Try saying that three times fast. Hell, I can barely get it out right one time.
As I was walking toward F3 to go to my first TRX class there some nice asshat said to me "are you really sure you can do that workout? Hanging from straps attached to the ceiling. Shouldn't you try Curves first?" Seriously? Who the fuck says that kind of stuff to people? It was a woman coming out of Curves. I wanted to say, shouldn't you stick your head up your ass and put your hat on? But I didn't. I just said "yeah, it's pretty fun." Just another day in my life with this new path I've chosen. People doubting your abilities just by looking at you.
So I walk into F3 and am greeted by a fist bump from the owner, Mark. He has a nice sense of humor and a kind way of encouraging you.
The class was awesome: loud and fast-paced music, lots of variety that keeps your HR UP, circuits, stretching and a super quick run to warm up. Add in a class with lots of fun and young professionals, free water and towels and I have to ask you what's not to love.
I hung pretty well with the class. Sweating a shitton and am most positive I'll be feeling it tomorrow.
So to the woman who tried to sell me on curves? No fuckyou very much.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Better late than never - Muncie 70.3
It finally came! Muncie 70.3 37.2. Yes, 37.2. I finished, and here's the summary.
I was disappointed that the expo for my first IM70.3 was pretty small and quite pathetic. But that didn't detour me from buying a bike jersey, visor, tshirt, coffee mug and water bottle. (no fucking wonder I'm broke.) I sat in the crowded athlete's meeting and the race director nonchalantly walks up to the podium and says it's been changed to a modified olympic. The room goes silent, but we're all thinking he's joking. Um, no, he keeps talking about the shortened course. Immediately my heart sinks. All that training, all that hype, my parents and best friend have flown in. Seriously, they've flown from the east and west coast to see me do a fucking oly? Wait, I paid $225 for a fucking oly? Most expensive oly E-V-E-R.
I also have to point out that everyone I introduced my mom to, she started by saying "nice to meet you, I swear she didn't get her bad mouth from me." bwhahaha
So they shortened it because the predicted weather for the race was 115 with the heat index. In all honesty, it was a smart decision. There's not only for the athletes (which triathletes are not known for taking a break when they should stop because they are pushing heat stroke), but for all the volunteers and spectators. Races wouldn't happen without the wonderful volunteers. Thanks to my parents, and wonderful friends Andrea, Brian and Charlie for volunteering at the race!!! :)
So to prove that triathletes are terrible at knowing when to take a breather, yours truly developed a terrible cough 3 days prior to the race. I even had a fever Friday night and probably had no business racing. But I did anyway, I never claimed to be smart.
The swim went well. I think it was longer than a mile according to my garmin (I hugged the hell out of the inner buoys). I was happy that I kept up with the wave fairly well for most of the course. Although it's always depressing to see another color swim cap come through the wave. and another. and another. The entire swim my shorts kept coming off! I couldn't get from one buoy to the next without having to pull my shorts up off my upper thighs. Halfway through I even tread water so I could tie them tighter. Still didn't work. I'm just glad I didn't lose my shorts, that would have been one shitty T1 time. And I'm pretty sure you get DQ'd for nudity.
I get on my bike and take off onto the hills out of the area. I realize something is flapping against my leg. Fuck me running, it's my bento box. It had come unstrapped when I transported my bike that morning and I forgot to check it (I took the front wheel off for the first time and turned the handle bars different in the car). If I kept going I was going to lose most of my nutrition and salt stick tablets. I wasn't coordinated enough to fix it while pedaling, because of course it was jimmy-rigged, so I had to get off and fix it. Well getting back into "traffic" on the bike course was ridiculous so I waited for like a good minute before I could "merge" back on course.
