Damn you Carly Rae Jepsen

It's all Carly Rae Jepsen's fault my tri blew today. Her fucking song "call me maybe" happens to be the worst piece of shit out there. And it was stuck in my head for 25 miles of the bike. And some of the run.

Well I guess it's my fault, but I really dislike the person that was humming it in transition (who has time to hum in transition?!) because it then got in my head. That song is like herpes, you can't get rid of it no matter how hard you try. At least with the song it will eventually work its way out of your head until some other asshat sings it.

So, 25 miles of the bike? Wait, thought it was 39 miles. Yeah. I dropped down to the Oly during the race. I feel like such a failure. But I've taken what I've stewed about all day and created a list of like 30 items I need to work on before the 70.3. I'll just summarize the big points.

• Negativity - Just like this horrible song, once negativity creeps into my head during a race, it's over. I have a very hard time recovering and today I didn't. I got out onto the bike and was going pretty strong, then I hit the hills on the back end of the reservoir and my speed dropped, below my target MPH. So I immediately thought "how the fuck are you supposed to do this next month?" I started having doubt about racing the 70.3 and thought about putting my 70.3 debut off until Cedar Point in September. I was able to pick up pace in other spots and the other bikers are so encouraging. Any time I got passed the other biker would shout out a word of encouragement. I think the racing community overall is pretty supportive.
• HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE - this race snuck up on me this week and as I realized on the bike, I was not hydrated enough. When all said and done, I raced for almost 4 hours and was up 3 hours before that and only peed once at 5 a.m. That's a problem. I should be going every 2-3 hours. By the time I got to the end of the 2nd lap of the bike I knew a 3rd wasn't in me. I just decided at that point to drop down to Oly. I'm proud that I actually listened to my body for once, so I guess it's small victories.
• Butter the parts - It's probably a good thing that I didn't have to pee on the bike because I didn't have enough Belgium Butter on the right parts and rubbed my back upper thighs pretty bad in the bike. That woulda stung like a motha' for sure. Just when you think you have enough butta' on, butta' some more. and then some more.
• Nutrition - I'm glad I got to practice my nutrition plan for the 70.3 today. By the time I got to the run, although I was dehydrated, I was sloshing like a Santa with a bowl full of jelly. I suspect that I was too dehydrated to process all the water I had on the bike? I had my prescribed amount, but some of the nutrition choices did not sit so well with me. I felt awful sick and sloshing on top of that sucked. I'll talk to Heather and make some adjustments. For once I was prepared early with a plan more than a month out, another victory.

I finished the Oly so I can't completely beat myself up. I'm still well ahead of my Chicago time from last year, so that's a plus, just gotta put it all in perspective.

At least I didn't drop an entire bottle of nutrition (entire day's worth) like I did last month at the Muncie tri. The slippery little fucker flew out of my hand as I was pulling it from my jersey. It was like the oyster that went flying in Pretty Woman. I saw it go in slow motion in an arch over my head and into the woods. It was like the Christmas Story when Ralphie looses the lugnuts "ohhhhh fudge, but not fudge, I had said it, the word, the f dash, dash, dash word." Although mine was more like "Mother fucker are you fucking kidding me?!"

On a final note. My life right now is like an episode of Cheers. Everyone knows my name. Everywhere I go. I can only assume it's because there aren't many fat girls in the Indy triathlon circuit, so I stand out and am easy to remember. I had a guy today say "hey Chrissy! remember me?" um, no, but nice to see you again. I was working a water station in the middle of bum fuck nowhere for Team in Training and some guy out for his own cycle stopped and said "You were at the May Muncie tri, weren't you? I got out of the water right before you" um... okay how did you recognize me going by 18mph on a bike? I walked into a gas station after the Geist half marathon (okay a sausage in a tutu is pretty memorable) and said "hi Chrissy." I was like who are you, I'm pretty good at recognizing faces but this one I had never seen before. Turns out he saw my picture on facebook that week in one of his friends pictures. I'm glad that people like me enough to say hi and are patient with me as I kindly ask their name again. Although it's frustrating, because I'm pretty good with names and don't want people to feel bad that I don't remember.

I am going to work my little heart out these next four weeks. Nutrition will be spot on, my new name will be Chrissy "Brick" Vasquez. No excuses, no regrets. I want to make my friends and family so proud when I cross that 70.3 finish line, but most of all, I want to be proud.

