Behind these hazel eyes

Oh wait. Fuck. I have brown eyes. I swear sometimes I can't remember anything. Well, same message, there's something behind these eyes.

If we're not friends on Facebook then you don't know that every time I fall off my bike, I've posted something about it. A picture where I fell the first time. A status about falling again exactly a week later. Third week, woohoo! No fall. Week four, doh, Sunday, like clock work I fell over again.

I had a friend ask me how I could put it out to the world. How was I okay with letting people know that  I fall off my bike. Wasn't I afraid that people would be laughing at me and making fun of me as they read their news feed. An Ironman in training doesn't fall off their bike. And if they do, they certainly don't tell anyone, and don't put it on social media. Well, my reply: fuck that. Life happens. We all fall.

But it's how you handle it that makes you a stronger person. By sharing with other people about my falls and setbacks, others can see you don't have to be graceful to go after your goals. By sharing my experiences good AND bad, I hope others see you don't have to be perfect in achieving your goals. You can finish dead last and still make your dreams come true.

Several years ago I would have NEVER posted that on Facebook or let people know this blog existed. Did we even have Facebook? Well, not the point, I digress. I would have only posted the positive. I would have only posted pictures from my good side, untagged hideous pictures of me and turned off my wall so people couldn't have posted anything questionable.

Well, I found out that living in that bubble didn't REALLY make me happy. Living life out loud, coloring outside the lines, taking risks and not caring if people make fun of me, was what made me happy. Sharing my raw feelings, sometimes ugly and sometimes beautiful helps me grow as a person and I only hope it inspires someone else to live the life they love without fear.

Oh shiny object...
So I've got the taper tantrums. I'm not even tapering, this week was lighter but not as light as it would be the week of a big race. Ironman Kansas 70.3 on Sunday will be a long training day. I'll use it to figure out where I'm really sucking (um, swim, god please, I don't want to drown in Kansas, Nick will know and find me) and where I can use some fine tuning.

One second I'm so excited to race a good race Sunday. The next second I'm nervous and nauseous. Repeat. All. Day. Long.

I really shouldn't be nervous. I am CONFIDENT that I'm a million times more prepared for this race than I was Cedar Point 70.3 last September. A) I've been on my bike more than two times in the last two months. 2) My run is getting stronger. D) I'm no longer carrying a bucket from Auto Zone to transition. (Yeah, I was that girl!)

I've been reading race reports. People say it's the toughest course they've done. Ugh. Sometimes too much info isn't good. Okay wipe that shit clean. Time for a pep talk.

I'm going to go out and give it my all. My goal for this race is to make it to the finish without running out of official Ironman time. I'm going to rotate, exhale fully and kick in the swim. I'm going to properly pace myself on the bike and leave some in the tank for the monster hill at mile 50. My mantra on the run is DO NOT FUCKING STOP (DNFS). My brain telling me to walk/slow/stop is my own worse enemy.

I'm going to use the time during the day to reflect. Where I've come from and where I'm going. I have a lot of memories of Kansas as that's where I went to high school. The person I was 15 16 years ago (damn I'm old!) when I left is so different than the person I am today. The person back then thought I had to be married to be happy. If I still thought that I could call my ex boyfriend from high school. The dude has a 6th sense and the second I step foot into Missouri he texts me. It's fucking weird. Of course if I called him I'm pretty sure my parents and most of my friends would disown me.

If you'd like to follow along on Sunday you can follow bib 746 at
www.ironman.com select Ironman Kansas 70.3