Send me on my way

Life is short. You hear this all the time. If you're like me, you think about it for a few moments and then you're rushing off somewhere and it's too soon forgotten.

In February I was at my annual check up with my oncologist. Sitting in the waiting room I saw a familiar blonde headed girl. I saw her husband sitting next to her and immediately knew her husband was the reason for their visit. It's the one place you DON'T want to run into anyone you know. I found out he had been diagnosed with lung cancer in November. Within months he was in the last few days of his battle, fighting a hard, good fight. Last night we paid our respects to a wonderful man and tried our best to comfort his amazingly strong wife. I was surprised to see a smile on Sabrina's face at times, I was inspired by her strength, I know it was her gratitude of people coming to celebrate Jim's life and support her. Jim was a kind and caring man and I know he is at rest now. I pray for comfort for his wife. He was only 36. If you want to help support his wife, you can visit their site.

As Brian and I drove out to Fortville for the viewing, we drove along a lot of the roads I ride when I'm gone for hours. In a small way it was a chance to bring my good friend along on my journey to Ironman. 

Like two kids bored only days into summer, we have both been really bored and feel like we need to be doing different things. When we hang out we usually go to dinner, the same old chain restaurants. We usually rent movies or watch tv. Very much in a rut. So we decided to start our summer of doing things different last night in honor of Jim and his life. We went to a small town diner and talked about the projects we worked on with Jim as part of the Jaycees.

On the way home I found myself driving more of my bike route. Then it hit me "holy shit, I'm a cyclist!" I knew this because at that moment, I was longing for my bike, to be in the saddle, hugging the curves of the road.

We drove in silence, taking in the music and the cornfields. The sunset was beautiful. It was a perfect evening for a drive in the country. Ordinarily we would have gone straight home from dinner, watched tv, then I would leave so I could get to bed and prepare for the next day. But tonight we just savored the evening. We then started car dancing and laughing. I felt so alive in such a simple moment.

On this 50 mile drive, following my bike route through Cicero, Morse and then downtown Noblesville we found several places we wanted to visit. Small diners and dives. We passed a playhouse and both commented that when we drive by we both think "I want to see a play there sometime." Brian laughed, it's funny what we learn when we communicate. So our "we're bored" summer list has grown with lots of things to do.

I realize that life is all about choices. Find the silver lining in a cloud. Take inventory of your gratitude and spend more time celebrating that than being angry. We all have a choice to be happy in any situation. Just like Sabrina's smile during probably one of the most difficult times in her life. It was extremely sad to say goodbye to Jim last night, however, the silver lining was the evening helped me to see that life really is short and you can't let "life" get in the way of living.

As I drove back to my house the song "Send me on my Way" came on and I thought what perfect timing. Bless you Jim, you're on your way.

Trail of Terror

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ups and downs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy and no buts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

One week bike rental $265

Luggage fee to haul helmet, cycle gear and shoes $25

A new focus and motivation by knowing the course PRICELESS

"That course is flat as a pancake, piece of cake" I call BULLSHIT. While the course is not hilly, nor the most challenging course I've ridden, I can certainly say it's not flat. As a smart person on Facebook said: "didn't we learn from Columbus that nothing is really flat?"

Since my parents moved to Rio Verde I've driven the Bee Line highway countless times. Going 80 miles an hour, it feels pretty flat and the inclines fly by. Nothing could prepare me better than riding the course myself. 

I went back and forth about renting a bike while I was home for Christmas. It's a lot of money, time away from my parents, a lot of extra shit to haul 3,000 miles. But I'm so glad that I did. I'm a big fan of bullets, so here's what I learned:

• Computrainer is WORTH EVERY PENNY!!! I dread going because I know it's an ass kicking, I leave feeling strong like a motherfuckin' ox. I cleared 22 miles in 1:18. My first sprint tri in 2011 it took me 56 minutes to go 10 miles. I'm faster and stronger. and there's still 11 months to go before race day! (disclaimer: my bike is definitely better than the '11 one)
• The last mile before the turnaround on the course is a challenge. It's not flat. In fact the last 4 or 5 miles is a false flat.
• Like a bad case of herpes (so I've heard), the wind can flare up outta no where.
• It's dry. It's been 10 years since I've lived here and I forgot how dry it is. My entire nasal system is dry (how does my nose then drip like a faucet??) and my lips get dry. Pack lots of aquaphore, check.

I want to go harder and better. I want to get faster and rock this race. This experience gives me an entire new focus and dedication to my training. Riding this course made it more real. I will push myself a little more each day.

Crazy to think in 11 months, god willing, I'll be an IRONMAN. Crossing that finish line where I started the journey 15 years ago, to live my life to the fullest. Crazy to think that 15 years ago, when I started that journey I wanted to die. The pain of the journey was just too great and I didn't think I could go on. A story for another time, but I'm so glad I dug in and fought my fears, because the reward is sweet.

