Yes...I know you think I'm crazy...

Writing It All Down

2012-01-18T15:24:00.001-05:00

I am a writer. Not that I get paid to do so. But I'm a writer. Obviously, you're reading something I've written right now. Some things I write to share with other people, some things I write just to get it out of my head, and them immediately wish I could burn it...never to think about that thing ever again. Over the years, it's become a comfort to me. And through my writing, I have gotten support, feedback, contradiction and compassion...none of which I would have received had I not written it down.

There are other aspects of my life that seem to be recorded for posterity...or other pursuits as well. I write down what I eat to keep track of calories. I (occasionally) write down how much money I spend to keep track of my budget. But oddly enough, the one thing I haven't done well at is writing down how many miles I ran, rode, or swam.

My Grandma, yes, the crazy Grandma that roller skated down a huge hill, wrote everything down. For years growing up, I was amazed at what she wrote down. Every single day, she would write how many steps she would take, with the goal of being taking a certain number of steps every day for exercise. And I'm not just talking about the times she actually went for a walk, the woman included the steps she took to go to the bathroom, or out to the kitchen. EVERY SINGLE STEP. Beyond her exercise goals, she still wrote everything down. Of course, she and my grandpa came from the era where most of their courtship was handled from letters. Unfortunately, we'll never know her side of the story, because after my grandpa wanted her to throw out his letters, she did the exact opposite. She stashed his letters away, and burned her own. This is one of the most unfortunate things I can imagine, because there was one afternoon growing up that my family sat down (sans grandparents) and read my grandpa's letters. It's the hardest I ever remember laughing. Beyond that, it's the hardest I ever remember my dad laughing growing up (which is saying something if you know my dad). To date, there are still journals of my grandma's that my parents refer back to when the need arises to know when a certain cousin's birthday is, or when some other significant life event happened. Even when they built the house in Florida, my grandma wrote down every single thing they paid for, and how much it cost. Looking back, it may not all be relevant to life today, but, it's still interesting. It's like a history lesson. Ok, it's not like a history lesson. It IS a history lesson.

So...what is my point here? Some would say that I write a lot of stuff about my life down. And I do. But I think I could do better. I'm not about to start recording every single step that I take a day, or writing a daily journal of what I do. But something I have found helpful is to be able to quantify what I have done. Maybe if I had recorded how many laps I had swam last year, I would have been prompted to take action about quantity there before. Or knowing how many miles I've ran to train for a marathon. It doesn't matter if I share it with anyone, but it may actually help to keep track, keep myself accountable for what I do. So I've tried to do...better...this year so far about recording what workouts I've done when. So maybe, by the time September rolls around, and I (keeping all fingers, toes, and all other appendages crossed) cross the finish line at Cedar Point, I'll be able to say...yes, today I crossed 140.6 miles today. But x amount of miles is what the journey really included. Or something prolific like that.

I try not to dwell on the past very often. It happened, it's done. Let's move forward. But my history, history in general is something that we carry with us no matter who we are, or where we go in life. And there is something to be said that we can't really move forward until we know where we've been. To put it another way, I've been down that path before, and it didn't work out so well, so why would I be crazy enough to do it again? So every once in a while, I find it useful to take a look back, see where I've been, where I am now, and reflect on the journey to get from point A to point B. I'm not the same person I was 10 years ago, I'm not even the same person I was a year ago. There are definitely pieces that are much the same, but I've grown a lot. Changed, some might even say. But I do carry those pieces of me moving forward. The written reminder just helps to remember it correctly.

Salad Stylings

2012-01-17T14:16:00.001-05:00

Hello, my name is Johanna, and I hate salad.

If you're trying to eat a healthy diet of food, salad has always been at the top of the list of things to eat. And, of course, doctors have told us for many years that eating a lot of leafy green veggies is one of the keys to a successful healthy lifestyle.

But here's the thing, I really just don't enjoy salad. In all honestly, I probably never have, even way back to when I was a kid. In fact, I remember one meal when I was at some buffet-type restaurant, and I loaded up my plate with a little bit of lettuce, and a lot of toppings. As my dad was going through the line behind me, he even commented that I really wasn't putting a salad together, so much as a mixture of the yummy stuff. (At the time, he probably phrased it quite differently, but the sentiment is still the same.) Even now, I will eat whatever leafy greens make up the actual "salad" portion of the meal, and then leave the toppings for last. It's nice to know that some things never change.

As I mentioned previously, if you're trying to eat healthy (like I do) salads are the staple food. But also, when you happen to be genetically inferior like me (gluten AND dairy free...not just by choice) you are often relegated to the world of salads. For example, last week, I was presenting at a school, and some of the directors wanted it go to lunch together. Not knowing the city we were in, I was at a loss for what to suggest. The executive director took over, and suggested an Italian restaurant. I immediately prayed that actually had salad, because even if the standard salad comes with cheese, it's not a huge deal to request that it not come with cheese.

But are you getting the idea that I'm fun to eat with? Because it's a joy sometimes, and makes me feel ridiculously high maintenance. Perhaps I should just wear a button that says "I'm not really high maintenance, it's just my GI track that is." There have been many meals where I've had to order something like: I'd like a bowl of chili, but no cheese on that, and I'd like the grilled chicken sandwich without the bread. Yes, just give me all the toppings, and the chicken, but not bread. Or when the meal actually comes out: I'm sorry, the description on the menu didn't include that you poured an entire cup of cheese over the spinach, so I would really appreciate (and so would my traveling companions) if you could take that back to the kitchen, not spit in it, and bring it back dairy free. Thanks! Or even: I ordered the naked tenders, not the regular ones, so no, I'm not going to keep the thing that I didn't order, and yes, I'm going to cut your tip because you didn't pay attention to what I ordered, brought me the wrong thing, and then expected me to eat it anyway. :)

So anyway, back to the scary Italian restaurant. They did have salad, they actually had salad that didn't automatically come with cheese on it, thus my looking like an ass hat that doesn't like food was significantly reduced. And I ate the salad. There were even moments that I enjoyed what I was eating. Admittedly, those were the moments when I was eating the toppings, but still...there were a few enjoyable bites in there. And of course, I ate the entire thing because even at 2pm, I was aware that this would be my only chance to eat any amount of food of substance until after 10pm when I would get back home.

I'm sure I can't be the only one out there that doesn't like salad. I've admitted it, it took a long time to do so, but I did it. And I would like to stand up and say that it's ok not to like salad. It doesn't mean that I don't eat healthy. But I'm more likely to eat tomatoes, avocado, bell peppers, and whatever other veggie I'm in the mood for sans lettuce, spinach, arugula or whatever leafy green you might throw my way.

A Year in Review

2011-12-30T09:10:00.001-05:00

Typically, I do my yearly reflection around my birthday, but considering I was peaking for Ironman training, among other things that kept my brain less than fully functioning, even if I had attempted to do anything like that, it wouldn't have been overly successful. So, now at the end of the year, why not.

I'm not one to make resolutions. I never have been. I don't need a holiday to celebrate something, and I don't need the end of a year to incite me to make any significant life changes. But the fact that the end of the calendar year coincides with other events to lead me to make some changes is merely a coincidence. I swear.

In looking back over the past year, the first thing that comes to mind is...do I feel any different than I did a year ago? Did anything major happen? And my first instinct is to say...no. I don't feel any different than I did a year ago. But taking a step back, of course, the changes are there. Was it really just a year ago that I was preparing to run 42.4 miles in the course of 3 days. And a year ago, I was ramping up to my first Ironman.

It's been a rough year. Let's leave it at that, because re-hashing the failures of the past year isn't a positive thing in my head right now. And would only cause more pain than they're worth. But to say that I have learned things is obvious. I've learned things about myself. I've learned things about racing. And beyond anything else, I have learned that being cold really sucks.

But let's point out a few key positive points from the past year.

I learned that I can, in fact, run 42.4 miles in the course of 3 days and survive. When it comes to racing, this is definitely the highlight of the past year. And I have a lot of bling as a result.
Not so much a learning experience as an overcoming experience...I started having fun riding my bike, and I lost some of the fear that having half of my face scraped off a couple of years ago gave me.
I have a long way to go, and an uphill battle all the way. But I work best when I have tough circumstances to fight against, so I'm putting this in the positive column as well.

In looking at the past, I want to leave it there, in the past. The rough training and racing days. The thousands of airline miles I have accumulated over the past year, and none of it for a truly relaxing experience (except the one I'm nearing the end of right now). The bad dates, and not really any good ones (bad just isn't nearly a good enough descriptor for some of the things I've experienced over the past year, but we don't have nearly enough time to re-hash all of that right now...nor should I need to). The fun, the pain, the joy. All of it. Sometimes I really do just want to leave it all in the past. Locked away for good, never to see the light of day ever again.

It isn't possible. All of the experiences that I've had in the past go with me everywhere I go. I can't let them weigh me down, as that would impede progress of any form. But it's all back there, as a gentle reminder. Some of it reminds me to work harder, no matter how tired, or cranky I am. Some of it reminds me of the things I have overcome. But it's all there.

So...what's next? If I thought the past year was a big one, I think the upcoming year is going to be even bigger. And hopefully better. And I have goals, a lot of goals. One of them is slightly dependent upon an email I'm supposed to receive on January 6, which could affect where I am 6 months from now. But I'm still trying not to think about it too much (is that creating enough suspense?) (It really shouldn't, just look at past posts) I know that I want to get more comfortable in the water this year. Not that I'm uncomfortable. Ok, so I don't want to suck as badly at swimming. And beyond that, there are race goals, personal goals, weight goals, everything. But I'm hesitant to say I want to finish x amount of races before I can do y, and if I don't weigh z before then I'm going to be really upset with myself. Nothing good can come from that. I will do what I can do, and I will be as pleased with the result as I can be.

Ok, so I finally want to finish a stupid Ironman.
I want to get into Law School.
And I really want to drop 30 (35?) pounds before all of that happens.

There. I said it. It's all out there in the open. But one of the most important things that the past year has taught me is that you absolutely should set goals, and you may or may not accomplish them. But it's what you do after that that is most important. You can either lay down and quit, or you can get up and fight. Fight for what you want. Strive for what you want. Figure out what you need to do to make it happen, whatever that may be. But...Do. Not. Quit.

I think it's obvious the path I have chosen.

The Retirement Lifestyle

2011-12-24T10:56:00.001-05:00

At the ripe old age of 30, I'm well on my way to becoming a full fledged snowbird. Accidentally, of course. It all started with my grandparents around 35 years ago. They somehow heard of this community in the middle of Florida that was affiliated with the Free Methodist Church. It was perfect for them. It started off as a campground for retired folks, and over the past 50 years has blossomed into a somewhat normal retirement village. And 30 years ago, my grandparents built a house. As a child, it was a grand adventure for my family to visit my grandparents. We were able to leave the cold of Middle America behind for a brief foray into the 80 degree sunniness that Florida tends to be in the middle of winter. And it's a gated community, so my parents could kick my brother and I out of the house to play without fearing for our lives.

When my grandparents passed away 10 years ago, my parents inherited the house, and thus the tradition of migrating South for the winter. And because I needed a relatively cheap vacation getaway, I started visiting my parents while they were here, as they had visited my grandparents. And as my parents realized when they picked me up from the airport Tuesday evening, this is at least my fifth year in a row that I have visited them here.

Disclaimer, the previous two times that I visited here, I did just about the most anti-retirement thing possible. I ran a marathon. And a half. So I think my days of having blue hair and driving 5 miles an hour are not in my immediate future.

I think I truly started appreciating this place when I was in college. And not just because it offered a very cheap housing option to 4 rather destitute college girls. It's a place to relax. It's incredibly quiet. Safe. And the biggest thing you have to worry about is my Grandpa's best friend coming to say hi at 10pm, wondering what we youngsters were up to. And then the utter disappointment in his voice when we told him that we were going to bed. Apparently, we were too boring for him because he was off to a friends house to play games.

But that trip really defined what this place is to me. It's a place to relax. Where I can sit on the front porch reading a book, and waving to the neighbors as they go by. A place with all of the comforts of home, without the cold weather of home. A place where the clothes that I put in the dirty laundry bin magically turn up clean and folded on my bed. It's the place where old men stand in the middle of the street solving all of the worlds problems A place where I can help my dad hang Christmas lights while wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and go for an hour long bike ride and not break a sweat.

I have to say, I think I love it here.

Taking a step back, and looking at things, I should hate it here. It's a planned community (strike 1) in the middle of redneck country (strike 2) where you can go to the grocery store and see a man in a tank top (strike 3) with a tattoo on his left arm saying "white" and on his right a tattoo saying "pride" (strikes 4, 5, 6 and 7) (and maybe 8), and all around you see bubba trucks and Confederate flags (strikes 9 and 10). With little to no cell phone service (we'll chalk that one up under the positive column for now). And often I am the youngest person sitting at the table, by more than 20 years (most often, I am neutral on this one). Outside the walls of this community, I should never visit here. Nevermind the fact that it's 45 minutes from Disney World (positive column) and 45 minutes from the beach (negative, considering I hate the beach). But aside from the fact that the actual town has way too many chain restaurants, it's not so bad. Oh, and a really awesome tourist trap about 20 minutes away with the largest collection of antique planes in America (huge mark in the plus column, as I am a nerd and enjoy visiting places like that). So, all in all, the area has enough positive features that I don't go insane.

Plus, 80 degrees and sunny in the middle of December, yes please!

I do think I would make a good retiree. You don't really sleep in, but you don't set an alarm either. You get up, and make coffee, without really needing to be in a rush about it. Whenever you're hungry, you make breakfast, and read, and do whatever else you want. And then, if the mood strikes you, you can take a bike ride, or go for a walk, or just sit around doing not much of anything because that's what you feel like doing. You bake when you want to. And you get to invite your friends over in the evenings to have dinner, or snacks, and play games. (I totally cleaned up last night playing 5 Crowns, by the way).

Actually, can't I just retire now?

Oh, you say the minimum age requirement is 55?

Damn, I guess I'll just have to wait another 25 years.

I Admit It, I'm a Wuss

2011-12-20T11:41:00.003-05:00

When it comes to being cold, only. As previously mentioned, I have always been sensitive to cold weather. Not that it stopped me from wearing flip flops in 40 degree weather. Because I did on a regular basis.

But now, not so much. The whole hypothermia thing has definitely made me a wuss when it comes to being cold. I've even been *gasp* willing to put socks on. When I'm just hanging out in my apartment. I overdress when I know I'm going to be outside for longer than 5 minutes. I even brought a pair of gloves to wear at work because they keep our office somewhat colder than an icebox (at least that's what it feels like to me). And I'm not even upset that I'll be missing a cold Christmas.

This seems very strange to me. But if it helps prevent hypothermia again in the future, I suppose I'm all for it.

But that still doesn't mean I have to like wearing socks all the time.

The Healing Process

2011-12-08T12:52:00.001-05:00

Ironman Arizona was 2 and a half weeks ago. I've now been back to work (in my office) for a week. Every day in the 2 and a half week, every single day, I've had to explain to someone what happened. I have accepted what happened that day from the very beginning, in fact, probably before I actually missed the cut off, I had prepared myself for this. And I also knew from the very beginning that I was going to have to tell people. And that telling people was going to suck. And I was fairly certain of the responses that I was going to get from people. From my endurance athlete friends, they surpassed the anticipated support and comfort offered. Occasionally, from my non-endurance athlete friends, you get the deer in the headlights look. I've told them what happened, and they really didn't understand what I was doing in the first place, or what it really meant. So then to hear that I wasn't successful is baffling to them. They REALLY don't know what that means. This is also, occasionally, amusing. But far more frequently, it's frustrating. I understand that people mean well when they ask about it. But it's getting really freaking old. How much longer am I going to have to answer this question? Days, weeks...MONTHS???

In an attempt not to go bat-shit crazy, pull my hair out, or beat anyone who might ask me the dreaded question with a 2x4, I am instead using this as motivation. Motivation in the form of "I never want to answer this question ever again, so I'm going to make sure I don't have to" type of motivation.

I knew long before the race that I wanted and needed to take some time off. Other than when I was recovering from surgery, I haven't really taken time off from working out, or at the very least, given myself permission to take time off...so I wouldn't feel guilty for not working out. I gave myself 2 weeks, and then a week of transitional time (which we're currently in the middle of).

The two weeks off were...somewhat fantastic. I wasn't at home, which was fine. I spent time with family, I ate pizza and cookies with great pleasure, and I had some very lovely wine. I gained weight, and I knew at the time what I was eating was going to make that happen. And I gave myself permission for that to be ok. So what happened at the end of the two weeks? I came back home, and felt like crap because I had been eating pizza, and other assorted yumminess and stepped on the scale. My first thought was "huh, I didn't gain as much as expected." Ok, so it was 4 pounds.

I immediately got back on the wagon of eating healthy (except for one, well deserved evening where I consumed a mostly liquid dinner with two of my favorite people...and the following day where the fastest way to feel better was to eat some greasy food). I even did my first official, structured work out this week. And it felt great.

So, at the moment, I'm feeling a bit of...what's next? Where do I go from here? Well, my winter goals of strength training and swimming are still at the top of the list. And I need to make a more structured training schedule for myself. Nothing super intensive, no two a day workouts. Something manageable, but productive. Any maybe throw in some stuff that isn't swimming, biking or running. *gasp* Maybe doing something else that -

Sorry...my mind began to wander. And I found myself incapable of finishing that sentence. It's purely to blame on sentence structure because I was thinking "other things that make you sweat" and in my head I was referring to cleaning my apartment (because mopping floors can be hard work). And then I listened to my own sentence in my head. And now I'm sure you're thinking it too.

