#triathlon blog

[carlocarrasco]

Greater Asian presence in World Triathlon Committees for 2025-2028 achieved

A greater Asian presence within the World Triathlon congress was achieved as fourteen candidates from Asia won seats in varied committees during the election held recently Torremolinos, Spain. The newly elected members will be serving from 2025 to 2028. Elected to the Credential Committee were Liangjie Li (China), Mohammad Hojaji (Iran), Reita Kanagarajah (Malaysia), and George Selman (Lebanon).…

[justtrying-studyblog]

New Year, New Obstacles & the Never Ending Flow of Time

I have this feeling that time is getting faster and faster with each year. As a kid, every year seemed to drag on, but now I can barely keep up! I don't think I will do a formal review of last year, other than calling it "The Year of Three". I mean, I attended three universities, felt like I was living three separate years (and yet time was so speedy), and traveled to three new states/countries.

But that's behind me. Now I have my eyes set on new goals, new challenges, and new classes! I'll start with my intention for this year.

This year is a year of outward growth. I feel confident in the roots I planted in the 2020s and am ready to branch out (lots of tree metaphors this year, bear with me). I'm looking to try new things, be more social and push myself to do those scary things.

I am already succeeding and am so proud of myself! I have hung out and organized events with people throughout January and am not stopping there. I have started the horrid process of online dating, hoping that someone will work out, at least for a bit. I also am in the process of organizing my study abroad for next semester (more on that, I'm sure, in its own post).

As for new classes, I'm diving into my actual major/minor studies now. I'm taking Critical Thinking, Politics and the Law, Intro to Political Inquiry, Scene Study, Persuasion, and even Piano! I'm a little overwhelmed by the amount of reading I have to do, but I find everything so interesting that it's easy to power through (most of the time).

I am also in a juggling act of work and school. I have been mainly working opens which is like 5a, and then I go to class and hang out with friends. If high school me could see me now, she'd be so impressed.

Finally, I'm training for a triathlon. Inspired by Bondi Beach (yes, the show about lifeguards), I'm training to do a Sprint Triathlon, and my goal for the year is to complete a full one. I started the week after Thanksgiving and am struggling a little with motivation, but I am really proud of the improvement I have already made. Like, I find myself eager to work out and go for a bike, run or even swim! My endurance has gone up like crazy, and I really do feel better about myself (except for the guilt of not working out some days). I hate to say it, but all those people who told you working out is the solution, and it makes you feel better, they are telling the truth. I know, I know. It's the worst.

Yesterday I also went to a science museum with a friend and now I am having a little internal debacle if I should switch to studying to work at NASA or something, but that's for another day.

My point is this year is going to be my year because I'm going to make it my year! I'm done hoping everything will change through sheer willpower and manifesting. Because as much as those can help, I know that I have to put in the work. I'm excited about everything that is happening in my life and it is only January. I'm sure I'm going to come back on here and have an existential rant, but I know that I'm on the right path right now, and that's all that matters.

Whatever you are facing right now, I urge you to stop waiting and start doing. It's hard, it sucks and it can be a painful process, but the reward is worth it. YOU are worth it!!

Thank you for listening to my directionless, stream-of-thought rant. I love you guys and as always ✨stay safe and do the work, it'll help✨

[fellaswiththehellagoodhair]

the eras tour is gonna make me start doing cardio at the gym leading up to my show date like im preparing for a goddamn triathlon

[ladamedusoif]

able

(Joel Miller x disabled F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Disabled F!Reader

Summary: "I just don't think she'll be able for patrol". But then it's just you, Joel, and your trusty walking stick in the middle of nowhere...

Content/warnings: Reader is disabled (she has rheumatoid disease/arthritis in addition to panic attacks, she uses a walking stick as necessary); Reader had a sister; Reader is an art teacher; strong violence; blood; description of panic attack; references to impact of chronic illness and disability; references to medication; references to disease and death; non-canon compliant; Jackson!Joel; strong language; ableist language and abusive language

Rating: Mature; 18+ MDNI

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: After making a plea earlier in the week for people to actually write disabled Reader fic, as opposed to forcing writers to feel they have to tag literally everything in an able-bodied Reader story, I knew I had to put my money where my mouth was as a disabled, neurodivergent writer with various mental health things going on here and there. And this one-shot is the result.

This one is a little personal. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid disease about ten years ago, and Reader’s experiences are informed by my own (though, thankfully, I haven’t had to contend with an apocalypse that meant I couldn’t access the medication that has kept me going). She’s also inspired by @agentjackdaniels, who acted as consultant extraordinaire on walking sticks and panic attacks, and suggested the Joel picture for the moodboard. Thank you, Luce, for this, for fighting the good fight for representation in fic - and for beta-ing the story. 

(A note on terminology: rheumatoid disease/arthritis are sometimes used interchangeably. ‘Arthritis’ often sounds like it’s ‘just’ osteoarthritis to people who don’t know the difference. Rheumatoid, unlike osteoarthritis (which is shitty in its own ways), is a systemic, lifelong, chronic illness and an auto-immune disorder that affects the entire body, not just bones and/or joints. So personally I use ‘rheumatoid disease’ as it conveys more of the impact of the condition. It's also often seen as an 'old person' disease but this simply isn't true - not that this stops mobility aids being modelled by people in their 80s all the time...)