I can't wait to go harder. be better. go faster. feel stronger.

"You know that feeling when you're in too deep, and then you make it out, the taste so sweet. sweet" -Dave Matthews

Merry Christmas and thank you to my parents, family and friends for all your support.

I thought this only happened in movies... and Hong Kong

I ran over to Ohio with my friend Marti to cheer her on in a cyclocross race. (by ran I mean we drove hellof fast in a soccer mom minivan) After watching her badass bike moves on the course we headed our adventure back home. I must say I find this style of racing intriguing, but I will wait until after IMAZ to give it a whirl. Not to mention slinging my ham hock thighs over the bike frame to hurl myself up muddy hills would be quite a challenge on its own.

After a short adventure at the Griswold style cut your own Christmas tree farm and a tasty lunch at a local Cracker Barrel wanna be dairy we got into a conversation about massages. I recalled my trip to Hong Kong in 2006 and got a in-room massage after a long 29 hour trip. The tiny little lady that showed at my door was practically dropping from the ceiling jamming her elbows into my back. I was screaming in pain into the pillow and ever so grateful when the 30 minutes was up.

So this afternoon I went in for my massage as I decided to try Massage Envy. I had another tiny Chinese woman give me a great massage, she did a great job of readjusting her pressure based on my reactions to the discomfort. I must say I really miss the days of when a massage meant a wonderful, relaxing experience which usually included a nap. She tells me that the muscle running on the outside of my shin bone is the tightest she's ever felt, no wonder my ankle was a hot mess a few weeks ago. She rubbed my lower back and it felt like she was rubbing bone, but it was a fucking tight muscle. She slowly worked it out and I was happy to find someone who was able to give me a deep tissue massage with the all the effectiveness without bringing me to tears of pain.

Then, the craziest thing happened. No, not that Gary, get your head out of the gutter. She climbed up on the table and started using her knees to massage my glutes (ass for those that don't know...) WTF. I was dumb founded and surprisingly amazed/embarrassed at how well it worked. Then she stands up and uses one heel of her foot to dig into my hamstrings. Double WTF. Sister has some good balance, was she in Cirque du Soleil?? (good thing I googled that first, I've been spelling it wrong all these years) Isn't this the shit that happens in movies?

It was weird, but nearly as weird as creepy Vicky at LTF and so fucking effective, so I rebooked. I guess I can live with weirdness if it works as foam rolling was SO much less painful tonight.

time to go decorate my tree so my ornament isn't alone on the tree

Dizzy from all this spinning

IMAZ is less than a year away. I've really embraced my training and have done more in the last four weeks than I think I did all last season. After reviewing my training "plan" I built from last year with people, the common reply was "how did you finish??" Which I said "fuck if I know!"

Let's be honest my plan was:

-Run/walk 3 days a week with BOMF

-Bike 1 day a week with the cycle group and toward the end at the Cycle Studio

-Swim two days a week, But in all honesty I usually overslept and missed

-One open water swim a week which I refused to try to do the full 1.2 mile lap figuring I was slow and would hold everyone up

Between Muncie and Cedar Point I was on my bike 2 times, one of which was the Chicago Tri.

Christ on roller skates. That half took me more than 9 hours and no way should have. Lesson learned.

So LTF had a contest to send in your story for some sweet prizes. I decided to figure out a way to try to summarize my story enough for them to be at least mildly interested to read it. So I'm going to share what I submitted as I doubt mine will ever get selected. For me there's some brutal, blunt in your fucking face honesty down below..

Many people don't know why I even started all of this in the first place. So here's the 30,000 feet view. Why do I stay? Because of shit like the last four weeks and today. If I can see that much improvement in four weeks, then what can I see in a year. I CAN finish that full 140.6 miles in a few more hours it took me to go 70.3. Holy Fuck, that's mind blowing to me. It's a long road and I have little room for error, but I'm off to a good start.

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Have you ever tried on a wetsuit? Well, when you're overweight, it reminds you of a sausage being stuffed into a casing. I tried to avoid having to face the wetsuit for months, but when you're a triathlete swimming in 62 degree water, you can't avoid it. I've been writing funny little passages on my blog called "Sausage in a Wetsuit" that show the real side of a triathlete who doesn't look like a triathlete going for real and tough goals.

My journey is like so many others, trying to lose weight and maintain a healthy lifestyle. Where my story continues to be real is I haven't achieved maintained success on the first try, or the fifth try. I'm still working on it and I'm still fighting with struggles. I read so many stories where someone gets the motivation to get their life together and boom, at the end of the story, they've gotten it and they're maintaining it. What about the rest of us? The ones that lose 40 pounds, keep it off, but still struggle to get the other 60 pounds off, then eventually put 10 back on? That's my story.