You're welcome :)

It's funny, one would think it's the physical trauma that your body needs the most recovery from. And while your body does need rest, I often think/wonder if it's the mental recovery that takes longer. I know I definitely need the time. And I'm looking forward to checking off a few of things on my "when I have time, I should really..." list.

Am I Positive?

2011-12-01T20:24:00.001-05:00

Over the past week and a half, I haven't been able to write. Ok, so I've been able to write, but I'll get half way through something, deem it crap, and discard it. In the precise moment I let everyone know what happened at IMAZ, and subsequently wanted to be left the F*$^ alone...my friends and loved ones did the exact opposite. I was immediately flooded with emails, text messages, comments, etc. Turns out, what you all did was exactly what I needed. [Side note: Thank you doesn't do it justice. It really doesn't. I'm still rather speechless about it all, so until better words are formed in my brain, thank you will just have to do.]

But the content of what everyone was saying to me shocked me just a little. I still got called a rockstar. And many people commented on my positive attitude. In fact, one person mentioned the desire to bottle my positivity and hock it on QVC.

Now, positive is not necessarily a word I would typically use to describe myself. Being the formerly really fat girl with eating disorders has always bread more of a self doubt type of rational going on in my brain. So, my insistence on not quitting until either 1) I got my chip pulled or 2) finishing isn't something I see as being positive. I see it more as being stubborn. And my willingness, in fact, insistence upon immediately trying again may have more to do with the fact that I'm 1) again, stubborn, and 2) already signed up for Cedar Point. And in fact, internal positivity is something that I deemed worthy to add to my list of stuff to work on over the next year. I can do this...I WILL do this. You know, stuff like that.

In fact, in the not to distant past, one person actually told me that I should be a more positive person and that way, more people will want to be around me.

But what I will admit to is that over the past few years, I have gained an incredible amount of self-confidence. There are always days where I feel fat and ugly and like I can't do anything. Let me tell you, having taken two weeks off completely from working out and eating healthy has me feeling down in the dumps about myself a little bit. Well, maybe not down in the dumps per se. Frumpy. I feel frumpy, and unattractive.

But maybe, just maybe, I'm not frumpy and unattractive. I was on a business trip this week for work, staying in the middle of no where in Iowa. Ok, I was in Des Moines. And most of Iowa should be considered the middle of no where. Except for where this really adorable 19 month old lives. After a long day of work, (and have I mentioned not only am I feeling frumpy, I am also sick with a cold. Bonus points added to the I'm not so hot this week column) I walked into the lobby of my hotel. And there was a huge group of guys. And I'm a girl. And I just walked in the room. Every single pair of eyes in the room was on me. My immediate reaction was to shyly put my head down and walk through the room as quickly as possible. But then I remembered I was wearing my super cute new red heels. And no one wearing super cute red heels should shyly put their head down and walk through a room filled with guys, whose attention is focused on me in that moment. So I lifted my head, put my shoulders back a bit (ok, so I had on a backpack and my shoulders were already pretty much back) and walked through the room. I may have even smiled. Eat your heart out boys.

In that precise moment, I made a pact with myself. Don't shy away from the boys attention. There will come a day when walking in to a room isn't going to turn heads, so you might as well enjoy it while you can.

So where was I going with all of this? Maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the line, I somehow became a rather positive person. And gosh darn it, people like me. You really like me. And I can do anything that I set my mind to.

Hypothermia Sucks

2011-11-21T07:14:00.001-05:00

While this can't actually be called a "race report," (as so few of my reports can actually be called) we will, instead, call this an "event report."

Never in my life has one single event caused so many nightmares - true nightmares - including waking up in a panic, unable to breathe, and immediately checking to make sure that Cedric was still in one piece. I even blame Ironman for several work inspired nightmares. So, to say the least, I knew my subconscious was aware that this was a huge freaking deal.

(May I make a side note here that the coffee maker in our hotel is the slowest I have ever encountered? Because it's ridiculously slow, and anything impeding the intake of coffee should be shot)

The last 24 hours have sucked. There's no other way to describe it. They sucked. Big time.

I have always had a tendency to get cold extremely easy. I literally turn purple in 60 degree weather if I'm not dressed appropriately. And it is difficult, and often takes extreme measures for me to get warm again. In fact, even since we have been in Arizona, I have been bundled up in warm clothes, and still feel the chill. And it's been 70 degrees. But even looking at other people in tank tops and shorts makes me shiver when I'm feeling chilled. One would look at me and think that I have enough insulation that this wouldn't be a problem, but even when I weighed nearly 300 pounds, I still had this issue (though, admittedly, not as bad). But my mom is often the same way, so I'm blaming her bad genes.

Knowing this, I knew that a 2.4 mile swim in 61 degree water was not going to be fun. But I had survived a 1.2 miles swim in 63 degree weather less than 2 months ago. I had neoprene booties, and a full wetsuit, so I was as prepared as I am going to be. There is the option of a neoprene cap, but that has a chin strap, and my asthma often manifests in my throat, and having the extra constriction there is going to cause other problems. Breathe and feel the cold even more, or not breathe and feel slightly less cold. It's the Catch 22 of swimming in cold water. Considering I've already had one asthma attack coming out of the water, I chose breathing as the higher priority for yesterday, and didn't even seriously consider the neoprene cap. Looking back, had I, we'll never know.

So, I jump in the water yesterday morning, and get quite a shock. The water if freezing cold, and feels much colder than 61 degrees. So shocking, it makes me hyperventilate a little bit. And as I'm "swimming" to the start (which really meant that I was doing a half assed job of a side stroke) I try to calm myself down, remind myself to take some deep breathes. So I do, and that works. But then I look up, and see the Team Z coaches. Who surprised us by flying in for the race to support everyone. So then I'm crying. Ya bastards. We yell back and forth, and wave. And before we knew it, it was starting.

Leading up to the event, I reflected on past swims, and I often don't enjoy the swim. I just can't wait to get out of the water. It's not that I really don't like swimming, it's just that I kinda suck at it. I don't have awful form, but I'm just slow. But even with being slow, I had done the math, and if I were to swim my slowest average pace for the entire 2.4 miles (barring any unforeseen incident) I would still make it out of the water with plenty of time to spare. So I really worked on having a conversation with myself (as I occasionally do when I need to really focus on something) and tried to remind myself to enjoy the swim. Enjoy the entire day, but instead of being impatient with the swim, enjoy it.

The first half, this works. I end up towards the back of the pack, which I expected to be there anyway, but, (woohoo!!) I wasn't there alone. I actually rather enjoy the swim course for IMAZ. It's a one loop course, starting under the Mill Ave. Bridge, down to Rural Rd. bridge, past it just a bit, then turn around and swim back. Simple enough. I get under the Rural Rd. bridge, and one of the kayakers tells me we're at 52 minutes, which means I'm right on pace. But I swear, getting to the turn buoy, and then across the lake took FOREVER! It was against the current, and it pissed me off a little. So once I got to the turn buoy heading back down the lake, I stopped for a breather. A few seconds later, and I was swimming again, thinking I was doing really good because now we were swimming with the current.

But this is were I really started feeling cold. My hands were completely numb, and my feet, even through the neoprene booties, were almost as bad as my hands. So I stopped again, and hung on to a kayak. The guy in the kayak was very nice. Asked my name, where I was from, so I told him. And because I thought he was being nice, I asked his name too. It was Garret. It wasn't until I started swimming again that I remembered something Robin told us at the BBQ the day before about her stint as a volunteer at the finish line. Ask the participants their names and where they are from as an indicator if they need medical attention or not. And I realized that's what he was doing to me! But I knew my name, and where I was from, so we're all good.

One of the things I like about being at the back of the pack swimming is you get your own personal escort back to the finish. Sometimes 2 or 3. You get company, and sighting is a breeze. One of the guys on a paddle board kept talking to me as I was swimming, and kept letting me know how much time I had, and was supportive, kept telling me that I had good form, my breathing looked good, etc.

But I was getting really cold. And I knew that I was going to be cutting it close to the swim cut off. So I prepared myself on the swim back. If you don't make the swim cut off, it's ok. Go back to the hotel, shower, and come back and cheer for everyone else. But you WILL keep moving forward until they take your chip. Towards the end of the swim, in the few lucid moments that I had, I was so miserable, I was actually going to be really upset if I did make the swim cut off.

I'm not exactly sure where I was when things started going south, and fast. I know it was on the swim back. And I know at that point I had either a paddle boarder or a kayak on each side of me. And I know that there were other people out there with me still swimming. But things got really fuzzy for me. I was tired, and I don't think I realized at the time how tired I was, and how much that was slowing me down. At one point, I remember breathing, and turning my head to site, but not being able to because I realized my eyes were closed. But I kept moving forward. Because that has (apparently) been ingrained in my brain. You keep moving forward no matter what happens. So I kept swimming. And on the turn back to the dock, everyone was yelling and cheering for us. My kayaker kept yelling my number, telling me to pull and dig deep. At least I think that's what they were saying.

I get to the bottom of the stairs, and there is a volunteer there to help us get out of the water. And he literally had to pull me out of the water because I couldn't help myself at all. I think it was someone else (as I said, things are a little fuzzy) and I basically collapsed against him, and leans down and tells me that I didn't make it. I shake my head, and they carry me up the stairs. Realizing that I can't hold myself upright, they sit me down on the steps and take half of my wetsuit off. One of the medical volunteers comes up to sit next to me, asks how I'm doing and I just remember saying "cold" over and over. After a couple of minutes, 2 guys walk (drag) me to the warming tent, where they put me in a warm bath, take off the rest of my wetsuit, and make sure I'm not close to death. Which is pretty much how I felt at the time.

I have to say, the medical volunteers and staff there are top notch. One volunteer sat with me, and I kept telling her that they had to tell my mom I was ok. I knew that she would be worried, and I didn't want her to get upset. She'd been through Musselman with me, and I knew that if she had another experience like that, I'd never get her to another race again. So she asked what my mom was wearing, went out twice to find her, with no success. Which made me even more worried. But I was also still really freaking cold. While in the warm bath, my hands felt like I was getting stabbed with 1000 needles, which made me want to pull them out of the water, but they kept telling me to stay in the bath. Until another old guy came in the warming tent, and one of their ideas was to put us in the warm bath together. Uhh...no thank you. So I willingly moved to one of the cots they had set up, and they wrapped me up like a burrito. And then I started shivering. I'm not sure how long it took to start feeling better, but, to me, it was faster than I expected. So I get wrapped up in a couple of mylar blankets (because all I was wearing at the time were my tri shorts and a sports bra) and I walk out of the tent, and there are my parents waiting for me. I walk over, and put my head on my mom's shoulder, and I tell them that I didn't make it. Then I ask my mom if she would be really mad if I wanted to try this again sometime. Her answer was "let's not talk about this right now." She wasn't mad though (whew) and by the end of the day, she mentioned how doing IMAZ again wouldn't be so bad because it's well organized and it's easy for spectators to get around. Yeah...she'll be back.

So I walk around, figure out what I need to do, which is get my gear bags, turn in my chip, and then I'm free. So I do that, and I tell the parents that I want to go back to the hotel, shower, and come back and cheer. They agree, so we head back to the hotel.

As I was getting my gear bags, one of the volunteers came up to me and asked if she could give me a hug. I agree, and she told me that she was proud of me for just getting out there. I had been doing ok in the not crying department, but I really almost lost it right there.

So I showered, realized that I had more wetsuit hickeys than I originally thought, and got dressed to head back out to the race. The only other time I almost lost it was when we first saw the bike course. I teared up. But I was there to cheer. So I did. I think the best moment was on the run course, I saw Nicholas, and the look of shock on his face when he saw me on the sidelines was just a little funny. But by this time, I was still cold. Everyone around me was, at most, wearing a long sleeve shirt, or a light jacket. I had on 3 shirts (2 made out of wicking material) and a fleece jacket. And I was still shivering. And beyond that, I was drained. My mom has always told me she knew when I was younger when I was faking being sick because she can always tell in my eyes how I'm feeling. And yesterday evening, I wasn't doing so well. So our day was done. On one hand, I'm disappointed that I didn't get to see everyone finish. But at the same time, I don't think I could have handled seeing everyone else finish when I didn't get to join them.

There are many days that I feel like I do a better job at being a cheerleader than I do a participant. Which also makes me wonder why, after the year that I've had, I still want to do this. I think the best answer is that I don't want to quit. I have this goal, and yesterday just wasn't my day. This year wasn't my year. But I don't want to quit. As one of my friend's said yesterday "you'll fight another day." And I will.

But for right now, I need some time. (But not too much...Cedar Point is next September)

"Vacation" - Week 1

2011-11-18T16:16:00.001-05:00

The parents and I have finally arrived in Arizona. Last night, in fact. And before 10am this morning, had you asked me how I was feeling about race day, I wouldn't have had a very good answer. If anything, the answer would have been something close to "blah." But at 10am, we got to the race location, and as soon as I saw the first tent with "Ironman" written on it, the nerves definitely started kicking in.

But let's back track just a bit. I've been supposed to be enjoying time off from work the past week, and I was looking forward to having some time off work, and expected to be bored out of my mind sitting around my parents house. But I was back home, and was able to see friends that I get to see once a year, so my time was kept quite busy. In fact, I couldn't believe it's already time for me to be in Arizona.

Vacation actually started off with a wedding, where the other original member of the singles girls club got married, leaving me on my own in that particular club. The wedding was lovely. I was the only single person in attendance above the age of 25. And despite the best efforts of the bride, I didn't actually catch the bouquet. Whew, dodged a bullet on that one.

So...hanging out with my BFF...awesome. We ate at the greasy spoon that we grew up loving, despite the fact that they DIDN'T have the cole slaw we so desperately love. Perused Kohl's. And got smoothies from the ridiculously awesome, hipster coffee shop that is admittedly the exception to awesome things found in Middle America.

My dad also took me 4-wheeler riding through the woods down the road (from the middle of nowhere) from our house. And the first thing I thought when I saw the trails is that it would make a ridiculously awesome trail run. So, if anyone would like a challenge, just go visit my parents.

Then lunch with the girls from college, dinner with my old roommate from DC, and only one teensy, tiny day where I got to stay in my pj's until 2pm. I'm slightly disappointed with that fact, but am happy that I was able to see so many people that I only get to see once a year.

And now we're in Arizona. Prepping for Ironman Arizona.

I checked in this morning, got my packet, etc. And I perused the Ironman Store. I'm typically pretty superstitious about not buying anything before the big race that says anything to do with actually doing the race, or finishing the race. But I broke that today. They have this shirt, where they created the M-dot out of all the participants name. And it's pretty awesome. So, I bought it. And let's face it, my superstition hasn't really gotten me too far in the past, so perhaps, the mere fact that I bought something with the stupid races name on it might give me the motivation to actually, you know, finish. (I did, however, almost buy my niece a shirt that said "Support Team" on it, with the "m" of team being the m-dot...I haven't yet, but plan to. And I think my brother and sister-in-law may appreciate that over the shirt that says "When I Grow Up I Want to be an Ironman.")

I have to say, I did have a few, not so brief, moments while at the expo today...where I was wondering what the hell I was doing there. I totally don't fit in. I was feeling a little self-conscious about not really looking like an Ironman. Or at least nothing like the people standing around me do.

This is definitely a unique experience. You sign away the rights to your life (basically). You hand over the most expensive possession that you own to complete strangers. And you make your loved ones stand around waiting for you for an entire day. And they willing do this because they love you. But beyond that, you're the rock star. You're the one that the day is all about. The little bracelet on your wrist, that you will no doubt wear for weeks after the race is actually over, is status. You are the Ironman to be. You've been training for this day for a year. And now the day is finally here (almost). People cater to your needs, and give you anything you want or need. The thought, well, it just makes me pause.

But I guess it's a little too late to turn back now, so it appears that I'll be racing on Sunday. Then maybe I'll be able to enjoy the second week of my vacation.

It's On, Baby

2011-11-10T12:59:00.000-05:00

The countdown, that is.

10 days. 10 teeny, tiny days.

And it's been a crazy week. Ok, it's been a crazy 6 months, but the past 2 weeks have been ridiculous. A week ago, I realized that I was editing a cheering guide and compiling a participant list for a race that I'm not even doing...which...if I do say so myself, turned into 64 pages of awesomeness. I haven't been able to completely reign in Ed's stream of consciousness writing style yet, but there are only so many hours in the day, and I'm no miracle worker. But beyond that, I've taken the lead on planning our work Holiday Party. Which has made me want to add "Cat Wrangler" to my job description, if not just completely replacing my job title with that heading. Oh yeah...and I'm still working full time, training for an Ironman, and doing an added amount of stretching/strength training/PT.

As if that weren't enough to make a person go insane, or just pass out with exhaustion...something was...off. And had been for a while...about 4 weeks to be exact. If you'll recall, that's the time where I got hurt, and couldn't work out as much. For a while, I thought that was the cause. I was tired all the time, I was in a bad mood, or if I wasn't in a bad mood, I just didn't feel like myself. I didn't feel like doing anything. There were days were just laying on the couch seemed like the only thing my body was physically capable of doing.

Some might say that such a break was well warranted. And they would probably be right. But it just wasn't...me.

