My heart is full

It's been a few days and the sting of Sunday is starting to fade. I cannot fully express my gratitude for all of the love and support that was provided to me after the heartache of having to end my day 15 miles short. I'm blown away and quite frankly speechless (which is rare!) at the outpouring of love, support and comments.

I went to make an edit on Tuesday night, less than 24 hours since I posted my race report and I already had 1,000 visitors to that blog entry. Many of you have said it, and I'm starting to believe it, I probably will never know the reach of my story and what inspiration it may provide to others. As I've said all along, this blog and sharing my story was selfish to help me learn, grow and heal. I'm so blessed that many people from all over the globe have tuned in to watch it unfold and cheer me on.

I have some people I'd like to publicly thank in no specific order:

-God and Alanon - through this I have found a renewed contact with my higher power that has made this journey possible. Without this, I would have never passed my fears and made myself vulnerable to share this journey so openly with strangers and friends alike.

-My parents - Your love and support has been unconditional. From embracing your fears of me falling off my bike to understanding the tri lingo, you both are the reason this has all been possible. Thanks for never telling me "you can't." Although, I appreciate your advice Dad, but I can't do the bike last :)

-Brian - You're the closest thing I'll probably ever have to a spouse. You have taken the brunt of my bitchiness, my stress and complaints. You get all of the bad and I only hope that you get some good along with it. Thank you for always believing in me and foregoing a tropical vacation for the last two years so I can chase my dream. Thank you for reminding me that sometimes the greatest gifts and rewards don't come on the 1st, 2nd or 5th try.

-Back on My Feet - my staff and friends Brian and Liz are so supportive of my racing and training and they along with all of our wonderful volunteers, Resident Members (even in other cities) continually serve as my motivation to keep going, regardless of what I'm facing.

-Ironman Staff - Dave & Melinda, BMayes, the GodFather, Tom, Mike - you have ALL made this journey so incredible and one for the story books. I cannot thank you enough for all your love, support, shout outs, smiles, encouragement and just pure awesomeness. I look forward to seeing you at each race. Please know that I will never quit giving it my all and I WILL be racing in 2015. and 16. and 17. You get the idea :-)

-Robert & Ang - you have lifted me up in so much support that I am overwhelmed with your kindness. Thank you so much for always encouraging me and for raising two wonderful daughters. Sarg, thanks for always kicking my ass with a smile and hearty chuckle!

-Andrea, Jessica, Kerry, Danny, Klayton, Nicole, John, Mark, Francis, Ryan, Catherine, Brenda, Tina, Bud & Jill, Robin, Deb, Elysha, Monika and everyone on the course that was out volunteering and cheering. Thank you so much for being out there. Thank you to all my friends that were there in spirit that wanted to be there! Thanks to Marti and Andrea for setting intentions for me in your classes!

-Shea and all the coaches at the Cycle Studio (Kyla, Josh, Julian, Ryan and David) - Last year's Chrissy would have never made the bike cutoff in this year's conditions. Thank you for your coaching and support. Shea thanks for making sure my mind and body got to the start line ready to rally!

-Chris & Matt Tanner - RecoverFast is awesome and that hyperbaric chamber has made the difference in my breathing (and sleep at night!) and my friend even commented on the run Sunday I sounded like a different person.

-Dr. Matt and Apex Therapy (Damon and Jenni) - you all keep me continually able to keep going physically!

-FitLivin' - a great group of local athletes that are here to support each other in their goals, no matter how big or small.

-My family, friends, and AKPsi brothers - I cringe at doing a public call out, because it never fails, you always miss someone, even when you do not mean to. So please know that everyone that has ever said anything to me, read a blog post or supported my fundraising campaign has a stake in my journey. It all matters. It all lifts me up. It all encourages me to keep going.

Through this journey, that isn't even close to being done, I've pushed myself far more than I ever dreamed possible. I've had some huge wins and some disappointing misses, but I'm still here, stronger than ever moving forward. Together we have raised more than $20,000 for Back on My Feet to help change the lives of others - thank you!

What's next?
The next few months will include serious focus on my diet and nutrition. I'm so excited to get back to CrossFit next week and work on strength. 2015 will bring several 70.3 races and RAINStorm. I'll go volunteer at #IMAZ to cheer friends on and register so I can toe that line again in 2016.

“It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.”
― Theodore Roosevelt

Crushed... but it's what I do with it now

The stage was set for crushing my Ironman PR. Instead the day crushed me. But I will not let it define me. I will not let it destroy my spirit. I will be back on the 140.6 course and I will officially finish. 

I went into this race with a solid plan. Reasonable times that were completely achievable. 2:45 per 100 m swim, 16 mph on the bike, 15 minute miles on the run. That with my usually pretty quick transitions would have landed me a sub 16 hour finish. Depending on how the day was going, 17 mph on the bike and 14 mm on the run was not unreasonable. I had put in the training, I was consistent in putting up the times to do this.

Arriving at the race I knew this race was 100% mental at this point. I was in good spirits, positive reinforcement. I checked in Thursday and ran into all my Ironman friends: David & Melinda, Glenn, Bryan and Tom. Great to see everyone and I found out I was going to be mentioned at the athlete's opening ceremony where Mike Reilly mentioned my quest to take care of business this year. Which then lead to filming an interview for the closing banquet video. They also filmed me before the swim start (putting on my wetsuit no less!). All very exciting and I am honored, but I refused to let it break my focus of the finish.

I took it easy Friday. Saturday I did a quick swim, bike, run. All felt good, really good. I wasn't nervous, it wasn't my first rodeo, I felt good. 

I ran into everyone and was able to get pre-race hugs from the Ironman crew. Sarg, Angela and Brian helped me get ready for the swim. I headed out to the water and had to wait in a slow moving line to get in. The water level was too low for us to jump off the dock, so we had to jump off the exit stairs, making it a 300 meter swim to the floating, mass start. I was a little nervous I wasn't going to get to my spot in time for the cannon to go off, but luckily I did. The cannon went off and the washing machine, aka mass start was off! I forgot it took a few hundred yards for things to thin out, until then you're dodging people and there's a lot of starting and stopping. I made it through the turnaround and to orange bouy 1 in 50 minutes. The 2nd half was a little slower, I was losing some steam and having trouble getting refocused. So I played head games. I would look at my watch and give myself 5 minutes through a bouy and a half, or 7 minutes to get to the bridge. Around orange buoy 6 there were waves. The kayaker said it was boats, I looked up. Bullshit, it was wind. Fuck, that meant the bike was going to be fun. The last 150 yards after the 3rd turn headed back to shore seemed to take forever. But I made it out exactly on target with my goal, although I found out later my Garmin said I went 2.7 miles. 

