How does that work?

I've had various friends cult members, try to convince me that CrossFit would be good for my biking and running. And a good way to drop weight. Build strength. Make friends. You get the idea.

I have heard mixed reviews about CrossFit. I've heard that the injury rate is high, so I didn't want to take any chances before Arizona. But I did my research and found that if you go to a good box, one that is good about watching form, you're really going to get a good workout. For those of you, like me, that had no clue what the fuck a box is, a box is often what the gym is referred to.

I had started thinking back in October that I would try out CrossFit in the off season. Three weeks after my race I decided to get off my lazy ass and get back to things. I set some goals, renewed my commitment to my races next year and went to my first class on Monday.

It was an "easy" week as they were having a weight competition this past weekend so everyone was tapering. Clearly I'm not intimidated by much, but I'm always intimidated when I walk in. I've been in several times to pick things up and I feel out of place.

I have to admit that I was surprised how friendly everyone was. Probably the first time I've been somewhere in which the girls come up and introduce themselves. Our workout was pretty light: rowing, l-sits and a lot of deep stretching. The WOD (Workout of the Day) was 15 minutes, rotating between 20 chest to the floor push-ups and 50 air squats. I got through 4 sets and while it was a big push, I didn't feel like I went balls to the wall.

I thought it was a good idea to go to hot yoga after. Hahah, fucking worst. idea. ever. I made it through about 15 minutes before my arms and legs wouldn't do anything but quiver. So I spent the next 60 minutes doing wall stretches and just laying there in agony.

Tuesday I could barely walk down the stairs. Going up the stairs took twice as long. I could barely lift my arms enough to dry my hair. Forget sleeping. Who knew you used your triceps when you were sleeping.

Wednesday was even worse. It took me 5 minutes to get down the stairs in my house. I made it down two steps and decided it might be easier to slide down my ass. I finally lowered myself to sit down and made it down two steps. It was going to be better to walk down the stairs. It was hard to get up with clothes and my phone in my hand as I was headed out to run with the guys. I thought about throwing the clothes down the stairs but then I realized picking them up at the bottom would take all day. I finally got myself up and it took forever to get down the stairs. I awkwardly walked for 30 minutes with the guys, curbs were not fun. It took me like a minute of pep talk to squat to go to the bathroom. I took the elevator a floor at work. It took me 30 seconds to negotiate with myself to go down the 3 front steps.

Thursday I couldn't even lift my arms enough to put on a sports bra. I couldn't use my round brush to blow dry my hair. Of course when I finally got the tip to go backwards down the stairs I could hobble my way down the stairs.

I was in too much pain to go back or do any working out, but at this point I've screwed myself by not going back. The lactic acid has built up in my muscles so bad that I can barely move. I didn't do shit all week. Luckily I went to do service work on Friday, packing and lifting boxes, it wasn't comfortable, but it finally made everything feel better.

Today I was able to run a 5K again. I have decided to run one every Sunday to keep track of how my running is coming along. I took some time off last week, so I'm encouraged.

I can move, non-stop for 18.5 hours in an Ironman and manage to feel okay enough to fly home two days later. But 80 push-ups and 200 squats take me out for an entire week. How does that work?!

Yes, I'm going back to Crossfit 3 times this week. I figured the first few times I rode my bike for longer than an hour I couldn't walk for the next day and now I can ride 7 hours. So this will get easier too, right?

The aftermath

With about .2 miles to go we turn the bend headed on Rio Salado to the finish and I see a crowd of about 40 people standing on the side of the road. I'm confused and then I realize they are screaming my name and clapping. As I choke up I toss my water bottle to Andrea and tell her I think I have it in me to run and I owe it to everyone out here. As I come through the crowd I say thank you over and over and comment that I'm blown away strangers are out cheering. As I pass everyone starts jogging behind me, I look to the right and I don't even know who the woman is, but she's saying "great job Chrissy."

I get to the finish area and the Iroman carpet is rolled out. There's a group at the finish cheering. I see David and Glenn. People are banging on the bleachers and banging noise makers, cheering my name. There's a finish line hung across the line and I am barely able to break the tape. The cheers ring in my ears and I can't believe the longest day of my life has come to an end; it concluded with a huge smile. An end that concluded 140.6 miles.

Thanks Jen for the finisher's video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UcQISu9gH8)



David and Glenn greet me with big hugs. David puts a medal over my head and tells the crowd "Chrissy you are an Ironman." Everyone cheers and cameras go wild. I tell David that I'm coming back in 2014 to volunteer so I can register for 2015. I'm offered the chance to come back and race in 2014 and everyone says "do it!" They bring me a bottle of champagne and offer a cold pizza.

David and Glenn

As I would find out later the strangers were people waiting in line to register for 2014. Or people working the last shift cleaning up the finish area. After the race I found out that at 1:25 AM the workers cleaning up the finish line hear "we have a finisher" and they drop everything to roll out the Ironman carpet and string up a finish line. People shared stranger's posts on Facebook with me and many commented that my finish was the best part of the day. Thank you to everyone; I'm so grateful that people care about others and did a wonderful job of making my finish a big deal and an experience I'll never forget.