3 days ago, I had a breaking point. On Sunday, I didn't do anything. I was a hermit, and I laid on the couch and did absolutely nothing all day long. On Monday, I knew I hadn't slept well the night before (we'll get to that in a bit) but I was exhausted all day long. Extremely exhausted. To the point where I was neurotically searching online for possible causes for such extreme fatigue. Yes, it's also slightly hypochondria-ish. But something was wrong. I went home Monday evening, and again, did nothing. I laid on the couch for about an hour, and then went to bed. At 6:30pm. 10 and a half hours later, I wake up, and I have an epiphany. In all of my research, one of the causes always listed was a reaction to medicine. Do we remember what also happened a month ago? I got put on new asthma medicine. So I look up possible side effects. DING DING DING!!! We have a winner. Possible side effects: Adrenal Fatigue, Extreme tiredness, depression. It wasn't a medicine I was supposed to be on for a long period of time, just long enough to get my lungs opened up, so I immediately stopped taking the medicine. And guess what...immediately I started feeling better. So now, 3 days post medicine, things are starting to feel normal again. In fact, yesterday afternoon, I was hyper. And I'd only had 2 cups of coffee yesterday. And I was hyper. It was a wonderful feeling. I'm still tired, but back to a much more normal level of tiredness. And I can function, which is...you know...kind of important :)

After I stopped taking the meds, and went back to normal human being-ish-ness, I actually had a conversation about what's been going on with me, and my friends are so nice and put up with me. We even talked about some of my reactions lately. And they even noticed changes in my personality with how I reacted to a few things. Not that my reaction was abnormal, but how...extreme...was abnormal. So, hopefully all of that has now stopped, and the normal, happy, hyperactive, refusing to lay on the couch me has returned.

Now it's time to talk about freaking out.

History tells us that I have horrible race jitters. I get nervous, I get cranky, and I'm not pleasant to deal with. But I've never had nightmares before. Sunday evening saw a panic attack where I was concerned about not making the swim cut off. Tuesday morning, I did some math, my *favorite* thing to do, and I'm more calm. I now know that even if I swim my slowest average pace, I'll beat the swim cut off, with time to spare. Barring any other unforeseen misadventure. So, I was much more calm.

Last night, or rather, 1:30am, I woke up because there was some weird, random, very loud ringing going on around my apartment. I have no idea what it was, but it sounded like some type of alarm. It kept me up for a while, and somehow I managed to drift back to sleep. But the craziness brought about a very strange...dream...nightmare...whatever you want to call it. The alarm (in my dream) prompted me to leave my apartment, and when I got back to my apartment, the Building Engineer in my building was in my apartment, had my bed out in the hallway, and was cleaning up in my apartment. Confused about why my bed was in the hallway, I go in, and ask what happened. Apparently, right after I left, the radiator in my apartment blew up, wreaking havoc in my apartment. And it broke Cedric (my bike) in half. I was distraught. My bike is getting picked up tomorrow...what am I to do??? The Building Engineer tells me not to worry, I have time tomorrow to go get a new bike. I'm not sure who was paying for the bike, or where I was going, but it could happen. Then I was distraught that I would have to race IMAZ on a brand new bike. Oh no!

The dream basically ended there. Or, at least, that part of the dream. My brother and sis-in-law, I'm sure, will be happy to hear that the rest of the dream was about visiting them...as they're about to have twins. And that's not true (to my knowledge).

So, anyway...we have the swim freak out covered. We now have the bike freak out covered. I'm just wondering what my convoluted brain is going to come up with to make me freak out about the run. I've never freaked out about running before, so this could potentially be quite hilarious.

And, despite the fright that Cedric's demise could potentially bring about, my dream has actually amused me. I've been laughing about it all morning. It's just such a ridiculous prospect, that you just have to laugh.

So, to that, I say...bring it on, baby.

At This Moment...

2011-11-07T09:16:00.000-05:00

...I agree with everyone that ever thought I was crazy for wanting to do an Ironman.

I admit it. I'm a worrier. I come from a long line of worriers. So, at least I come by it honestly. In the past, though not a common occurrence, I have been known to wake up in the middle of the night, so worried about some random topic, I can't get back to sleep. It could be money, work, anything. Then, in the morning, it's normally all better.

Last night, I didn't even have the opportunity to get to sleep before the worry started. Out of no where, I suddenly started freaking out about not making the swim cut off in Arizona. I tried to calm myself down, think the logical things about my swimming ability. That even if I maintain my current, slow pace, I would still make the cut off. I tried thinking about other things. And for well over an hour, not much worked. Though, at one point, I did drift off, only to suddenly be awake, grabbing at my chest, because my heart was racing so much, I feared it was going to jump out of my chest. I feared that even though I know swimming is my weak spot, I hadn't done enough practice, and that I won't get enough long swims in, and even though I've done long swims, it's not the actual distance...blah blah blah crazy talk.

There is a part of me that fears starting, because there is a chance, because there is always a chance, that I will not finish. And after the year that I've had, I'm not sure that I could handle another failure. And I know that isn't the right attitude. I know that starting is half the battle. Getting to the start line is an accomplishment that many people don't even try. And though the race results from this year might not show it, I know that there is a lot of strength, and stubbornness within me. I know that if I get my face in the water, I can finish the swim. I know that if I get out of the water, I can get on my bike. I know that if I get off my bike, I can run or walk or crawl to the finish line.

So, at this moment there is a war going on in my head between the logical side, and the illogical. The logical side tells me that this is going to hurt no matter what, and it's going to hurt for everyone. The logical side tells me that I have done the training, and that our training plans do a lot more than many others do, so even if I have been on the injured reserved list for a month, I should still be fine. The logical side tells me that it's better to get to the starting line healthy, than to have worried about getting all of the miles in. The illogical side just tells me that I'm batshit crazy, and there's a good possibility that I'll die.

I think above anything else, I'm afraid of letting myself down. And I'm really afraid of letting my family and friends down.

I accidentally stumbled across being able to do this sport. I'd heard of it, but I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would ever be able to do it. I probably first heard about Ironman when I was 8 years old. Of course, the race I heard about was Kona. And at that point, I was the little kid who was overweight, and wasn't active, and I basically remained that way for nearly 20 years after that. But there was always a part of me that thought doing an Ironman was the ultimate badass thing to do. It was an unrealistic goal, one that I didn't worry too much about because until 2 years ago, there was no chance in hell I'd ever do one.

And then I met Ed, and the rest of the Team Z crazy's. And they actually made me think that this might actually be possible. Many times over the past year I have thought about, and realized, that I'm living out a life long dream. And then I immediately stopped thinking about it because it freaked me out. It's kind of a huge thing to realize that you're living out something you've been dreaming about since you were a little kid. And I think that, above anything else, is making me freak out even more. Can't this just remain a dream, and never have to worry about it becoming a reality. Maybe say...you know...one day I'll do this?

No...no it can't. Dreams are made to be realized, and one way or another, 13 days from now, or 10 months from now...it must come true. That one day is coming, and it's coming quickly. I'm absolutely scared out of my mind. And there are a multitude of things that could go wrong, in the days leading up to it, and during the race itself.

But 1, just one thing has to go right, and it will change my life forever. I have to trust in myself, and trust in the training, and beyond anything else...just keep moving forward.

So in the mean time, forgive the wild rantings of a crazy woman...

The Magical Qualities of Snow

2011-10-29T14:59:00.001-04:00

I admit it. I hate cold weather. I hate being cold. And mother nature should allow us one, and only one, good dumping of snow. And then it should promptly go back to being 65-70 degrees. It's snowing today. And it's October. October is not for snow. October is for sweaters being pulled out of storage, and leaves turning the most brilliant oranges and reds you could imagine. But no, it's definitely snowing today.

There is something about taking a walk in snow. There is some magical quality to it. Even now, as I'm back home in my mostly warm apartment, defrosting my icy digits, I have a subtle smile on my face.

There is something about taking a walk in snow that takes me back to my childhood. As a youngster, I loved playing in snow. And for me, sledding was not hurling down a hill as fast as a toboggan could carry me. Sledding was being pulled behind a 4-wheeler by my dad. I, of course, was the child who would tip the sled from side to side, almost to the point I would topple over the side, but never quite going over. And then my brother would ultimately let go of my sled, and I would go careening through the snow, bounce back up, and demand to do it again.

There is something about taking a walk in the snow that makes me want to tip my face upward, and let the snow smack me in the face. And spread my arms and twirl until I'm so dizzy I immediately fall over. It makes me not want to take life so seriously.

It makes me have a sweet smile on my face, one that invites cute, old men to tip their hats to me, and say good day to you. And makes me say good day to you right back.

It makes me think of sitting in my parents living room, with the fire roaring, in my plaid old man pajamas, drinking hot cider, eat apple crumble, while reading a book. Of snow days as a child, where you stayed up late the night before, measuring how much snow had already fallen, begging your parents to stay up late because they MUST cancel school the next day. Then waking up to find that it wasn't just a dream. You got an extra day away from classes, and had no responsibilities, and could laugh, and play, and nap without guilt. Because you got a snow day.

The one thing I do love about cold weather...the one and only thing...is the magical quality of snow.

Weight Waiting

2011-10-26T14:31:00.000-04:00

I had a goal. A goal that I am going to fail miserably at. For now. My goal was to cross the finish line at IMAZ weighing 150 pounds. You may not have seen me lately, but those that have will tell you I am no where close to that goal. And now that we are *gulp* 25 days away from the start line, my goal is impossible to attain. And at some point, I accepted that it was more healthy (and reasonable) for me to stop attempting to lose weight, and fuel my body properly for Ironman training instead.

It's not like the inability to lose weight while training for an Ironman is a new concept for me. It's something I've heard many, many times before (thanks Mary!). The general consensus is that if you want to lose weight, do it before you start the build cycles for Ironman. So, I went straight to Ironman training from marathon training, and though it's not as impossible, it's still not the easiest thing to lose weight while marathon training. And I realized earlier today that for the past 2 years I've been doing a lot of long distance training, or I've been sick for 2 months and laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing. Not a great combination. And I've definitely been more focused (I said more, not completely) on training my body than about that pesky little (or not so little) number on the scale. And since Ironman training, I've been waiting to be able to lose more weight.

So, where to go from here? Well, I've been frustrated and cranky lately...for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that I haven't been able to work out as much because I'm supposed to rest my swollen tendons so I can be healthy for the start line. And now taper is starting. And at last check, I have no longer been able to maintain the weight that I have been holding steady at for the past 4-5 months. So there is a new goal to work toward! Goals are good. Plans are good. I can work with this.

Post Arizona, I probably have until...March-ish where I'm not going to be focusing on long distance stuff. At least that's the month I have in mind for Ironman build to start up again (it might be April). That's a good 4-5 months "off." As I've said in previous posts, I have a few winter goals to accomplish, and one of them is losing those pesky extra pounds. I have no intention of becoming a waif, and at one point in my life, said that if I ever weighed less than 150 pounds, I would immediately eat a massive burger, and that's still a fairly accurate statement. And I think I'm fairly safe in this statement. If you've paid any attention whatsoever to my bone structure (because I know it's the cat's meow to look at) I'll never even be able to be as thin as *enter the name of current anorexic looking celebrity*. I want to look like a normal human being.

So, what am I going to do about it? I re-joined Weight Watchers today. I know, we're still before IMAZ. And the goal is not to go crazy trying to lose a ton of weight in the next 25 days. If I lose the 3ish that I've gained in the past couple of weeks, I'll be ok. And then after AZ, really kick things up and make a more concentrated effort on actually losing weight, while attempting to maintain a fraction of the muscle that I've gained in the past 6 months.

Personally, I'm a big fan of Weight Watchers. It's worked for me in the past. It helped take me from this:

to what we see today, which is this (please for give the fact that I look like a hot mess, I need to do laundry):

Huge difference between the 2. I know. Most probably wouldn't even think that they're the same person. And in some respects, they aren't. Some may look at the bottom photo and think that I look just fine, especially compared to where I've been. But I don't want to look just fine...I want to look fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Sorry...I had to do it :) But it's not for anyone else that I want to do this. It's for me, my health, my speed, and the fact that I'm going to have to buy a new wardrobe anyway, it might as well be a smaller size.

So, over the next few months, I'll keep you updated on the progress. Not that that will be all I talk about...because I have way more than that running through my head, but it will help keep me honest, and help keep me motivated. And if you see me with cookie in hand, I give you permission to take it away from me. I may not be able to promise you'll come back with all of your fingers. But know at the end of the day, I will be grateful for your effort.

The 30 Day Countdown

2011-10-21T16:28:00.000-04:00

It's officially begun. 30 days until Ironman Arizona. It's getting close. And I have no idea how to pack for 3 weeks, in which I will be attending a wedding, hanging out with family in multiple locations, completing an Ironman, and working. Yeah...the Ironman is going to be my "rest day."

So instead of packing, or thinking about packing, or anything resembling the word packing...let's discuss a few other points.

Taking a deep breathe.

I am grateful for every day that I am able to take a deep breathe. There have been far too many days in my life that I have not been able to, including very recently. Trying to ride your bike while not being able to take more than a shallow breathe moves into the category of dangerous. Yet I did it. And then promptly made an appointment to visit my asthma Dr. Numbers normally make me feel better. Having very concise directions also help. So...numbers: My lung capacity is at 128% of normal, my large airway capacity is at 120%, and my small airway capacity is at 95% of normal. Yet I have been having some serious issues breathing lately. It's not really the capacity that causes asthma, though it typically helps, it's something in the airways themselves (or something very technical-ish like that). So they put me on more medicine to help clear things up. It's definitely been helping. I've been ridiculously jittery. But I can breathe. At the moment, it's a trade off I'm willing to accept.

I have bad balance.

You can pick your jaw up off the floor, because I'm sure you're all shocked that a klutz such as me would have poor balance. But that's what the Physical Therapist told me. So...let's take a step back, so we can have a better understanding of this topic. I did not grow up an athlete. In fact, I wouldn't have even considered myself an athlete until less than 3 years ago when I started running. So let's just say the knowledge behind being an athlete was also not there. And I've learned a lot. I could talk bike components until I'm blue in the face. Nutrition? I'm pretty much there. The fact that there are about a million ways to incorrectly train the muscles in your body and only a very select few that actually work...well...NOW I know. So, long story short, there are many things to work on. Many things that have resulted in my knees being in pain. And that I can work around until AZ, and then seriously fix after.

Winter.

I hate winter. I hate being cold. And I'm almost as much of a wuss when it comes to being cold as Ed. But I'm really excited about this winter. 3 winters ago, I just started running. And for the past 2 winters, I have trained for a marathon, then directly into triathlon season with no break. Well...this year...I get one! I'm not running an early year marathon...so I get to focus on something else than running 20 miles in 25 degree weather. Woohoo! And I'm already creating a list of stuff to do.

Lost the extra 30-35 pounds I didn't get shed before Ironman training kicked in. Ok, so I would really be happy with losing 25 and keeping most of the muscle I currently have.
Work on swimming. Let's just say, I'm not a natural swimmer. And I need some work.
Strength training/flexibility. Let's work on those stability muscles! Who knows...maybe this time next year, I won't be such a klutz! Hey...we can all dream...
Use my holiday bonus to sign up for Cedar Point. Yup. I said it. I'm 99% sure I'm doing it.

So, at this point, I feel like the goal for IMAZ is to just...survive. And finish before midnight. With no broken bones. Then, hopefully next year, I'll actually...well...not be competitive...because that's just never going to happen. But...maybe, just maybe...I won't suck so badly at this sport that I love.

Battered, Bruised and Bloody

2011-10-13T13:12:00.000-04:00

I am a klutz. Please, allow me to clarify. I am a HUGE klutz. Not a day goes by where I do not damage my body in some way, shape, or form. Not all klutziness results in major damage, in fact, it rarely does. But I often look at my arms, legs, feet, fingers, or any other body part and ask "huh, where did THAT bruise come from?"

And this week has been no different. Well, maybe different in the fact that my klutziness has been taken to an even higher level. It all started with taking my bike into transition Saturday morning. As I was rolling Cedric through the grass, a stick (a rather large and pointy stick) got caught in my pedals, and I, of course, didn't realize this. This caused a bruise and scratch on the top of my left foot. Not exactly something that I prefer to happen before a "race," but I also knew that it wasn't major enough to cause problems. And it didn't.

Fortunately for my mental well being, I had already went into the weekend as this was just training. But in the back of my head, I really wanted to do well, and at the very least, finish. I didn't. It's not something I'm completely ready to talk about, but long story short, I had to listen to my body, and make the decision that the race on November 20, 2011 was much more important that last weekend. Due to a combination of many insignificant factors, that combined create a significant problem, I had a huge problem. That problem being my knees. And the pain that they were in. They have been getting achy and sore recently, which for most of the time, I wrote off to the fact that I am training for an Ironman, and the general battery that your body goes through. I can't say that anymore. So, for the first time since I've been an athlete, I now have an appointment tomorrow with a Sports Medicine Dr. Growing up, I never imagined that I would have to visit a Sports Medicine Dr, but here I am. And I keep remembering a comment Ed made one of the first times I met him, "It's not *if* you get hurt, it's *when*."

After I got back to the park on Saturday, I noticed I had a nice, purple bruise on the knuckle of my ring finger on my left hand. No clue where it came from. But it's mostly gone away now.

Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.

Let's skip ahead to Tuesday evening. I had to stay late at work for a conference call that left me and a co-worker feeling like we had just went through a war. It was crazy, I was dazed. I was walking out of the metro station, across a brick sidewalk, and caught my toe on a loose brick, and down I went. Landing on the knee that has been in the most pain. I actually find this to be a little fortunate, because it was not, now, both of my knees that were in quite a bit of pain. I hobbled home, refused to cry about it, and then was most upset that it ruined the lovely pedicure I had given myself.

Ice. Pain killers. Repeat.

As I hobbled around my office the next day, my co-workers all showed a great deal of concern for why I was walking around like a 90 year old woman. I explained. Assured them that I was fine. And kept hobbling around. At one point, within minutes of one another, I hit the sore, swollen knee on the underneath side of my desk twice, causing me to whimper and my neighbors to ask if I was ok.

Also, at some point, I realized that I had also scraped the top of my right foot in the fall (matching feet now) and that the dark spot on the back of my left knee was NOT actually residual grease from my bike cleaning, it was, in fact, a bruise as well. Again, no clue where it came from.

