Ima. Half. Ironman.
Cedar Point 70.3 has come and gone and I'm still standing to tell about it. It was by far the most challenging day in my life. Yet, it is the most rewarding feeling and I still stop to pinch myself because I can't believe that I carried myself 70.3 miles. I didn't have to crawl or quit.
The morning started early as every triathlon morning does. Our bikes had to be racked the night before so I just had to set up transition and I was ready. I had printed and laminated a picture of Joe and I to put on my bike and carry on the run, I was going to look at it whenever I needed a boost or felt like I couldn't go on. By the time I got to set up the picture was gone. I was upset, but Marti told me, that's Joe's way of saying "You got this" with his signature laugh and smile. They were right, I did have this.
Swim
The water temp was 74.5, so about 95% of the field wore wetsuits. After my terrible swim in Chicago I decided to forgo the rubber suit of hell. As I walked around the swimmers I got the look. The look of "she's REALLY going to do this?" It still really blows my mind how much people can show their judgment on their faces; I like to believe they just don't realize it. Swimming in Lake Erie is hands down better than Lake Michigan off the shore of Chicago. The water is shallow so we had to start about 100 yards out and you had to walk for about 100 yards after the start. The water was really too shallow for dolphin dives, but too shallow to run, really quit annoying. The currents going out were pretty bad, I thought I was never going to get to the orange buoy; (orange is turn, yellow is sighting) as I was swimming out the first leg the song "you're not alone" was in my head because I felt like I was alone in the water. The course was in the shape of a triangle, so the second leg was parallel to the shore, that swim wasn't too bad. I didn't have a song stuck in my head, just kept saying, "just don't drown." The last leg was into shore with the tides bringing you back but it seemed to take a while too. As soon as I turned to make my way to shore the song "I'm coming home" was playing my head. I really am my own jukebox; I don't even listen to either song. I was so relieved to see the water get lighter which meant it was more shallow and I was getting closer. A cramp set in my left foot that hurt like a bitch so as soon as I could stand I did to stretch the fucker out. I heard a collective "SWIM" from Andrea and Marti on shore so I dropped and swam. They laughed after how quickly I listened and dropped. Getting out of the swim I couldn't focus on anything and felt like I was coming out of a bar after a night of drinking but made my way to T1 where my bike was one of the few left :( I was in the last wave and it took me about an hour to swim 1.2 miles.
Bike
Since I was one of the last out onto the bike course it was like I was riding alone. I guess it's a good thing I've spent most of the season out on the course alone at the end of the pack. I'm used to it. While it bothers me that I'm that slow, it doesn't bother me enough to impact my performance. The first half is pretty flat with some rollers until you get to about mile 20 where you hit a fun set of hills. There was one where I was going 5mph up the hill. As I was coming into mile 15 I started to see all my teammates come back to finish the bike; I made sure to cheer for everyone, even if I couldn't tell who they were as they whizzed by me (everyone looks the same in a helmet and I haven't learned everyone's bikes yet). About mile 25 is where it happened.
I look down, 12mph. Fuck. again 10mph. FUCK. 8.7 MPH FUCKFUCKITYFUCKFUCKFUCK. My first true bonk on the bike. Damn it. This part of the course is small rollers so I decide I need to get off the bike to rest a minute. I was going to lay in the grass and stretch but I didn't want the other bikers (full iron distance loops twice) to think I was dead and stop. (Triathletes are pretty considerate of each other.) I get off and stretch while holding onto my bike and take a unscheduled gel (good thing I learned early on to bring extra!) and some water. I get back on and manage 15 mph for most of the ride. I even find times where I'm back up to 21 mph so I'm not going to complain. I found myself starting to think "so and so is off the bike, so and so is probably close to finishing" and I decided to shut those voices out. It was MY race. The goal was to finish, so shut the fucking committee in your head off and just finish.Around mile 50 I realize I'm about 18 miles away from becoming a half ironman. I immediately start bawling with tears of pride. Sausage is doing this. I'm really doing this.
Run
I saw some of my T3 teammates with medals around their necks as they cheered me onto the run. I was so proud that they had finished, I knew some of them had taken home age group awards. I passed many friends making their way back as I was just starting. Normally I'd let this bother me, but no damnit, it was MY race. This was my mantra during the run. I had fun cheering everyone on that I passed. Giving words of encouragement to those who were finishing the half "There's a huge party at the finish waiting for you!" and to those who were only on loop 1 of 2 for the full 140.6 distance. I had a pro female pat me on the back as she ran by and said "you rock." I had another male pro tell me "You are such an inspiration to everyone out here" and yet another guy say "You are my inspiration to finish this. I couldn't stop crying on the run. It was a very emotional experience for me. I was thinking of everything that had changed in my life, everything I had sacrificed to get to this moment. I thought about the person that doubted me when I went to run my first half marathon. Between all the cheering and accolades from people on the course, it finally struck me. I INSPIRE PEOPLE. I've half believed it, but this time it sunk in and I believed it in my head AND heart.
As I ran down the street I heard "fuck you shorty" "give me my fucking money you dirty hoe" and realized I was running by a huge domestic dispute outside a house. I thought "keep your head down, don't make eye contact." As I turned the corner to escape a guy came by and said "we're not going to finish our first race because we got shot in the crossfire." Hahah, he read my mind. At the turn around I asked the staff member (between big sobs; I'm surprised he could understand me) if I finished after 8:30 would I still get my medal and finisher's shirt. He just laughed and told me to keep going, there was a huge crowd waiting to cheer me on at the finish. He must have been worried about my well-being because he came up a half mile later to ask me if I was okay. I just sobbed I'm em-ot-ionallll. He just laughed and said it was okay and to run like the wind.