Please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to stay up to date with my work.

Dividers by @saradika - moodboard by me

You weren’t supposed to make it.

Twenty-odd years in the apocalypse with your fucked-up joints and no steady supply of the meds that kept you going, pushing through the cycles of fatigue, and fighting off your own goddamned immune system as much as you were fighting clickers and raiders. 

You really weren’t supposed to make it. But you had Annie.

You were sharing an apartment when the outbreak happened, a quirk of shitty personal circumstances - she’d just broken up with her long-term boyfriend - that probably helped save your life. Annie was the all-action sister - the kind of person who thinks there’s nothing weird about spending your weekends doing triathlons and “Tough Mudder” challenges, who had a perfect bill of health your entire lives, who bounced out of bed in the mornings while you cracked and creaked and stiffly manoeuvered yourself into being. 

The good days generally outweighed the bad in the years between your diagnosis with rheumatoid disease and the initial outbreak - or maybe you had just gotten used to the aches and pains and the occasional flare-ups of fatigue. You invested in a walking stick to help on those days when mobility was particularly bad: solid, heavy, and carved in a pale yellow wood. It felt like a comfort in your hand, more a sign of strength, to you, than of weakness. 

Annie helped you through the panic attack that consumed you on outbreak day, working with you to regulate your breathing and relax your tense muscles until you could finally say what was on your mind.

“My meds. What am I going to do without my meds?”

Nothing a quick smash and grab at the local pharmacy couldn’t fix. It was the first of many, stockpiling the little yellow tablets you relied on and taking as many packs of over-the-counter painkillers as you could carry. Useful currency in the apocalypse, as it turned out.

All-Action Annie was never going to cope with life in a QZ. She got the two of you out after months of planning, nights of whispered talk about a town out west that was normal - or something close to it, anyway. She hadn’t entertained your protestations about you slowing her down, holding her back.

“You think I’m leaving behind a girl who’s so handy with a weapon?” she’d teased, pointing to your walking stick. “Be real. We’re busting out together.”

The infection took hold in her about three days from Jackson. Fuckin’ barbed wire, tearing a jagged line through Annie’s hand and leaving behind an old-fashioned kind of threat to life, the kind penicillin had mostly dealt with. But that was then. This was now. 

She died in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, you holding her hand until the end, talking to her about your childhoods and trying to keep smiling until she closed her beautiful eyes. 

It took all your strength to dig her grave. And then, somehow, you found more.

You weren’t supposed to make it. But you did. 

Jackson stands before you. 

He sees you for the first time in the community dining hall, talking animatedly to Maria as you hungrily devour the food set in front of you. Eyes wide, face grubby, clothes ragged. Half-wild, he thinks, like most of the new arrivals. Like him and Ellie, once upon a time. He returns to his bowl of soup and his own thoughts - at least, until he’s interrupted by Maria.

“Joel? Want to introduce a new member of the community, just arrived.”

He doesn’t quite know why he’s surprised when he realises you’re leaning on a sturdy hand-carved walking stick in a solid, light yellow wood. Maybe it’s because he knows how physically hard it is to get here. Maybe he just assumed folks who needed a stick wouldn’t have been able to manage the journey. 

For a second he can hear Sarah’s voice in his head, chiding him for focusing on what a disabled person can’t do instead of what they can. 

“Joel?”

He snaps out of his reverie and looks from Maria to you. “Uh, hi. Sorry, just…sorry. Forgot my manners.”

“I was just saying how glad we are to have someone who can offer some art education in the town, isn’t that right, Joel?”

Your eyes are warm and mischievous as you meet his gaze, silently conveying your amusement at Maria’s rather brusque manner. It’s all Joel can do not to laugh.

“Sure is. You’re an artist, then?”

You shake your head. “Not a real one. I was an art teacher, before. Long time since I created anything, though, so I hope I remember how.”

He smiles softly, his gruff exterior receding a little. “Bet it’s just like riding a bike,” he says, before his face falls as he looks at your walking stick. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean… Shit. Hope I didn’t offend.”

“As it happens, I can ride a bike, Joel. The apocalypse just doesn’t give me much cause to.”

You leave him with a smile and a wink as Maria ushers you to meet other townsfolk. He watches you as you walk away, the tap-tap-tapping of your stick beating out a new rhythm in the heart of Jackson.

You think of Annie every morning when you wake up in the little house you’d been assigned. Sometimes, as you potter around the kitchen, still revelling in the novelty of making yourself morning coffee for the first time in two decades, you even talk to her. You tell her about the town, the townsfolk, your work in the community vegetable garden, your art classes. 

“Honestly, An, you wouldn’t believe how popular they are,” you tell the Annie who, in an alternate universe, is sitting at the kitchen table with her own mug of coffee. “I’m setting up extra sessions to cater for demand.”

There’s something uplifting in how hungry the people of Jackson are to make art, no matter their experience or existing skill level. They’ll draw stuff from memory, they’ll dutifully work on a still life, they’ll even traipse outside with you, wooden sketching boards in hand, and make rapid-fire sketches of the goings-on on Main Street. 