Think I've been through enough this week? You would be wrong. As I was making my lunch this morning, I got the bowl of rice I had made out of the microwave. And promptly dropped it. Shattering the bowl, and sending glass shrapnel all over floor. I was barefoot. And now bleeding (but fortunately, not that much).

Ice. Pain Killers. Bandaid. Repeat.

Yes, I do realize that I should be wearing bubble wrap body armor.

I had been doing quite a good job of feeling sorry for myself, and also being incredibly scared about what the issue with my knees actually is. I'm 99% certain it's tendonitis. But I'm not a Dr, so I'm still getting them checked out. But if that is the problem, it is fixable. Comparatively easily. It's not easy for me to just sit still, and it's even more difficult for me to admit that I'm hurt or sick. Combine the 2, and I've been a peach to be around all week. Even though it's recovery week, and I'm hurt, and I had every legitimate reasons to sit on my couch and do nothing, last night, I HAD to do something. So I put on my cycling clothes, and went for an easy spin. My knees were a little sore, but not actually that bad. I made sure to stretch well afterward, and I felt much better afterward. And if anything, I actually think spinning helped my knees. I'm actually able to walk around like a normal human being today.

Still icing. Still taking pain killers. Still repeating.

With Ironman Arizona quickly approaching, I'm starting to get very nervous. I'm nervous about the race, I'm nervous about what my body is going through, and whether or not I'll actually be able to do this, and I'm starting to think past November 20. The 2 weekends before had been amazing highs that I had been relishing in. I had truly enjoyed the 20 mile bike ride over the last recovery weekend, and started to actually realize that riding my bike could be fun. And then finishing my 110 mile bike ride, and running for 2:45 was such a rush, and I was finally starting to feel confident with my preparation. Then it all came crashing down. I think what I've been through in the past 3 weeks is a clear definition of the highs and lows that are often natural with this sport. Some days are truly amazing, and some days, you get your ass handed to you in a sling. You hope for the best, be prepared for the worst, and no matter what, you keep moving forward.

One of the things that I love most about the sport of triathlon is that you don't ever have to look very hard to find amazing stories of inspiration. Today, one story has been a focus more than anything else. It is the story of Chrisse Wellington winning her 4th world championship last weekend. And what a story it is. I won't be able to do it justice, so please read the full story here. Or better yet, visit her blog.

Reading about her injuries, combined with the amazing performance she was able to produce to win Saturday's race, makes my bumps and bruises seem insignificant. But it also gives me an incredible amount of respect, not just for Chrissie and her amazing performance, but also for our minds and bodies. It makes me think that come race day, no matter what obstacle I come across, I will be able to push past it, survive, and finish. In the mean time, I will prepare my body in the best way that I possibly can. Getting plenty of sleep, following Drs orders (whatever they may give me tomorrow) do the training that I can, keep reminding myself to trust the training, and to picture myself crossing the finish line, looking strong and confident on November 20.

8 Years From Now...

2011-10-11T19:57:00.000-04:00

8 years from now, when I get married. Not an uncommon statement for me to make. So, first, a little background into where this came from. About 6 years ago, maybe a little more, I had just gotten out of a horrible long term relationship. And of course, I was helping several of my close friends plan their weddings. With nothing in my personal life to look forward to, and the typical wedding talk about what you would want in your own wedding (as girls tend to do), I began using the statement "well, 8 years from now when I get married, I would do...this."

One point to note, even though this started 6 years ago, I still say "8 years from now..." The time frame never decreases. Marriage is always 8 years away. (And because most of those couples now have children...children are now 12 years away)

So, what, one might ask, is on the list? Well...I, of course, am not planning my wedding. Nor do I have someone to plan it with...so I don't have a lot of specifics about what my wedding day will actually look like...8 years from now. I do, however, have a list of stuff that I don't want.

I will not wear a poofy dress. Just...no. I would look ridiculous.
I do not want a huge wedding where I invite every single person I've ever met to attend and feel obligated to buy a gift. I would much rather have the people that really matter there.
I do not want the words "Shooting Complex" to appear on my wedding invitations. I don't care how nice of a banquet center it is. No thank you.
I also do not want to host my wedding at a Sleep Inn. I believe my bff said it best. "Ew."

So...the Sleep Inn thing...I recently stayed at one for a race weekend, and I had noticed some decorations that looked a little wedding-esque sitting about while we were there. Thinking to myself "surely not." But we got back to the hotel Saturday evening, and sure enough, there was a rockin' wedding going on. And to top that off...there was also a young girl and her mother talking to the staff about hosting a wedding there. Oh my.

I don't know what it has been lately...perhaps with everything else on my plate lately...I figure why not add one more. But I've been thinking a lot about planning a wedding. It's been a while since I've had to help a friend plan one. And at this point, most of my friends already are married. So I guess the next one to plan will probably be my own. And besides...weddings are fun...right? And I probably have planned enough that I could plan my own in my sleep. (Please remind me of this statement 8 years from now when I actually am planning my wedding, and I'm so stressed out that I want to pull my hair out.) Don't worry...to any potential mates out there possibly reading this...I am not so eager to get married right now that I'll hit you over the head with a frying pan and drag you to the justice of the peace and force you to marry me. I do still realize it requires a little more effort than that. And that it won't happen with just anyone. I'm not THAT girl :)

So...8 years from now...

Clicking "Submit"

2011-10-07T05:55:00.000-04:00

Yesterday morning, I decided it was now or never. I found the correct website. Entered all of the pertinent information. Gave them my credit card number, and my hand shakily hovered about the mouse of my computer, as I agreed to whatever requirements they might have (which I often believe may include signing away the life of your future children to some unknown lord among men from a country never heard from before, and no one would ever realize it...because who actually reads those things?) and I clicked submit. Error! Oh...why, yes, I am left handed. Submit. Confirmation page.

I sat there for a moment, thinking about what I had just done, what I had just signed up for. My hands were shaking. My heart was palpitating. And I couldn't sit still.

But, unlike normal, I honestly did not have the "I'm crazy, and this is a really bad idea" thought like I normally do in situations like this. Perhaps, it's because I didn't sign up for a race this time. What I am now at the beginning of is a journey and test of endurance like none I've ever encountered before. Yes, still not a race. I signed up to take the LSAT exam on December 3.

As with most things in my life, this was not done on a whim. Much thought had already been put into signing up. And I've already started preparing to take it. But there is that hollow, shaking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you actually have a date, time and location. But, to me, I have a goal date. Must be completed by: date. As with endurance sports, having that date is paramount. It's something to look forward to, it's a goal that must be reached. You must do the preparation to get across the finish line. The point that I've already been enjoying studying for it makes it easier to think that I'm going to stick with it. Who would have ever thought that one could be more excited to pick up an LSAT prep book, and read about deciphering logic problems than a novel. Well...I guess I'm just a nerd like that.

This action has come toward the end of a week when I have been thinking a lot about action. Doing something. Getting off the couch and participating in life as opposed to just talking about doing something. Don't get me wrong, I have been just as bad in the past about constantly talking about doing something, but then no action is ever taken. But really, in looking at things, it's been a while since I can recall something like that. I like action. I like talking about doing things, but I like actually doing them better. I understand that life circumstances sometimes get in the way, I've had a few goals of mine derailed this year because of that. But I know that at some point, I will make them happen, one way or another.

One of the things that has spawned such thoughts this week is thinking about a couple of friends of mine. One who constantly talks about doing things. One of those "I'm going to do this with you" types. And guess what? We never have done any of those things. There's been a long list. Berry picking, or a party at an embassy, just to name a couple. And beyond that, he's also one to talk about personal goals, would set them, then never accomplish them. And, as a friend, it's frustrating to sit by and watch something like that happening. Perhaps that's one of the reasons we are no longer as close as we once were. The other friend I mentioned is relatively new in my life, so I'm not sure if this pattern is there or not. But I started to see a couple of things. In an effort to communicate better, I told him what my annoyance was. It didn't go over so well (I think my point went over his head a bit). But if these things never happen, then what is the point of talking about them in the first place???

Maybe, as I get older, I have realized that I need to do something with my life. Make my life meaningful. Spend time with the people that really matter to me. Have fun, and enjoy life. Maybe part of what has made me have such strong feelings has been the surreal fact that I'm in the middle of accomplishing one of my life long goals. And I don't want other people to miss out on the possibility of doing something that would be equally as amazing to them.

So...next time you think about doing something, or talk about doing something...I urge you...DO IT!! You won't be sorry.

I'm having a week

2011-10-05T11:54:00.000-04:00

I'm not having a bad week, though I'm not having a particularly bad week either. Which after the stress that the past couple of weeks, and the highs of last weekend, I'm ok with where the week is sitting for me. And for some reason, I often find times like this most hard to write about. But I'm willing to give it a try. Sometimes bullet/number lists are easier...so here goes.

1) Though I'm not having a bad week, people around me are. I'm kept apprised of the situation. But I'm not being asked to do anything. Which can be both frustrating, and, at the same time, relieving.

2) I'm studying for the LSAT. News to, probably, most people. I haven't talked about it with too many people, mainly because it's one of those things that may, at the end of the day, week, month, year not end up working out. But there it is. I want to go to Law School. I have since I was a kid, but for a long time, I didn't think I had it in me to do well. But it's never too late to try, so, hopefully a year from now, I will just be starting a brand new adventure in my life. And this is also the number one reason I can't decide about what to train for next year. IF I do an Iron distance race next year, it would be Cedar Point, there is no question there. But it's also in the middle of September, which would be directly after I would start school (hopefully). And though I have an idea of where I would end up, I'm not 100% sure of where that is going to be yet. So I can't decide what to do.

3) We are now under 50 days until Ironman Arizona. I don't know the specific number of days, mainly because knowing the specific number of days freaks me out a little. So if you know, please don't tell me. Unless I specifically ask :) But after this past weekends training, I started feeling like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. And it also had me feeling like there is still a ton that I need to do yet. Fortunately, I tend to be OCD about making lists, and I also have friends that have already done at least one Ironman...and they, too, are uber organized. And they're willing to share, and help me out. So, starting early, making lists, all helps me put things in perspective, and gives me focus, instead of floundering about for what to do. This, I can do.

4) I'm not sure what else to add here. Training is going ok. I can walk just fine after the torture I put my body through last weekend. I'm looking forward to the torture I'm going to be putting my body through this coming weekend. And all in all, things are going ok. Weird...

How an Ironman in Training Celebrates Turning 30

2011-10-02T20:01:00.000-04:00

As I sit here on my couch, with my legs propped up, I have a moment to reflect on how perfect this weekends activities could not have been more perfect of a celebration.

I suppose the celebration started on Thursday evening, with swimming 2 miles for the first time. I had went into the swim planning on swimming at least 2000m, because that's what I had swam on Tuesday, and it felt really good. I get into the swim, and it just felt amazing. So I decide to go for my longest swim ever. Previously, my longest swim had been 2400m, so I was going to go for 2500. I know...what a way to blow out a record swim distance. But I get to 2350, and I'm feeling really good. And I start having a thought about hitting 2 miles. And I'm not sure if I can do it or not. But I was feeling really good, so I went for it. I cramped a little...but I finished, and it felt great.

Then it was on to dinner with friends, and proceeded to have a fantastic time.

I took Friday off work because I really wanted to clean my apartment, and do laundry, and sleep in and drink coffee and read. Well...I slept in, I drank coffee, and I did laundry, and watched TV. And I slept some more. So I didn't get nearly as much accomplished as I had hoped, but I think the rest was much needed. And then the evening was finished with dinner with some amazing friends, who were so gracious to work my training schedule into celebrating. I got to bed relatively early, all in preparation for the next days training activities.

So I wake up early on Saturday morning. Sleepily pack my gear, and get it loaded into my rental car. I started driving off to Easton. Though barely awake, I didn't get lost...which is excellent. I get ready to start riding, and am actually looking forward to riding 110 miles. I know, I'm crazy. The first 50 miles are great, fantastic, amazing. I, somehow, now love riding my bike. It was wrought with wind, and lots of time spent in aero...but it was truly a lot of fun. To say the least of a brief stop at mile 40 that was most memorable for both Misha and I. But I felt better, and continued my ride :) I stop back in the parking lot at mile 50, and refuel, and head back out for 60 more miles. Almost immediately, we were hit with a hellacious, demoralizing headwind that pretty much made all of the enjoyment I was experiencing go away. And I was pissed (there is no other better description for how I felt). More that the wind ruined the lovely bike ride I was having. I get to the turn around, finally, after several moments of having to talk myself into moving forward. So I take a moment to not be moving forward, but not too long. I start back up with Tracy, and we're moving along just fine. But after a couple of more miles, I started hurting. A lot. And I forgot my Tylenol at home. Did I mention I was half asleep as I was packing my gear? So I keep moving forward, but I've slowed waaaaaaaaaaaaay down. And fortunately Matt came up behind me at mile 85. Asked how I was doing, and suggested I get off and stretch, so I do. And eat an energy bar. And get back on my bike and keep moving forward. I request a brief stop at the Shell station...and again, we keep moving forward. I'm so glad Matt stuck with me. I might have been able to finish the entire thing without him, but he definitely made it a LOT easier. So I get back to the parking lot. And immediately ask for pain killers, and AJ hands me a bottle of Tylenol. Again, not wanting to wait too long, I head back out for those last 10 miles. And after having to wind around a side neighborhood, and the Target parking lot...my bike computer FINALLY read 110.04 miles. It's about damn time. But I finished with a HUGE smile on my face, and sheer amazement at what I had just accomplished.

And the adrenaline kicks in. And we're all bouncing off the walls. So we head over to Chick-Fil-A for some post ride grub...and we didn't completely pig out (this phenomenon will be discussed a bit later). But we did have a good time enjoying our adrenaline high. Though I'm quite surprised that some of the families surrounding us didn't request that we leave, or turn down the volume.

I totally crashed from my adrenaline high on the way home, and looking back, I'm surprised I made it. I take a quick ice bath. Choke down a bit of dinner, watch 20 minutes of TV, just so I can attempt to feel like a normal human being, and crash.

So this morning, I was scheduled for another early wake up call, where I could once again, drive over an hour to run 2 hours and 45 minutes. So off to Gunston I go. I've been using my phone for navigation lately, and it hasn't failed me yet. But never underestimate Johanna's ability to get lost. So, GPS tells me to get off at exit 166-A. I, for some reason get off at exit 166-B. And I realize immediately that this is definitely not right. So I try to get off on the first exit ramp. And wind up in some secure government facility. Fortunately, the very nice security guard didn't drag me out of my car and arrest me. He pulled over, flashed his lights, and asked where I was trying to go. I tell him my error, he politely tells me where I was (without telling me WHICH secure government facility I was at) and how to get back to where I needed to be. He follows me out, and I hope that this isn't an indicator of how the day is going to go.

I finally make it to Gunston (without any further detours) and get ready to run. There aren't as many people as I was expecting, and no one that runs my pace. So I start running, and it's not feeling so good. I take a couple of brief walk breaks, and walking feels ok...but I'm definitely not feeling so good while running. I'm getting woozy, and just want to curl up and sleep. Oh, and at this point, it starts raining, and I'm so cold I'm shivering. So I run...walk...walk...walk...run a bit more...and then start walking. I tried my hardest to keep running...but I started taking a self inventory of what's going on. Am I feeling sorry for myself? Not really...I wish I had someone to run with, but I'm not sure that would fix the situation...but it's possible it could have distracted me for a little while longer. So then I recall a "run" I had a couple of years ago...my 20 mile run for my first marathon. I'd had a rough bout of insomnia the night before, and I got the mileage in, but there was a lot of walking. And I realize that's exactly how I felt this morning. Except this time, I actually slept between 7-8 hours. So, I'm going with my body is just exhausted right now. But I kept moving forward. Jordan finally caught up to me, and told me he had an extra jacket in his car, and to head back to meet him there so I could wear that. I also choke down an energy bar. And catch up to Tracy in her pace setting walk. We make another loop...and get to see everyone else running. The warmth, the food in my stomach, and the company definitely helped. But I'm certain I'm stubborn enough I would have gotten the miles in even if I hadn't had all of those things. So the day ended with a total of 12 miles between walking and running. Yes, my legs currently hate me :)

One of the things that I've been thinking about lately is what IMAZ is going to be like. Well...not so much the actual day, per se. But what the possibilities of that day are. It is bound to be the most grueling day of my life. And also, hopefully one of the best. But there are a lot of possibilities of what can happen. Within the past week, I'm finally starting to feel like this whole thing *might* actually be possible. I know (from past experience) that I can come back from a horrible asthma attack, and continue moving forward. And also, because of that day, I know just about the worst thing that can happen in a race...but more importantly, I know that I can move past it. I know that I can ride 110 miles. And that if worst comes to worst, I can continue walking the marathon. My inner Ironman is starting to feel happy.

Ok, so now time to talk about this weird phenomenon that's been happening lately. I love food. I really, really love food. We all know this, right? Over the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that I just don't want to eat much of anything. Ever. I do eat, because I know I need the fuel. But I really don't want to. I thought it might be stress induced, but now I'm not so sure. Coffee hasn't tasted that great to me, and both yesterday and today, I didn't even finish the coffee that I made. I ate french fries yesterday at Chick-Fil-A, and they tasted great. But I had to choke down a piece of chicken last night. Literally, it grossed me out. Breakfast this morning was the same way. I forced myself to eat eggs...which I normally love. The energy bar I ate in the middle of my walk this morning...I literally almost spat it out. Again, post run, I eat one serving of french fries...and they taste great. So I eat some more. But when Ed got done grilling the meat...I was on board...thinking that the tide had turned. I could not have been more wrong. I eat a bit of chorizo. And then look down at the chicken left on my plate. I take one bite. And I'm done. I couldn't even look at it. This afternoon, I even told my mom that the mere thought of eating a cookie or a cupcake disgusted me. She got worried. I love cookies and cupcakes. And even now, I know that my stomach is hungry, and that I need to eat, because I haven't done so since around noon today. But I'm grossed out at the thought. Seriously...WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I mean, don't get me wrong, my inner anorexic is ecstatic. But this is not so good for the inner Ironman.