The bike course was fast! The first large flat I was about 25 mph. The second time I came through I had fallen to about 15. At this point it dawned on me that I wasn't sweating.. yikes! I picked up some extra hydration and concentrated on getting my hydration back on track. By this time the heat is starting to creep up. I would take a drink of water and then take a swig to shoot back down my shirt to cool me down. It worked but I'm sure was quite the sight to see. I ended up with more than 16 on the bike, but should have been 18 or 19. I was pissed coming in and Andrea later told me I did not look good at all coming back in from the bike. It was pretty fun to have two of my best friends at the bike dismount giving dismount instructions, to see my dad inside transition cheering me on and to get a glass of water from my mom before heading to rack my bike up :-D
(side note.. so later in the car I was commenting about how I was starting to rub pretty bad in the whoha region and couldn't figure out why because I had slathered on the Belgium butter like it was my job. Andrea (non-triathlete) from the back seat says "is it water proof? You were in the water for an hour" I sit there dumbfounded with my mouth open so wide that you could shove bigmouthbillybass right in. Doh, that shit is NOT water proof, no where on the bottle does it say it is for swimming. Well no fucking wonder.)
I broke the cardinal rule and I sat down in transition (it ain't a picnic, right Jaime?) to put my running shoes on. Finally, I was rehydrated! How do I know this? I peed as I sat down..hahah. I go to grab my visor so I can leave T2 and the fucking thing is GONE. I tore my transition gear apart, even went into my neighbors' stuff, it was no where to be found. I was pissed, who would take it? Even worse it was close to 105 now and I had no where to stuff wet sponges on my head.
I started out on the run hoping the culprit got a scorching case of herpes soon as retribution, but then remembered that wasn't nice. So I hoped that it helped them win their age group or something nice like that.
I really should elaborate that my run was a shuffle. At this point it was awesome to see so many of my friends and teammates heading into the last 1-2 miles of the run so I was busy cheering them all on. When the course thinned out I started walked and never really stopped walking until I was coming on the last mile. I couldn't walk two paces without coughing like I was dying. There was a guy that I kept racing. He'd get into the lead, I'd pick up the pace and take over, then he'd pass me. This went on for the end of the race. As I came down the last valley to start the final big hill to the finish and there they were. At least 10 people all in blue from my T3 team cheering me on. My run picked up pace and I wanted to make them all proud with a strong finish. As soon as I started running faster I heard the most familiar sound in my life. My mom's voice cheering me on. She was there with Charlie and they were ringing their loud ass (and very authentic) cow bells. Her voice was the frantic cheer that I remember from all the cheer-able moments in my life.
I came in the finisher's chute and there was more blue cheering me on. There was my dad and Brian and Andrea. And there was the finish line. Once I got through the finish there were members from other teams to congratulate me. I will never get tired of how amazingly awesome this community is full of support.
I got back to my bike to pack up and what was sitting square in the middle of my bright yellow mat? My fucking visor.
Ironman Muncie by the numbers:
too many to count - snot rockets
24 - salt stick tablets consumed
15 - cups of ice dumped down the front of my bra
9 - number of times I got kicked during the swim
7 - miss-fired snot rockets (hey, it happens to everyone)
4 - cups of ice dumped down my shorts
1.5 - number of miles a bee followed me on the run (that shoulda got me runnin'!)
1 - missing visor
0 - number of times I felt like quitting
Thanks to everyone who supported me! Many more races and updates to come!
I was disappointed that the expo for my first IM70.3 was pretty small and quite pathetic. But that didn't detour me from buying a bike jersey, visor, tshirt, coffee mug and water bottle. (no fucking wonder I'm broke.) I sat in the crowded athlete's meeting and the race director nonchalantly walks up to the podium and says it's been changed to a modified olympic. The room goes silent, but we're all thinking he's joking. Um, no, he keeps talking about the shortened course. Immediately my heart sinks. All that training, all that hype, my parents and best friend have flown in. Seriously, they've flown from the east and west coast to see me do a fucking oly? Wait, I paid $225 for a fucking oly? Most expensive oly E-V-E-R.
I also have to point out that everyone I introduced my mom to, she started by saying "nice to meet you, I swear she didn't get her bad mouth from me." bwhahaha
So they shortened it because the predicted weather for the race was 115 with the heat index. In all honesty, it was a smart decision. There's not only for the athletes (which triathletes are not known for taking a break when they should stop because they are pushing heat stroke), but for all the volunteers and spectators. Races wouldn't happen without the wonderful volunteers. Thanks to my parents, and wonderful friends Andrea, Brian and Charlie for volunteering at the race!!! :)
So to prove that triathletes are terrible at knowing when to take a breather, yours truly developed a terrible cough 3 days prior to the race. I even had a fever Friday night and probably had no business racing. But I did anyway, I never claimed to be smart.