My teammate Scott met me at mile 10 to cheer me on, a much needed boost at the end, his smile meant a lot. Then the party bus came around to honk and cheer. Marti, Andrea and Michelle were hooting and hollering from the road for me to finish. I saw Michelle's finisher medal, I wanted it, so I dug in and finished strong. As I came in to the finish area I saw Elyssa, Josh, Greg, Kim and Todd cheering me on. I rounded the corner and could hear the announcer talking about a finisher, I realized he was talking about ME! With all the crying I had done on the course, I only teared up on the last corner, then it all turned into a huge SMILE. Everyone was there to applaud my finish. I attempted a cartwheel to finish, but only had the energy to do half of one, so I guess it kinda looked like a sideways handstand.
El. Fin.
I cannot describe how it felt to finish. To know I had done it, I had met my goal. I wasn't happy with my time, but I can figure out later how to improve for next season. For now I'm going to enjoy the glory and pride. I'm still in awe of myself and so incredibly grateful for everyone who supported me through this.
This season hasn't been easy. A lot has changed in my life this summer. I'm a different girl coming out than what went in. I've gained a lot of friends, lost touch with a few, but I'm doing it all for me. I'm doing things I want to do that are making me a healthier person and ultimately a better person.
To be honest, I didn't deserve to finish. My schedule since Muncie has been nuts and I've let training slip to a low priority. Since Muncie I was on my bike a handful of times, mileage was low. The highest was 25 miles with the Chicago Tri. I hadn't been swimming. So I can't be anything but grateful that I was able to finish. I am disappointed to know that had I used those 8 weeks to really dig in, I could have probably crushed that course. The story of my life.
I'm done with saying I could have. I can and I will. The off season has finally started and it's time to dig into my goals. Lose weight, build strength and work in my zones to build my base. Ironman Arizona is 14 months away. 140.6 will be mine. Stay tuned..
Friday, September 14, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Sausage in a Wetsuit returns
44 minutes, 2,640 seconds. That's the difference in my '12 Chicago tri from '11. I was honestly hoping to break 4 hours, but a 44 minute improvement in a year is a pretty good consolation prize.
For the first time this season I wasn't disappointed with my performance. I gave it my all and left it all on the course. My sciatic nerve was not happy that weekend and the aftermath was definitely clear as I was walking like I hadbeen rode a horse all weekend.
Seeing that it was lake Michigan I decided to bring out my wetsuit for this race. I lubed up with spray triglide in the hotel room before we left for the start line. It's been two months since I last wore it, so I'm a little out of practice getting that bitch on. My nails were longer, so I had to be careful not to punch a hole. I started to waddle down the hallway. Luckily Brian recommended a cab to the start line, so I didn't have to waddle the .75 miles to the start line (god bless my friends!)
As soon as I hopped in the water to bob like a sea of apples in the lake with my start wave, I knew it was going to be a frustrating swim. I felt constricted and it was hard to breath. I would swim about 200 meters and then need a break to get some air. So I would try breaststroking so I could at least keep forward movement. Sausage shoved in a wetsuit does not stroke anything well. It was impossible, so I would kinda doggy paddle forward a few seconds to get a breath and then keep going. The end buoy seems to move, it takes FOREVER to get to that fucker. Lesson 1: I had better sleep in my wetsuit to get ready for IMAZ next year.
The run to T1 is more than .25 miles. This year they put carpeting down the entire way which was awesome. However, it was a slippery little fucker. I almost fell a dozen times so I decided to walk because my luck I would have ate it. As I moved out of T1 a nice storm was rolling in and down came the rain. Good think I forgot my sunglasses at the hotel.
Out on the ride my new wheels were cutting through the wind. I was passing people left and right and they were staying passed (usually they pop back up). I got a "that's an awesome bike" (compared to last year "you're doing this race on THAT bike?") The wind in our face going North on Lakeshore Drive was ridiculous. I thought "I can't wait to have that shit at my back when I turn around." I turned around, and the wind was twice as bad. The wind WAS at my back. About mile 12 I thought something dropped off my bike but I couldn't see anything so I kept going. A few seconds later I couldn't pedal. Fuck. So I got off and find that my spare tube had fallen off my repair pouch. It was stuck in my crank. I finally got it untangled and secured it (I'm sure it's trashed). Now to put my chain back on with tons of bikes coming at me (I kept imagining someone flying right into me). Finally after about 5 minutes I got it put back on and grease was smeared all over me head to toe. One of my favorite spin instructors, Sharon, came up behind me at mile 24 and we rode the last mile in together. All and all I was pleased, I managed 18mph in the wind. For the first time I really felt like I was racing out on the bike, it was a high like no other.
The run was a shuffle at best. My lower back was super tight from my sciatic nerve issues so I walked the first two miles and popped some advil. Finally it loosened up and I was able to jog. Last year I finished after all the pros. This year the men did lap me, but it was pretty cool to be able to cheer for Hunter Kemper. I was the last person to congratulate him as we both entered the finishers shoot (any guess who they announced finishing? hahah) The women didn't lap me, so that's a small victory. I spent the last mile throwing out high fives to people I passed as they were just starting the run. I just love cheering for everyone. Lesson 2: It poured the entire run, I need to run more in the rain because I hate when my face is wet and I can't dry it.
I was thankful to see my pit crew at the finish line. Brian, Jen and Marci were there, soaking wet, cheering loud for me. Thanks guys for coming out! We got back to the hotel and I almost killed myself as I slipped on the carpet where I had sprayed the triglide. That shit is slippery!
As I was out on the course I reflected on a few things:
-When the fuck did everyone else get so fast? I finished 44 minutes earlier than last year, but I still finished dead last in my division and was one of the last few out on the course.
-I need to let go of my expectations about my times and performance. I cannot compare myself to others, especially since I am still carting around that Olsen twin. It's going to make my times slower, no matter how much I want to believe it doesn't matter.