My honest guess is that I'm training a ridiculous amount, and my body is thrown off whack. I just hope I get some of my appetite back...eventually. Because...you know...I love food.

So...that's pretty much it. Just a low key, relaxing weekend for the birthday girl. Here's to a great year ahead of me!

Recovery Week

2011-09-26T06:12:00.000-04:00

Recovery week is now over, and looking back, I wish I had taken more time to enjoy the break from strenuous, long workouts. Ok...so I didn't do anything this past week. At all. Ok, so I worked. And I walked to and from the bus stop for work. But the only work outs I did (I think) were over the weekend. I've had an odd couple of weeks with big ups and downs...and am hoping the next couple will be on a bit more of an even keel.

Let's, for a moment, revisit one of the highs. Yesterday was a 20 mile bike ride day. To say the least, I was NOT looking forward to this ride. I wanted to stay in bed, and sleep late, and drink coffee. And the last thing I ever wanted to do, was get out on that gray, disgusting looking morning and ride my bike. But I got kidnapped...so I really didn't have much of a choice. And on the way to Riley's Lock, especially as we were getting much closer, I started getting really nervous. The pavement was really wet in some places due to recent rain, and there were some decent hills. So, let's put this in perspective. I hadn't ridden on hills that big in wet conditions since I wrecked 2 years ago. Yes, I've been avoiding situations like that like the plague.

So, we get there, get ready to go. And as I'm trying to clean my sunglasses...they literally fall apart in my hands. Awesome! I hope this isn't an indication of how the rest of the day is going to go. I try to put them back together, only to realize that they were finally dead. (Perhaps now is a good time to get those Tifosi's I've been dreaming about???)

But it isn't THAT sunny out...so I should be ok...I was just hoping my eyes wouldn't dry out too much. And they didn't. (whew).

As we're all standing around, waiting to get started...we are all comparing how far we're riding that morning. I have to say...it was very nice to be in the shortest group that morning. As everyone else looked on the Ironman group in jealousy (oh come on now, you know it's true) that we were only riding 20 miles.

So we get started...and I am not having any fun. There's a lot of climbing to do...which normally is fine with me...but these hills, combined with my lack of a decent attitude about the ride...did not make for a fun start. And everyone that had been riding in front of me were no longer in site. Awesome.

I then get passed by a car, and instead of pulling over far enough to get around me, the jerk completely sprayed me. Even more fantastic. At least it wasn't cold yesterday.

So...you might, now, be thinking "isn't this supposed to be one of the highlights?" Yes, yes it is. I'm getting to that part. So...for about the first 8 miles or so, I just kept moving forward, not really having any fun...but starting to get a little more comfortable with the conditions. There was one moment about 4 miles in where I briefly, and not very seriously, considered just going back to the parking lot. But I knew that I needed to finish my ride to regain some of my confidence in these conditions. So I kept moving forward.

And wouldn't you know, just as I rounded the bend to climb Mt. Nebo...I look up...and am shocked. I see people! I had caught up with people! Woohoo!! Ok, so some of them had stopped...but still...people! So I continue to climb, and climb, and descend, and climb (and I passed a couple of people!)...and somewhere around mile 14...something unreal happened. I started having a lot of fun. I actually think it was about this point that I actually got warmed up...so things definitely started looking up. I had caught up to a couple of other girls, and ended up riding with them the rest of the way. But one of my big victories for the ride was that I started to get less tentative while riding downhill. To the point I really started having fun with some of them, and getting into a high gear, and pedaling, pedaling, pedaling and going faster, faster, faster. It was fun :) I know...I just said I enjoyed going down a hill. Fast. I never thought I would actually say those words.

And before I knew it, I was back in the parking lot...done. Man...I *just* started having a good time. And it's over already???

This ride actually made me think back a couple of years, when an 18 mile bike ride was all I could do before my body would say "excuse me...you're done now" and would politely shut down. Because I got back after 20, knowing that my legs (and the rest of my body) could do a looooooooooot more than 20 miles. But it was fun to stop after 20...because then I could actually go home...and go to a baseball game! Woohoo! Plans that don't involve training!!

So, while before yesterday's ride, though I love Cecric...I really wasn't looking forward to riding him ever again. Or putting on my running shoes. But now...I can't wait for next weekends 110 mile bike ride and 18 mile run! Ok, so maybe I can't wait until they're over. But being reminded of the progress I've made, and know that I will continue to make, doesn't make the decision not to do an Ironman next year any easier. I still haven't officially given up on the idea...but I think I'm leaning towards not doing it. With some very longing glances towards signing up for Cedar Point. But then again...the decision isn't final...so really anything could happen.

Now, on to this week...starting off with a run!

In Lieu of Vacation

2011-09-20T06:09:00.000-04:00

I had had a goal of taking a vacation this year that didn't involve either a race or visiting family. I don't actually remember the last time this happened. But, life circumstances have gotten in the way and it's not going to be possible this year.

As I was laying in bed this morning, once again unwilling to get up, because I was exhausted...I started thinking about the plans I've made for recovery weekend and what I would do with an extra day off. At the moment, it looks like I won't be spending much time at home this weekend...which is fine...because all of the stuff that I'm doing are things that I am really looking forward to. Happy Hour with friends, recovery run, volunteering at a race, and a baseball game on Sunday.

So...what would I do with this extra day off? It would have to start with "sleeping in" and drinking coffee. And then all of the things I've been wanting to do to my apartment that I haven't had time for. I have a ridiculously tiny apartment, and I've started re-arranging some of my furniture, but there are a few things that I just don't have time for after work. Like cleaning out my closets. And mopping my floor. And doing laundry.

Now, don't get me wrong...I realize that this is, in no way equal to taking an actual vacation. But at the same time, I have taken enough business trips lately that I have spent more than enough time in a hotel room, eating crappy food...that it wouldn't really be fun anyway.

So, now I just need to decide what day I'm taking off. So I can clean. I feel so...adult. And boring.

Catatonic vs. Inner Strength

2011-09-17T18:57:00.000-04:00

First of all, exciting news. I finished my first century ride today!! :):):) If I had any energy left, I would do a happy dance. For now, I'll have to settle for a celebratory nap on my couch.

In the middle of this century, I took a break...and at the end of the break, I happened to check my email. What I found there was most unexpected. An email from an old friend, who, at one time, I was quite close to. To say the least, things did not end well. The content of this email was nothing I was unaware of, but the source left me nearly catatonic for the better part of 20 minutes.

I called my mom, because I needed to talk to someone, but wasn't sure what to say. She understood exactly how I was feeling, and just sat on the phone with me for several minutes while I was simply unable to utter any words.

As I said, the content of the email was nothing I was unaware of. It basically talked about who I am, and a couple of anecdotes about times I had showed an unexpected amount of strength. And also about what had happened between us, and long story short, an apology.

It served as a much needed reminder of what I'm capable of doing, and how far I have come. This week has been...odd. And has had me thinking about a lot of things in my life. The past, the present, and the future. The past is the past, and something I don't want to forget because it has helped shape who I am now. But there are certain aspects that I rarely talk about, and for those of you who weren't there with me...you'd probably never imagine. But it's something I'm ready to let go of...and to do that, I'm just going to get it out. I was in a relationship that was horrible. And I have scars...emotional scars...from times where I was frequently and obscenely told that I was worthless. It was an abusive relationship...and it has taken a long time to overcome.

But what this is really about now is moving past that. In the past I have had little faith in myself, and a times, those around me. But it's time to move forward. In the past week, I've had more reminders than I can count about how wonderful so many people in my life are right now. It's time I realize, and accept this fact...and that this is my future. Not cruelty. So...thanks for being so awesome, and for being there for me when I've needed it.

For now though, I'm going to listen to the advice of one of my fabulous friends, and I'm going to go to sleep now.

What A Day!!

2011-09-13T18:46:00.000-04:00

!!!!!

The extra exclamation points are definitely required at the moment. As I sit here drinking my chocolate almond recovery milk, I feel I can now (tentatively) say...I'M BACK!! This past weekend was horrible. But things started taking a turn for the better yesterday evening. I did absolutely no training yesterday...but I did something to repair my sole(s) a bit. I now have happy toes, and happy fingers. And the time spent with a friend did much for my mental health.

Beyond that, I got to bed on time last night, and slept quite well, apparently. I woke up this morning, and after being reminded about TV being available on Hulu, I decided to check it out before I went for a spin this morning. I was uber ecstatic to find Top Gear, only to then realize that it was the substandard American version :/ It was still ok. But the spin went well. The only thing I can say is that while traveling about the country, Cedic and I spent far too much time apart, and my sit bones told me (screamed) this morning. But best of all, I went swimming after work...and WOW...WAHOO...YIPEE!! It went ok.

Seriously, I was nervous about swimming. I don't think I've swam since Luray...so to say the least, my hopes for a decent swim were low. But yowza, what happened? I was gliding through the water, swimming with such a relaxed stroke I wasn't really sure it was my stroke. Ok, so perhaps the muscle that I lost during traveling, which was replaced by fat helped with my buoyancy. But who cares! That swim rocked!! The only thing that stunk was that it only lasted a half hour. One of my complaints about this gym is that you only get a half an hour in the pool if people are waiting. But that felt awesome. And I could breathe, which means that I really have gotten over my cold! :)

So, anyway...who would have thought that the pool would have been able to turn my mood around (normally, it's running that does this), but I'm feeling so positive right now! I'm training for an Ironman...and for now (please remind me of this later) I'm having fun!

Points to note: Bonk Breaker energy bars are amazing. And I might start eating them for breakfast. Combined with coffee, it's possible I could start flying to work. Also, for all of the frustrations that I have been having lately, I realize that they are still there, but I'm putting things in place to turn things around, and continue moving forward. So it's not fixed yet, and there is a lot that needs to be considered in the next few weeks/months...but for the moment, I'm feeling like things might actually work out.

I also (finally) signed up for Waterman's Half. And I have some very mixed feelings about this. And I didn't realize it until directly after I clicked submit. I have no idea what the next race will be that I sign up for. Since long before I signed up for Arizona, I have said that I would take a bit of time off, I'll run a marathon in 2012...but other than that, I haven't committed to anything. In fact, I haven't even committed to the marathon that I'll run. So, in one respect, I'm excited about giving my bank account a break, because the small fortune I've spent (and will continue to spend) on IMAZ is hurting. And part of me just wants to get through AZ before I make any decisions. But there is also a part of me that wants to keep going with this whole Ironman thing. Like, maybe next time I train for one of these, the whole process will be (slightly) easier. The longer you do this, the better you get. I understand that I still have time to decide, because IF I do an Ironman next year, it will be Cedar Point. Oh Lord, if I decide to do another one next year, there is a VERY real possibility that my mother will kill me. Or at the very least, not speak to me for a significant amount of time. So I don't know, I can't tell you what the next year will hold. And that makes me a little sad...because I just don't know. It's not like I'm going to stop racing, but not having a clear plan (when so much time has been focused on one race for so long) seems...weird.

So, time to make dinner...because I'm officially back on the wagon...and this girl needs a good dinner!

French Fries are Not Vegetables

2011-09-12T13:39:00.000-04:00

Oh, how I wish, wish, wish this were not true. But alas, it is.

I've basically just moved back to DC, after having been on the road for nearly a month during our busy season at work. I, once again, ate like crap this year while traveling, but seemed to be in a better state of mind than I was last year...and it shows. There were a few issues with cookies. And fries. And cereal (of all things). But to prove that it wasn't the end of me...I weighed myself this morning, and I didn't even get close to my "wow, you really need to lose weight, like yesterday" weight. I didn't even break into the next decade of pounds. Ok, so it's close, but I didn't get there. And in actuality, I only gained a couple of pounds. Compared to last year, when I gained at least 10, the fact that my pants still fit (with nearly the same amount of room as before) is definitely a win.

However...

It's time to get back into the routine of living here, eating healthy, and working out on a regular basis. I thought that the transition to living back at home would be easy...but of course...everything that I *think* will be easy, ends up being a challenge. I went grocery shopping on Friday evening...and looking back on the trips, I could have done a lot better. Ok, I didn't do horrible. Fruits and vegetables were purchased. Pizza crust and Cinnamon Raisin Bread were also purchased. BUT...no cookies.

But I now have motivation to get back on the wagon. I went for what was supposed to be a long run yesterday, and it was horrible. I was dehydrated, and was definitely fatigued, and I knew that it was because I hadn't eaten well over the weekend.

So it starts today.

I have AWESOME Friends :)

2011-09-12T12:07:00.000-04:00

I just wanted to give a quick shout out to everyone who sent me text messages, emailed, messaged, or commented. You guys rock, and totally made my day a lot better. I was really nervous about writing anything in general, mainly because I don't really like to share all of my personal stuff...but I'm so glad I did.

Today is a new day, and all of those frustrations are still there, but I'm seeing them in a slightly different light, so they don't weigh quite as much today.

What would I ever do without you :)

Frustrations

2011-09-11T15:30:00.000-04:00

I've been having a day, and I wouldn't say that it's been a good day. And what put me over the top to having such a fine day? I realized this morning that I lost all of the cash in my wallet sometime yesterday. It wasn't a lot...somewhere around $20...but it's what put me over the top. Mainly because I don't have enough in my checking account to get any more out until I get paid this week. Which, normally I wouldn't need cash, except I was going to do a lot more laundry than I was able to do today. In fact, I ended up laying out the last 2 loads all over my apartment, so I would have clothes to work out in and clothes to wear to work this week.

So, I'm ok with the amount of laundry that I've been able to do...at least I already had some money on my laundry card...but still...frustrating.

The day, obviously, did not start out with this. I had a crappy run this morning. I'm still recovering from the cold I've had, and lets just say I was only able to get in a fraction of the workouts I was supposed to do this weekend. I'm trying to remember that I'm using this weekend as recovery/transition back to life as normal...but it's still frustrating.

Beyond that...lack of money, and lack of training...with now thinking about going back to school, and moving...with the added bonus of Ironman Arizona coming up far too quickly...I've been beside myself.

I'm so frustrated with where I am in life right now. Most of the time I'm ok...just certain days are worse than others. Today, everything feels like it's weighing me down. I'm frustrated with how tiny my apartment is. And beyond that, how much I pay for this tiny apartment. But I can't afford to move out of this tiny apartment either, because that would cost money too. To get out of my lease, and the expense of moving. I'm feeling stuck. And broke.

So, this is not normally a statement I would make...but could I please find a sugar daddy? Please?

And to top things off...who can I talk to about this? I've only skimmed over the surface here...into the land of anonymity...but who can I really have a conversation with about this? Everyone has their own stuff...and some of this stuff is too personal to talk to just anyone about. And I don't want to be a bother. And just thinking that makes me feel stupid. But that's the truth.

Thursday Thirteen: The Airport Edition

2011-09-08T18:45:00.000-04:00

1) I'm on my way home!!! I currently have no scheduled business trips, and at last count, will not for a while. I'll be going home to an empty kitchen, and a lot of cleaning to do. But life is returning to "normal."

2) I have a massive craving for sushi.

3) I am in desperate need of a manicure/pedicure. Fortunately, I have scheduled a trip to get both on Monday. A belated birthday present for a friend.

4) As if this wasn't news before, but my BFF is awesome, and always knows the right thing to say.

5) For as much as I've been traveling this past month, I actually have had a decent time. I haven't been working 6 days a week, and all of the sessions that I have delivered have went really well. To the point where people have told me during every session that I'm doing an excellent job. I love hearing that :)

6) The previous comment definitely hast helped with tolerating the travel this year.

7) Along with the fact that I have awesome friends who have been uber supportive.

8) I have to say, life is going pretty darn good right now. I have my moments of freaking out, and worrying, etc...but at the end of day...I know things will work out.

9) I am occasionally appalled at the housing prices in DC. In the past week, I've been re-introduced to housing costs (both rental and purchase) in Middle America...and I'm jealous. Really jealous.

10) I wonder how late I'll actually get home tonight. My flight lands at 8:30. My guess is 10pm.

11) I would like to throw my suitcase out the window. It's been traveling for 2 years now, and it's definitely well past it's prime. It needs to be retired.

12) Did I mention I have a craving for sushi?

13) And that I get to sleep in my own bed tonight? Because I do. All night long. And I'll be sleeping there again tomorrow night, and the night after. It's a glorious thing.

Some Thoughts on Turning 30

2011-08-29T13:02:00.000-04:00

Over the past couple of years, (check previous posts if you're interested) I've always taken time around my birthday to reflect on the past year...and this time of reflection normally starts about a month before my birthday...which...conveniently...it almost is. Ok...so it's a month from Friday.

I have to say, I'm impressed with my prediction from last year about turning 30. Shortly before (or even on my birthday...not really sure when the conversation happened) I told my dad that I would have a lot going on this year, and wouldn't really be too concerned about my birthday. And you know what...it's true.

Ok, so perhaps writing a post about my birthday, before my birthday is actually here is making a slight deal out of it. But the whole turning 30 thing really isn't affecting me. I'm kind of like "meh...whatever."

In fact, I'm so "meh" about it, and have been for months, that in many instances I've already been referring to myself as being 30 (in more circumstances other than having my age written on my leg for a race). I actually did this to my dad in a conversation a few months ago, and got yelled at that I currently was NOT 30. Perhaps my dad is having a hard time accepting that his youngest child is actually going to be 30. To his credit, he really doesn't look like someone whose youngest child is turning 30. And definitely doesn't have the gray hair to reflect having me as a child for 30 years. And no, he doesn't dye his hair.