The swim went well. I think it was longer than a mile according to my garmin (I hugged the hell out of the inner buoys). I was happy that I kept up with the wave fairly well for most of the course. Although it's always depressing to see another color swim cap come through the wave. and another. and another. The entire swim my shorts kept coming off! I couldn't get from one buoy to the next without having to pull my shorts up off my upper thighs. Halfway through I even tread water so I could tie them tighter. Still didn't work. I'm just glad I didn't lose my shorts, that would have been one shitty T1 time. And I'm pretty sure you get DQ'd for nudity.
I get on my bike and take off onto the hills out of the area. I realize something is flapping against my leg. Fuck me running, it's my bento box. It had come unstrapped when I transported my bike that morning and I forgot to check it (I took the front wheel off for the first time and turned the handle bars different in the car). If I kept going I was going to lose most of my nutrition and salt stick tablets. I wasn't coordinated enough to fix it while pedaling, because of course it was jimmy-rigged, so I had to get off and fix it. Well getting back into "traffic" on the bike course was ridiculous so I waited for like a good minute before I could "merge" back on course.
The bike course was fast! The first large flat I was about 25 mph. The second time I came through I had fallen to about 15. At this point it dawned on me that I wasn't sweating.. yikes! I picked up some extra hydration and concentrated on getting my hydration back on track. By this time the heat is starting to creep up. I would take a drink of water and then take a swig to shoot back down my shirt to cool me down. It worked but I'm sure was quite the sight to see. I ended up with more than 16 on the bike, but should have been 18 or 19. I was pissed coming in and Andrea later told me I did not look good at all coming back in from the bike. It was pretty fun to have two of my best friends at the bike dismount giving dismount instructions, to see my dad inside transition cheering me on and to get a glass of water from my mom before heading to rack my bike up :-D
(side note.. so later in the car I was commenting about how I was starting to rub pretty bad in the whoha region and couldn't figure out why because I had slathered on the Belgium butter like it was my job. Andrea (non-triathlete) from the back seat says "is it water proof? You were in the water for an hour" I sit there dumbfounded with my mouth open so wide that you could shove bigmouthbillybass right in. Doh, that shit is NOT water proof, no where on the bottle does it say it is for swimming. Well no fucking wonder.)
I broke the cardinal rule and I sat down in transition (it ain't a picnic, right Jaime?) to put my running shoes on. Finally, I was rehydrated! How do I know this? I peed as I sat down..hahah. I go to grab my visor so I can leave T2 and the fucking thing is GONE. I tore my transition gear apart, even went into my neighbors' stuff, it was no where to be found. I was pissed, who would take it? Even worse it was close to 105 now and I had no where to stuff wet sponges on my head.
I started out on the run hoping the culprit got a scorching case of herpes soon as retribution, but then remembered that wasn't nice. So I hoped that it helped them win their age group or something nice like that.
I really should elaborate that my run was a shuffle. At this point it was awesome to see so many of my friends and teammates heading into the last 1-2 miles of the run so I was busy cheering them all on. When the course thinned out I started walked and never really stopped walking until I was coming on the last mile. I couldn't walk two paces without coughing like I was dying. There was a guy that I kept racing. He'd get into the lead, I'd pick up the pace and take over, then he'd pass me. This went on for the end of the race. As I came down the last valley to start the final big hill to the finish and there they were. At least 10 people all in blue from my T3 team cheering me on. My run picked up pace and I wanted to make them all proud with a strong finish. As soon as I started running faster I heard the most familiar sound in my life. My mom's voice cheering me on. She was there with Charlie and they were ringing their loud ass (and very authentic) cow bells. Her voice was the frantic cheer that I remember from all the cheer-able moments in my life.
I came in the finisher's chute and there was more blue cheering me on. There was my dad and Brian and Andrea. And there was the finish line. Once I got through the finish there were members from other teams to congratulate me. I will never get tired of how amazingly awesome this community is full of support.
I got back to my bike to pack up and what was sitting square in the middle of my bright yellow mat? My fucking visor.
