Trail of Terror

"Have fun at the race tonight" "U want to run? We have an extra bib" "I'd fucking kill myself on a trail run, but thanks"

Trail runs and I don't mix. At least I don't think. I'm clumsy. I didn't really get to run much of the 5K that morning as one of the guys was having knee issues, so I was still itching to get a run in. Some people were doing the quarter marathon trail run. 6.55 miles, that wouldn't be bad.

"Could I do the quarter marathon?" "Yes, you can even walk it. Mental toughness for IMAZ" and with that I was in.

It was cold as balls last night. It was dark and the trails were snowy. It was my first race with a headlamp. It really had disaster written all over it. After all I've been known to fall over in the snow, landing on my hands and knees. Hell, I even fell over one day just standing. I shifted my weight in new shoes and BOOM! I went right over. Like a tree in the forest.

The quarter marathoners go first. The first quarter of a mile in isn't so bad. The sun is setting, I'm in the trees watching it reflect off the snow, it's cold and quiet. Then I hit the trail that's a single file path, the packed snow is starting to to get icy from being packed down, the trail twists and turns just inches away from the drop off into the water. That was about enough to get me to back track, but I kept going.

It's now dark and here come the half marathoners behind me. There's not enough room to run two wide, they're now on me like a heard of gazelles going after the injured pray. I step off the course and let them all pass by wishing them good luck.

There goes Robert and then Marti and Chris and then Andy. I'm a little over a mile in and I know the marathoners are hot on my trail. There goes Joey. Everyone asks how it is, I give the same reply each time, "I fucking hate this."

Finally, I'm alone as I head to the middle of the reservoir across the gravel and out of the woods. Across the water I can see all the headlights in a line winding their way through the woods. I have to admit it was pretty cool to watch. I actually am enjoying the race at this point.

Back to the woods and reality sets back in, I fucking hate this. I'm realizing a trail run is a terrible idea for someone who usually shuffles as they run. At this point my arches are burning, my hip flexor in my right leg is hurting so bad I can barely life my leg up. I'm crying tears of frustration, I want to run but can't. I pass mile marker 4 and realize that my watch is showing me .35 miles ahead of the markers. Goddamnit. I totally want this to be over and I'm further away from the finish than I thought.

About mile 4.5 I'm about to get lapped by the half winners. I feel frustrated and embarrassed and then think who fucking cares, it's about me, not them. I just don't want to get lapped by my friends. hahahha

There's a series down trees that are pretty high and can't be walked over. At this point I'm having to lift my right leg up with my hands to get it over as my hip flexor is screaming "fuck you" as much as my head is screaming "I fucking hate this."

There's a bridge that ends with a 45 degree angle down. At least 10 people in front of me bite it. At this point I've been happy I haven't fallen, and now I'm afraid I can't avoid it. I wait until there's no light behind me to make my way. I am 10 inches from making it off and I hit ice, slip and twist my right knee. My leg flips behind me and my head thuds against the ground so hard my headlamp flies off. I hear "Chrissy are you okay?" Of fucking course someone who knows me saw bite it. It was a nice friend of a friend, he offered to help me up, but I just needed a minute to regroup.

I get up and my leg is hurting, but it's also pretty frozen after being in the woods for 2 hours, so I'm not sure the depth of the damage. I can walk on it, but it hurts so I limp my way in. 1 mile left and it was the longest mile ever. Fear set in and I started crying hysterically. Shit, I knew I shouldn't have done this, that feeling in my stomach it was a bad idea. Have I fucked up my knee bad? What if this takes me out of training and I can't do IMAZ.

Robert comes up behind me and gives me a hug and then some tough love. "You're walking on it, it's going to be okay." I tell Robert to go ahead and he finishes. Then he comes back to walk to the finish with me, guiding me down the large steps, for which I'm grateful.

My friends in the car talk me off the cliff about my leg being fucked up and help bandage up my bloody knee.

This race was a dumb idea. I'm not brave and adventurous enough to do shit like this. I'm not athletic enough. For the first time I actually thought about trying to find a short cut to finish. But in the middle of the dark woods, that would be a double fucking dumb idea. At the 2nd aid station I thought about asking to get a ride back. Then I woke up and was like wtf. Pretend this is the last few miles of the Ironman and you gotta pull your shit together to get to the finish.

I haven't cried tears of frustration and embarrassment in a race in a LONG time. I felt like a complete pussy, BUT I realized how far I've come. And how much further I still have to go.