 
In T1 I was greeted by Elysha and she helped me get ready for the bike. It was much different going into the change tent when it was packed. I PR'd my swim by 12 minutes, so it was a different scene than last year!

I went to call for my bike and who's there to hand it off to me but Glenn! Sarg said he saw Glenn who had been given the word that I had made my way so he was waiting. Made my day!

As I headed out I went to turn on my Cateye and it slipped out of the holder and bounced on the ground. It had been working half the time anyway so I just left it. I made my way out to the Bee Line trying to catch my legs and my breath. The head wind going north was bad. And it got worse as I got to the Bee Line. It just sucked. But at the top I saw my family and Klayton and it was a nice reward for climbing against the worst winds in 11 years on race day (I've heard anywhere from 20-30 mile per hour head winds). The tail wind going down was a nice reward too. As I pedaled down (until I ran out of gear) I saw how miserable everyone was climbing.

 
I came down the Bee Line and saw Robin. I came into town and the crowd just re-energizes you! I saw Francis, Andrea, Kerry, Danny, Nicole, John and Mark. I had made it back into town to start loop two within my goal time of 2 hours and 10 minutes (hoping that I could hit 16.5 mph at least). I headed out for loop two and the wind had gotten stronger. Half way out I stopped to pee and stretch my legs. Then I tried my best to pound out the rest of the climb. There were times I just had to stare at the pavement under my wheel to keep my focus. On the way down my vision got blurry. Not sure what that was about. I was 100% on top of my nutrition and handling it well.

After the 2nd climb I was really dreading going back up the Bee Line again. and from the look of the faces around me, I wasn't alone. At this point I'm realizing that once again the race is going to come down to the run. So I tried to just finish the bike so I could have some legs left for the run. I had worked hard on the run this year, I knew I could chase it down, so I prayed to God and finished up the bike.

 

Coming off the bike I wanted to leave it behind me. I know that last year's Chrissy would have never made the cutoff. I was pissed that I wasn't able to really show how much my bike had improved, but who can control the weather. I surprised myself by not getting as frustrated as I could have in the past. It was the longest I have ridden in that strong of head winds and cross winds. It just sucked. As I was coming back down the Bee Line my vision was weird again and I was shocked to see how many people were still coming up the road behind me, at least 300 people, maybe more. (last year there was only about 50.) My time was slower than last year, but it was a fucking hard bike. Have I said that enough :) I saw Jessica, Brenda, Tina and Catherine as I came back in.

Going into the run my legs felt great. Sarg reminded me to shake it off. I shouted back across transition "I know I fucked the bike, it's in the past." I then apologized to the volunteer helping me and she just laughed and said it wasn't the worst she had heard.

I used base salts for the run and they worked great, no cramping. I also was drinking as my plan called for. I had a hard time stomaching gels and I just felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. But nothing. So I kept going. I realized I hadn't tightened my shoes, so as I did the shoelace broke. Mother Fucker. Oh well keep going. I did a decent amount of running, my Garmin showed my pace was okay and getting faster, my splits online tell different. So I need to figure that out, same thing happened at the Monumental.

I came back under the bridge and saw a lot of familiar faces. I saw Ryan as I crossed Priest. I came across the infamous mile marker 19 where my chip was taken last year. As I made it around to mile 9 and 10 I felt like a toy winding down. Sorry to be disgusting but I was starting to feel toxic. I had to crap yet I couldn't. It was making me feel awful. I was not moving well and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open and my mouth closed. Sarg met me and he told me I needed to pick up the pace. I went down the hill into an aid station and got tunnel vision. I couldn't focus my vision, I couldn't really hear what people were saying. I was covered in salt, not just a dusting, but crystals had formed all over my skin. I had the cold sweats, although I wasn't sweating. My hands were numb and I couldn't feel my water bottle in my hand. I got back to the aid station and asked for the medic. I stumbled on the ground and they said my hands were freezing. The wrapped them in a tshirt and trash bag as that was all they had. I started nodding off and they made me keep my head up and my eyes open. When the medic got there I had sipped a bit of water and could at least talk a little bit again. I told the medic that I hadn't peed since about mile 70 on the bike. He asked if I was taking in water and I told him the best I could. He said it was my decision but it wasn't sounding good. At this point I had been sitting waiting for about 15 minutes and the 9 pm cutoff was getting closer. It took 3 people to help me up, so I decided it wasn't worth the risk so I got in the golf cart. Jessica came riding by on her bike and I pointed at her and said I knew her, but I couldn't process who she was. She started hugging me and I immediately started crying. I felt this rush of embarrassment that I had let everyone down. Everyone that traveled to cheer me on. Everyone that was supporting me from every facet of my life. All Ironman crew that were so excited to greet me at the finish. I was so sad myself, I knew I had put the work in, the day just didn't come together like I had hoped.

I went to the medic tent and I swear it takes a fucking act of congress to get an IV in there. I had to sip chicken broth for an hour before I could finally pee and leave. The poor guy next to me kept asking for an IV and they made him lay on the ground with his legs up on a chair, wrapped in a moving blanket before they would consider it. As my friends and family came in to check on me, I started crying all over again. As I looked around at all the finisher hats and medals around me I cried. As I heard rally of the finish line just 100 feet away from me I cried. FUCK. I was here again. I thought if I could finish it last year, I could surely finish this year, and faster. I've heard over and over that's Ironman, just getting to the start line healthy is always a feat in itself.

I cannot thank everyone for their love and support. It's overwhelming and I haven't even begun to go through all the Facebook messages, posts and comments. I'll get through them all, I promise. It's so important to me and I appreciate it more than I can express.

What's next? I have a plan. I have some thoughts. I'll save that for another post. Just know that I AM NOT GIVING UP. Some would say you've failed twice, time to move on. But I know that it's in me, I know I need to evaluate and approach from another angle. There's more to write, my journey is still unfolding; it's unique and it's mine. It's been ugly and joyous, and I've shared it all with you, thanks for following along. It will continue to keep getting better. That much I know.

The F word for Sunday

Sunday's journey centers around one F word. No, not what you're thinking...

F - O - C - U - S

I've put in the training. I'm feeling good physically and mentally. Now the challenge is to stay there until I've crossed that line and heard those sweet words "You are an Ironman."

