohol or drugs (legal or otherwise) so don't talk to me about addiction - I'm not an addict. But I think we are all addicted (to some degree) to something, be it food, drink, medications, behaviours ... I know I am addicted to several things. One of them is ...

Chocolate.

(It's so special it needs its' own paragraph.)

I hear you thinking yeah, yeah, that's what we all say when we're talking about addictions to make it seem somewhat acceptable. But I'm serious...

Hi My name is Myra and I'm a Chocoholic.

Ever since I used to climb up on the bench as a young'n and sneak spoonfuls of milo, to the teen years when I bought a Mars bar most weeks with the hope I would get the free Mars prize inside the wrapper (which would be immediately eaten when won), to CCNZ (all that chocolate milk & King Size Cadbury holdouts on the hill by the shop), to adulthood and the freedom to buy and eat as much chocolate as I ever wanted ... this addiction has been cultured throughout my 40 years of life and in the past 20 it's been a constant battle.

Once I went chocolate free for 9 months - never craved it (after the initial days of wanting to scratch my eyes out I wanted it so bad). Then someone somewhere offered me a piece of a slice that had a bit of chocolate on it. I remember that moment - I thought to myself ' ... it's just a tiny bit ... the main ingredient isn't chocolate ...' ... and I partook. Then the next time I was at a morning tea or something, I justified again in my head 'well I'm not really chocolate free anymore so I'll just have a little bit and manage my chocolate intake'.

Mea rawa ake (nek minnit) I'm back where I started.

Actually these days I'm not too bad ... but here's the problem - if I have this stuff around me, I can't just eat a tiny piece or two and then leave it for the next day or so. So we don't buy chocolate anymore because if we do ... that bar of chocolate in the fridge is calling my name all day - and I can't leave it hanging. I have to visit it repeatedly throughout the day and give it a high-five, snap off a row and chow down.

When I get down to the last couple of pieces I usually stop. It's tough but I can't eat that last row unless something tips me over the edge - like I'm angry or stressed. Why? Because if I eat that last piece (yes lets face it there's usually only one left) then I really am an addict. If I don't then I still retain some dignity and control (albeit completely in my mind).


Reporting last week 
AP - achieved :-), EP - partially achieved (didn't do the hand weight workout), MP - achieved :-)
This week
AP: Look at bikes on trademe.
EP: Walk to/from school with boys on Tuesday, go for a swim on Friday, do a resistance workout on Wednesday and Thursday.
MP: Paint my nails.