Joel doesn’t join a class - but the teenage girl Maria refers to as “Joel’s kid” does, all potty-mouthed and enthusiastic and pretty damned talented, to boot. Ellie tells you how she’s pinned up the drawings she’s proudest of in their home, “like our own fuckin’ art gallery or some shit.” 

You pull up a tall stool and sit beside her, resting your stick over your thighs. “Joel’s got his guitar and those dumbass model figures he paints,” she continues, leaning around her easel and squinting at the woman who’d volunteered to act as a life model for this week’s classes. “But this shit? This is real art.” She adds a little highlight to the woman’s sweater and leans back to assess the work.

“You probably got exempt from patrols, I’m guessing. On account of the stick, an’ all.”

“Maria asked, and I signed up happily. I got all the way here, didn’t I? I’m sure I can manage patrols. And it’s the least I can do - they’ve even found me some of the medications I need.”

Ellie nods, somewhat convinced, and returns to sketching out the contours around the model’s jaw.

The day of your first patrol arrives. You bundle up and set out early for the stables, allowing extra time to get there on account of the flare-up you’d been experiencing the day before. 

You arrive early - just in time, in fact, to overhear a heated conversation between Joel and Maria.

“She’s doing enough, ain’t she? I just don’t think she’ll be able for patrol.”

“You’ve seen her out and about, Joel. She’s mobile. She’s competent. She’s good with the horses. She got all the way here, the last stretch on her own. What more proof do you need?”

“You’re seriously gonna send a woman with a walking stick out on patrol?”

“I seriously am. Sent you and your bad back out, didn’t we?”

“That ain��t the same and you know it.”

“Just saddle the horses, Joel. And, in case you’re wondering - yes, I paired you together deliberately, just until she gets settled.” You hear her footsteps recede as she leaves him.

You had misjudged how much your already-limited grip would be further impeded by the gloves you’re wearing. The stick clatters to the ground.

“Who’s there?”

You emerge from the shadows. “Me. Sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes and gruffly points out the tack and supplies.

The first patrol passes in silence. You wonder what happened to the softer man you’d caught a glimpse of the first day you arrived.

On the second patrol, you ask him questions about himself. On the third patrol, he asks (fewer) questions about you. By the fourth, you’re having something approximating normal conversation. 

“Sarah loved to make all kinds of stuff,” he ventures, leading the way on his chestnut horse. “Those beaded bracelets, that girly Lego in the pink and purple, all of that. My girl had enough Magic Markers to supply a whole elementary school. Maybe two.”

You can hear him smile, even without seeing his face. His shoulders relax a little as he recalls the memory.

“So she was a creative kid?”

“Creative, sporty… she could do anything. Made the school soccer team, she was so proud. Just a…” He pauses. “A great kid.”

There’s a few beats of silence, punctuated only by the sound of the horses snickering and the steady rhythm of their hooves on the ground. 

“What about your sister, was she arty like you?”

You’d told him about Annie on the last patrol. This was the first time he’d asked about her explicitly.

“She was the sporty one. I think that’s why I survived so long, truth be told. She was so strong and fast and tough as fuck.”

He chuckles, the burr of his voice resonating in the cold air. “Sounds like a good balance, though.”

“It is - it was. Was.” Your voice grows quieter as you repeat the word to yourself, chest starting to tighten. The horse slows, responding to the tension of your body, as Joel continues to trot on, not realising you’ve come to a halt behind him. 

And then the tell-tale snapping of a twig, the sound of footsteps, and the realisation there’s someone else there, emerging out of the woods. Two someones. 

Raiders. 

The panic attack that has been building inside you gives way. An innate fight or flight response kicks in as you roar his name. 

Joel turns and charges back towards you, just in time to see you take out one raider with a crack shot from your pistol. He slows the horse and readies his rifle, staring at the other man who is now trying to haul you off your mount.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” You flail against him, desperately shifting your weight to the other side of the saddle to try to shake him off. 

Joel takes aim. 

You think you’ve kicked the raider off. And that’s when you hit the ground.

He can’t take the shot now, not with her half-hidden from his view and audibly fighting off the man who’s dragged her to the ground. Joel is still a little distance away, slightly too far to see exactly what’s happening. 

Why didn’t he hear her slowing? Why didn’t he realise she was further behind than she ought to be? Why did she slow in the fuckin’ first place?

Joel quickly dismounts, rifle in hand, moving closer so he can get a clearer shot at the guy who’s now standing over her. The horse’s elegant neck obscures the raider’s hands from Joel’s vision - he has no idea if he’s pointing a gun at her or not. 

He thinks he has a clear sight on the guy’s head, provided he stays in the same position. He readies the rifle. 

Suddenly, the raider disappears, letting out a primal roar before he hits the ground. 

“You fucking cunt!”

Joel can see she’s standing now, the man prone before her. As he rounds the horse he sees her lift her cane, hands securely gripping the pointed end of the stick. 

She brings the solid, weighty handle down on the raider’s leg with a sickening crunch. Even Joel recoils a little at the sight and the sound.

“F-f-fucking…c-c-cunt!”

Thwack. The other leg. 