The last few weeks have taught me it's all mental at this point. I need to put my head in the right place and stay focused. 

And the other saying for the day is I want to have a "Fuck Yes" race! (Thanks Rich for that!) I want to get to the finish line and be able to know that I've given it my all, no regrets.

My favorite saying on the wall at the Cycle Studio:

What are you afraid of?

Passing out?

(You'll live)

Not being able to breathe?

(That will eventually go away)

Not being strong enough to finish?

(You'll find the strength to follow through)

The competition?

(It only makes you work harder)

Give it everything you've got, 

because you should have nothing left in you 

when you cross the finish line.

Be fearless... From Start to Finish

I've unmasked my fears, stopped worrying about what ANYONE else thinks about my journey and am ready to face Sunday. With everything it has to give me, I'm ready. I'm ready to be fearless. I'm ready to give it everything I've got. I'm ready to embrace the suck. I'm ready to be victorious. 

Thanks for all the love and support. You can track online at Ironman.com, click on live results, select Arizona. Bib #1301

Running Transforms

No doubt. Running transforms lives. It doesn't do it right before your eyes, it takes time, sometimes a lot of time.

My friend Anthony was featured on the news last week for losing 100 pounds and using running to make it happen. Running and transformation were good topics for reflection Tuesday on my run along the Hudson River.

The first WTF thought was that I actually was running on vacation. Years ago, I would haven't brought running clothes with me, I wouldn't have even owned any. I certainly wouldn't have used vacation time to workout. Hell I wouldn't have even walked more than 10 blocks, it would have been "let's just hop a quick cab."

I went for a 12 mile run in Central Park last Sunday. I think for the very first time I started to admit that I do love running. I use love lightly at this point, but it's still a long way from HATING it. I thought how lucky am I to have found this sport? What other sport can you pack a pair of shoes and then go anywhere to get your workout in? What other sport lets you explore so many other parts of the city you wouldn't normally see if you hadn't been out for a run.

Sunday as I entered Columbus Circle with this thought, I took off on a trail and just followed it until I found an intersection, then randomly picked a direction. Then went in another direction. Dirt, pebbles, road; it didn't matter. I didn't really look at my watch, just followed where the day took me. For the first time on a run, I hardly walked at all, mainly only to go up some of the hills as I realized that I have shitty hill training and they kill me!

It's been a long road, and I'm still on it for a long time. But it's fun to see progress. It's exciting to see things I NEVER thought I would. It's rewarding to know that hard work does produce rewards, although it may take a while to realize them.

This past Saturday I had a goal to run a 2:45 half marathon. Slow to so many of you, yet lightening fast to me. It was a cold and super windy day. The first mile I ran 2 minutes ahead of pace and I PAID for it miles 2-3.5. My legs hurt so bad as they started to thaw out. I couldn't get my ankles to move and my legs simply were not doing what my brain was telling them to.

Going into mile 4 I knew I wasn't going to make my goal time, there was no way. It was my last chance to ditch out to go back to the finish. I really considered it, I could go get my warmer clothes on and cheer for all our Back on My Feet team members at the finish. My legs hurt. My lungs hurt. I was just done.

Then I remembered I had 50 set of eyes paying attention to what I do. Quitting because you weren't going to make your goal, that was NOT the message I wanted to send to our team members. I tell our members all the time to keep going, evaluate a goal whether made or missed and keep moving forward. I had to let my actions match my words.

I shut my brain off, told the committees in my mind to stop, put my head down and found the first person ahead of me that I wanted to chase down. Chased her down and picked out the next. and the next. and the next. This was the first time in a race that I was picking people off left and right. I ran some of my best miles of the day in the middle of the race.

By the time I got to mile 8, I thought "wow, only 5 more miles left," in the past I would have been "fuck, 5 more miles left??"

The headwind was awful going through mile 8 and by the time there was a tailwind, I just didn't have much left to pick up the pace. It was great to see Back on My Feet at the water station just before Mile 11. At Mile 12 I started walking a bit for the first time since mile 8 and then this girl that I had been trying to ditch all race came up next to me and started walking.

I thought "hell no, she's not beating me to the finish" and I started running again. My goal was to put as much space between her and I going into the finish, 8 steps, 8 feet or 1/2 a mile, she was not going cross first. When I hit the finish, I didn't know where she was behind me, but I knew she wasn't in front of me. I missed my goal time by 12 minutes. I was really bummed, pissed actually. But I still PR'd by 6 minutes and finally broke the 3 hour mark.

This race was a good mental challenge going into Arizona. The lessons I took: start slow and pace is important, shut my fucking head off and just go. I'll hurt for days after, but I can do this. I can do this faster than I think. So just go.

This transformation is still unfolding. There's still improvements and rewards to be had. It's the exact same transformation for our BoMF Team Members. It's progress not perfection and patience and self love is key.

Committee Meeting Minutes, location: in my head

October 20, 2014

Location: Capitol Starbucks

Brain: I call this meeting to order. The first order of business is to swim 1 hour this morning.

Member 1: "What the fuck?! Can't we just stay here inside where it's warm, enjoying coffee and laughter with running buddies?"

Brain: "No, we cannot. 27 days."

Member 2: "But no one else is leaving."

Brain: "Too bad, let's get in the car. NOW"

Change in venue: Natatorium locker room

Member 3: "But your suit is still wet and damp from yesterday's swim?! That's cruel."

Brain: "WE HAVE 27 days, let's get to the pool."

Member 1:  "The longer we sit here with our feet dipped in the pool the more we want to go shower."

Member 2: "No one would know if you didn't swim an hour."

Member 3: "Who's bright idea was a late fall Ironman anyway?"

Member 4: "Get your fucking ass in the pool already. Readjusting your cap won't make the pool any warmer."

Brain: "In we go."

Meeting adjourned after 3,000yd swim

Stop Honking

I'm so fucking sick of cars coming up behind you when you're riding and honking. Are you trying to let me know you're there? Is it your passive aggressive way of saying you hate cyclists. Either way, fucking knock it off! I'm aware of when a car is coming, honking just scares me a tiny bit and makes me jump, so enough already. I suspect the cars that then floor it as they pass are just being assholes.

It was a windy and cold day today. I had my head up my ass when I left this morning and forgot dry (and warm!) clothes to wear after my studio ride as we rode more outside. Fuck, I'm not ready for this cold weather. And I'm certainly too stubborn to turn the heat on in the house, it's only 5 days into October for fuck's sake. I've been too sappy lately in my posts, so the fbombs are back.