In August 2009 I was woken up by a phone call by my Lifetime Fitness trainer. I had overslept my session AGAIN, money wasted by my lack of motivation. Katie asked me the question of my life "what's going on with you?" My response broke me immediately into tears and I couldn't hide any longer. My eating, my health, MY LIFE was out of control; I didn't love myself and spent all my time taking care of others instead of myself. I needed help so I finally swallowed my pride and asked for it. I worked with my trainer and nutritionist to work on a plan that focused on proper exercise and eating, mainly portion control and I lost 40 pounds in 4 months.

My friend challenged me to a half marathon in Miami Beach in March 2010. I accepted the challenge and registered. Although in the back of my mind I figured I'd end up dropping out and cheering her on. I signed up for a training class and the first training run I walked. And I struggled to even walk a mile. My ankles burned and were tight, I was miserable. I told the coach I was going to quit, but he told me come back, go a step further every time, and every time it would hurt just a little bit less. I made it to the finish line of that race. Once I did, I was hooked, I ran 3 more half marathons that year; slow and usually one of the last to finish, but I finished.

In 2011 I decided I wanted to get into triathlons. Knowing nothing about the sport, I bought a hybrid bike and entered my first sprint distance. I prepared by going to spin classes, joining the LTF Master's Swim and keeping up my running. The first time I went to try on a tri kit I had to purchase from the men's selection and felt like I was wrapped in plastic wrap. My feet hit the pool deck with huge thuds compared to the small and trim athletes around me. It was really the first time in my life I couldn't hide behind clothes, all my rolls and fat where on display for everyone to see. I saw my cycle instructor and was introduced to some other members who would later become some of my best friends. I finished the season having completed four sprint triathlons and the Chicago Lifetime Fitness Olympic distance triathlon. Pretty much dead last, but I've got the medals and finisher times forever.

In 2012 I upped my game. I registered for 2 half marathons, 2 sprint tris, 3 Olympic and 2 Half Iron distances (70.3 - one of which would be downsized due to weather). I joined a tri team and found a community of support that I didn't know existed. I knew that when I joined that tri team my life would change forever and I really debated if I was ready for it. I got a fancy tri bike and had all the equipment, I looked the part. But I still was a good 80 pounds heavier than my competitors, so by the sheer fact of physics, I usually finished last. I started a blog to document all the humorous things that happened to me along the way. On this blog I revealed my inner most secrets and fears, I figured if I was going to heal and be able to continue to improve my life, I had to put brutal honesty online for anyone and everyone to read. This blog ended up inspiring many and people I didn't even know would come up to me at the gym recognizing me from reading my blog after friends had shared it. I became the underdog that everyone cheered for. Some races I wanted to quit, and  it took every ounce of my courage to keep going, but knowing that I had a ton of blog followers that didn't want to read about me quitting keep me digging deep. I had friends emailing me telling me how I had inspired them to change their life.

When the day came that I competed in my first 70.3 race I took my spot at the back of the line like usual. But the emotion of accomplishment took over me. I found myself crying many times on the bike and run, crying because I was so PROUD of myself. Proud of what I was doing, my determination and my drive. When I got off the bike and started the run, I told a friend cheering me on that I couldn't walk a mile 3 years ago, but today I was going to be a half ironman and go 70.3 miles. I enjoyed every minute of that miserable 13.1 mile run. I rubbed terrible blisters and could feel every ounce of fat on my bones. But I kept a smile and cheered everyone else running with me on the course. I entered the finisher's chute and the tears dried, the pride beamed from my eyes and my smile couldn't be missed. The announcer made a big deal of my finish and I was greeted by all my friends. The race was not easy, it took me more than 9 hours. When I finished there were people finishing their 140.6 race at the same time. But I didn't let it tarnish the feeling I had that day. I did it and I wanted more.

I've finished 12 half marathons, 6 sprint triathlons, 4 olympic triathlons and one 70.3 triathlon in 30 months and all at approximately 225 pounds. I have registered for the 2013 Ironaman Arizona on November 13. I have under a year to lose about 80 pounds (an Olsen twin as I like to joke) so I can compete to the best of my ability in the race of my life. Every race I know that my weight holds me back from getting faster. I know this is the key to going from completing to competing. People are amazed at what I've accomplished at my weight and I know that I've got more to accomplish. I know that I can do this with loving myself and the support of all my amazing family and friends.

This is where my story ends, for now. As the days ahead of me unfold I'm working to raise more than $10,000 for Back on My Feet in honor of my first Ironman (a program that helps homeless veterans repair their lives through the base of a running program, where I volunteer 3 days a week to run with veterans at 5:45 AM). I'm also working to lose at least 50 pounds before the next triathlon season starts, building my base and increasing my strength. My hope is that when I go to get a new wetsuit in the spring, I'll feel more like a cocktail weenie than a sausage in the dressing room.

blog is sausageinawetsuit.blogspot.com - note: content contains explicit language