-I need to dump that bitch. Racing would be more fun, training would be easier and I'd get to have a beer before the tent closes. I read a funny article in USA Triathlete "Thoughts from the back of the pack" I was laughing out loud when I was reading it because it was o' so true. I want to know what it's like from the middle of the pack.
-And I want to know what it's like from the front of the pack. Because I have a feeling that when I do ditch the Olsen (and I will) that I will be on the heels of my idols; those ladies in my life that are leading the pack at races.
-I need to respect the race. No matter the distance, it is a race that needs proper prep. I am happy with my performance given the condition I was in when I arrived at the race. But I need to arrive in better condition. I need to get more sleep, more hydration and feeling better. I have decided to do these races, so I need to prioritize it appropriately in my schedule.
-I'm not 23 anymore and I can't do it all and I'm pretty tired from trying. I need to cut down to what's important and say no to the rest. I'm almost 33 but I keep myself programmed non-stop like I'm 23 and I need to realize 10 years does make a difference even though I want to pretend it doesn't...
Overall, finally a race with very few mishaps. "Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors"
For the first time this season I wasn't disappointed with my performance. I gave it my all and left it all on the course. My sciatic nerve was not happy that weekend and the aftermath was definitely clear as I was walking like I had
Seeing that it was lake Michigan I decided to bring out my wetsuit for this race. I lubed up with spray triglide in the hotel room before we left for the start line. It's been two months since I last wore it, so I'm a little out of practice getting that bitch on. My nails were longer, so I had to be careful not to punch a hole. I started to waddle down the hallway. Luckily Brian recommended a cab to the start line, so I didn't have to waddle the .75 miles to the start line (god bless my friends!)
As soon as I hopped in the water to bob like a sea of apples in the lake with my start wave, I knew it was going to be a frustrating swim. I felt constricted and it was hard to breath. I would swim about 200 meters and then need a break to get some air. So I would try breaststroking so I could at least keep forward movement. Sausage shoved in a wetsuit does not stroke anything well. It was impossible, so I would kinda doggy paddle forward a few seconds to get a breath and then keep going. The end buoy seems to move, it takes FOREVER to get to that fucker. Lesson 1: I had better sleep in my wetsuit to get ready for IMAZ next year.
The run to T1 is more than .25 miles. This year they put carpeting down the entire way which was awesome. However, it was a slippery little fucker. I almost fell a dozen times so I decided to walk because my luck I would have ate it. As I moved out of T1 a nice storm was rolling in and down came the rain. Good think I forgot my sunglasses at the hotel.
Out on the ride my new wheels were cutting through the wind. I was passing people left and right and they were staying passed (usually they pop back up). I got a "that's an awesome bike" (compared to last year "you're doing this race on THAT bike?") The wind in our face going North on Lakeshore Drive was ridiculous. I thought "I can't wait to have that shit at my back when I turn around." I turned around, and the wind was twice as bad. The wind WAS at my back. About mile 12 I thought something dropped off my bike but I couldn't see anything so I kept going. A few seconds later I couldn't pedal. Fuck. So I got off and find that my spare tube had fallen off my repair pouch. It was stuck in my crank. I finally got it untangled and secured it (I'm sure it's trashed). Now to put my chain back on with tons of bikes coming at me (I kept imagining someone flying right into me). Finally after about 5 minutes I got it put back on and grease was smeared all over me head to toe. One of my favorite spin instructors, Sharon, came up behind me at mile 24 and we rode the last mile in together. All and all I was pleased, I managed 18mph in the wind. For the first time I really felt like I was racing out on the bike, it was a high like no other.
The run was a shuffle at best. My lower back was super tight from my sciatic nerve issues so I walked the first two miles and popped some advil. Finally it loosened up and I was able to jog. Last year I finished after all the pros. This year the men did lap me, but it was pretty cool to be able to cheer for Hunter Kemper. I was the last person to congratulate him as we both entered the finishers shoot (any guess who they announced finishing? hahah) The women didn't lap me, so that's a small victory. I spent the last mile throwing out high fives to people I passed as they were just starting the run. I just love cheering for everyone. Lesson 2: It poured the entire run, I need to run more in the rain because I hate when my face is wet and I can't dry it.
I was thankful to see my pit crew at the finish line. Brian, Jen and Marci were there, soaking wet, cheering loud for me. Thanks guys for coming out! We got back to the hotel and I almost killed myself as I slipped on the carpet where I had sprayed the triglide. That shit is slippery!
As I was out on the course I reflected on a few things:
-When the fuck did everyone else get so fast? I finished 44 minutes earlier than last year, but I still finished dead last in my division and was one of the last few out on the course.
-I need to let go of my expectations about my times and performance. I cannot compare myself to others, especially since I am still carting around that Olsen twin. It's going to make my times slower, no matter how much I want to believe it doesn't matter.
-I need to dump that bitch. Racing would be more fun, training would be easier and I'd get to have a beer before the tent closes. I read a funny article in USA Triathlete "Thoughts from the back of the pack" I was laughing out loud when I was reading it because it was o' so true. I want to know what it's like from the middle of the pack.
-And I want to know what it's like from the front of the pack. Because I have a feeling that when I do ditch the Olsen (and I will) that I will be on the heels of my idols; those ladies in my life that are leading the pack at races.
-I need to respect the race. No matter the distance, it is a race that needs proper prep. I am happy with my performance given the condition I was in when I arrived at the race. But I need to arrive in better condition. I need to get more sleep, more hydration and feeling better. I have decided to do these races, so I need to prioritize it appropriately in my schedule.
-I'm not 23 anymore and I can't do it all and I'm pretty tired from trying. I need to cut down to what's important and say no to the rest. I'm almost 33 but I keep myself programmed non-stop like I'm 23 and I need to realize 10 years does make a difference even though I want to pretend it doesn't...
Overall, finally a race with very few mishaps. "Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors"
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Where'd that truck come from?
Less than 12 hours later I feel like I got run over by a truck. Where'd that fucker go?