I saw all these posts about how some people loved last night. I got bummed out wishing I would have liked it more. Then I realized I don't have to like everything I try. I remembered I don't have to like what other people like. Like a friend said, I tried it, don't like it so now I can focus on what I like.

I don't see anything as a failure if I learned something.

I woke up with a little bruising, a nice gash and some swelling. I was on my bike this morning for 90 minutes and then another hour this afternoon, so I guess I'm not so much of a pussy after all. Maybe in a few days I can get into my car without picking up my leg to get in...

Ups and downs

Last Monday I got caught up at work, then stuck in traffic and was going to be horribly late to cycle so I switched to Tuesday. As I sat at home relaxing for once on a week night it sunk in.

All the doubt and question. Why the fuck am I doing this? No one at work cares if I'm an Ironman. None of my friends care if I'm an Ironman, and quite honestly, I think some of them would prefer I did stop training for this. My family isn't going to love me any differently.

Luckily instead of sitting in this self created shit storm, I decided to reach out a friend that is an Ironman. I asked her why the fuck am I doing this? All she replied with was her experience at the finish line. It all clicked back into sync. Oh yeah idiot, you're doing this for yourself. NO. ONE. ELSE.

So they say right when you're ready to give up you have a breakthrough, so keep going. In class the next day, I killed the workout. Two days later on Thursday, I killed it again. My instructor decided I need to do a Time Trial (TT) a few weeks ahead of the class because I had improved so much in 7 weeks. He mentioned he thought I might set a record for improvement in that sort of time. Talk about breakthrough!

Just a few weeks ago I couldn't get comfortable in the saddle, and kept shifting around. I would have burst of power and energy but would cringe at the words active recovery, because on my rest, I wanted to do that, stop and rest. And now I'm settling in quickly to the class, putting out consistent power and able to push the bar higher each time. Now I'm pumped to take feeling of improvement and get my ass into the pool, because my swim will get better. And get more into my long runs, because they'll get easier.

They also say after a breakthrough comes great catastrophe. So I won't say it was a great catastrophe, but it's been frustrating. I woke up the morning of my TT with a terrible, deep cough and painful sore throat. I've been telling the BOMF guys all week not to run if it's below their neck, so I need to follow my own advice. And here I am 4 days since my last activity and I'm fucking BORED out of my mind. I'm nervous that I'm losing fitness and power during my forced break.

Being bored gives me a lot of time in my own head. I sit here being jealous of every one's long rides and runs showing up all over Facebook today. So I decided to clean. As I was cleaning I started to fear what my life will be like on the other side of Ironman. I've strived my entire adult life to be a well-rounded person with diverse interests and activities. I cannot let the greatest challenge of my life be the only thing that defines me.

So as I started the day bitter that my higher power decided to give me a mandatory time out, I find myself winding down the day grateful. I'm not sure how I keep the Ironman from being my only focus, because I do spend so much time on it, but it will hopefully allow me to manage ups and downs a little better. I'm glad I'm thinking about my life post Ironman now instead of being blindsided and devastated in November, not knowing what the fuck I'm going to do the next morning when I wake up.

Not to mention the lower level of my house no longer look like an episode of horders!

Happy and no buts

I find that when I ask someone if they're happy, I usually get a "yes, but..." With advances in technology, science and overall quality of life, seems like we're always wanting something more.

I had a friend tell me "you made such an amazing transformation in 2012." That statement really caused me to stop and reflect. I thought about the last year and realized that I'm not really any different physically. I'm still short, still very overweight, more in debt, not any closer to being married.

But then I really looked deeper. I AM different. My mental health is the best its ever been. My relationship with others are dynamic and rich. I'M HAPPY WITH NO BUTS.

Do I wish I was skinnier, less in debt, more successful at work, in a romantic relationship? Sure. Does any of this define my happiness? For the first time in my life, I can honestly answer NO.

This past year I really took care of myself and put myself first. I had a year with less resentments and more gratitude. Not everything fell into place or went my way, I had a lot of let down, heartbreak and frustrations. But I knew I could choose happiness in any situation. Making myself happy is an inside job, and I fully embraced that in 2012, I can't expect anything or anyone to make me happy. People, things and experiences can only enhance my core state of happiness.

I know I'm doing what I need to to improve the areas of my life that I'm not satisfied with. Every day I try to work on those areas a little bit more. I'm trusting in a higher power and doing the leg work for improvements. I'm so grateful that my friend made this observation and shared it with me, because the reflection has been powerful.

2013 is going to be even better, I can just feel it.

This blog is dedicated to my dad as I didn't use a SINGLE curse word. I can't fucking believe it. whoops...