Thank you to my friend Tracy for swimming with me on Sundays, keeps me accountable when I'm just ready to be done.

To the crazy lady who decided to sneak in my lane, you're damn right I'm not afraid to splash you with my paddles while you try to keep your hair dry. Go share a lane with the guy that bounces for 10 minutes between laps.

I'm glad Tracy got to witness the Aqua dancer today. This old lady has a lollipop in her mouth and is listening to music while she busts out some Napoleon Dynamite moves in the pool. Oh yeah, she's also sporting sunglasses too. Cracks my shit up every Sunday. Get down with your bad self.

My friend Doozie told me I've gotten so much faster on the bike this past year. Thanks for taking time to tell me :-)

Just proving triathletes aren't always assholes.

Suffering is not pointless

I cannot thank everyone for their support following my last blog post. I felt so loved and protected and for that I am grateful, as those are two emotions I've not always experienced. Some friends reached out saying they weren't sure what to say.

There's really nothing you need to say. And I don't know about you, but sexual molestation and struggles with being fat, um, two awkward topics. What do you say? Selfishly, I post these blogs for me, to get out what I'm working on, to document my progress, pains, struggles and triumphs. I've always said that if something I am going through helps someone else, even in the smallest way, like to make them laugh or think "thank goodness I'm not like that," then it's a dual purpose.

I've come to recognize over the last few years that everything happens for a reason, no suffering is pointless. It's not always something you can embrace when you're going through the shit, but on the other side, it becomes clear. Just like when Tim Robbins' character crawled through 500 yards of shit to get out of Shawshank prison to freedom on the other side. It wasn't a coincidence that he left during a storm, the water cleaning him when he reached the end of the tunnel (it was the writer's infusion of symbolism :-}). Although sometimes I know this to be true, I still struggle with taking the leap of faith at times and embracing it and feeling it in my soul.

From what I can string together, here's what I think. I experienced this as a child, developed mechanisms to cope, which turned into great codependency. Because I was severely codependent I found myself best friends with an addict. Through my friendship with this addict I developed an understanding of addiction and the tools to cope with this through my discovery of Alanon. Through my work in Alanon I have started unlocking the gates to entire new me. This new me found my way to a job that I love and a life of purpose, knowing this is EXACTLY where I'm supposed to be. All the pain and suffering was not without purpose.

When I first entered into Alanon, I had to find a connection with a higher power in order to work the program. Well, I really struggled with this. I had been raised Catholic, so I figured that higher power should be God. I then identified that I resented God. How could God, who was supposed to protect those who believed in Him, loved Him, let such horrible things happen to a young girl like what happened to me? Sparing you the details, with the help of Alanon and others I forgave and found a conscious contact with a God that I believe in.

If you know me well, you know that I don't speak much of religion or politics with many people, that's just me. But I have been yearning for a deeper connection to my God and have been struggling with how to find this.

Some good friends reached out me after my blog post to join them at church today. Without much thought, I accepted. The church was 180 from what I was used to growing up Catholic. But wanting to deepen this connection, I went with an open mind.

I would have sworn the topic was hand picked for me. Just another God moment that I've come to love and appreciate.

"...Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." Romans 5:1-5

Thank you for Mark Vroregop for sharing this message. It was exactly what I need for my head to catch up to my heart, the right words to explain what I knew in my heart, but couldn't quite express in a logical manner.

For the first time in my life, I finally love everything that I am and everything that I know I'm still to become. I know that my journey is still unfolding, the end game will always be an unknown, the end game might not even come clear until after I've left this body. As someone 15 years younger than me once said "Until I love myself, I don't have enough love in my cup to share with others."

To everyone that has shared their love with me until I had the strength and conviction to love myself, thank you. To all my friends struggling, I do now love myself and my cup runneth over, with love to share to you. So borrow my love to get through these difficult times and find comfort in knowing that your suffering is not pointless, have hope that it's taking you to a better you.

To pull from one of my favorite songs by Dave Matthews Band "What I want is what I've not got, but what I need is all around me."

Fear unmasked

This morning was a good one. I saw Jesse at one of our BoMF runs and decided today was the day. I asked him if he wanted to do a run/walk as he was ready, he is one of the fastest walkers. The thing I love about Jesse is he has a positive attitude. He always has a smile and has been willing to do anything we ask of him. I reassured him we'd take it block by block, go at the speed he was comfortable at. It was his first time running with BoMF and he was so proud, the smile never left his face, even though it was humid and he was feeling every step. He said "I'm feeling so alive." I loved that moment, so proud of him and he was so proud of himself, as he should be!

As I run on Wednesdays with the team, I run past Roberts Park Church. That is where my life changed exactly five years ago. After Labor Day in 2009, just before my 30th birthday, I went to my first running class with Coach Hathaway. I had accepted an invitation to run a half marathon that following March, I hadn't run since middle school soccer and field hockey, and for some reason I thought I was going to tackle 13.1 miles?! At the end of our class we went for a group run. I knew I would start out in the walking group, I made it about a half of a mile and had to turn back. My ankles and shins were so tight and I was in so much pain. I went in and told the coach I was quitting. He told me to come back, it would get easier.

Little did I realize this was going to be the first step toward the rest of my life. Just like our team members, sometimes they realize it and sometimes they don't, but it's the first step to a new person.

Early on, growing up I was an average kid, you look at pictures, I even look average. But, behind closed doors, where no one, not even my parents knew, something not average was happening. Someone that I should be able to trust was sexually molesting me. Someone that should be protecting me was forever changing the course of my life. Looking back at pictures, I know exactly when it stopped. From one school year to the next I ballooned up. Between 5 and 6. What I didn't realize at the time it was that was a subconscious way of protecting myself from ever being hurt like that again. Growing up, I grew out, always one of the largest kids in the grade. Out of this, grew coping mechanisms. My humor and my care for others (which would later develop into severe codependency) were things I used to get people to like me and accept me despite looking different from others.

With this came struggle with my weight, not remembering what it was to be a "normal" size or do things with ease that other kids my age were doing. But out of that came my stick-to-itness, fuck-it and don't quit attitude. Everyone that struggles with body image, regardless of why or how and has issues. Mine was I never knew any different from what I could remember, so these masks that I had developed, became permanent to who I was.