Tri Indy tried my patience and my memory. It might have been one of the worst races of the season, but you know what? I finished strong, with a huge smile on my face and sprinting (yes, sprinting) across the finish.
My bright pink swim cap and I jumped into the canal. Those waves can really get moving with that many people swimming in the canal. Luckily this year no one tried to hitch a ride by grabbing onto my ankle. I did get punched in the whohaw (how the fuck do you swim with a closed fist?) and I looked up to sight and about ran into a guy walking (hello DQ) in the middle of the canal. I got out of the swim and now owned an orange cap. Yeah, you figure that one out.
It was great to see my fellow BoMF'er Melissa in transition and it was nice to have a familiar smiling face waiting by my transition spot.
I was pretty happy with the start of my bike. We had a hurricane come through Indianapolis this morning that delayed the start of the race (okay, so my nose grows a small bit with that description) which caused an hour delay and a shitton of debris in the road. This course is notorious for less-than-ideal roads, so bumps are pretty common. Before I got to mile 7 I saw 15 people fixing flats on the side of the road. Each one I passed I offered assistance and then thanked god and baby jesus that wasn't me. Despite the shitty conditions, I was keeping 18 mph on my cateye. Around mile 7.5 I thought to myself "boy this road is awful bumpy" and then I realized my back tire was flat. Fuckmerunning.
I had never changed a tire in the real world, just in a class. So this was going to test my memory. What do I do with this thingymabob again? Where do I start? It started slowly coming back to me. I was pleasantly surprised with how many people asked if I needed anything and every team member shouted "Chrissy are you okay?" I took the tube out and had a TINY hole in my tube. Who knows how long it had been there. I tried to run my hand on the inside of the tire to check for anything and thought it was clear so I put the new tube in. I got the wheel back on after spending five minutes struggling with my chain (testing my patience and covering my hand in black grease, which would later spread to my face and every part of my uniform). As soon as I put the CO2 in it, I could hear a slow hissing. Fuck! Was it human error? Was there something in there I didn't feel? I didn't want to waste another tube in case it was my fuckup so I started on my way. As I left my spot, my teammate Julie had come back to help - what a sweetheart!
I had to stop 3 times to top off my tire with my other CO2 canister. This was trying my patience. Not only is my little pouch under my seat a pain in the ass to get into, you have to wait for an opening in traffic to rejoin the race. I figure this clusterfuck cost me about 25 minutes in all. Needles to say I'm so glad I didn't race on my new ZIPPS and I need to host a tire changing party to practice.
I started out on the run pretty strong, running most of the way through the path along the zoo. I am so fucking sick of hearing "good for you for just being out here!" from people as the pass me. Yes, nice of you to encourage me. But it's not my first fucking race. Errr. More motivation I guess to lose weight so people stop taking pity on my slow ass pace and then I can pick up the fucking pace. Sydney came up along me with about .7 miles left and I ran the rest of the way with her. I can guarantee you that I would have walked some of that if she hadn't been there - so thank you Sydney for showing me that I CAN run more than I think!
All and all I'm not happy with today. I don't understand how I feel so beat up after a simple fucking sprint tri but finished a 40 mile tri feeling after like I could leap small buildings in a single bound.
But this is all about what you learn. Negative attitudes don't do shit but keep you negative. So on the bright side I got to spend time with the wonderful triathletes in town, many who have become my friends. I got to have a fun car ride with my friend Party Marti and I now know what it feels like to change a tire under the pressure of a race. I was greeted at the finish line by a facebook friend I finally go to meet in person! After the race I got to help little kids do a triathlon. I got to bike for the people who can't. I got to run in honor of my favorite BoMF'ers that no longer can (God I miss you Joe! Your spirit kept me company on the run)
Tri or tri not. There is only do.
Tri Indy tried my patience and my memory. It might have been one of the worst races of the season, but you know what? I finished strong, with a huge smile on my face and sprinting (yes, sprinting) across the finish.
My bright pink swim cap and I jumped into the canal. Those waves can really get moving with that many people swimming in the canal. Luckily this year no one tried to hitch a ride by grabbing onto my ankle. I did get punched in the whohaw (how the fuck do you swim with a closed fist?) and I looked up to sight and about ran into a guy walking (hello DQ) in the middle of the canal. I got out of the swim and now owned an orange cap. Yeah, you figure that one out.
It was great to see my fellow BoMF'er Melissa in transition and it was nice to have a familiar smiling face waiting by my transition spot.
I was pretty happy with the start of my bike. We had a hurricane come through Indianapolis this morning that delayed the start of the race (okay, so my nose grows a small bit with that description) which caused an hour delay and a shitton of debris in the road. This course is notorious for less-than-ideal roads, so bumps are pretty common. Before I got to mile 7 I saw 15 people fixing flats on the side of the road. Each one I passed I offered assistance and then thanked god and baby jesus that wasn't me. Despite the shitty conditions, I was keeping 18 mph on my cateye. Around mile 7.5 I thought to myself "boy this road is awful bumpy" and then I realized my back tire was flat. Fuckmerunning.
I had never changed a tire in the real world, just in a class. So this was going to test my memory. What do I do with this thingymabob again? Where do I start? It started slowly coming back to me. I was pleasantly surprised with how many people asked if I needed anything and every team member shouted "Chrissy are you okay?" I took the tube out and had a TINY hole in my tube. Who knows how long it had been there. I tried to run my hand on the inside of the tire to check for anything and thought it was clear so I put the new tube in. I got the wheel back on after spending five minutes struggling with my chain (testing my patience and covering my hand in black grease, which would later spread to my face and every part of my uniform). As soon as I put the CO2 in it, I could hear a slow hissing. Fuck! Was it human error? Was there something in there I didn't feel? I didn't want to waste another tube in case it was my fuckup so I started on my way. As I left my spot, my teammate Julie had come back to help - what a sweetheart!