Fuck. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

”Keep calling me that, and I’ll keep the blows coming.”

Holy fuck. Who is she?

”C-c-c-cripple.”

”Excuse me?”

The raider props himself up on his arms. “I said, cripple. Fucking crippled cunt.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Joel cocks his rifle. 

The stranger sneers at Joel. “Awww, he’s actin’ the big man now. Weren’t too quick gettin’ back down here to save your cripple woman, were ya?”

Before Joel can react, she swings her stick over her head and brings it down on the man’s skull with a furious scream that seems to come from the very depths of her being. 

She screams and screams as she hits him, over and over, eyes wild in her blood-spattered face. Joel recognises this: in himself; hell, in Ellie. It’s the moment when the floodgates open and all those years of pain blend together and zone in on this convenient target, an avatar for everyone and everything who had forced loss and trauma upon you. 

He roars at her to stop, but knows she can’t hear him. It’s just her and the raider, now: her rage and fear and grief finding their expression through a walking stick turned cudgel.

A single shot ends it. She turns sharply, as if snapped out of a trance, and sees the smoke leaving Joel’s pistol. 

“Hey. Hey. You alright?” His broad hands grip your biceps as he looks into your eyes.

Yes, you tell him, yes. You’re fine. But Joel keeps asking. 

“Talk to me. Are you okay? I’m worried about you. Please, just talk to me.”

You are moving your mouth, but no sound is coming out. The familiar vice is tightening around your chest. You look down at your blood-stained hands and you struggle to breathe. 

“‘M dying, Joel. Can’t breathe. All the blood. So much. Why can’t I breathe?”

Oh, he realises with a pang. She gets these things too. And I know how to help.

“You’re okay, you hear?” He’s rubbing your arms gently, keeping his gaze on you. “You’re alright. Breathe along with me, okay?”

It’s difficult to find the rhythm, at first. Joel’s hands find yours and squeeze them in time with his breath.

”In through your nose, that’s it. Slow and steady. Now out through your mouth.”

He can see your muscles starting to visibly relax. A wave of relief courses over him.

”Yeah, that’s it - you got this. You got this, good girl, you’re just fine. Gonna be alright.”

When he’s confident your breathing has settled and the panic attack receded somewhat, he gently guides you away from the body of the dead raider, one hand holding your horse’s bridle and the other holding yours. 

“Why don’t you have a seat for a minute, huh?” Joel gestures to a long, low tree trunk lying near the forest’s edge and opens his saddlebags, rummaging until he finds a cloth, a battered hip flask and a bag of dried apple slices.

”Here.” He wipes the blood as best he can from your hands and proffers the flask, settling his substantial frame beside you on the log. “Have a sip or two, just to relax you a little bit more. Got a snack, here, too.”

You flinch at the taste of the liquor, but take a second sip regardless. The apple slices barely taste of anything in the afterburn of the moonshine. Joel nibbles on some jerky and stares into the middle distance. 

You take a break from patrol, agreed with Maria, and a few days off your art classes. It was tempting to keep going, to return to the light and airy studio and to your students. But you feared a relapse.

And your body needed to recover physically, too. You ached from head to toe, fingers and toes puffy and swollen and movement seriously restricted. You ration out the supply of medication you’ve secured since getting here, and use hot water bottles and plenty of rest to try to ride out the flare in your arthritis.

Three days after the incident, there’s a knock on the door. You hobble to answer it, leaning on your trusty stick for support.

”Came by to see how you were doing. Got you some things if you needed ‘em.”

Joel is standing on your front porch, holding a jute grocery bag. He pauses, as if waiting for you to give him permission to say more.

”That’s so very kind of you, Joel. Come in, won’t you? I was able to set a fire so it’s nice and cosy.”

He watches as you lead the way into the living room, noting how much slower you were today. Guilt laps at his conscience. He said she shouldn’t go on patrol. He knew.

”You want me to bring these into the kitchen for you?”

“That would be a great help. Thank you.” He’s glad to see you smile, after the trauma of the patrol. “If you want a drink, I’ve got some tea and coffee in the cupboard just to the left of the sink.”

He pops his head back into the living room. “What would you like?” 

“A tea would be perfect. Mugs are in the cupboard to the right.”

You wrap yourself back up in your blankets on the couch, making room for Joel when he returns with the drinks and a couple of cookies, sent over by Ellie as part of his care package for you. The mug feels like a comfort in your aching hands, its heat assuaging the inflammation ravaging your joints.

He sips his coffee and you sit in silence for a little bit, watching the flames dance over the firewood. 

“Have you, uh - you been okay, doing okay, since…”

Joel stares into his coffee cup and then looks at you, a little awkward. You smile, hoping to reassure him.

”I’ve been okay. Just the physical pain and exhaustion, mostly. And - well, you saw it. The panic. It can leave you drained.”

He nods and takes another swig of his drink. “I know. I - I’ve had times like that, too. Real fuckin’ scary, when you’ve never gone through it before.”

You study his face for a moment or two, noting the little scar on his temple, the lines on his face, the stern expression completely undermined by the warmth of his deep brown eyes. For an instant, he seems so vulnerable, this strong, tough man sitting on your little couch. 

