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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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."