I had to stop 3 times to top off my tire with my other CO2 canister. This was trying my patience. Not only is my little pouch under my seat a pain in the ass to get into, you have to wait for an opening in traffic to rejoin the race. I figure this clusterfuck cost me about 25 minutes in all. Needles to say I'm so glad I didn't race on my new ZIPPS and I need to host a tire changing party to practice.
I started out on the run pretty strong, running most of the way through the path along the zoo. I am so fucking sick of hearing "good for you for just being out here!" from people as the pass me. Yes, nice of you to encourage me. But it's not my first fucking race. Errr. More motivation I guess to lose weight so people stop taking pity on my slow ass pace and then I can pick up the fucking pace. Sydney came up along me with about .7 miles left and I ran the rest of the way with her. I can guarantee you that I would have walked some of that if she hadn't been there - so thank you Sydney for showing me that I CAN run more than I think!
All and all I'm not happy with today. I don't understand how I feel so beat up after a simple fucking sprint tri but finished a 40 mile tri feeling after like I could leap small buildings in a single bound.
But this is all about what you learn. Negative attitudes don't do shit but keep you negative. So on the bright side I got to spend time with the wonderful triathletes in town, many who have become my friends. I got to have a fun car ride with my friend Party Marti and I now know what it feels like to change a tire under the pressure of a race. I was greeted at the finish line by a facebook friend I finally go to meet in person! After the race I got to help little kids do a triathlon. I got to bike for the people who can't. I got to run in honor of my favorite BoMF'ers that no longer can (God I miss you Joe! Your spirit kept me company on the run)
Tri or tri not. There is only do.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Fit Flex Fly
Try saying that three times fast. Hell, I can barely get it out right one time.
As I was walking toward F3 to go to my first TRX class there some nice asshat said to me "are you really sure you can do that workout? Hanging from straps attached to the ceiling. Shouldn't you try Curves first?" Seriously? Who the fuck says that kind of stuff to people? It was a woman coming out of Curves. I wanted to say, shouldn't you stick your head up your ass and put your hat on? But I didn't. I just said "yeah, it's pretty fun." Just another day in my life with this new path I've chosen. People doubting your abilities just by looking at you.
So I walk into F3 and am greeted by a fist bump from the owner, Mark. He has a nice sense of humor and a kind way of encouraging you.
The class was awesome: loud and fast-paced music, lots of variety that keeps your HR UP, circuits, stretching and a super quick run to warm up. Add in a class with lots of fun and young professionals, free water and towels and I have to ask you what's not to love.
I hung pretty well with the class. Sweating a shitton and am most positive I'll be feeling it tomorrow.
So to the woman who tried to sell me on curves? No fuckyou very much.
As I was walking toward F3 to go to my first TRX class there some nice asshat said to me "are you really sure you can do that workout? Hanging from straps attached to the ceiling. Shouldn't you try Curves first?" Seriously? Who the fuck says that kind of stuff to people? It was a woman coming out of Curves. I wanted to say, shouldn't you stick your head up your ass and put your hat on? But I didn't. I just said "yeah, it's pretty fun." Just another day in my life with this new path I've chosen. People doubting your abilities just by looking at you.
So I walk into F3 and am greeted by a fist bump from the owner, Mark. He has a nice sense of humor and a kind way of encouraging you.
The class was awesome: loud and fast-paced music, lots of variety that keeps your HR UP, circuits, stretching and a super quick run to warm up. Add in a class with lots of fun and young professionals, free water and towels and I have to ask you what's not to love.
I hung pretty well with the class. Sweating a shitton and am most positive I'll be feeling it tomorrow.
So to the woman who tried to sell me on curves? No fuckyou very much.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Better late than never - Muncie 70.3
It finally came! Muncie 70.3 37.2. Yes, 37.2. I finished, and here's the summary.
I was disappointed that the expo for my first IM70.3 was pretty small and quite pathetic. But that didn't detour me from buying a bike jersey, visor, tshirt, coffee mug and water bottle. (no fucking wonder I'm broke.) I sat in the crowded athlete's meeting and the race director nonchalantly walks up to the podium and says it's been changed to a modified olympic. The room goes silent, but we're all thinking he's joking. Um, no, he keeps talking about the shortened course. Immediately my heart sinks. All that training, all that hype, my parents and best friend have flown in. Seriously, they've flown from the east and west coast to see me do a fucking oly? Wait, I paid $225 for a fucking oly? Most expensive oly E-V-E-R.
I also have to point out that everyone I introduced my mom to, she started by saying "nice to meet you, I swear she didn't get her bad mouth from me." bwhahaha
So they shortened it because the predicted weather for the race was 115 with the heat index. In all honesty, it was a smart decision. There's not only for the athletes (which triathletes are not known for taking a break when they should stop because they are pushing heat stroke), but for all the volunteers and spectators. Races wouldn't happen without the wonderful volunteers. Thanks to my parents, and wonderful friends Andrea, Brian and Charlie for volunteering at the race!!! :)
So to prove that triathletes are terrible at knowing when to take a breather, yours truly developed a terrible cough 3 days prior to the race. I even had a fever Friday night and probably had no business racing. But I did anyway, I never claimed to be smart.
The swim went well. I think it was longer than a mile according to my garmin (I hugged the hell out of the inner buoys). I was happy that I kept up with the wave fairly well for most of the course. Although it's always depressing to see another color swim cap come through the wave. and another. and another. The entire swim my shorts kept coming off! I couldn't get from one buoy to the next without having to pull my shorts up off my upper thighs. Halfway through I even tread water so I could tie them tighter. Still didn't work. I'm just glad I didn't lose my shorts, that would have been one shitty T1 time. And I'm pretty sure you get DQ'd for nudity.