“I haven’t had an attack like that in a while. But then, I hadn’t done anything like that in a while.”

This time Joel turns to look at you properly. “Not your first rodeo, huh?”

You giggle at the turn of phrase. “Not quite. Let’s just say my stick did a lot of work over the last twenty years. He wasn’t the first to feel the brunt of it.”

Joel nods, and you feel strangely relieved that he doesn’t seem surprised. “Doesn’t get easier, though, does it?”

“It does not. Which is why it’s better to avoid having to do it.”

”I agree. Gotta say, though, I - I was worried you wouldn’t be able for patrol, y’know?”

You arch an eyebrow at him. “I know. I overheard you, remember?”

He blushes. “Aw, shit. Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I just didn’t want anything happening to you, what with your - condition, and all.”

You sigh softly, not really noticing the affection in his voice. “Most of the time, I’m fine. Y’know? I’m slower, but I do okay. I get tired more easily, but I manage. I didn’t come here to be a drain on the community.”

”You aren’t.”

”I know, but I want to keep it that way. I want to pull my weight. I’m able, Joel.”

He huffs in agreement. “Not like I’m a perfect specimen these days, either. Knees, fuckin’ back, deaf in one ear…” 

You chuckle. “And you thought I wouldn’t manage patrol? Anyway, you’re not doing so bad, are you?”

He gives you a little smile, but that constant sadness still haunts his eyes. He stares at his coffee for a moment.

“You knew what you were doing, though.”

”I did. But I didn’t feel like I could stop.” You sip your tea, swallowing hard. “And I’m scared that makes me some kinda monster. You know?”

Oh, he knows. He knows it too well.

”You aren’t a monster.” Joel resists the urge to put an arm around you. “You just… something snapped, I guess. All that - well, all that hell you’ve gone through. It… it changes you. But it doesn’t make you a monster.”

He realises you’re crying before you do, spotting the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. He finds a clean handkerchief in his jeans and offers it to you. 

Fuck it. 

“Can I - can I put an arm round you? Just for some support?”

Your eyes light up, tears or no tears, and you nod enthusiastically. Joel is warm and comforting, his broad chest and strong arms a kind of anchor in the emotional storm. You nuzzle against him, and he gives you a little squeeze on the arm.

”You’re a really brave woman, you know that?”

His voice is quieter, more intentional. You look at him quizzically from under your lashes, unused to praise of this kind. For an instant you think about asking him what he means. But the safety you’ve found in the broad arm draped around you is all you need right now. 

You nuzzle a little against his chest, and watch the fire dancing for the rest of the night. 

[mtftm-ironman]

Hey.

I'm a fakegirl, and posting about it on the Internet websites under an assumed name.

That's cyberpunk as fuck. Let's make it even cyberpunker.

Upon achievement of any of these goals I will make a modest Beeminder donation of ten cents per note to an account controlled by an accomplice. If you are a detrans boy reading this, and we are mutuals, congratulations! It could be you. I complete the task to your satisfaction within a prearranged timeframe and I get that money back. Otherwise it goes to charity.

This post makes 25 notes, I'll go get a horseshoe and film it.

This post makes 50 notes, I'll burn my panties and film it.

This post makes 100 notes, I'll change my real blog to my neonecronym (Andrej) and he/him.

This post makes 250 notes, I'll lock myself up and film it.

This post makes 500 notes, I'll run a triathlon in the male division under my neonecronym and post lots of pics.

This post makes 1,000 notes, I'll come out as a detrans man IRL. My present name is gender neutral so no one will have to address me any differently.

This post makes 2,263 notes, I'll get the Ironman logo tattooed on my body, such that the little dot over the M, seen in my profile picture, is my bellybutton, and film it.

This post makes 5,000 notes, I'll get a tattoo consisting of an attack helicopter in a Mars symbol with the date on my left pectoral and film it.

This post makes 6,667 notes, I'll legally become Andrej and film it.

Now detrans me, you fuckin' cowards.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

I hope I'm not too late! And sorry if you answered this already but what's your revision process like? I feel like the first draft is a fast sprint but revisions are a triathlon. I know everyone's writing process is different but I'd love to know your process! Thanks and again I've been following your blog and adore your prompts.

not too late! i'm taking asks all day today (April 9). thank you for your kind words :)

my editing process has very few steps but does in fact take a long time!

when i finish a first draft, i make a list of everything i know is missing from the story, then go through and do a line by line edit, adding those things in as i go.

then, honestly and as has been the case twice now, the manuscript is ready for beta. i send it out, collect the beta, and do a second edit (usually much shorter than the first)

then its line edit o'clock, and then i query. e a s y

- L

(It's Ask Day! Ask me anything about anything. Tag to block/follow is L Answers)

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

UNDER PARIS (2024)

For a blog that calls itself “Scary Movies on Netflix,” I actually haven’t reviewed a Netflix original horror movie in a long time.  Maybe you’ve noticed that I’ve been binging on movies from the 1960s, but I think it’s time to return to my roots.