So, for those of you that don't know, my grandma passed away on my 20th birthday. It's something that has both upset me, and is also something I don't really like talking about most of the time. And to be honest...I've most often been angry that it's something that I have to deal with. But I don't know if it's my meh attitude that's making the difference, or the fact that this will be the 10th anniversary of her death...or whatever else it is...I'm more willing to celebrate the life that she lived. And I have definitely been missing her a lot lately.

So, another Grandma Stein anecdote. For many years as a child, I never knew how old she was. We would celebrate her birthday, and I'm fairly certain that my mom would actually tell us how old she was, but Grandma would never admit how old she actually was. That is, until she turned 80. After that, she just didn't care any more. I never understood what it was about turning 80 that changed her mind. Or on the contrary, what it was about being in her 70's that made her not want to admit her age...but I wish I would have thought to ask when I had the chance.

So anyway...back to the present. It's almost a month away. And activities for the day are determined more by my training schedule than anything that I really want to do. So my plans for the weekend are to ride 110 miles on my bike, and to run 18 miles. (The 18 mile run is supposed to actually take place on my birthday). In previous years...I've kind of wanted an "all about me" day...where we celebrate the Johanna. And most of this morning, I've been thinking about what I actually want to do with the day. And I have no clue other than I really want to make it to the team training stuff that weekend...even if I have to rent a car and get myself there...I definitely don't want to do the training that weekend on my own. But other than that...meh...whatever. I've thought about getting some people together to go to dinner...but most of the people I can imagine coming are also training for Ironman, so what an exciting evening that will be. We arrive at dinner at a late 4:45pm, and are all at home tucked in to bed by 8:30. Meh. I don't know. There really isn't anyone special to spend the day with. And I had thought about trying to do something with my mom that weekend...but training kinda takes care of that idea...and I'm not even sure she and I could get together that weekend.

It's not that I'm opposed to turning 30. I really don't care about that. And I am definitely not having the anxiety that seems typical of a lot of people my age. If anything, I had that LAST year.

So, if any one has any suggestions of what to do...let me know. Because seriously...I don't think I care.

Ok...a couple of other random points of interest.

1) I finally finished my book about Crazy Horse and Custer. And I have to say, I think both of them have gotten a bum rap in history. Custer especially. I could probably write a lot more about the subject, but I'll hold off for now...especially because most people aren't as interested in this subject as I am. :)

2) I will never again fear the taste of Gu. I was forced to take Dayquil (I currently have a cold) in liquid form yesterday. And, oh, holy crap that stuff is disgusting. BLECH!

Thursday...err...Tuesday...err...Wednesday Thirteen

2011-08-24T18:45:00.000-04:00

1) So I'm traveling...hence the lack of knowing what day it is.

2) I missed all of the earthquake fun in DC yesterday...and am quite disappointed by this fact.

3) Every time some type of disaster hits DC, I am overwhelmed by the amount of love and support I feel. Yesterday afternoon, I heard from my BFF, my Aunt, and friends of my parents. My parents weren't aware because they're currently in Alaska and out of touch.

4) Potato chips and cookies may yet be the death of me.

5) Stupid hurricane. I really want to start singing "Come on Irene!"

6) I am impatient. And am trying to be logical. And the war between the two is not making for an easy week.

7) Amy's Gluten Free/Dairy Free burrito's are delicious.

8) I am proud of myself because I stood all day and did my performing monkey act...and really didn't feel like working out...but I did it anyway. I not only used the bike in the gym, I also did my strength training thing...which it's been way too long since I've done that. And am wondering if that is the reason for some of my leg pain lately.

9) I bought Icy Hot today...and that made me feel really old.

10) I wore a little black (and white) dress and walked into Wal-Mart. Yeah...I was out of place.

11) I'm up in the air about seeing the movie "The Help." I really enjoyed the book, and I think it could translate well into a movie...but I'm afraid that the actual thing will disappoint. Like they normally do.

12) I was literally freezing all day yesterday while traveling. To the point where I considered buying a stupid Chicago sweatshirt to help with the cold.

13) I went to the bathroom on the plane yesterday...and thought of Marie. And would like to let her know that I did not lose my skirt while I was in there. But I did bust out laughing thinking about it.

Luray: Take 2

2011-08-15T14:32:00.000-04:00

Ok, so this wasn't a complete take 2 of the Luray weekend for me since I only relayed the swim of the sprint this year...but this race will always hold a special place in my heart since the sprint was my first triathlon 2 years ago...so instead of writing a full "race" report, I'll just share some highlights from the weekend.

1) Having the crazy Kiwi's voice in your head is NOT always a good thing. Shocking, I know. But Mary had been teasing me all week about taking full advantage of recovery weekend and only swimming 750m. So as we joked around on Sunday morning...we kind of stopped...and said maybe this isn't such a good idea. Karma will come back to haunt you. About 2/3 of the way through the swim, I thought "yeah, I could really puke right now." I didn't, but there were definitely times I wish I had.

2) I have officially been racing open water swims long enough that getting a love tap in the face by someone's foot, or getting elbowed in the eye doesn't really shock me any more. Not to say that it can't hurt. Or won't swell. But it definitely didn't throw me off course.

3) I need to buy a new tent. Let's just say, I'll be drying stuff in my apartment all week long.

4) Cheering can be as exhausting as racing. And definitely more traumatizing to your vocal chords.

5) Even after 2+ years with Team Z, I am continually amazed by the love, support, and friendship we have to offer one another. To be able to see Misha post DNF, smile, and say "it's ok" was awesome. And to know that even if you're having a bad race day, and getting down on yourself, there are about 25 people lined up to kick you in the ass and tell you to learn from the bad day, and move on, and keep having fun (or something similar to that).

6) For those of you that chose this years race as your first tri, my hat is off to you. Especially if you actually had any idea about what you were getting in to. 2 years ago when I signed up for the Luray Sprint, I had absolutely no clue about what this course was about to do to me. The bike course especially. It's definitely not the hardest course around, but I have seen great racers have not so great days here...and this bike course is no joke. But I'm pretty sure this is always going to be my favorite run course, in my opinion, it's pretty much perfect.

7) I felt a lot better about myself Friday evening after dinner, as we were all sitting around, and I realized that I wasn't the only one that had completely slacked off the week before and basically not worked out at all. Not to say that I am recommending this behavior, because my legs pretty much hate me after this morning's run. But I at least know I'm going to be in good company.

Randomness

2011-08-09T07:16:00.000-04:00

I really need to get better at creating titles for my blog posts. But there are a few random things rolling around my head...so I think this title fits.

1) I saw something on the plane yesterday that both infuriated me and also made me in awe of what potential we humans have. I flew Southwest yesterday, and in true Southwest fashion...you get to pick your seats. I was lucky enough to have been forced to buy a business class ticket, so out of the general population getting on the plane, I was number 4. Which meant I was able to get a seat really far forward, on the aisle...exactly where I like to sit. And after I was sitting for a while, I heard a kid crying...but it wasn't the normal screaming baby crying that is so infamous on planes. This was different. The longer I listened, I realized that there was a boy...I would guess that he was around 10-12, and he DID NOT want to fly. In fact, he was on the phone with (I'm assuming) a parent. And he was crying. And his younger sister was sitting next to him, and she wasn't saying much, but she was crying too. And I have to say...she was really cute with her smudged little glasses and her headband. And as more people were getting on the plane...most were avoiding this row like the plague. But there was an older woman who almost walked by, and then realized what was going on, and instead of walking past, promptly sat with these 2 children, and started talking to them. Calming them down. And it worked. The kids finally stopped crying (my guess it was the mass quantities of snacks that the flight attendant gave them) and they ended up having a really good flight. But it wouldn't have happened had this lovely woman not been so selfless to take the time to just be nice to these children.

On the other hand...it was about 15 minutes into the flight (if not longer) that I realized that these children's grandfather (if you can really call him that) was sitting in the row directly in front of them. Yeah...the kids were crying well before the flight...and we couldn't figure out that their grandfather was sitting directly in front of them. Why? Because not once during the entire episode did he even turn around to say anything to these children. NOT ONCE! I was disgusted. I did not kick him as I walked by later, but I would have loved to.

2) So...I'm a friendly sort of person. No really...I am. I'll talk to anyone. Hey...it's kind of my job. And when you travel a lot...it helps break up the monotony. Besides...who doesn't want to have a good flying experience. So anyway...we're in line yesterday to get on the plane...and I started talking to a guy that was in line next to me. I'd seen him earlier with some of his co-workers...and clearly saw the wedding ring on his left hand. But I wasn't trying to pick him up. I was just chatting. But wouldn't you know...the entire time we were talking...that left hand of his was securely in his pocket. Dude...seriously. I don't care if you're married. I'm not trying to do anything that would even get your wife pissed off at you. I was just chatting. Married people are allowed to have conversations...right?

3) I am in desperate need of more coffee. As I'm traveling often right now, my parents, of course, want to be kept up to date on where I am in my travels. And I often include anecdotes such as "Made it to the airport, through security, in desperate search for coffee." My dad then turns around and says that it seems like I'm always in search of coffee. Which is kind of true. I had (I think) 4 cups yesterday. Which in the grand scheme of things, really isn't THAT much. I drink a lot more water during the day. But still...coffee is not something we should not deprive Johanna of. I'm pretty sure we all know this. But one of these days, I wonder if it's going to catch up to me. It's time for another anecdote about my grandma. So, as in previous posts, we've begun to explore the similarities between me and my grandma. A love of coffee is another similarity. She would always drink a cup in the morning (black, like me). And she was so funny....she would always pour the coffee until it overflowed onto the saucer, just so she could get a little extra jolt (me, I just use a bigger mug). And then she'd let the coffee sit until lunch when she would have another cup. She'd heat it up in the microwave. This is where we differ. You will never catch me doing something like this. I completely admit that I'm a coffee snob...and reheating cold coffee is just a horrid idea. But anyway...for my entire life...and long before I was born...this is what my grandma did. As she was getting older, and was getting sicker...my parents and the care givers that worked with my grandma noticed that she was really shaky during the day. So...they pulled a fast one on my grandma. They put decaf coffee in her caffeinated canister...and voila...the jitters stopped.

If any of you ever try to do this to me...I will rain down terror upon your head, like nothing you've ever seen before. :)

4) I bought orange slices yesterday. Not the real fruit. The candy ones. Not really because I want to eat them. Personally...I find the thought a little gross. But I saw them at Target...and I got a nostalgic warm fuzzy feeling. My grandpa ALWAYS had orange slices in his house. ALWAYS. He loved them. Ate them all the time. And I guess I've just been missing both of them lately. It's been nearly 10 years since they both passed away...and something about seeing those stupid orange slices is a comfort.

Thursday...err...Friday Thirteen

2011-08-05T16:24:00.000-04:00

1. So, I was traveling yesterday, and I missed out on doing the Thursday 13, yes, I'm stealing this too...so I'm claiming Friday as a day that will also willing accept my 13 random things.

2. Johanna the nerd strikes again...I started the Crazy Horse and Custer book this morning, and I'm already hooked. Click here for previous nerdly updates.

3. In the past week, I went on a major binge.

4. The devil's brew in question is cookies.

5. A LOT of cookies. A ridiculous, sickening, disgusting amount of cookies.

6. To the point where I ate a real cookie (with dairy AND gluten). In addition to a massive amount of df/gf cookies.

7. And then couldn't figure out why I wasn't feeling well yesterday BECAUSE I DIDN'T REMEMBER I ATE THE COOKIE.

8. It's time for a come to Jesus talk with myself about the cookies. Ok, so I may have already had that conversation.

9. It's busy season at work...so of course...I'm traveling again next week.

10. I'm going to Arizona...again.

11. And again at the end of the month.

12. At some point in my travels there (before November) I hope to scope out the bike course for IMAZ.

13. I may have news soon. Big, life altering, huge, news. Maybe. (At least I hope so) :)

The Problem with Living Alone

2011-07-27T19:58:00.000-04:00

By the title of this post, you may be expecting some winey monologue complaining about how sad and depressing it is living all alone. Or maybe something about not being able to share chores like doing dishes, or something like that. But that's not what you'll find here.

My current problem began a week and a half ago. In the world of Johanna...what happened a week and a half ago? I got a second degree sunburn which aesthetically looks quite pleasing in the shape of a comma on the back of both shoulders.

Now, a week and a half later, the burn is healing. And it itches like crazy.

So of course, because of the location, I have to dislocate my shoulder in order to reach the itch. And of course, not only can I not scratch the itch, I also can't sufficiently put lotion on said burn either.

I've tried a door. It doesn't work.

So...next time you see me...do me a favor...for the love of God...scratch my back. I'm begging you.

So, I'm a Nerd

2011-07-25T11:22:00.000-04:00

As if most people didn't already know this fact, I'm just going to lay out all of the nerdly facts right now. My current obsession is with The Civil War, and my dream vacation is to go to Gettysburg for the weekend. (Why, yes, we DID stop and drive through the battlefields on our way back from NY, but that's not good enough...I want more)

I'm currently reading a book about Civil War curiosities. And it's so not as good as I was hoping it would be. Granted, I'm only 3 chapters in right now, but I'm not liking the way the book is structured. It gives little snippets of interesting (or curious) facts from The Civil War, but it doesn't really go into much detail about any one character. For example, there's an entire chapter on guys who served from both the Union and the Confederate's who served (gallantly) with one or several limbs missing. We get their name, which side they were on, and what battles they were in. But seriously, there's only so many guys you can read about before everything starts to blur together. This is great, they did great things...TELL ME ABOUT IT! Not just that they had to be strapped to their saddle to be able to ride. Woo. So, Webb Garrison, I applaud your effort, but I give you a C...minus.

But I'm hopeful that my nerdly adventure is going to get better. Because not only do I have the curiosities book to read, I now have (in my possession or ordered) approximately 6 books about The Civil War to read. Maybe more, I'm not actually sure of the total count.

Next up on the reading list (most likely) will be a book by Stephen Ambrose (author of Band of Brothers) about Crazy Horse and Custer. I'm a little excited.

So, if in conversation, or any other type of communication, I begin to spout off about the bloody carnage that happened, or interesting facts about battlers, etc...I'm telling you now, you were warned.

The Official Story of an Unofficial Day

2011-07-19T12:38:00.000-04:00

Musselman had been a long time coming for me. I was originally supposed to do this last year as my first half, and instead of making the trip last year, I ended up having surgery instead. But I was really looking forward to the race this year, even though I have been feeling like I was going to throw up at the mere thought for the last month or so. I knew that the training was there...but after DNF'ing at B2B last year, it seemed like this distance was my kryptonite. And apparently, it still is.

Over the past couple of days, I've heard a lot of people refer to the swim as being really rough, with a lot of waves. Call me crazy, but I was kind of having a really good time on the swim. Rolling with the waves, and laughing when I had grass stuck to my face. That is, until about 200 meters to go. I had been feeling fine all weekend, and enjoying the cleaner air that Geneva had to offer, but I started to realize that I was having problems breathing. I've had asthma for a few years (basically my entire life), and haven't had many problems lately. In fact, all of this crazy endurance training has helped a great deal. (If you really want to know how much it's helped, I can share more details, let's just say, it's significant) But every once in a while, it sticks its foot out in front of me, and I land on my face. Cut to the boat dock at Musselman, and I'm there "standing" and clawing at the back of my wetsuit trying to get free, gasping for breathe.

Somehow, someone got me out of my wetsuit, and sat down. And I vaguely remember Alexis and Marta sitting with me. And finally someone stuck an inhaler in my face. The next 30 minutes or so are basically a big blur, but Marta helped me into transition once I could stand, and I'm pretty sure if I were able to see a video (I pray that none actually exist) I would laugh at her attempt to get me out of my wetsuit and into my bike gear. I also must admit that I felt ridiculous getting into my bike gear, because I was sure my day was over. I was already very close to the swim cut off time, and I still was having problems breathing. But there I sat, in my bike gear. Looking ridiculous.

At this point, there were a lot of people around, everyone was asking what I was going to do, and I still couldn't think straight. There's a bit of a claustrophobia thing that happens...and I needed to get away from everyone's questions. So I did the one thing I could to have a second to myself. I went to the port-o-loo. (Anyone else see the irony here?)

And when I came out, I decided I'd take up Ed's offer of turning in my chip and riding the bike course, unofficially. Adele had graciously offered to ride with me. And by that time, we had recruited Kerry to join us too. Iwan gave us a fabulous TDF worthy start...and 58 miles, and 6 hours later, we roll back in. I'm going for a bit of brevity for this, so I won't go into all of the gory details because we finished the ride, and that's the main point. Never mind the fact that my font brake fell off about a minute before the big hill/right turn combo (good timing there!) or that I realized I am REALLY horrible at math. Apparently 23 + 23 doesn't equal 56. Who knew! You know that map with all of the winery's along the bike course... :)

The entire bike ride, I had it in my head that I came to NY to finish 70.3 miles, and by God, that's what I was going to do. I didn't have a doubt that no matter what time we rolled back in, or how long it took, I was going to get those miles in. So at 4pm, Kerry and I headed out on the run course, after MANY warnings about the heat, and staying hydrated, we agreed to only walk along the lake, and do the 5K course multiple times. It was about a mile into the walk that I looked over at Kerry and asked if we were going to admit that we were being idiots yet. The answer, of course, was no. But we finally realized that we really were being kind of stupid. So we told Adele that we'd just make one loop (which turned into about 4.5 miles) and she went back to let everyone know. Mainly, my mother.

We got an incredible welcome back, and my day was finally done.