I get on my bike and take off onto the hills out of the area. I realize something is flapping against my leg. Fuck me running, it's my bento box. It had come unstrapped when I transported my bike that morning and I forgot to check it (I took the front wheel off for the first time and turned the handle bars different in the car). If I kept going I was going to lose most of my nutrition and salt stick tablets. I wasn't coordinated enough to fix it while pedaling, because of course it was jimmy-rigged, so I had to get off and fix it. Well getting back into "traffic" on the bike course was ridiculous so I waited for like a good minute before I could "merge" back on course.
The bike course was fast! The first large flat I was about 25 mph. The second time I came through I had fallen to about 15. At this point it dawned on me that I wasn't sweating.. yikes! I picked up some extra hydration and concentrated on getting my hydration back on track. By this time the heat is starting to creep up. I would take a drink of water and then take a swig to shoot back down my shirt to cool me down. It worked but I'm sure was quite the sight to see. I ended up with more than 16 on the bike, but should have been 18 or 19. I was pissed coming in and Andrea later told me I did not look good at all coming back in from the bike. It was pretty fun to have two of my best friends at the bike dismount giving dismount instructions, to see my dad inside transition cheering me on and to get a glass of water from my mom before heading to rack my bike up :-D
(side note.. so later in the car I was commenting about how I was starting to rub pretty bad in the whoha region and couldn't figure out why because I had slathered on the Belgium butter like it was my job. Andrea (non-triathlete) from the back seat says "is it water proof? You were in the water for an hour" I sit there dumbfounded with my mouth open so wide that you could shove bigmouthbillybass right in. Doh, that shit is NOT water proof, no where on the bottle does it say it is for swimming. Well no fucking wonder.)
I broke the cardinal rule and I sat down in transition (it ain't a picnic, right Jaime?) to put my running shoes on. Finally, I was rehydrated! How do I know this? I peed as I sat down..hahah. I go to grab my visor so I can leave T2 and the fucking thing is GONE. I tore my transition gear apart, even went into my neighbors' stuff, it was no where to be found. I was pissed, who would take it? Even worse it was close to 105 now and I had no where to stuff wet sponges on my head.
I started out on the run hoping the culprit got a scorching case of herpes soon as retribution, but then remembered that wasn't nice. So I hoped that it helped them win their age group or something nice like that.
I really should elaborate that my run was a shuffle. At this point it was awesome to see so many of my friends and teammates heading into the last 1-2 miles of the run so I was busy cheering them all on. When the course thinned out I started walked and never really stopped walking until I was coming on the last mile. I couldn't walk two paces without coughing like I was dying. There was a guy that I kept racing. He'd get into the lead, I'd pick up the pace and take over, then he'd pass me. This went on for the end of the race. As I came down the last valley to start the final big hill to the finish and there they were. At least 10 people all in blue from my T3 team cheering me on. My run picked up pace and I wanted to make them all proud with a strong finish. As soon as I started running faster I heard the most familiar sound in my life. My mom's voice cheering me on. She was there with Charlie and they were ringing their loud ass (and very authentic) cow bells. Her voice was the frantic cheer that I remember from all the cheer-able moments in my life.
I came in the finisher's chute and there was more blue cheering me on. There was my dad and Brian and Andrea. And there was the finish line. Once I got through the finish there were members from other teams to congratulate me. I will never get tired of how amazingly awesome this community is full of support.
I got back to my bike to pack up and what was sitting square in the middle of my bright yellow mat? My fucking visor.
Ironman Muncie by the numbers:
too many to count - snot rockets
24 - salt stick tablets consumed
15 - cups of ice dumped down the front of my bra
9 - number of times I got kicked during the swim
7 - miss-fired snot rockets (hey, it happens to everyone)
4 - cups of ice dumped down my shorts
1.5 - number of miles a bee followed me on the run (that shoulda got me runnin'!)
1 - missing visor
0 - number of times I felt like quitting
Thanks to everyone who supported me! Many more races and updates to come!
I was disappointed that the expo for my first IM70.3 was pretty small and quite pathetic. But that didn't detour me from buying a bike jersey, visor, tshirt, coffee mug and water bottle. (no fucking wonder I'm broke.) I sat in the crowded athlete's meeting and the race director nonchalantly walks up to the podium and says it's been changed to a modified olympic. The room goes silent, but we're all thinking he's joking. Um, no, he keeps talking about the shortened course. Immediately my heart sinks. All that training, all that hype, my parents and best friend have flown in. Seriously, they've flown from the east and west coast to see me do a fucking oly? Wait, I paid $225 for a fucking oly? Most expensive oly E-V-E-R.
I also have to point out that everyone I introduced my mom to, she started by saying "nice to meet you, I swear she didn't get her bad mouth from me." bwhahaha
So they shortened it because the predicted weather for the race was 115 with the heat index. In all honesty, it was a smart decision. There's not only for the athletes (which triathletes are not known for taking a break when they should stop because they are pushing heat stroke), but for all the volunteers and spectators. Races wouldn't happen without the wonderful volunteers. Thanks to my parents, and wonderful friends Andrea, Brian and Charlie for volunteering at the race!!! :)
So to prove that triathletes are terrible at knowing when to take a breather, yours truly developed a terrible cough 3 days prior to the race. I even had a fever Friday night and probably had no business racing. But I did anyway, I never claimed to be smart.
The swim went well. I think it was longer than a mile according to my garmin (I hugged the hell out of the inner buoys). I was happy that I kept up with the wave fairly well for most of the course. Although it's always depressing to see another color swim cap come through the wave. and another. and another. The entire swim my shorts kept coming off! I couldn't get from one buoy to the next without having to pull my shorts up off my upper thighs. Halfway through I even tread water so I could tie them tighter. Still didn't work. I'm just glad I didn't lose my shorts, that would have been one shitty T1 time. And I'm pretty sure you get DQ'd for nudity.