Ironman Muncie by the numbers:
too many to count - snot rockets
24 - salt stick tablets consumed
15 - cups of ice dumped down the front of my bra
9 - number of times I got kicked during the swim
7 - miss-fired snot rockets (hey, it happens to everyone)
4 - cups of ice dumped down my shorts
1.5 - number of miles a bee followed me on the run (that shoulda got me runnin'!)
1 - missing visor
0 - number of times I felt like quitting
Thanks to everyone who supported me! Many more races and updates to come!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
You don't need a voice
In order to do a 70.3 Ironman, right? Tuesday night I started to get that tickle in my throat. You know the one, "oh shit, I'm going to get sick." That's what happened. Wednesday I had a clear nose but my throat was sore and my chest was congested.
I've been taking medicine hoping that it's some how allergies related. Although now, I hardly have a voice. You don't need a voice in order to race, do you?
The congestion seems to be breaking up, so I'm hopeful by Saturday morning I'll be ready to race in this whoturnedonthefuckingoven heat. Tomorrow's the last day I can take medicine as I shouldn't take it race day, so I hope to kick this asshat outta my chest soon.
I've been taking medicine hoping that it's some how allergies related. Although now, I hardly have a voice. You don't need a voice in order to race, do you?
The congestion seems to be breaking up, so I'm hopeful by Saturday morning I'll be ready to race in this whoturnedonthefuckingoven heat. Tomorrow's the last day I can take medicine as I shouldn't take it race day, so I hope to kick this asshat outta my chest soon.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Who do you inspire?
I bet not many of us think about who we inspire by our words and actions. Until I started this journey, I certainly never thought of myself as someone who sparks inspiration in another person. But I can guarantee you inspire someone. You may never know it, but I bet you do. Whether you're someone who has strong work ethic, someone that can speak your mind (or bite your tongue!), someone that gives time, talent and treasure to others in need. Maybe you're someone facing your fears, someone being who you are despite what others thinks, or a great parent, friend or listener. Or perhaps you're creative, crafty or athletic. There's always a quality in you that will inspire someone else.
Many friends shared my first blog post with their entire Facebook network. I was certainly flattered, and quite honestly, a little embarrassed. Now strangers all over were going to be reading about my wetsuit sweats and calling myself fat publicly for the first time. One reader, started stranger and turned friend, contacted me asking if she could interview me for a blog post for Lululemon Athletica. This request was sparked because I inspire her. I was floored. A champion swimmer, amazing yogi (is that right term? It's kinda one of those hard ones like when do you use alum vs. alumni.. head spinning stuff), and pro triathlete thinks I'M inspiring?! How could that even be possible?
We met, had an amazing chat and discovered more connections between us than I would guessed. The story published was lovely and was definitely a highlight to my training thus far.
I've had several people tell me their stories that sparked with me as the source of inspiration. I'm so grateful that people share this. I have been inspired by this and have started telling people when they inspire me. I'm not sure why I was afraid to before; it's a huge compliment to them, no one will ever think you are dumb for saying that you're inspired.
It doesn't have to be a great feat. Just every day people living their life to the fullest. Don't forget, that even when you're not at your best, you still inspire someone, somewhere.
____________________
I'm six days out from Muncie 70.3 and I am so excited! I am feeling incredibly strong; both body and spirit. I went on a great ride with one of my biking mentors and she commented on the visible improvement since our last ride. That is a huge boost of encouragement. I'm so excited for my parents and friends to come into town for my race! I'm so grateful that my family and friends are willing to commit a huge chunk of their Saturday in the skin-melting heat.
I got a new pair of glasses last week that I think will be awesome, they even have air vent holes in the lenses. Right before Eagle Creek my glasses broke, so I bought a new pair. I put them on and they immediately fogged up (you get what you pay for) and so I tucked them into my jersey and they nestled tightly into my cleavage. Around mile 7 they popped right out, slippery little fuckers. I was going to try to be cool and wear an old pair of aviators, but they slip off my face too much and are just annoying; like that case of crabs that just won't go away (right Timpe?!).