This Frenchie flick starts in the Pacific Ocean.  A team of researchers, led by Sophie, are tracking a shark, a mako.  It arrives and is much larger than they expected, seven meters.  That’s more than 20 feet for you non-metric people.  The shark attacks!  Les attaques de requins!  Mon Dieu!  A bunch of people are chomped to death.  Sophie dives in…to save them, I guess.  She sees the shark and it drags her down into the depths via piece of garbage wrapped around her foot.  Sophie manages to free herself and swims to the surface. 

A few years later she is a traumatized worker at an aquarium.  In Paris!  She is approached by Mika, a sharks’ right activist, who tells Sophie she has tracked that same shark, who they call Lillith, to Paris!  It has followed Sophie and is now swimming in the Seine!  That night Mika dives into the river to investigate a submerged car.  The driver side door has shark bite marks, and she is menaced by a shadowy shape…of a shark!  The French river police (la police fluviale), led by Adil, arrive and retrieve Mika from the water.  Mika eventually mentions something about sharks and has the police summon Sophie.  Sophie goes diving with the police to convince them that there actually is a shark.  Sophie and the police then approach the mayor of Paris, but she is more concerned about the upcoming triathlon than the general safety of Paris (much like how they didn’t want to close the beach in “Jaws” (1975)). 

Meanwhile, Mika and her shark activist friends make a whole social media thing out of the shark.  Mika wants to safely lead the shark back into the ocean, and she and a bunch of people gather in an underwater catacomb (last seen in “As Above, So Below” (2014)) with some kind of sonar device to attract the shark.  One of Mika’s friends (Ben) narcs on her, and the police follow Mika and her friends to the catacombs.  The shark arrives!  Along with a baby shark!  Mika is grabbed by the sharks and torn apart, and then the sharks chomp on a bunch more people.  (Ben is knocked out by people scrambling to escape the water and drowns.)  It is a disaster.  Une catastrophe! The mayor blames the police for the debacle and places the military in charge of the triathlon’s safety, which she refuses to cancel!

Sophie and the police ignore the mayor’s orders and devise a plan to kill the shark, which they earlier discovered can now reproduce by parthenogenesis.  They’re going to attract the shark back to that underwater catacomb and set off a bomb.  Une bombe, mon petite fromage! Meanwhile, the mayor opens the triathlon, and a bunch of people start swimming in the Seine.  The bomb is detonated, but most of the cops are eaten by sharks.  Sophie and Idril make it back to the river.  Sophie inspects the collapsed river wall, but the giant shark busts through!  The bomb didn’t work! 

The shark capsizes the cop’s boat (they needed a bigger boat, heh) and eats some more cops.  It then heads toward the triathlon swimmers!  It starts to munch on them, and finally jumps out of the water to bite a swimmer.  It’s another disaster!  Everyone starts to panic.  The military shows up and they begin to shoot at the shark in the water with machine guns and sniper rifles.  This sets off unexploded World War 2 ordinance still in the Seine, and there must be a lot of the stuff, because there are a bunch of explosions, which destroy numerous bridges!  This then causes a huge, tsunami-like wave to sweep down the Seine!  The mayor is swept away! 

We finally see Sophie pull Adil to safety atop a kiosk roof.  We pull back to see that central Paris has been flooded.  Like, from Notre Dame all the way to Champ-de-Mars, and more.  There are sharks everywhere.  La fin.

This was…sort of a mess.  It’s a monster shark movie, but it’s also a disaster film.  It points out the disaster of so many sharks being killed by mankind, but the shark activist gets eaten by a shark!  Quelle ironie!  The filmmaking is competent, to be sure, and there are plenty of gorgeous views of Paris along the Seine.  Shots of the single shark, huge and menacing, were well done, but group attacks looked a bit artificial.  The ending was ridiculous, but I still found myself grinning because of the escalating series of disasters.  A tsunami?  In Paris?  That’s full of sharks?  Count me in.

[oldguy56-world]

The Games People Play

Everyone likes to play some type of game. For my wife and I we have several favorites:

Where's my phone (daily)

Where's my glasses (at least once a week)

Who is that on TV and I thought they were dead? (multi times)

These are not the games I will be discussing however. I am of course referring to the Olympics. (Yes this is a follow up to the very popular Blog from last week talking about the opening ceremonies) I will not discuss the events because they are all shown 9 times a day and if you don't know what happened you are not interested so I will not waste my fingers. I will instead bring you up to speed on some of the happenings behind the scenes, which are interesting to say the least. Most names will not be used to protect the almost innocent so let's get going:

The triathlon was delayed but did you know they tried to have it happen by changing the first leg to a sprint across the Seine instead of swimming? What held them back was the test run where shoes seemed to melt on contact with the water.

A Slodovian weightlifter failed to read my last blog and as a result was not aware there was a video floating around showing a Bulgarian using the proper technique. As a result the Slodovian's testicles exploded when he tried to lift too much weight.

Canada was going to use a submarine to get some footage of swimmers from other countries in the pool but our only sub is currently being used at the West Edmonton Mall as a ride.

Snoop Dogg tried to entered the High jump, High dive, and the High Bar but backed out after the events were properly explained.

France tried to introduce their own version of the triathlon which featured smoking a carton of cigarettes, drinking a gallon of wine and eating two dozen croissants. Only Italy and Viet Nam were interested.