I get on my bike and take off onto the hills out of the area. I realize something is flapping against my leg. Fuck me running, it's my bento box. It had come unstrapped when I transported my bike that morning and I forgot to check it (I took the front wheel off for the first time and turned the handle bars different in the car). If I kept going I was going to lose most of my nutrition and salt stick tablets. I wasn't coordinated enough to fix it while pedaling, because of course it was jimmy-rigged, so I had to get off and fix it. Well getting back into "traffic" on the bike course was ridiculous so I waited for like a good minute before I could "merge" back on course.
The bike course was fast! The first large flat I was about 25 mph. The second time I came through I had fallen to about 15. At this point it dawned on me that I wasn't sweating.. yikes! I picked up some extra hydration and concentrated on getting my hydration back on track. By this time the heat is starting to creep up. I would take a drink of water and then take a swig to shoot back down my shirt to cool me down. It worked but I'm sure was quite the sight to see. I ended up with more than 16 on the bike, but should have been 18 or 19. I was pissed coming in and Andrea later told me I did not look good at all coming back in from the bike. It was pretty fun to have two of my best friends at the bike dismount giving dismount instructions, to see my dad inside transition cheering me on and to get a glass of water from my mom before heading to rack my bike up :-D
(side note.. so later in the car I was commenting about how I was starting to rub pretty bad in the whoha region and couldn't figure out why because I had slathered on the Belgium butter like it was my job. Andrea (non-triathlete) from the back seat says "is it water proof? You were in the water for an hour" I sit there dumbfounded with my mouth open so wide that you could shove bigmouthbillybass right in. Doh, that shit is NOT water proof, no where on the bottle does it say it is for swimming. Well no fucking wonder.)
I broke the cardinal rule and I sat down in transition (it ain't a picnic, right Jaime?) to put my running shoes on. Finally, I was rehydrated! How do I know this? I peed as I sat down..hahah. I go to grab my visor so I can leave T2 and the fucking thing is GONE. I tore my transition gear apart, even went into my neighbors' stuff, it was no where to be found. I was pissed, who would take it? Even worse it was close to 105 now and I had no where to stuff wet sponges on my head.
I started out on the run hoping the culprit got a scorching case of herpes soon as retribution, but then remembered that wasn't nice. So I hoped that it helped them win their age group or something nice like that.
I really should elaborate that my run was a shuffle. At this point it was awesome to see so many of my friends and teammates heading into the last 1-2 miles of the run so I was busy cheering them all on. When the course thinned out I started walked and never really stopped walking until I was coming on the last mile. I couldn't walk two paces without coughing like I was dying. There was a guy that I kept racing. He'd get into the lead, I'd pick up the pace and take over, then he'd pass me. This went on for the end of the race. As I came down the last valley to start the final big hill to the finish and there they were. At least 10 people all in blue from my T3 team cheering me on. My run picked up pace and I wanted to make them all proud with a strong finish. As soon as I started running faster I heard the most familiar sound in my life. My mom's voice cheering me on. She was there with Charlie and they were ringing their loud ass (and very authentic) cow bells. Her voice was the frantic cheer that I remember from all the cheer-able moments in my life.
I came in the finisher's chute and there was more blue cheering me on. There was my dad and Brian and Andrea. And there was the finish line. Once I got through the finish there were members from other teams to congratulate me. I will never get tired of how amazingly awesome this community is full of support.
I got back to my bike to pack up and what was sitting square in the middle of my bright yellow mat? My fucking visor.
Ironman Muncie by the numbers:
too many to count - snot rockets
24 - salt stick tablets consumed
15 - cups of ice dumped down the front of my bra
9 - number of times I got kicked during the swim
7 - miss-fired snot rockets (hey, it happens to everyone)
4 - cups of ice dumped down my shorts
1.5 - number of miles a bee followed me on the run (that shoulda got me runnin'!)
1 - missing visor
0 - number of times I felt like quitting
Thanks to everyone who supported me! Many more races and updates to come!
Thursday, July 5, 2012
You don't need a voice
In order to do a 70.3 Ironman, right? Tuesday night I started to get that tickle in my throat. You know the one, "oh shit, I'm going to get sick." That's what happened. Wednesday I had a clear nose but my throat was sore and my chest was congested.
I've been taking medicine hoping that it's some how allergies related. Although now, I hardly have a voice. You don't need a voice in order to race, do you?
The congestion seems to be breaking up, so I'm hopeful by Saturday morning I'll be ready to race in this whoturnedonthefuckingoven heat. Tomorrow's the last day I can take medicine as I shouldn't take it race day, so I hope to kick this asshat outta my chest soon.
I've been taking medicine hoping that it's some how allergies related. Although now, I hardly have a voice. You don't need a voice in order to race, do you?
The congestion seems to be breaking up, so I'm hopeful by Saturday morning I'll be ready to race in this whoturnedonthefuckingoven heat. Tomorrow's the last day I can take medicine as I shouldn't take it race day, so I hope to kick this asshat outta my chest soon.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Who do you inspire?
I bet not many of us think about who we inspire by our words and actions. Until I started this journey, I certainly never thought of myself as someone who sparks inspiration in another person. But I can guarantee you inspire someone. You may never know it, but I bet you do. Whether you're someone who has strong work ethic, someone that can speak your mind (or bite your tongue!), someone that gives time, talent and treasure to others in need. Maybe you're someone facing your fears, someone being who you are despite what others thinks, or a great parent, friend or listener. Or perhaps you're creative, crafty or athletic. There's always a quality in you that will inspire someone else.
Many friends shared my first blog post with their entire Facebook network. I was certainly flattered, and quite honestly, a little embarrassed. Now strangers all over were going to be reading about my wetsuit sweats and calling myself fat publicly for the first time. One reader, started stranger and turned friend, contacted me asking if she could interview me for a blog post for Lululemon Athletica. This request was sparked because I inspire her. I was floored. A champion swimmer, amazing yogi (is that right term? It's kinda one of those hard ones like when do you use alum vs. alumni.. head spinning stuff), and pro triathlete thinks I'M inspiring?! How could that even be possible?