When the molestation came out many years later and I faced this person, I thought the shackles that kept me prisoner in my own body would magically disappear. I thought that it would be the key to losing this weight that I carried for far too long. But I quickly realized it didn't happen like that. I had developed these masks and it had become who I was, maybe even who I was destined to be. My habits weren't going to change overnight just because I had been freed from carrying this secret.

I tried to make changes. But I started unwinding this huge entwined ball of fear. Who was I without the weight? Would I really find happiness on the other side? Would I really find a healthy relationship with a man that I thought I deserved? What about having to get some reconstructive surgery? What if people didn't like me anymore?  Even stupid shit like people knew me with big boobs, what would happen when they disappeared? What personality was really hiding under all this fat? Even though I had identified this I let the fear of the unknown cripple me.

Five years ago, when I accepted this challenge of a half marathon, I had no clue I'd start facing these fears head on. I just knew I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. It was after preparing for my first Alanon lead that I realized what I was up against, why the fear froze me and that I needed to surrender. Once I said the word surrender, it started for feel more freeing and less scary.

So fast forward five years, I have made so much progress, yet really none at all. While I've lost nearly 45 pounds and can now completed a 140.6 mile Ironman, I still face fear. I still can't quite break the plateau and lose the rest of the weight. I am proud to post pictures of my transformation as I love looking at other's pictures. Yet, I get so incredibly uncomfortable when anyone wants to talk about the transformation in person. I think it's because I'm faced head on with the shame that I was ever that person to begin with and that I haven't made more progress in that amount of time.

I realize the fear is deeper than I first recognized and that it has somewhat morphed. I realized in July that I do triathlon because I love it. I also realized that if I lose weight, it makes something I love so much easier. That makes the weight loss about a calculated and precise outcome. I'll get faster. Period. It's physics. It takes the unknown out of the fear of weight loss; such as will I finally meet a mate (because if I get the "why are you still single? you're too great to not be with someone" line again I'm going to go ape shit!), will my personality change? I don't know those answers and have been too scared to see what they are. And as I type this, these questions out loud sound so ridiculous to me, but they are questions that scare the shit out of me.

I started writing this blog because I wanted to be honest with myself. It has helped me heal in so many ways. It has keep me real with myself. And from what people tell me, it has inspired many, some are faces I'll never know. But much like the molestation, it pushed me into a mold that I didn't realize, intend or pick on my own. It has brought my story to the attention of many, an attention I wasn't prepared for or wanted, but I'm not going to lie, I love knowing so many people in the sport! This story I've shared and my attitude has caught the attention of some people at WTC (and Ironband) that has made my journey unlike ANYONE else in the sport to come thus far.

At races I'm that noticeably the slowest, largest and most out of place person there. I've accepted that. And I've embraced that. Although with it comes a lot of snickers, shocked looks and reactions and judgment behind your back; it also comes with a lot of praise, support and accolades. So if I get faster, get thinner, then I disappear into the crowd. I'm just another average triathlete racing. I realize after some shit that happened this season, I'm really okay with that. But it's just another mask I'll have to shed but first I had to identify the fear behind it.

Today after running with Jesse, I ran some on my own to get the rest of my workout in. Maybe it was the high I got from watching Jesse try something and succeed, maybe it was the 3 cups of coffee I had in between, maybe it was the conversation I had with a dear friend, whatever it was, I was running sub 12 minute miles for 5 miles to finish my workout. For the first time in my life, I got that runner's high as I had a full running stride. Not just a fast jog, not a shuffle, but a full out run; when I saw my legs in a store window, I didn't recognize them or the stride.

What a long way from that girl who couldn't walk a half mile at an 18 minute pace without being miserable. All it took was to break apart FEAR.

Instead of Fuck Everything and Run
I'm choosing
Face Everything and Recover

The journey is far from over. As I see it, it's just beginning. Just as I'm happy to help those around me in BoMF keep at it and pushing themselves, I'm so very glad that Coach Hathaway (Rest in Peace) told me to keep coming back.

A puke and rally fail

Racine was a last minute add. Well, last minute as in the last three weeks. I registered so late I didn't even have my name on my bib, wasn't on the t-shirt and had to fill out my medical form when I arrived.

The weather shaped up for a great race day. It was a pretty smooth swim, not the waves like usual, the bike was mild and the run wasn't nearly as hot as previous years.

I had a great weekend. Good company, great to see the crew: Glenn, David, BMayes and Tom (the carny as I found out they sometimes call themselves. lol) and I finally realized why I do triathlon.

I've struggled since I started to really be able to answer anyone when they ask "Why." Well, it came to me in a moment of clarity in the shower Saturday morning. I do it because it makes me happy.

Saturday night after my usual pre-race meal I wasn't feeling super swell. It carried into Sunday morning. My stomach as feeling like it did before RAIN last Saturday. This time I was able to keep food down, but ate super slow and had to take small bites. As we were walking to transition, I started getting cold sweats. It was a perfect morning, no reason for sweating of any kind.

The swim was butt ass cold at 61.4 degrees. I wore my wetsuit, a single cap, ear plugs and booties. It took me about 500 meters to get my shit together and keep my face consistently in the water, before that it was a lot shitty freestyle mixed with breast stroke. I think a lot of people were on the struggle bus as the water was pretty choppy and so that didn't feel so great on my stomach. After that I probably had the most focused swim I've had yet, I swam buoy to buoy, no stopping or poking around until I got to the orange buoy 6. (Shiny object moment: There are no greater sights in a triathlon than the finish line and the first orange buoy. That's the buoy that means you're halfway.)

I started getting cramps in my hamstrings, a new one for me. The kind of cramps where your entire leg freezes up and you get this second of panic that you'll sink. But you bob in your wetsuit and stretch. Happened a few times then I was back on my way. My swim was meh. 5 minutes slower than goal. It's a pretty long climb off the beach and back to transition.

I saw Glenn in transition and he told me I can pick it up on the bike. I headed out on the bike and my stomach wasn't feeling great. The bike course has a lot of bumps in the pavement, but nothing much worse than what we ride every day in the country roads. But the bumps didn't make for fun times with my stomach. I feel some cramps coming on my calves and Achilles. I took some extra salt to stay ahead of it. The entire ride the cramps never set in, just teased. The first 20 miles I had a very consistent pain in my lower right side. It felt like I was going to give birth to the devil or something with horns out my side. After the first aid station it went away. My stomach still hurt but there would be stretches of 4 or 5 minutes when I felt okay so I would hammer it. Then I would back off when I wasn't feeling as well. There were a few false flat hills but other than that, bike wasn't bad. A lot of turns, but most of them wide and gravel free. I played cat and mouse with a few people and then finally pulled ahead. (A few of them later told me when they passed me on the run that once I pulled away I was GONE, I told them and you're catching me on the run; bike for show, run for dough.) I knew my bike wasn't as strong as it should have been but it wasn't awful. I saw BMayes twice on the bike and it made me smile. (Another shiny object moment: I was disappointed to see how many people had ear buds for the bike and the run. Doesn't anyone follow the rules?)