Sausage in a Wetsuit - A humorous story about finding myself as I lose half myself training for the Ironman

So I got this brilliant idea to write a book. When I shared this idea and the title, most people loved it, but their next comment was something along the lines of "and in what free time are you going to do this?" Excellent point. So maybe I'll get lucky and a publisher will come to me like Carrie Bradshaw and have me pick 10-15 posts and write a dedication and opening and publish it. And then I'll get a big fat check because they sell it in France and can buy my boyfriend a Prada shirt. I digress. No wonder I won't have time to write a fucking book.

I've decided to write a blogs as I would chapters, or passages. I have to give Kerry V. credit for this as she's maintaining a hysterical site "Chicks are Stupid" because she, too, has also wanted to write a book. I've also decided that what comes out my head goes onto the screen. So if you know me well, you know that one of my flaws is that I curse. A lot. If it's going to be real, it's going to be me, unfiltered.

So here it goes.

Title Inspiration

"Ahhh! You got one, I feel like a sausage in mine." 

"My husband loves a wetsuit swim. No body fat? So gives buoyancy. I'm already buoyant. Feel like a lumpy sausage squeezed into casing." 

"Did you get one with sleeves?"

Me: "Um no, I would have been like the kid in the Christmas Story that couldn't put his arms down."

Early in the morning after a run on a crisp April morning, (let's be honest, fucking freezing - where is the warm spring weather?!) I asked an experienced triathlete friend if he thought I needed a wetsuit for my upcoming olympic tri in two weeks. The answer I was really not wanting to hear came out of his mouth. "Yes." Haven't I learned to stop asking questions I don't REALLY want to know the answers to??!

Fast forward to the end of the day. I slowly make my way into my favorite tri supply store. The moment I had been dreading since I ever thought about doing anything in the Iron distances had arrived. Like getting hit in the face with a brick out of nowhere, I couldn't avoid it. I start thumbing through the wetsuits thinking "christ, I can't even get my thigh in this."

"Hi Chrissy, going to take the plunge?" I gulp and answer some witty and smartass response about how I've been trying to avoid this and I can hide no longer. I'm offered several suits to try on so I can rent one instead of shelling over $250 off the bat for a rubber suit of shame.

I take them into the fitting room and start to slowly shimmy them up. First one, I couldn't even get one leg into it. The second one, couldn't pull the crotch up enough to get my arms in the sleeves. Third, yeah, no way, I knew this just by looking at it. All of the sudden I'm taken back to memories of the swim team in elementary school and getting anxiety wondering if any of the sample suits would fit so I could order my team suit. Who the fuck thought it would be good for a fat kid's self esteem to put them on the summer swim team anyway?! Oh yeah, I remember I wanted to be like all my other friends and begged to be on the team.

I come out of the dressing room with a red face and declare I need to try something else. I'm offered a two piece special order. "Can it be here in time to practice before next weekend's race?" "No." I'll just have to get a men's suit and cut the legs since I'm such an oompaloompa. I cannot leave the store without a suit, plain and simple. The water for my olympic is slated to be low 60s. I'll spend too much energy trying to keep warm and afloat while swimming the .93 miles. I take another suit off the rack and go back into the dressing room with a pit deep in my stomach. 

I slowly shimmy the right leg up. Then the left. Now the fun part, wiggle this bastard up over my hips that could bare a small country with no issues. I get it up. Ha, what I thought was the fun part, was really just an appetizer before the real fun begins. I pull this rubbery saran wrap up more so the crotch isn't hanging at my knees like some Tupac wanna be's pants (I always pour one out for you homie) so I can get my arms in. Now the real test. Will this motherfucker zip? I pull the seams together so I can zip it up. I get it up a bit, then have to take a minute to rest. When did it get so hot in here? Did they turn up the heat? Can you really drip sweat down your legs when they are wrapped that tight?

I get my second wind and get it zipped up further. I'm feeling better at this point and figure it's gotta be almost zipped up all the way. I look back in the mirror, not even close. The anxiety kicks in even more. The more anxiety, the more I sweat. The more I sweat the more anxiety. My hair's a mess and my face is red like a lobster. At this point I'm feeling panicked like when Ross can't get his pants up in the Friends episode. I'm not sure at this point whether to cry or to laugh out of embarrassment. Finally I decide to throw my pride aside and ask for help (gasp! say it ain't so!). I slowly open the door, almost like a father waiting to see his daughter for the first time in her wedding dress (or so I imagine?) the owner is waiting for me to pop out and say it's perfect! Sheepishly, I ask in a low voice for help. 