Another Slodovian accidentally ingested a full bottle of Viagra and had to change his discipline from the high jump to the pole vault. (really sorry about that one)

Another Slodovian (really rough Olympics for them) who was a boxer eliminated himself when he knocked himself out putting on his gloves.

The Turkish hitman in shooting purposely didn't take gold so that he could stay in the background and change disguises. (you really didn't think that was his real face did you?)

Finally, on a sad note, four French mimes were shot trying to escape from an imaginary box. Rumor has it police are searching for the shooter to present him or her with an honorary gold medal.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Every camera should focus on the faces of some of the athletes that were not on the podium but still performed a personal best. Joy does not have to come just when you win. As far as i am concerned anyone who qualifies to be there is a winner.

[carlocarrasco]

2025 National Age Group Triathlon Subic Bay Freeport race set for January 25-26, registration ongoing

The 2025 season opener of the National Age Group Triathlon (NAGT) series is set to take place on January 25 and 26 at the Subic Bay Boardwalk inside the Subic Bay Freeport Zone and registration is ongoing. A part of Triathlon Philippines’ (TriPhil) triathlon try-outs and talent identification program for the Philippine Triathlon Team, the 2025 National Age Group Triathlon – Subic Bay race will…

[liaromancewriter]

Hii 🥰

So in honor of World Yoga Day. I wanted to ask do your MC‘s and or OC��s practice any type of sports?

If yes which one and why?

Thanks so much for the ask. I just wrote an entire essay lol

Cassie & Max:

Cassie and Max are both very sporty. They learned to play golf with their grandfather, go sailing with their dad and skiing with their mom. They also play tennis together and get very competitive with each other (as they do in most things).

Cassie loves to run and was part of the Track & Field team during high school. While she continues to run to this day, it's more for relaxing and working through issues. Cassie doesn't like baseball, but gets roped into the hospital's softball team every year because she's good at it. lol

Jackie got her into kick boxing, which Cassie really enjoys. Max tried to interest her in Yoga, but she didn't like it at all. Cassie has gone surfing with Bryce but prefers paddle boarding with Sienna.

Max was on his high school tennis team for a while, but match schedules conflicted with his part-time job so he quit. He and his cousin Tony have a weekly Racquetball game at their club.

Like Cassie, he's into running and has done marathons, but he prefers swimming when he needs to think. He genuinely enjoys Yoga and meditation, but can't seem to convince Cassie or Sienna of their benefits.

Ethan:

Growing up, Ethan played ice and street hockey and pick-up basketball with his friends in the neighborhood. During winter, they would play in the community ice rink, but he wasn't part of any official hockey teams (too expensive).

He was on the basketball team during middle school and high school, and received scholarship offers from colleges. But he didn't want to play professionally or choose college based on sports.

During university and med school, he had limited free time. He exercised and went running to stay fit. He would play pick-up games for basketball, football and street/ice hockey with friends but nothing formal. He also participated in triathlons in his 20s.

Once he reached his early 30s, he stopped running because it's bad on the knees. He runs with Cassie under duress. He and Max play racquetball and pool together.

Sienna:

She's probably the least sporty of the group, but she's married to the most sporty of them all 🤣

During high school, Sienna played handball in PE but it was only because she had no choice. She and Max go swimming together, and she enjoys paddle boarding.

It's not that she's inactive, but sports have never interested her. She prefers to watch and is happy to cheer her loved ones on.

Tags under the cut

Character Asks: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @cariantha @crazy-loca-blog @coffeeheartaddict2 @doriopenheart @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

[egenvs3000f23]

Blog 1: My Relationship With Nature and Sense of Place Within it

Week 1 Prompt: Describe your current relationship with nature. How has this developed/evolved? Who offered you “a sense of place,” as described in our textbook?

I grew up amongst the rolling hills, creeks forests and farms of Caledon Ontario. Since I was young I have always felt connected to nature, and I account this largely to the setting in which I grew up. Instead of street names, malls, houses, shops and recreation centers, my neighborhood was instead conservation areas, farms and undeveloped land. My friends and I would go for long bike rides and hikes and play in the woods growing up. I think this is where my current relationship with nature has had its roots.

As time went on I became busy, I trained 22hrs a week as a competitive swimmer, went to a highschool in the city and eventually made my way to the university of guelph. Nature and my time in it got further away. I missed it and have since realized the profound impact it has on my well being, so I started to find my way back. I got into triathlons after quitting swimming and started to trail run and bike. To me there is no greater feeling of freedom than moving through outdoor space, particularly one of nature, running and biking re introduced this to me. I then had the chance to work at a mountain top tea house in Banff where I lived without electricity and amenities for a summer. I truly felt I knew the place. By the time I left, I could name every mountain, valley, river, identify countless trees, birds, plants and, having just completed a geomorphology course, understand the topography of the landscape. The friendships I made that summer were unmeasurable in their meaning, and I would say these came about from the full immersion in time, place and nature as well as from the lack of modern distractions and amenities. The level of understanding I gained for that place really intensified my relationship with nature.