As I was coming into transition I knew that between cramps and my stomach I was going to have to piece a miracle together to make this run happen. I said a little prayer to God as I got off. I ran past Tom and he said he was going to radio to David that I was off the bike, I heard it as I ran off and it made me smile. I was behind my goal time on the swim and bike, but not by too much, a sub 8 hour finish was still in the cards. That was my goal for the day, which few people knew.

I stuck to my 3/1 plan on the run. Taking a few more walk breaks in the first mile to catch my breath. As I got to mile two the cramps started working themselves out and my legs started to feeling better. The first mile was the slowest and then I started picking up pace. I even got to see Brian finishing the run, which I don't think has ever happened. Hitting 15's at the end of mile 3. Legs were actually feeling good and dropping to a sub 15 between 3 and 4. Then before mile 4 I felt my stomach wasn't going to cooperate unless I did something. I stopped at a Port O Let and nothing. I was just shy of mile marker 4 and was doubled over thinking I was going to puke. Someone screamed "puke and rally." Which was my plan. I decided to move over the side of the road and I started throwing up. 3 or 4 times, I lost count, but bad enough that another athlete felt the need to tell medic, who came up behind me. They gave me some perform to drink, I took a few sips down and felt better. I actually started running and feeling okay. Sweet, puke and rally worked! So maybe a sub 8 is gone, but a PR (from 8:19 in Cedar Point) is totally still do-able.

Then sometime after 4.5 I puked up the perform. I sipped some water and walked toward mile 5. Then I puked again. I sat on the curb this time and put my head down. Someone came by and said "turn your head, your shoes are too pretty to puke on." lol The medic came by again and gave me perform. I walked toward the turn around, but as I got to the zoo, I threw up again. So talked to the medic AGAIN and decided to walk in to the medic station at the finish line and call it a day. I was so hoping I would run into someone I knew to talk it through logically, did I have to quit? Couldn't I keep going?

I started sobbing like a baby at that point. The stubborn side of me DID NOT want to quit. I had 3 hours until the course closed, plenty of time to walk the rest of the race. But was it smart to walk that far if I couldn't keep liquids down? I felt okay otherwise and was walking at an okay pace. But what would I be like in 2 hours?

Some lady stopped and asked what was wrong. I told her, she said try flat coke, always soothes upset stomachs. Oh yeah! The one thing I hadn't tried. That would work! I walked past the finish line and headed to the aid station at the run turn around. I took some flat coke and sipped it slowly as I walked up the hill toward the rest of the run course. Then I started cramping in my calves. I got maybe .25 miles and it started to come back up. Fuck. It didn't work. And now I'm cramping with no way to stop it.

So I turned around and walked with people who were less than half a mile from finishing their race (or starting their 2nd lap). Since I still had my timing chip on, I took the path that was above the finish line and walked through the park to the medic tent. I sat down and immediately starting crying so hard they couldn't understand a single word I was saying. Crying although no tears were coming out, I'm not sure I've ever experienced that. I was SO DISAPPOINTED to end the day this way. They gave me an anti-nausea medicine and made me drink perform before I could leave.

As I left the medic tent I ran into Glenn. He gave me the biggest hug as I started crying again. He gave me the best pep talk. Asking me what were my goals for the year? Finish IMKS and IMAZ. Racine wasn't in there, this was an add-on. It doesn't matter. I'm half way to my goal, focus on that. He and David couldn't wait to greet me at the finish in Arizona. They didn't love me any less because of today. He said something that made me laugh and cry. As I handed Glenn my timing chip, I joked that we should find Tom to come take it since he's always taken it before. hahaha

Such good people. I got a nice text from David and a message from BMayes. Lots of encouraging messages from people. One of our Resident Members wrote me a super sweet note about how I inspire her. Tri Brian was kind enough to get all my shit out of transition earlier in the day and assured me that a DNF didn't matter and not to think twice about it. I give Brian a lot of shit, but when it matters he's always there to support me.

I thought back over my race, a sub 8 was not impossible, even if it was a slow day for me based on time. I need to let this go. Learn from it what I can, go see a dr. to see what the issue is and keep moving forward. Keep working on improving so that finish in Arizona is a great as it can be. Not to be on the struggle bus, enjoy the day, smile and race. Celebrate the glory with people who are as excited as I am for the finish.

Disappointed my puke and rally days might be over. I could rally like a champ in my drinking days.

There was an opportunity to post this on an Ironman board today. While there's still a lot of work to be done, I can't forget to look back at progress and use that to inspire me to keep moving forward. Lots of great things ahead.

A week in the saddle AKA RAINStorm

Ride your bike 160 miles in one day = RAIN (Ride Across Indiana)

Ride your bike 100 miles a day for 5 days = Storm (Same thing only ride more)

Put them together and what do you get? A shit ton of time in the saddle, err... RAINStorm

I was encouraged to sign up for RS. Figured the person who told me to sign up (*cough* Tri Brian) knew if I could do this or not. So I didn't bother to freak myself out by looking at the elevation gains, the maps, the comments, etc.

I wasn't nervous going into it. I figured I would just chip away at it like I do everything else. Well, I'm going to get the negativity out now, I fucking bit off WAY more than I could chew. I knew that within 50 miles of day one. I won't lie, my initial thoughts were "who's going to come get me as I'm not going to survive this week?" and "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?'

Here's the thing, I took a week of vacation to ride the storm. I told myself before I left, I need to have fun, because it is vacation. If I'm not having fun then why bother. I needed to relax some as this was my break from work and life. I needed to unplug and just enjoy the week and all it had to offer.

Well, I'll save you the suspense. I didn't ride 100 miles a day. I rode 84.5 on average each day M-F. I rode about 60 miles and then caught rides with Bill the mechanic from one SAG stop to the next and then got back on my bike and finished the day. With the exception of Friday, I took SAG rides on the flat parts, so I didn't skip any climbs! Could I have rode the full 100? Absolutely! Would I have enjoyed it as a vacation? No fucking way.