We met, had an amazing chat and discovered more connections between us than I would guessed. The story published was lovely and was definitely a highlight to my training thus far.
I've had several people tell me their stories that sparked with me as the source of inspiration. I'm so grateful that people share this. I have been inspired by this and have started telling people when they inspire me. I'm not sure why I was afraid to before; it's a huge compliment to them, no one will ever think you are dumb for saying that you're inspired.
It doesn't have to be a great feat. Just every day people living their life to the fullest. Don't forget, that even when you're not at your best, you still inspire someone, somewhere.
____________________
I'm six days out from Muncie 70.3 and I am so excited! I am feeling incredibly strong; both body and spirit. I went on a great ride with one of my biking mentors and she commented on the visible improvement since our last ride. That is a huge boost of encouragement. I'm so excited for my parents and friends to come into town for my race! I'm so grateful that my family and friends are willing to commit a huge chunk of their Saturday in the skin-melting heat.
I got a new pair of glasses last week that I think will be awesome, they even have air vent holes in the lenses. Right before Eagle Creek my glasses broke, so I bought a new pair. I put them on and they immediately fogged up (you get what you pay for) and so I tucked them into my jersey and they nestled tightly into my cleavage. Around mile 7 they popped right out, slippery little fuckers. I was going to try to be cool and wear an old pair of aviators, but they slip off my face too much and are just annoying; like that case of crabs that just won't go away (right Timpe?!).
Eagle Creek was a good and bad race. Bad in that I thought with all this training I was going to come out and kill the course and post a HUGE PR over last year. I didn't, turns out less than 10 minutes. I was really bummed about that. BUT the good outweigh the bad. I remember last year, I didn't know ANYONE. I stood in the athlete's meeting embarrassed to be the biggest girl out there in my skin tight tri gear and had no one to talk to. This year, still the same chubster as last year, I stood proud in a sea of blue with my teammates. I chatted with people from other teams, people I know from my bike club, BOMF, volunteering and swim clinics. What a world of difference a year makes. You are constantly passing people that you know. Everyone cheers for each other. Everyone encourages you and you encourage them. The downside to this? When you're not pushing yourself as hard as you should be, there's people now there to call you on your shit. Because they know you can push harder.
"Come on Chrissy, run, I know you can" Well fuck, you're right. It's a good thing, you only get better when you train with people better than you.
I will probably be puking sunshine and rainbows all over Facebook this week. But I need to make sure my head is filled with the "you are going to do it" voice and not the "you fucking can't do it" voice that made the ugly appearance in June. Because I can do it and I just need to keep reminding myself.
Many friends shared my first blog post with their entire Facebook network. I was certainly flattered, and quite honestly, a little embarrassed. Now strangers all over were going to be reading about my wetsuit sweats and calling myself fat publicly for the first time. One reader, started stranger and turned friend, contacted me asking if she could interview me for a blog post for Lululemon Athletica. This request was sparked because I inspire her. I was floored. A champion swimmer, amazing yogi (is that right term? It's kinda one of those hard ones like when do you use alum vs. alumni.. head spinning stuff), and pro triathlete thinks I'M inspiring?! How could that even be possible?
We met, had an amazing chat and discovered more connections between us than I would guessed. The story published was lovely and was definitely a highlight to my training thus far.
I've had several people tell me their stories that sparked with me as the source of inspiration. I'm so grateful that people share this. I have been inspired by this and have started telling people when they inspire me. I'm not sure why I was afraid to before; it's a huge compliment to them, no one will ever think you are dumb for saying that you're inspired.
It doesn't have to be a great feat. Just every day people living their life to the fullest. Don't forget, that even when you're not at your best, you still inspire someone, somewhere.
____________________
I'm six days out from Muncie 70.3 and I am so excited! I am feeling incredibly strong; both body and spirit. I went on a great ride with one of my biking mentors and she commented on the visible improvement since our last ride. That is a huge boost of encouragement. I'm so excited for my parents and friends to come into town for my race! I'm so grateful that my family and friends are willing to commit a huge chunk of their Saturday in the skin-melting heat.
I got a new pair of glasses last week that I think will be awesome, they even have air vent holes in the lenses. Right before Eagle Creek my glasses broke, so I bought a new pair. I put them on and they immediately fogged up (you get what you pay for) and so I tucked them into my jersey and they nestled tightly into my cleavage. Around mile 7 they popped right out, slippery little fuckers. I was going to try to be cool and wear an old pair of aviators, but they slip off my face too much and are just annoying; like that case of crabs that just won't go away (right Timpe?!).
Eagle Creek was a good and bad race. Bad in that I thought with all this training I was going to come out and kill the course and post a HUGE PR over last year. I didn't, turns out less than 10 minutes. I was really bummed about that. BUT the good outweigh the bad. I remember last year, I didn't know ANYONE. I stood in the athlete's meeting embarrassed to be the biggest girl out there in my skin tight tri gear and had no one to talk to. This year, still the same chubster as last year, I stood proud in a sea of blue with my teammates. I chatted with people from other teams, people I know from my bike club, BOMF, volunteering and swim clinics. What a world of difference a year makes. You are constantly passing people that you know. Everyone cheers for each other. Everyone encourages you and you encourage them. The downside to this? When you're not pushing yourself as hard as you should be, there's people now there to call you on your shit. Because they know you can push harder.
"Come on Chrissy, run, I know you can" Well fuck, you're right. It's a good thing, you only get better when you train with people better than you.
I will probably be puking sunshine and rainbows all over Facebook this week. But I need to make sure my head is filled with the "you are going to do it" voice and not the "you fucking can't do it" voice that made the ugly appearance in June. Because I can do it and I just need to keep reminding myself.
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