Eagle Creek was a good and bad race. Bad in that I thought with all this training I was going to come out and kill the course and post a HUGE PR over last year. I didn't, turns out less than 10 minutes. I was really bummed about that. BUT the good outweigh the bad. I remember last year, I didn't know ANYONE. I stood in the athlete's meeting embarrassed to be the biggest girl out there in my skin tight tri gear and had no one to talk to. This year, still the same chubster as last year, I stood proud in a sea of blue with my teammates. I chatted with people from other teams, people I know from my bike club, BOMF, volunteering and swim clinics. What a world of difference a year makes. You are constantly passing people that you know. Everyone cheers for each other. Everyone encourages you and you encourage them. The downside to this? When you're not pushing yourself as hard as you should be, there's people now there to call you on your shit. Because they know you can push harder.
"Come on Chrissy, run, I know you can" Well fuck, you're right. It's a good thing, you only get better when you train with people better than you.
I will probably be puking sunshine and rainbows all over Facebook this week. But I need to make sure my head is filled with the "you are going to do it" voice and not the "you fucking can't do it" voice that made the ugly appearance in June. Because I can do it and I just need to keep reminding myself.
Many friends shared my first blog post with their entire Facebook network. I was certainly flattered, and quite honestly, a little embarrassed. Now strangers all over were going to be reading about my wetsuit sweats and calling myself fat publicly for the first time. One reader, started stranger and turned friend, contacted me asking if she could interview me for a blog post for Lululemon Athletica. This request was sparked because I inspire her. I was floored. A champion swimmer, amazing yogi (is that right term? It's kinda one of those hard ones like when do you use alum vs. alumni.. head spinning stuff), and pro triathlete thinks I'M inspiring?! How could that even be possible?
We met, had an amazing chat and discovered more connections between us than I would guessed. The story published was lovely and was definitely a highlight to my training thus far.
I've had several people tell me their stories that sparked with me as the source of inspiration. I'm so grateful that people share this. I have been inspired by this and have started telling people when they inspire me. I'm not sure why I was afraid to before; it's a huge compliment to them, no one will ever think you are dumb for saying that you're inspired.
It doesn't have to be a great feat. Just every day people living their life to the fullest. Don't forget, that even when you're not at your best, you still inspire someone, somewhere.
____________________
I'm six days out from Muncie 70.3 and I am so excited! I am feeling incredibly strong; both body and spirit. I went on a great ride with one of my biking mentors and she commented on the visible improvement since our last ride. That is a huge boost of encouragement. I'm so excited for my parents and friends to come into town for my race! I'm so grateful that my family and friends are willing to commit a huge chunk of their Saturday in the skin-melting heat.
I got a new pair of glasses last week that I think will be awesome, they even have air vent holes in the lenses. Right before Eagle Creek my glasses broke, so I bought a new pair. I put them on and they immediately fogged up (you get what you pay for) and so I tucked them into my jersey and they nestled tightly into my cleavage. Around mile 7 they popped right out, slippery little fuckers. I was going to try to be cool and wear an old pair of aviators, but they slip off my face too much and are just annoying; like that case of crabs that just won't go away (right Timpe?!).
Eagle Creek was a good and bad race. Bad in that I thought with all this training I was going to come out and kill the course and post a HUGE PR over last year. I didn't, turns out less than 10 minutes. I was really bummed about that. BUT the good outweigh the bad. I remember last year, I didn't know ANYONE. I stood in the athlete's meeting embarrassed to be the biggest girl out there in my skin tight tri gear and had no one to talk to. This year, still the same chubster as last year, I stood proud in a sea of blue with my teammates. I chatted with people from other teams, people I know from my bike club, BOMF, volunteering and swim clinics. What a world of difference a year makes. You are constantly passing people that you know. Everyone cheers for each other. Everyone encourages you and you encourage them. The downside to this? When you're not pushing yourself as hard as you should be, there's people now there to call you on your shit. Because they know you can push harder.
"Come on Chrissy, run, I know you can" Well fuck, you're right. It's a good thing, you only get better when you train with people better than you.
I will probably be puking sunshine and rainbows all over Facebook this week. But I need to make sure my head is filled with the "you are going to do it" voice and not the "you fucking can't do it" voice that made the ugly appearance in June. Because I can do it and I just need to keep reminding myself.
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