Another Chapter
Friday, December 28, 2007
Before you read this and get concerned about me please realize that I did not write this chapter - REBECCA BROWN did. Therefore, any confusion over the fact that she, NOT I, wears red lipstick should be eliminated!
Sales 140.6
Chapter 4: I Wear Red Lipstick
I wear red lipstick. It’s my secret weapon. No time for a shower? Put on red lipstick. Sleep deprived? Red lipsick. Losing your mind while editing a paper, baking 10 dozen cupcakes, feeding the baby and singing the Wiggles – all at the same time. You got it. Red lipstick.
I discovered the power of the lipstick in 1999. Against my better judgment, I signed up for a ½ Ironman triathlon in California. This triathlon odyssey started with a 1.2 mile swim…in a river…upstream. How hard can it be? The salmon do it every year – right?
For a seasoned triathlete, the prospect of swimming this distance would barely merit squeezing into a wetsuit. However, for me – a fair skinned, mainlander who still had nightmarish flashbacks to swim lessons at my mother’s tennis club – a 1.2 mile river swim was just short of the English Channel.
For months I fretted about the swim. I felt like a gerbil swimming endless laps in the 25 meter pool. I kept myself up at night convinced that I would be pulled under by some flesh-eating reptile lurking in the Russian River. I called the race director no less than five times to inquire about the speed of the current. I even checked average rain fall and river depths in the Farmers Almanac hoping I could turn the 1.2 mile swim into a 1.2 mile river walk.
On race morning, I slithered into my hot pink triathlon racing suit, pulled back my hair and took a look at myself in the hotel room mirror. My body was ready, but my mind wasn’t in the game. I grabbed for a lipstick and swiped it across my mouth. If they were going to pull me out, let my lips be red instead of blue.
As I entered the water, I could see my competition writing me off as a back of the packer more prepared for the country club deck than a triathlon. I adjusted my goggles, smacked my red lips and prepared to make like a salmon.
Talk a good look girls. You may lead in the water, but I will catch you on the bike and waste you on the run. And I did. Maybe I didn’t catch them all, but I caught some of them. And each one I passed got a big full-on red lipstick smile.
That day I discovered my secret weapon. I admit it is silly, simple and probably does not really do much to advance the feminine movemement but it is mine. It is the thing that empowers me when I am feeling like I don’t have it. Like I can be beaten. Like I am weak. Like I am scared.
What is your secret weapon? Find it. Use it. Don’t leave home without it.
Sales 140.6
Chapter 4: I Wear Red Lipstick
I wear red lipstick. It’s my secret weapon. No time for a shower? Put on red lipstick. Sleep deprived? Red lipsick. Losing your mind while editing a paper, baking 10 dozen cupcakes, feeding the baby and singing the Wiggles – all at the same time. You got it. Red lipstick.
I discovered the power of the lipstick in 1999. Against my better judgment, I signed up for a ½ Ironman triathlon in California. This triathlon odyssey started with a 1.2 mile swim…in a river…upstream. How hard can it be? The salmon do it every year – right?
For a seasoned triathlete, the prospect of swimming this distance would barely merit squeezing into a wetsuit. However, for me – a fair skinned, mainlander who still had nightmarish flashbacks to swim lessons at my mother’s tennis club – a 1.2 mile river swim was just short of the English Channel.
For months I fretted about the swim. I felt like a gerbil swimming endless laps in the 25 meter pool. I kept myself up at night convinced that I would be pulled under by some flesh-eating reptile lurking in the Russian River. I called the race director no less than five times to inquire about the speed of the current. I even checked average rain fall and river depths in the Farmers Almanac hoping I could turn the 1.2 mile swim into a 1.2 mile river walk.
On race morning, I slithered into my hot pink triathlon racing suit, pulled back my hair and took a look at myself in the hotel room mirror. My body was ready, but my mind wasn’t in the game. I grabbed for a lipstick and swiped it across my mouth. If they were going to pull me out, let my lips be red instead of blue.
As I entered the water, I could see my competition writing me off as a back of the packer more prepared for the country club deck than a triathlon. I adjusted my goggles, smacked my red lips and prepared to make like a salmon.
Talk a good look girls. You may lead in the water, but I will catch you on the bike and waste you on the run. And I did. Maybe I didn’t catch them all, but I caught some of them. And each one I passed got a big full-on red lipstick smile.
That day I discovered my secret weapon. I admit it is silly, simple and probably does not really do much to advance the feminine movemement but it is mine. It is the thing that empowers me when I am feeling like I don’t have it. Like I can be beaten. Like I am weak. Like I am scared.
What is your secret weapon? Find it. Use it. Don’t leave home without it.