By cutting about 15 miles off each day I was able to get back to the hotel about the same time as most of the group. I was able to shower before dinner and have some down time. I was able to enjoy the ride a little bit more and look around. It felt more like a vacation. I ended up having a great time and meeting some really cool people from all over the country. I ended up being the youngest one there with probably the least amount of biking experience. The week was full of some really amazingly strong riders, some hysterical people and supportive souls.

Saturday was a total bust. Thursday and Friday mornings my stomach was a bit unsettled as I ate breakfast. So when I couldn't get anything down on Saturday morning before RAIN, I wasn't surprised, I took it with me and figured I could get some down on the bike. I took off and about mile 5 I was finally able to get a sip of nutrition down. Then the 2nd sip came back up. So I took some water with Scratch. That came back up as well as did some of my dinner.

After about an hour of throwing up, I had to make a decision. I wanted to go as far as I could, but I knew that another 144 wasn't in the cards since I was already behind in nutrition. There were plenty of RAIN personal SAG vehicles, but no official ones. STORM has some SAG drivers out that can come get us. I knew that they hadn't left the hotel yet, so if I need a ride in, I should call sooner rather than later. I'd hate for them to have to backtrack from Richmond to have to get me. So I call Kathy to come get me and call it at day at mile 16. There's some nice women who give me a bottle of water as they wait for their brother to come through. If I take tiny sips, I can keep plain water down. 

Later that night I would be back at the RAIN finish line so Brian can get his extra wheel from someone. I feel this huge punch of regret. The questions start flying "what could I have done differently? Could I have waited an hour and then tried to get something down and keep going?" "Could I have made it to Franklin and bailed at a friend's house?" As we drive back on 40 watching the cyclists ride toward the finish I see my friend that passed me as I was stopped at 16. I saw the group I was riding with that morning and the final twist of the knife makes me sad. I feel like I failed. Well I did fail, because for the first time I quit a race. So many times I've wanted to quit but never did. This time I actually did. It's a shitty feeling. Still, even today.

The week was a wonderful experience. The STORM was so well organized, Kathy and Mark do a wonderful job of mapping everything out. The SAG support from them, Bill, Steve and Larry is incredible. It really is a fun time, even without a beach, sun and water.

I rode 98% of the week by myself. That's a lot of time to be alone with your thoughts. Here are some takeaways from the week:

-Life really is about peaks and valleys. Sometimes you're on top of the world feeling great and other times you're low in the valley facing a terrible, steep climb. In the end, it all evens out. 

-The steep climbs are a bitch. I lost my breath, I cursed, my legs ached, sometimes I had to walk my bike and I wanted to stop. But at the top of the steep climbs was usually an amazing view of the world below and a fun and fast decent down the other side. Sometimes we have to wade through shit to get to something good. Something that is usually better than we could ever imagine.

-I have become entirely too cynical and I have allowed others to influence me to suppress my joy. I complained way too much this week. Yes, there's fucking climbs in southern Indiana, it's a fact. Stating that isn't going to make them any better or make them go away. It's like saying "it's hot" well yeah, what's the point. We all know it's hot, saying it isn't going to make it cooler. You're not any hotter than anyone else, so shut up about it already. I will always be sarcastic, it's like a racehorse, it's in my blood. But I don't have to be a bitch. I'm not the nice person I used to be and I need to find that person again.

-After being on my bike for a week, my undercarriage doesn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Lube up often and early, best advice I'll give.

-The difference between 100 miles a day miserable and 100 miles a day in a vacation-like state is 40lbs. I bought kitty litter before I left and when I picked up the 40lb box it dawned on me that I'm carrying this around with me every where I go. Fuck, that's heavy. So it's time to start focusing on that again. I'm not sure if I've been ignoring it or what, but it needs to be the main focus. Clean eating and lots of water.

-Gratitude is at the heart of everything. I was so full of gratitude the entire week: being mentally, physically, financially and spiritually able to take a week to ride my bike every day. Being grateful that my friends understand why this was a better way for me mentally and physically to spend a week of vacation. Being grateful for the lessons I learned this week and the ones that were reinforced.

This week pushed me outside of comfortable. Just when I think I know my limits, I shove myself out further. Did I have the week I wanted or thought I would performance-wise? No. Did I learn a lot and sharpen my focus? Absolutely.

I know I'm the strongest I've ever been on the bike. I know I'm well ahead of the curve from last year for IMAZ. I know that I can do all my century rides alone this year and I'm only going to get stronger. I know that all the hard work ahead of me, all the steep climbs, heartache and tears are going to provide rewards greater than I could ever imagine. Leading me to the biggest lesson of the week:

I can't quit before the miracle.

I would love to do RAINStorm again next year. However, before I register I have a list of requirements I need to meet, so I had better get cracking.

But up first, Ironman Racine 70.3 on Sunday. 

Rainstorm Day 1

To say that it was a windy day is an understatement. The were times I was shouting to the corn fields 'this shit is ridiculous'  and it totally took me back to IMKS 2013 with my frustration. Then I remembered this is my vacation  and I need to enjoy myself. So my mood lightened. And I decides to sag in the last 15 miles, so I only rode 97. I was afraid of the judgment of ending my day early.

But then said fuck it. It's my vacation. People are going to judge me no matter what I do or don't do and if I don't stop caring I'll never see progression.

So I'm glad I ended up sagging in early. It started POURING and a tree fell on the sag car. Power lines went down and the state inn we we're staying at doesn't have power. It's been almost 4 hours now.

I sure hope we have power by morning!

A huge PR in Kansas

So if you read my post from the 2013 IMKS 70.3 race, you understand how much the word "fuck" summarized that day.

I used the word two times on the bike in 2014:
-As I was climbing the same hill I fell on last year it wasn't that difficult of a climb. When I passed the gravel road that I stopped on and fell over last year, I flipped it the bird and sang "Fuuuucccckkkk you."
-As I went down the hill at mile 6 of the bike course, after climbing out of the damn, I screamed "fuuuucckkk yeah."

The bike was challenging but so much fun! I can now see why people think it's a fun bike course. There weren't any wild turkeys crossing my path, I didn't think "are you fucking kidding me" at every turn. I wasn't sick of the wind. It was night and day from the previous year. I passed people, I rode past people walking up hills that I had walked previously and I didn't cramp.