What I've written so far, is my view of what happened that day. What I've been having a more difficult time writing about is what I have felt about that day. On good race days, I have always been thrilled to be a part of this team. But I think it takes having a bad day, a really bad day, to really see what this team is all about. I have never felt so much love and support than I did that day. From Alexis and Marta (and whoever else I'm missing) who immediately jumped in to take care of me when I couldn't breathe, to Ed telling me that it was ok, and everyone would still be there whenever I finished. From Mary (yes, even at a distance) being the little angel on my shoulder saying that the day was only for training. To Adele, who words cannot express how awesome she was to jump in and go for a 56 mile ride because I needed company. Whose main goal for the day was getting us home safely. She is truly the rock star/den mother for the day, and I will never be able to thank everyone enough. You took care of me, and you took care of my parents. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Waterlogged: The Story of a Roadtrip with a Well Hydrated Triathlete

2011-07-16T17:32:00.000-04:00

As I now sit in Geneva, NY, t minus 14 hours until the start of the Musselman Triathlon, with my nerves going through the roof (if that were really possible)...I think that means this is the perfect time to bring a little humor into the day, and share the story of our trip to this wonderful town.

We started the day off with packing my parents Explorer completely full. But Cedric was able to be packed in, while minimizing the risk of damage. I'll not give you any suspense to this bit, and let you know now that he made it to NY in once piece. Well...technically 2 because I did take off his front wheel. Needless to say, all is well on the bike front.

So...since my dad has already been to a triathlon before, we started off by trying to prepare my mom a bit for what she would experience over the next few days. Her immediate question was "where did you get this desire to do crazy things from?"

I think now would be a good time to share a couple of anecdotes about my Grandma Stein.

Perhaps one of the most famous stories about my Grandma as a young girl involves a large hill, and a pair of roller skates. Oh yes, and train tracks. So...do we really think this story is going anywhere good? Anyway, the story goes that my Grandma was out roller skating one day, like kids did back in the day, and my Grandma thought it would be a good idea to skate down this hill. And of course, at the bottom of this hill was a set of train tracks. So as my Grandma is skating at speeds no human should skate down a hill (without a helmet, or any other type of protective gear) she notices that there are, in fact, train tracks at the bottom of the hill. So of course, by the time she gets there, she has no viable means to stop. So she just jumps over the tracks, and continues skating. No harm, no foul. Just another day in the life.

Of course, this is also the girl, that when provoked by her older brother, chased him around the entire house with a broom threatening death upon his head.

So...does anyone else have any questions about where I got this from?

I didn't think so.

So after I reminded my mom about this...she kind of kept quiet about the whole situation. The mere fact that the crazy gene skipped a generation is not my fault.

So now onto the remainder of the story of our roadtrip...I'll also mention that the past week, I've been drinking approximately 2 gallons of water a day...at least. Which really is probably only about a half gallon more than normal for me. I know, I know, I'm not human. But this also meant that I had to pee about every 15 minutes. Maybe 30 if I could stretch it. And I swear, I informed my parents about this. I told my dad that a well hydrated athlete was worse than a toddler in the middle of potty training. Did he believe me, or perhaps realize the reality of this situation? Of course not!

So it's an hour into the drive, and not only am I need in dire need, so is my mother. HA! It's not all my fault! Then it's another hour into the drive. Uh...dad? :) And by this time, it's to the point in the day where I've already had my second breakfast, so I'm thinking about where we're going to eat lunch. We finally decide on a Lonestar in some town that I couldn't remember the name of if you paid me. Lunch time also typically means more caffeine time for Johanna (and this, of course, is not something wise to deprive me of) so I order coffee with lunch. And it's possible I might have drank 2 cups in addition to the 3 glasses of water I drank. My dad was hoping we would be able to at least make it outside the city limits before needing another stop. Well...we did. Barely. An hour later...Dadddddeeeeeeeeeee...I have to peeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! So we start looking for places, and the only thing available is a small convenience store in an even smaller town. I rush in the door, and must have had a crazy look on my face. Two guys in the store immediately told me where the bathroom was without me even needing to ask. Whew. At some point over the next couple of hours, I'm pretty sure I drank more water. And I'm pretty sure I took a little nap, because the next thing I knew, we were in NY, and we had to make another stop. At this point, I realize we're about an hour from Geneva, and we're probably going to make it there without another necessary pit stop. That is, until we got to Watkins Glen. And what do we see as we're driving through town? A cute little shop advertising Vegan Soft Serve. Sorry folks, but this is an emergency. We're going to need to stop. Right now.

It was amazing, and completely, utterly, ridiculously the right thing to do. I smile at the mere thought. And of course, it's good to have your priorities straight.

Back on the road...we finally get to Geneva, and check into the Athlete's Village (which was much more of a disaster than it should have been, but we survived. We were able to bring in at least one load of luggage. And then it was off to the MicroMussel. Let's just say, it has been a LONG time since I have laughed that hard. Or seen so many adults trying to ride a tricycle.

But I guess you might be wondering what we did during this lovely road trip, other than worry about where were going to be able to stop to pee. I was a little worried about the drive because I'm not a huge fan of road trips. I really am not a fan of spending that much time in a vehicle. But this was really lovely. And there's no other way to describe it. The drive up is utterly gorgeous. I was a little disappointed that the drive through Gettysburg really doesn't show anything cool, like a battlefield or something. But hey, you DO get to see the outlet malls. It's nearly all through the mountains, and the last hour as you're along Lake Seneca was breathe taking at times. So instead of my normal "hurry up and let's just get there already" it was really nice to be able to relax, and enjoy what we saw along the way (and ate) and get there when you get there.

Final tally:
160-ish oz of water
2 cups of coffee
7 stops
340 miles
8.5 hours

Food: Friend or Foe

2011-07-12T15:27:00.000-04:00

I've kept it no secret that I've had issues with food for...well...my entire life. And this ranges from multiple rounds of eating disorders, to gaining a massive amount of weight that got me up to almost 300 pounds...and then losing over 100 of those pounds. And to date, I still have a daily struggle with food. And most days, will readily admit that I'm addicted to food. Not only do I love food...I mean really good food. I think about food all the time. And if I go 15 minutes without eating something, I get a little shaky. And seriously...it's not like "normal" addictions where you can just go cold turkey. Because if you go cold turkey on food, that's called "anorexia" and that's just not a good thing either.

So, for the past year (ish) I've had a really weird struggle. I will do wonderfully all day long at eating healthy, staying within my intended calorie goal. And then evening comes along and I can't shove food into my mouth fast enough. Or get enough in there.

And for a really long time, I thought I was crazy, and that it was simply a mental problem that I needed to overcome. But seriously...Ironman training, not a good time to tell me I can't eat food. You might not come back with any fingers.

But today, I read an article courtesy of USAT that made a light bulb go off over my head.

I have been starving myself. Not that I haven't been eating, I just haven't been eating enough. In fact, I was about 500 calories off of my baseline calorie intake (at least according to this article). And 500 calories, that's actually a lot of food.

So, we're going to try something new. We're going to try to eat more. And I'm going to go back to my "it's ok to eat 1 cookie a day" rule. Normally, I'm fine with that rule, but with the whole binge eating at night problem, I've restricted myself from cookies in general, unless I intentionally wanted to binge, then I'd have a hard time resisting that aisle at Whole Foods.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not going completely off the deep end with junk food. At least that's not the intention. I realize how much better I feel when I eat healthy, and I'm making no plans to change that on the grand scheme of things...but in small portions, I'm ok with that. I mean...working out a minimum of 15 hours a week...I think that deserves a cookie.

Though, this does allow me to address something that some of my non-endurance athlete friends have said to me a lot lately. "You're working out all the time, you can eat whatever you want."

That sounds really nice, but it couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, I have to be more careful about what I eat BECAUSE I work out all the time. I have to make sure I eat enough protein, and carbs, and fat, but not too much fat. All for optimal performance value.

And at the end of the day, I'm going to try to care less about what the number on the scale says, and value more how I feel, and even more what the tape measure says.

A little over a year ago, I weighed the least that I have as an adult, and I was the smallest as I had ever been as an adult. This year, I now weigh about 10 pounds more than I did, but I'm the same size. And I'm ok with that.

So I'm sure that this is going to continue to be a daily struggle for me, but I'm hoping that one of these days, food and I can be on friendly terms without being TOO friendly.

Huh

2011-06-27T10:38:00.000-04:00

Exhilarating title. I know. But that's pretty much what my mind feels like right now.

It is now Monday morning, after recovery weekend. And this is also the beginning of taper for Musselman. Historically, I don't like taper. I get cranky. I consistently feel like I'm going to throw up. And in short, I'm a joy to be around. It's not because the workouts are getting shorter, though after such a significant build cycle (which for me has lasted about a month) once could, potentially blame it on that. It's because taper means the race is getting closer. A lot closer.

Less than 3 weeks closer.

So the nervous energy that I normally carry around, where I can't sit still for more than 40 minutes at a time, gets a lot worse. A LOT worse. This is the time of year that you might find me baking up a storm. Or crocheting an afghan. Or something to use up this nervous energy. I can't, and don't want, to sit still. Good for training. Bad for down time.

Prime example: this past weekend. It's recovery weekend, which means I should be able to spend an ample amount of time sitting on my couch doing absolutely nothing. Which don't get me wrong, I did. But I also did a lot more than that. I ran (a mere 5 miles). I went to lunch with my college roommate who made her annual trek to visit her sister in VA. I went to a jazz concert. I read a book. Yes, an entire book. I went for a bike ride. I did laundry. Took a couple of naps. And all before 1pm on Sunday. So I then decided I should probably make some food for the week, and I think by the looks of my refrigerator I should be able to not cook until at least Tuesday. Oh...and I gave myself a manicure, which looks pretty good, if I do say so myself. And then started watching "It Happened One Night." But couldn't completely finish it because I nearly passed out. So we'll add that to the list of stuff I need to do today.

As mentioned in previous posts, I've had a lot of my mind lately. I promise though, this will be far less of a rant than before. And I'm going to really try to keep it positive this time.

1) I realized this morning that for the second year in a row, my dad will be driving to DC on his birthday. To, once again, take care of me. Last year it was surgery. This year, half-Ironman. Both painful to get through, but you rarely get the good drugs with a triathlon. I'll probably sleep about an equal amount of time after both. And, of course, my mother is going to be equally as nervous before and during both. (Something for those of your cheering at Musselman are going to have so much fun experiencing)

2) I can't decide between growing my hair out (long enough to pull up) or keep it uber short. Thoughts?

3) I am not one to really take the time to pamper myself. Though with the damage that I am currently doing to my body, I have been thinking lately that this might not be a bad idea. So I have figured out a way to do this, and not take any more time than I normally spend doing...stuff...to my body. I bought nice soap, shampoo, conditioner, shave cream and lotion. Just replacing the normal stuff that I use has made a huge difference. Seems weird, but it's true. I've noticed that long after I get out of the shower, I catch a hint of mint (mmm) and it makes me smile. Or how soft my legs feel against my cycling shorts. Amazing.

4) I read something earlier today that spoke of how in today's society we rarely take the time to do...well...anything. In our fast food, facebook, email communication, work-aholic lifestyle...we don't take time like they used to back in the day (and I'm talking about like when my grandparents were courting time). We rarely sit down to dinner. Myself, I don't even own a real table. Ok, so I technically have 2, but neither of them currently live in my apartment with me. We don't write letters. We email. Don't get me wrong, I love facebook, because without it I wouldn't be able to keep in touch with a lot of people, including half of my family. But this also means that much of our communication has been abbreviated to 1 or 2 sentences, (or 1 or 2 words) as opposed to taking the time to sit down and write a letter. Maybe it's just the stress of training and busy season at work, but I miss being able to take the time to do stuff like this. And this is not the first time I've had this thought, but every once in a while I like to think that one day I'll be able to relax a little and take more time to do some of this stuff.

A Lot on My Mind

2011-06-23T20:08:00.000-04:00

I'm not quite sure how to start this. I have about a million thoughts roaming through my head right now, and I'm not sure I can even get them straight so it could make sense.

I guess to start with, the most oppressive thought right now is I'm alone. I have been for a long time, but the past couple of months I have had an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I know that moving to DC has been the right thing for me. And I have met some amazing people since I've been here. But I don't have anyone that's mine more than they are anyone else's. Since my old roommate moved back home, I have no one to go to dinner with, or go to the movies. My phone doesn't ring.

I understand that life is busy for everyone. It's definitely busy for me. I get that life is busy. But I don't want it to be so busy that we can't or won't make time for other people.

5 years ago, if you had asked me, I would have told you that I wanted to get married. And I always have wanted to. But I never wanted to have children when I was growing up. I was too afraid that I wouldn't be a good parent. As I got a little older, it was more that I didn't want to have children with my ex...and his family. And somewhere since then, it has changed into a husband a children are all I want. So many times I have thought that I would gladly give up everything in my life to have a husband and children. I don't want to have to give up my life. I want to continue to be able to do crazy endurance sports. I want to work. But I want that too. And if I had to choose just one...I'd go with the family.

I think it hit the hardest when my Grandma mentioned to my Aunt over Christmas that I would be a good mom one day. For most people, this might not be an unusual comment to hear from a Grandma, but it's definitely a rare comment coming from my Grandma. It isn't that she doesn't love us. She just tends to be very reserved with her affection. And a comment like that means a lot.

Writing something like this is not an easy thing for me to do. Talking about my feelings, asking for help, etc...not something I do easily, or without feeling guilty. And I have contemplated for a long time writing about how I have been feeling. You could say I'm more the "suffer in silence" type. In this particular case, one of the things that I absolutely don't want, and a major factor in my hesitation, is the relatively phony sounding "Oh that's not true, we love you, you're wonderful" type comments. Ok, so whoever reads that might not be thinking that exact same thing. But I guarantee someone would come up with something like that. And to be honest, I don't want to hear it. That's not my purpose in writing this. Consider this one, big vent.

I have a type...of guy...that I like. And sadly, I've never dated someone that was "my type." There is a list of stuff that I really want. The list has a name. But I would probably get made fun of. And besides, it's a personal thing. 6'4". Brown hair. Brown eyes. Killer smile. Good with a first aid kit. Strong enough to pick me up off the ground when (not if) I need it. And there are moments I want to bury my face in the crook of his (whoever he might be) shoulder and get a hug. Sometimes, it's hard for me to breathe I want that so much.

I have, however, dated a few guys that are really not my type, and frankly, probably shouldn't be anyone's type. Not so nice guys. But I didn't think I could do any better...so I went with it. But now, most of the time, I do know better, and I refuse to settle. Not anymore. I know it's better to be single than to be in a relationship that isn't good. But it's so much better to be in a relationship that's good. I can make the bed by myself. But it's so much easier when there's someone else to help.

I sometimes think that maybe I'm so wrapped up in my own (the right word is failing me...misery, loneliness, pity) that I don't see what I could be doing for someone else. How I can be a good friend to someone else? And I think a lot of times that problem isn't just mine. I think sometimes I don't want to bug people, so I just don't say anything. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll annoy the other person. Or sometimes I just get tired of making the effort all the time. My mom always tells me that I need to make an effort to keep that connection with people. But when it seems like you're pulling teeth just to get there, and you're not getting anything in return, it's not much fun sometimes. But you have to do it, because the other person just isn't going to. And unfortunately, most of the people I can't exactly get rid of.

Some days, it seems like I check my email a thousand times, begging to get an email from someone. And it seems pathetic. And 99.9% of the time, I'm completely disappointed. I just keep hoping, someday, out of the blue, something is going to click.

You know, for as much as I am hopeful, I've just about given up on ever finding "the one." I try to keep faith, but at the same time, I am scared to get my hopes up, because it really might not ever happen. I know, I know, I still have time. But at the ripe age of 29.75, it feels like I've waiting long enough. And I don't really want to be 40 chasing a toddler around.

Turning things around a little. I don't want it to seem like I never get anything from my friends. I do, occasionally, and when I do, it probably means more to me than people realize. Just the offer of a ride, or someone telling me they look forward to seeing me means a lot. Definitely something I could probably use more of.

Turning back now (please forgive me, but this is a vent after all). I'm invisible sometimes. Sometimes it's an "out of sight, out of mind" type of invisible. I'm not in the room, so people forget, or just don't care, how awesome I normally am. Sometimes, I'm in the room, and people just don't see me. And I know that it isn't just me. But a good example. I was waiting to get on a plane this morning, and I was patiently waiting to walk up to the counter to have my boarding pass scanned. They were holding off a bit because the jet bridge was getting backed up, so I hung back a bit, but I thought it was still rather obvious I was waiting to get on the plane. And a group of about 10 people walked up and walked right past me, and cut in line. I had a bright orange dress on, and they were so wrapped up in their own world that they couldn't see me standing there waiting to get on the plane. And the guy that sat in front of me kept fidgeting in his seat, completely oblivious to the fact that the girl sitting behind him has ridiculously long legs and is going to end up with bruised knees because he kept pushing his seat back, and kept hitting me. Again, I get that this doesn't just happen to me.

So anyway, I still have a lot going through my mind. But I'm not sure if I can continue to write right now. So if you've made it through this far, thanks for letting me vent. :)

Oops.

2011-06-16T19:59:00.000-04:00

It's a very good thing that my dad is so good at organizing and scheduling. A couple of weeks ago, I requested vacation time for Musselman. For the weekend after the Fourth of July.

Anyone else see a problem with this? Because my dad definitely did.

See...last year when I was supposed to do Musselman, it was the weekend after the Fourth. And so this year, now that I'm actually going to compete...I was still thinking that it was the weekend after the Fourth.

So Dad corrected me. And I corrected the vacation time. AND...best of all...I have an extra week to train than I thought I did before :)

And now that we're gearing up for peak training weekend, I'm collecting ice, buying Gatorade in mass quantities...and hoping that the weather is decent.

