Where Do You Keep Your Butt Pads?

I think I forgot to mention that I had my first row team practice last week. They've gotten a jump start on practices because they are competing in a non-company sponsored race in DC (DC Dragon Boat Festival) next weekend. They opened it up to the newbies but without guarantee of being accepted onto the team.

Well now it seems like they had a change of heart because I think I may have committed to racing. It was brought up at Sunday's practice and I felt put on the spot. And it was after my verbal commitment that they divulged that there are actually 2 races that weekend and that we'd have to be in DC by 8am both days. Shoot me now.

So my first practice went well, I think. Nobody was yelling at me to stay in form (like some others... haha!) and I picked up the technique quickly. I wasn't terribly sore in my back or arms like I thought I'd be but good lord, I felt like I'd been punched in the ass for a good hour. I know some women complain about having some junk in the trunk, but it comes in handy when you're sitting on a wooden slat for an hour... trust me. Boney butts don't have the necessary cushion. I couldn't sit right for a few days leading some to think that I had quite the anniversary celebration.

I noticed that some women on the team had these little pads (pictured) that they were sitting on and I finally had to ask what they were. I mean, can you really buy a butt pad for rowing? Apparently they were using gardening kneeling pads as a cushion. They're foamy and rubbery making them soft and waterproof. Genius. I realized that I desperately needed a butt pad if I was going to survive.

The next practice wasn't until Sunday so I planned to pick up the butt pad on Saturday. On Saturday, The Mr and I went over to Tom's place for a Derby party where I was reunited with Jamie, Terri and my love, Geoff. I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time (seriously Terri... I'm still laughing about the emperor and his dishwasher safe friend!).

I had completely forgotten all about my sore cheeks until I heard Jamie and Tom leaving for an emergency trip to Target. In my haze of vodka tonics and a banana cream dessert, I remembered that I needed a butt pad so I screamed that I HAD to come with them. Thankfully, they let me tag along.

After getting derailed in the bargain bin section of Target (seriously - this is like crack cocaine), I declared that I had to have a giraffe doormat because it was only $2! And I also needed a bunch of picture frames because hello? $5 each?! Jamie quickly assessed that I was an impulse shopper and put a stop to my crazy.

The best part of the trip was that I had no clue where to find the gardening knee pads (yeah yeah - I could have looked in gardening, I get it... but where the hell was it?) so Tom approached a Target associate and yelled, "Where do you keep your butt pads?" I almost peed my pants. Jamie corrected him and another associate led us to the gardening section but I'm pretty sure the associate Tom spoke to is still standing there, red-faced and with his mouth agape.

But I got my butt pad and it is magic! My ass feels fabulous today but I can't speak for the rest of my body. Oy... the pain. I also think I might have caught the plague from the Baltimore harbor water as it was being splashed directly onto me by the paddler in front of me. Good times.