Luckily he is more than happy to help me zip it up and reassures me that everyone needs help. For race day I'll need to start the process early and don't be afraid to ask for help. I'm expecting him to say it's not going to zip when I realize he's already zipped it. It fits! Thank god and baby jesus. I turn around and look at myself in the mirror.

Holy fuck! I look like a sausage stuffed in this thing. And unlike the texts I would get later after declaring I finally had a suit, I really looked like a big, fat sausage stuffed in. My friends were cocktail wieners in comparison. 

After checking out and thanking the owner for his kindness and patience I left in my car with my new acquisition. I got this total rush of depression. Christ on roller skates. What was wrong with me? I should be well pass this point. What was holding me back from losing this Olsen twin and moving forward? 

I called my mom and shared with her like I know few others would understand. I told her that this feeling of sickness about the entire situation tonight should have meet feeling like I never wanted to eat again. When in all honestly, part of me wanted to go to Taco Bell and eat my feelings.

When I hung up, I realized my fear is what was keeping me here. I need to own what I am. Much like the swim team, I thought I could keep up with my peers and do whatever I wanted. Just like being a triathlete. I can't pretend I'm something I'm not. Yes, I am a triathlete. I am proud of that. But I also need to recognize that I'm not the stereotypical triathlete. People that don't know me, would have NO IDEA that I can finish an Olympic Triathlon.

For the first time in my life, I started to embrace who and what I am. Fuck whatever anyone thinks. I'm not sitting around thinking woah is me and not trying to change my life. I'm out there actively trying to change my life for the better. Pretending that I'm something I'm not though, is what is blocking me to really breaking through all this bullshit weighing me down. (no pun intended) I've got all the pieces, this has just been blocking me from really figuring out how to put the puzzle together.

I went on my first swim with the wetsuit. Yes, I hated every minute of it. I hated that we had to take a group picture and that it was going to go on facebook. I hated knowing that I was going to be tagged. But I finished the swim. I had an amazing and supportive group of teammates that cheered me on every meter of that swim and wouldn't let me stop. They challenged me to push myself further after each time I rested or felt claustrophobic.

I got home and saw the picture. My first thought was "untag that shit," but then I remembered my new mantra "own it" and I left it up. Knowing that everyone of my nearly 1500 friends could see it. For once I was letting people see every angle side of me, no matter how unattractive. I need to stop trying to filter what people get to see of me and let it be there for all to see. My mom said something really powerful to me; "Chrissy, you really don't look any different in that picture than you do your trisuit." Holy shit. Talk about the wake up call I needed. So true, but in my head, I don't look that fat in my trisuit. 

It brings me to an even deeper realization of the twisted fucked up state of mind I have. I have terrible self esteem, yet, I don't always see the same thing that everyone else sees, sometimes I see something better, sometimes something worse. I have a lot of shit to keep cleaning up, but I'm on my way. This week I ran half the mini marathon in a tank sports top. That is HUGE for me. I finally let my head get out of my way and went for comfort, I was sweating like a whore in church and knew I had to take my shirt off in order to finish. (Ha, I also got a "nice boobs" comment at the water station.) I know this week I have turned over a new leaf. I know now that I'm on my way. It's going to be a long journey, no doubt. Some parts of the road smoother than others, but I'm so ready to continue this journey with an open heart and mind. 

I had a conversation with an amazing friend this week. I spoke about knowing how crazy my life has been with Ironman training but how I've changed some and learned some things. He asked me some good questions about why I was doing it and what have I learned. Out of no where, without being able to stop it, tears flowed with my answer. I've learned a lot about myself, I've learned how strong I really am and to stop discounting myself.

I'm not going to lie, it's tough being one of the biggest female competitors out there. Having people cheer you on like it's your first race and you should be proud for just being out there. Sick of completing and being ready to compete. It's fucking hard to really compete when you're carrying around 50-80 pounds more than most competitors. I wonder what people would think if they had to strap Mary Kate to their backs to swim, bike and ride. The easy thing to do would be to not do it. To not put myself out there for criticism and judgement. But I've already found out so much about myself and I can't imagine what else there is to find out about myself as I continue this journey.

I'm so lucky to have amazing family, friends and teammates who support me and love me. Who sometimes believe in me, more than I believe in myself. This new leaf I've turned over has already allowed me to finally be 100% honest with people about who I am, what I struggle with and what I'm going to do bring about change. This has been so freeing. Without even giving it thought, I've lost 7 lbs this week. Every pound I've lost before this point has taken complete effort and concentration. It has been a struggle. I have a long way to go, it's not going to be easy, but in the words of Robert Randolph "I'm moving in the right, dirrrreeeecccccttttion."