Here I am, exactly two weeks after the race, sitting in Arizona looking at the mountains and feeling the sunshine on my face. The longest day of my life seems like a lifetime away. I'm not sure how that is possible. I've driven on the Bee Line half a dozen times, it doesn't seem like just 14 days ago I rode up and down and up and down and up and down it. I went to the ASU game last night and took the time to look out at Tempe town lake and I couldn't quite believe the swim took place there. It looked like such a long way to swim from the Mill Ave bridge past Rural, almost to McClintock and back. Looking out at the run course, I can't help but feel like I failed. I fell apart for various reasons. But I want to say I have no excuses. It is what it is. No matter what feelings I have, how much I can wish or pray, I can't go back to 11/17/2013 and change anything.

I believe in a higher power. I believe that no matter how shitty something is at the time, everything happens for a reason. In every experience we can find gratitude and something to be thankful for. My attempt at Ironman Arizona is no exception to my beliefs. A lot of things in my life have taken me longer to achieve than other people.

Everything in life is an experience to draw from and learn from. I can say that I'm living a dream with my job. Being Executive Director for Back on My Feet allows me to use all of my skills and marry it with my passions to make a difference in other people's lives. But many people don't know that I actually interviewed for this position 18 months ago. I made it to the final round and was not selected. At the time, I was so confused and disappointed. But being able to reflect and look back, I realized that there were skills I still needed to develop in order for it to be the right position for me and the right fit for the organization's needs. I now know that this time is the right time in my life for this position.

I don't think Ironman is any different. It's taken me four 70.3 races to get better at racing, to achieve some incredible PR's. So why would I think that a 140.6 race would be any different? While I made Ironman training a huge focus in my life, I refused to make it my only focus. That's not who I am. I'm not going to sacrifice my core value of service. I wanted my first attempt to be about something greater than me and I think raising more than $16,000 for those in need in Indianapolis makes that clear.

I wouldn't trade this experience for anything in the world. The lesson is I know I can 140.6 miles. I did the same course as everyone out there that day. Yes, it took me a hellofa lot longer, but I went the same distance. Now I need to figure out the formula to make it happen faster. I know I have it in me, I just need to keep digging, I've proven that this entire season.

When people told me I should quit, I didn't. I kept going. Although there were plenty of times I wanted to quit, hell I prayed for god to help me quit, it didn't happen. I can draw upon that experience and apply it to any aspect of my life. I know there's a beginning, middle and end. No matter what shit I wade through, how much the odds are against me or how much my mind tells me no, I can make it though.

Do I consider myself an Ironman? No. Ironman has rules and I didn't finish under 17 hours. But I went the distance, so I consider myself a finisher. How many people would have kept going?

The support during this journey has been incredible. I cannot express my gratitude for everyone who supported me to help raise more than $16,000. That will buy 160 pairs of running shoes to help homeless change the way they see themselves through running. That's 160 smiling faces that will learn to love themselves and find the courage to take the step toward self sufficiency. Thank you.

Back on My Feet Indianapolis circling up

The outpouring of love, encouragement and support for me to get to the finish is overwhelming. In a world of such shit with politics, violence and hate, it's beautiful to see people lift someone else up. The messages on Facebook, Twitter, email, texts, calls, etc. took me a few days to read through. It brought me to tears to have so many people from within and outside the sport of triathlon offer their congratulations and express how proud they are. From close friends, family, acquaintances and even strangers. Thank you.

There were many people on the course with me that day in spirit. Thank you. To those who were there in person, I am forever grateful. Sarg, Sass, Chrisann, Marti, Chris, Andrea, Heather, Julie and Gina - thank you for being on the run course with me when I needed it. Sarg and Sass - I owe you both a new pair of Newtons! I'm sorry I was a grouch. Sarg and Chrisann - thanks for being my mobile aid station the last 7 miles.

Brian, Nicole, Jen, Stephanie, Klayton, Kerry, Danny, Monika, Jill, Debbie, Mark, Michelle, Kristina, Chris, Kelly, Ryan, Katherine, Catherine, Brenda, Deb - Thanks for being on the course and helping cheer me on. Thank you for being a part of the last few miles to keep me in good spirits.

David and Glenn - thanks for being there for me at the finish in Kansas and Arizona. I appreciate your interest in my journey and look forward to seeing you at many races for many years!

Dad and Mom - thank you for your unconditional support and love during this journey. It has been such a life changing experience that wouldn't be possible without your support and SassyRoo :)

Coming back a non-Ironman hasn't been 100% positive. There's been some rude comments from people; but that's okay. I give these people props for speaking their mind. There's been silence from people as well. Don't think I'm stupid. I know you're sitting in silence judging me.  I know you're comparing me to others or your own races. It's okay, judge away, it won't keep me from coming back to try again.

I'm so lucky that I learned the value of the journey and not the focus on the destination. If I was only focused on the destination I would never have made it this far, I would have quit the very first tri I did when I finished last and was not like everyone else out there racing. I would have missed a lot of wonderful gifts, lessons and friends along the way. I used to be embarrassed that I took the path less traveled. That I did things my own way and found my own trail. But now I'm proud that I don't do things like everyone else. I know that my experiences, failures and successes have defined who I am. I go my own way, and I'm okay with that.

What's next? I have a lot of work to do in the off season. I've taken two weeks to recover, now it's time to get back at it. I'm going to go take on Ironman Kansas again and possibly do another Ironman 140.6. I need to evaluate and make sure it's the right time for me to go again.

The blog will still continue. There's still a lot of adventures to be had. My hope is that someone reading this will find the courage to take a risk; do something out of their comfort zone, go against the grain. Because you never know the reward you might find.