The following summer I worked as a park ranger in Terrace British Columbia, we worked 8 days on and 6 days off. During our shifts we would do a combination of backcountry maintenance, public outreach and communication as well as ecological monitoring. Spending days camping in the backcountry at first was scary to me. I feared the large wildlife, moose, bears, cougars etc. However by the end of the summer that fear was replaced by respect, understanding and a sense of security and belonging. To be able to walk through the old growth rainforest, see endangered species, learn cultural histories, and understand the ecology and relationships between species of plants, animals and fungi was eye opening. I feel more at risk in cities and suburbs than I ever have in the great outdoors. When doing public outreach I got to address people's concerns and curiosities about the parks I was working in. There were so many people who had no clue about bear safety or the vital role of predators in our ecosystems. Being able to help explain ecosystems and their importance, as well as, how to take safety precautions to enjoy the outdoors without fear and instead respect, further evolved my relationship with nature and my sense of place in it.

On a different note, I have always had a fear of death, I myself am not religious, and it was in my immersion with nature that I found a healthy peace and respect for it instead. To respond to who offered me a sense of place, I would say it was all the people who helped to shape my understanding of nature as well as those who provided me with the opportunities to explore on my own; there are a lot of people and places that deserve credit. My family when I was young, those I met in the jobs I worked, and the opportunities that came my way present a brief summary.

Enjoy this gif of a bear scratching its back:

[silvercap]

⭐️ 🔐 💌

- 🔪 :D

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

Ohhh man, that's a heavy one... I think, for right now, at least, that the biggest thing I'm proud of is my writing and (sometimes) my art. I like making things for people, and I'm really happy that I've started sharing it with this community and that I've... I don't know, made something that people can enjoy? It's nice to reach out and bump into so many cool people who like what I've made with them in mind, and I feel good about it! I'm not done yet, by any means, but I'm pretty happy with what I've created so far!

💌 why did you start this blog?

Whump! I joined sometime last year because I couldn't look at whump posts without making an account (lmaooo) so I decided to start one of my own with the intention of just lurking- except then I started writing a little more on ao3 and making up my own silly whump posts, and it all just kind of went from there!

🔐 something no one would guess about you...

I'm kind of an athlete! I run the occasional triathlon in the summer (the easy ones, not the full length haha) and swim/run year-round, and I've been trying to go to the gym on a frequent basis (lying) so I can look like Chris Redfield one day 💪

[abhishek-poddar-1995]

Jennifer Lopez – 10Fun Facts you Didn’t Know About the Star

Having been in the spotlight for over a decade, we’ve grown to love everything about J.Lo. From her incredible dance moves, awesome acting skills, and killer vocal to her warm and open personality.

If you want to Read more Blog like this you can visit our homepage Optimum Idea

1. She was a Backup Dancer for Janet Jackson

2. Jennifer Founded Her Own Production Company , please check out our new blog Top 5 Best legit Ways to Make Money Online

3. She Loves a Bit of Reality-TV

4. J.Lo Completed a Triathlon in Less Than 3 Hours

5. She Established a Non-Profit Organization

6. J.Lo Was the First Latin Actress to Earn Over $1 Million

7. She Was Arrested at a Club in 1999

8. She’s the Only Woman Voted Twice for ‘Sexiest Women of the World’

9. Her Mom is a Renowned Gambler

10. J.Lo’s Beauty Regime Includes 8 Hours Sleep Per Night

If you want to Read Detailed blog in this topic you can visit 10 Things You Might Not Know About Jennifer Lopez 

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[ironmate]

The rise in ultra distance running is increasing in popularity, read more about it in this blog. https://curranz.com/blogs/news/the-rise-and-rise-of-ultra-running-why-running-a-marathon-is-no-longer-enough About Mark Kleanthous Mark is a full-time advanced performance coach and provides training plans, nutrition advice, mentoring, 1:2:1 coaching and for endurance athletes. Mark has been running for 43 consecutive years and has covered more than 100,000 kilometres in training and completed many ultra events including London to Brighton 88 km (sub 7 hours) Marathon des sables, Cyprus internal run challenge, European 100km championships, 24 hour track race plus 100+ marathons with a marathon personal best of 2:24:40. Coaching website- http://www.ironmatecoaching.co.uk/ Triathlon information website- http://www.ironmate.co.uk/ Instagram ironmate_coaching Face Book Mark Kleanthous About mark - http://www.ironmate.co.uk/about-mark-kleanthous-ironmate-mark #marathon #marathontraining #marathontrainingplan #ultra #runultra #longdistancerunning #nutrition #runcoach #ultracoach #marathonplans #nutrition #nutritonadvice #ironman #ironmantri #ironmantriathlon #ironmantriathlete #runcoach #runcoaching (at The World) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cngr1TorYXl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[thebooksupplier]

Mid-year Reflection

I keep saying that I want to get back into blogging; however, I find that I chose to spend my time doing other things. I turned 40 last year and decided that I was going to start racing in multisport competitions. So far this year I’ve completed a duathlon and a team triathlon. Honestly, I think it’s the most individual fun I’ve had since marching band. With one duathlon left this season and…

[lycraguyworld]

This is my first lycra post. In my blog, I will share content of bicycle travels, sports, trainings, bright compression clothes and triathlon. What do you think, where does the love of sports begin? What role in this does the image? #lycra #spandex #trisuit #bicycle #bike #tri