I worked hard in the off season at the Cycle Studio. Sometimes riding as many as 4 times a week. I worked hard at intervals, listened to my coach and the other coaches when they challenged me, I got a compact ring and kept pushing my zones. I'm so close to a 200 Watt TT I can imagine it; I have always sucked at tests.

It paid off and left me wanting more.

I had a decent swim, shaving off 5+ minutes from my 2013 time, I definitely can shave a few more minutes off my swim if I would just stop freaking out when the waves behind me swim into me. My transitions were shorter and I took 1:05 off my bike time. Yes, an hour and five minutes!

My run fell apart. That was actually the other time I said fuck on the course. Brian, Shea and Sara came out on their bikes, I knew that meant I was going slow. I wasn't event really running at that point, I was fucking walking. After the race I told Shea I need a run coach, she said no, you just need to run. Which is the truth. My run was the same time as my run in Cedar Point last year, which is bullshit, because I'm running much faster than last year.

I still finished the race more than an 1:20 faster than 2013. I scored an official finish and I'm so fucking proud of it. Thanks to Chris and Heather who came from an hour of sleep to see me off on the swim and Chris who was the paparazzi taking pictures during the run and at the finish. Thanks to Brian, Shea and Sara for coming out encourage me (and harass!) me on the run and waiting to cheer me on at the finish!

So enough about the race. Let me share some the really fucking cool shit that has happened leading up to this race. I felt like a celebrity at this race, like I was in the Cheers bar and everyone knew my name. I've told a few people this story that didn't realize it and they said I had to share it on the blog, so here it is.

David, Glenn, Tom and Bryan have made a big deal out of me (staff that work Ironman races). I didn't realize until I got to Arizona how much they talk up my story. So David and the Ironband (http://ironbandmusic.com/index.php) caught wind of it. They wrote a song about me. Yeah, I have a music video and everything! I cannot thank all of you enough for making this experience SO unique from everyone's, it's been very cool! <3

Click to watch the video
Take Your Cutoff
http://youtu.be/chdkBEI2J9M

So coming into Kansas I'm so excited to see everyone. I go to the Athlete's Meeting and see David first, he gives me a big hug and we catch up. There's a woman there that is an official, she says "I know your face but don't know who you are." So I give her my name and David tells her how much they love me and that I finished both Kansas and Arizona after they took my timing chip. He said it has always stayed with him how grateful I was when they were there to meet me, I thanked them and had a big smile. They love my attitude.

As I was walking into the store in the village David wished me good luck over the PA. When I went to go buy something in the store, I got a "friend of David's" discount as he knew all about me through the guys.

Before the race I was so glad I got to see everyone else. I ran into Glenn aka the Godfather as he was setting up T1. I ran into Bryan and Tom as they were setting up around T2. I saw David from the Ironband and got to chat with him before the swim. I got another pre-race hug from David Downey before I set up transition.

As my wave got into the water, David wished me good luck on the PA and he told the crowd about me. As I got out of the water they announced I was out and on my way onto the bike as I ran up the yellow brick road carpet to the pavement, which still fucking hurts as much as last year!

Out on the bike Bryan found me a few times and told me I was looking good. I would find out later that he was telling the guys how I was doing.

As I got to mile two of the run, I saw the Godfather and he gave me a big hug. I was running near the run turnaround in the campground and I heard them announcing my name from stage. David was telling everyone that I was last seen on mile 47 on the bike more than an hour ago and I was going to make it to the run. David had no clue where I was on the run and that I could hear him on stage.

Then the coolest God moment happened. Just as I reached the closest point to the stage and finish line from the run at the turnaround point I heard it. The Ironband started playing MY song, the one about me. They had no clue that I was there, but their hope was that I would hear it somehow.

I went through the aid station singing it and telling people it was my song about me. They all started clapping.

As I rounded the last quarter mile before the finish, I was bummed that the award ceremony had already started and David was on stage announcing the winners going to the World Championships in Canada. But as soon as I hit the carpet, which in 2013 was LONG gone by the time I reached that area, I heard it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please pardon the interruption, we have a very special finisher. Our girl Chrissy Vasquez is finishing." David got to announce me from the stage. It was a really awesome and special moment. Tom was at the finish and just before David finished he said "David, guess who's coming to the finish, Chrissy."

Just steps before I reached the official finish my song started. Although the Ironband had to leave, they had downloaded the song and Tom played it as I finished. It gave me goosebumps and a huge smile to sing my song as I crossed the finish. I said to Tom "you didn't have to take my chip this year" and he replied "no way I was going for your chip." I got to say goodbye to Glenn and he said I was their girl and convinced me to sign up for Racine, another race they do. Already can't wait to see them again!

2014 is a year of redemption. I wanted an official finish in Kansas and I got it, taking 1:20 off my time. 1 down, 1 to go! Several months of hard work are in front of me so I can get redemption number 2 at Ironman Arizona in November. Damn it felt good, I can't wait for it again!

A dirty word

Expectation. Bet you didn't think that's what I was going to say!

"Today's expectations are tomorrow's resentments"

Expectation is a terrible word. It's dirty and brings on nothing but bullshit, upset and resentment.

I spent some time on Georgia Street this weekend and I cleaned out some drawers. Both brought back memories and caused me to reflect. The word "expectations" kept popping back up.

So many of us are guilty of it, setting expectations for experiences or people; neither we can control. I can have expectations of myself, but even then, those are sometimes hard to manage. We've all been let down by expectations. Hell, I've probably let you down at some point based on expectations. Well, I know I have. Ironman Arizona, a lot of people had high expectations for me to have an official finish and I didn't meet those expectations.

I think back to all the times I had resentment and I can link nearly every time back to an expectation. So many of our actions are linked to expectations. Help someone, expect a thank you. Do something nice for someone, expectations are set to get a thanks or a favor back. But why are we really doing it? Looking at one's motives are a good way to keep your expectations in check. I make a decision to do something for someone. I cannot expect an thank you. If I do, then my motives were not purely set on helping someone else with no gain, return or accolade.

I think to some of the times I've been the shittiest to be around. It's because I had expectations and they were not met. Not even close to being met. Maybe the opposite of my expectations ended up happening. And my mood changed on a dime, because I can be a moody if I'm pushed enough.

On the flip side, some of the best times I've had have been times when I didn't have any expectations.

I did a good job for a while trying not to have expectations when I shouldn't. But the little shits have crept back in. I think it's a conscious effort not have expectations. I'm in a better place when I drop expectations and really watch my motives. That's something I'm going to work on again in 2014.

What does this have to do with training? not a damn thing.