EEK!!

Oh...so THAT'S what training is supposed to be like

2011-05-29T08:28:00.000-04:00

Well...for the first time since Shamrock in March, I made an important decision last week. I looked at a training schedule.

And I realized that I should be spending a lot of time on my bike. At least a lot more than I have been. So I have a lot of work to do in the next month and a half (can that really be right?!?) before Musselman.

But this weekend had been in my head to be a good, long training weekend. I have 3 days. So the plan literally has been to do a long run, "long" ride, and to rest.

So I wake up early yesterday morning...completely on my own...which is not that unusual. But I felt I had slept really well, so I went with it. And after breakfast, I decided I might as well go to the grocery store now because I knew I wouldn't really feel like it after my run. And then I sat down. And started ready Assassination Vacation...which side note: This book completely makes me want to take a road trip and get my nerd on. And also makes me thankful that while growing up, my parents did drive us all over the country on educational vacations so I have already been to a lot of the famous Lincoln sites...but I definitely want to re-visit them ALL.

But back to what I was supposed to be doing yesterday. Which is running. Sitting down is typically the killer to any desire that I have to work out. This couch...it is so comfortable. And this book...it is so interesting. And this day...it is so hot. I shall never survive if I leave the house to run 10 miles.

So I got over myself, and started running. The goal was to run 10 miles or 2 hours - whichever came first. Historically, for me, the 10 mile training run has been the epitome of getting my ass handed to me.

I am happy to report that I ended up finishing 10.35 miles in 1 hour and 50 minutes (this includes walking up a couple of small hills, as well as taking a short break to re-fill one of my water bottles). And I got back home, and I, of course, had the thought "oh...that was it?"

So I'd already gone to the grocery store, and did a 10 mile run...I had every right to lay around on the couch for the rest of the day and do nothing...right? Enter the moment where we realize Johanna does not know the definition of the word "relax." I ended up going back to the grocery store because I realized my chocolate almond milk was now the consistency of snot...and after finishing a 10 mile run...what tastes better than chocolate milk? And then I decided I needed to give myself a manicure and pedicure...which instead of spending $40 to treat myself, I spent 2 hours curled into a pretzel doing it myself. And of course the kitchen needed to be cleaned.

And then I promptly passed out on the couch.

So today starts off with still getting up early. And more reading. And now I'm getting ready to do that lovely bike ride. And then I really am laying around on the couch...because my goal is to finish the book today. And it's possible that I might have the Indy 500 on while I do so...because it's the Indy 500...and even though I normally don't watch car racing...it kind of takes me back to my youth...when my brother used to get mad because we had to go to some family thing every year and he was mad because he had to miss the race.

So while my friends are still climbing those miserable mountains today...I'll be laying on my couch...drinking chocolate milk. I'll be thinking of you...and will be glad that our places are not reversed.

I have a very clean bathroom...

2011-05-21T21:01:00.000-04:00

...and kitchen...and, well...apartment.

Clean, to the point where I was on my hands and knees cleaning the floor.

What, you might ask, prompted such a spree of cleaning? Well...I got thrown for a bit of a loop today. I didn't really sleep in like I had hoped, and I ended up vegging on the couch most of the morning and I read a book. Yes, an entire book. Though I didn't drink as much coffee as I would have preferred, it was really very nice. Between mom's visit last weekend, working late at work, and long workouts, I haven't had much time to just enjoy the peace and quiet that my apartment often affords me. Then I finally decided I'd get a work out in. It went ok...nothing fantastic...and definitely nothing that is going to make finishing Musselman in a couple of months. But it did make me realize that I should start shopping for a new saddle soon.

Still nothing that threw me for a loop.

I check my email after I get done...and lo and behold...my ex has friended me on facebook. Now this is not an ex that ended on good terms. Let's just say that he was a bit of a control freak, and a manipulator. And just generally not a good guy. Hence why I kicked him to the curb.

It just made me feel like the past was creeping in on me...when at the moment, I'd much rather be moving forward. Personally...I like Cat's idea from last night...which includes a military doctor.

So what did I do? I started cleaning. I started in the bathroom. And it's now sparkling. And it wasn't until I was half way through the kitchen floor that I realized that if I let him affect me like this, he wins. And I don't like to lose. At all. So I immediately felt a little better.

I'm still in a bit of a funk...but not as bad as it could be.

Shamrock Marathon: The Run of Walking 1000 Miles

2011-03-21T14:03:00.000-04:00

To say the least, I was not looking forward to yesterdays race. Since January, I haven't had the motivation to train for much of anything...and only completed one 14 mile run, and a couple of 8 mile runs. I wasn't prepared. At all.

But there was no switching to the half because it was sold out.

Sooooooooooo....the marathon I would run. And did! Knowing that it was a team race, and the likelihood that I'd be able to find someone to run with was high...so I was hopeful that would happen. And when AJ invited me to join their group...I was relieved.

I'm not gonna lie...we were that group that other people looked on and a) wished they were a part of because we were having that much fun or b) wished they could run faster so they could get away from us :) Between bouts of "singing" at the top of our lungs to the Proclaimers, stripping when it got hot...as a group...and crossing the finish line holding hands...it was quite a memorable race.

Not to say that it was an easy day for anyone. Let's face it...any day that you run 26.2 miles isn't going to be easy...but we made it! Even with the disgusting wind, and cold temps. (BTW...the red face today is NOT sunburn...for once I used sunscreen willingly. But it does little for 25mph wind gusts).

And now that it's over...I really feel the urge to train for something...like a marathon. I mean...if I can finish a marathon with little training...and not feeling like I'm going to die until mile 25...and in less time that I finished my last marathon...imagine what I could do if I actually did train?!? And I think I'm actually figuring how to race one of these things.

Oh...and I am also now proud to say that I have completed more marathons than I have 5K's. Considering I really hate 5K's...I'd say it's best if I keep it that way.

Now off to packing...and Sticky Fingers for a cupcake :)

Moving...backwards?

2011-02-21T18:08:00.000-05:00

I've been quiet for a while. I could say that I've been busy...but that's really not why. I've been spending a good deal of time working on me. It's about damn time. And I've been feeling better the past couple of months...really figuring out what I want in life.

So...updates:

I finally decided to give dating a try again. Shocking...I know. Men are still idiots...and I truly hate the process...but there is now some part of me that is hopeful that a relationship is possible. Which is new. My dad's idea of me dating? Surely with the amount of injuries I've suffered and will suffer...I should be able to snag a doctor on one of my many trips to the ER. Thanks Dad. I love you too.

Work has been going well. I finally found out what my new job is...and I'm really going to like it. And I'm now scheduled for my first work trip in a few months...and I'm actually really excited about it. I'm going back to Spokane (if the weather holds up for me to get there)...so it will be nice going back to WA.

And I'm moving. It feels like I'm moving backwards. When I was 21 and fresh out of college, I moved into a 2 bedroom, 850 square foot apartment. I had my own washer and dryer. I had a dishwasher. But I was in Middle America. But I had my own place. Then I moved to DC...and had roommates again...and we won't go over the living hell that turned out to be. Then Bri and I moved into our apartment. And it's been good. But she's moving back home...and I couldn't be more excited for her. It's what she wants to do...where she wants to be. So the year I turn 30...I'll be moving into a 250 square foot efficiency apartment.

Something seems extremely wrong with this picture.

In what seems like eons ago...I had hopes that I'd own my own home by the time I turned 26.

Don't get me wrong...I'm excited about having my own place again, and about being much closer to work. I am. But there is a part of me that's disappointed. And I'm not sure if it's in myself. Or just the situation in general.

I've been hiding this weekend. I've read 3 books. And I haven't worked out for anything. And it's because I wanted to turn my brain off. I didn't want to have to think about the situation...and come to terms with where I am.

But I can't do that forever. I know I can't. I know I need to. But all day I've had a knot in my stomach and in my throat...and in my heart. Deal with it, I must.

Nutrition, Slacking and IMAZ

2010-12-03T13:48:00.000-05:00

Let's get IMAZ out of the way.

It's official. I've really gone 'round the bend now. I signed up for Ironman Arizona.

'Nuff said.

No?

Ok.

You all know I'm more loquacious than that.

The entire weekend before, I was nervous. Hands shaking, about ready to throw up, and I kept checking the website...making sure I had the right one. So at 2pm on that fateful Monday...I go to the site. Ok...to be honest...I'd had it up on my computer all day. And at 2pm, the website kept telling me it was busy and to check back in a few minutes. And IT KEPT TELLING ME THAT!?!

About 20 minutes in, I got an email from Matt telling me he had made it in. I frantically write him an email saying I couldn't get the @%*$*@ website to let me in. He calmly emailed me another link. And of course it worked perfectly. It let me sign up. It let me sign up about 5 minutes before it closed.

Whew.

What the $*^&$ have I done? Even now, nearly 2 weeks later...I'm still wondering that. What if I can't do the training. What if I get a brain tumor in the next couple of months and can't go on? (Hey...with the past year that I've had...anything is possible) (Plus I have a headache right now, and the brain tumor thing seems like a likely cause) (Or maybe it's just that I need to go to the eye Dr.) What if I get all the training in, and I still can't finish? Can I finally take a bit of a break after next November?

Then I started looking at everything else I need to buy before next November.

Now I *KNOW* I'm crazy.

And this is supposed to be for fun?

Oh boy.

And this is all constantly running through my head.

So there's that.

Next!

I guess the other 2 topics are mostly related. It's the holiday's. And I'm training for a marathon and a half. And it's the holiday's. And there's a ridiculous amount of disgusting (and when I say disgusting...I really mean really tasty, yet really bad for you) food all around. Fortunately, I'm genetically inferior, and can't eat most of it. But I'm hungry ALL THE TIME. And it won't stop. I am trying to do as good as I can...but it's incredibly difficult. And I'm nearly ready to throw my scale out the window. Maybe I should do that anyway. Or at least ignore it for the next few months.

I've calculated my workout percentage of scheduled vs. completed. In October (after I started keeping track) I did 80% of the scheduled workouts. Not bad. In November, this number has decreased to 67%. This has mainly decreased after Beach2Battleship. Not that I didn't deserve a bit of a break. I definitely feel it was warranted. I just seem to be having a difficult time getting back into the swing of things. On the weekends, I have still been getting my long workouts in. Well...at least the long runs. It's the weekday efforts that are getting lost in the shuffle of being exhausted, and unmotivated to work out in the morning, and jury duty, and holiday's. Weirdly, the one that I haven't missed at all is my strength training, which has previously been the thing I've most easily dropped. Maybe because I can do it at home while watching TV. Maybe because it's been requiring less effort. Maybe it's because I have finally seen the light when it comes to building muscle, and it's effects in other disciplines. Who knows? (Most likely, it's all 3 causes) Any way you look at it, I've been beating myself up about it. Probably not the most effective course of action. But that's where things stand.

I think the most frustrating thing going on right now is that I'm feeling lazy because I've been slacking...but because the long workouts (and my constant battle with food) I'm eating more than I feel like I'm burning off right now.

So I'm running 18 miles tomorrow. And getting things back on track.

I swear :)

I Love the Smell of Neoprene in the Morning

2010-11-15T21:48:00.000-05:00

Fact: Your body can go much further than your mind will usually let you.

Fact: A month and a half of real training is still not enough time to train for a 70.3 race.

Fact: My dad snores REALLY loud.

Well...the end of the triathlon season has come and gone...and it doesn't really feel like there's going to be any closure. No celebration. No special treat. Nothing of the kind. At least not now. In many ways, the "end" of the season is really just another training weekend, and a good way to point out just how far I have to go.

Today is November 15. Four months and one day ago, I had surgery. And 2 weeks after that, I got the joy of completely starting over on training. One week after that, I started traveling for work, which greatly inhibited my ability to train...both mentally and logistically. Then, once I actually started living at home again...I renewed my commitment to training...and have actually (finally) done quite a good job of keeping to my training schedule.

But anyway...

Pre-race:

This would be my dad's first race as my sherpa...so I was really excited to be able to share this with him. Over the past year and a half, my parents have been able to see what triathlon has done for me personally...and now my dad was going to be able to see it up close and personal. So my dad gets to DC on Wednesday evening...and Thursday morning we head to Wilmington. After several hours on the road, and a couple of last minute, tire screeching exits...I banish my dad from driving and more that day...and we eventually get to the hotel in one piece.

On Friday...we sleep in...well...kind of. I actually woke up around 4am...and couldn't get back to sleep because my dad was snoring loud enough, I couldn't block out the sound. But eventually...I get a bit more sleep. Then we head to do all of the fun pre-race stuff...like packet pick up and the pre-race meeting. After I had picked up my packet...I ran into Chris Wren...and chatted for a bit about water temps...and he told me that if I had the chance...I should get in the water because he hyperventilated for a couple of minutes when he first got in. This was slightly un-nerving. But I figure cold water is cold water...and there's nothing I can do to change that right now. So...pre-race meeting...the only notable thing I'll mention is my favorite quote of the weekend...in regards to exiting the water and the warm clean water showers...and the need to pay special attention to the...ahem...crotchel areas. Actual quote.

Post pre-race meeting...we head back to the hotel (and our second meal at Chick-Fil-A) so I could get all of my transition bags together. Which I do...and then dad and I head off to drop off my bike. It wasn't until this point that dad I really realized the logistical nightmare of the point to point race. But we survived...and my bike got to the appropriate place. And my dad survived dinner with all of you crazy Z people.

Race Morning:

The way my race jitters work...I'm a "lets get there ridiculously early as opposed to possibly being late" type of person. So that's what we did. And after I dropped off my transition bag...my dad asked if I wanted to sit in the car for a while to warm back up...which I obviously did. But when it was time to meet the rest of the team...I bared the cold...and headed to body marking. I lovingly told the guy that did my marking that "no offense...but you're going to be my least favorite person today."

So...we're all standing around. Shivering. And Mark gets this fabulous idea to just put my wetsuit on...and that will keep me warm. I didn't think it sounded like a terrible idea. Until 30 seconds later when I was struggling to get my stupendously long legs into said wetsuit. This would not be the stupendously long leg + wetsuit combination would pose a problem that day.

Once we got through the hurry up and wait...we all waddled to the the shuttles, and headed to the swim start...and once again got to hurry up and wait. We did get to see the Coast Guard piss off some full iron swimmers...but all for a good cause of rescuing another swimmer. And then it was FINALLY our turn to swim. I, for once, wasn't overly nervous about the swim. I've had some good swims lately...so I figured I wouldn't die.

What I really wasn't prepared for was how disgusting the salt water was going to be. Needless to say...it was gross...and ended up with some nausea. But the swim ended up going really well. Especially compared to my half swim at Kinetic in May...where I just about collapsed on the beach. So I have definitely come a long way since then. Who knew actually doing some strength training would help?

So I make it out of the water up the ladder...and over to the wet suit strippers...and my reaction (including eyes rolling about in my head) was..."HOLY SHIT!" So I get up...and attempt to start moving toward transition. And I realize that something is a little weird. Those things at the end of my feet...well...I'm not really sure they're there any more. So...literally everything that wasn't covered by neoprene...which because of those stupid, stupendously long legs...is about half way up my shins. So running...err...walking was a little difficult. But I finally start moving a little bit...and running actually doesn't feel too bad..when I'm not trying to trip and fall on my face.

Side note. I looked at the pictures my dad took during the race. He is now banned from ever taking race pictures EVER AGAIN! Me, half-naked, wet, and running is not as aesthetically pleasing as one might imagine. I have photographic proof this is true.

So I get into the changing tent...and take longer that I had probably initially imagined...mainly because I had to warm my feet up before I could, or would, get on my bike. So...I was on my bike. I actually saw my dad. Told him I couldn't feel my feet. And started off on the longest few hours of my life. Getting on the road...and getting passed by so many people...and realizing how slow I was...there was an array of thoughts going through my head. One of the main points was that I have such a great hope that one day I'm not going to suck at this...but clearly...I do...so why is it again that I'm doing this? I'm NEVER going to be able to do this. Well...there wasn't much room for that kind of a thought. Because it got much worse. Quickly.

After passing a few guys that were actually having a worse day than me. Including the guy with the broken clavicle. I realized something wasn't right. I'd try to shift...and my bike wouldn't shift. I'd shift again...it would jump 4 gears. For someone that is already uncomfortable on a bike...this was not a comforting feeling. But I continued on. Until the whole lack of shifting thing really started becoming a problem. I was devastated. I thought my day was over. On one hand I was almost relieved...but I didn't want to quit. This was actually eye opening for me. I was sitting on the side of the road waiting for the bike mechanic...and thought I was done. And realized that I really wanted to continue. So the bike guys get there. Compliment my bike choice. And in 2 minutes...my bike was fixed. When he held up my bike and said "there you go" I was shocked. I think my eyes bugged out of my head. My day wasn't over! Yet. So I continued on.

Not long after that...I realized that all of my mechanical problems were not over yet. I was having some major problems switching from the small ring to the big ring. Awesome. This makes going down hill REALLY fun. But I was still working with it. I had taken a couple of rest breaks...which helped my muscles relax...but it got the the point where taking a break wasn't giving me any relief from the pain. I had a nice little cry. It was actually a very emotional time for me. I didn't want to quit...but I was in so much pain I just didn't see how I could continue. Once I made the turn off of 421...and saw the sign for mile 30...and I nearly cried. I'd made it over half way through the bike leg. But the further I got...the more pain I was in. Oh...and I got passed by the sweep vehicle. That's not a very comforting thing. When it came to the turn where the half course splits from the full course. I turned into a parking lot and I broke down. Hard core. One of the Sag vehicles pulled in with me...and they tried to comfort me...and get me to eat and drink (which I knew wasn't the problem). And I was done. Just done. After a few minutes...we all got in the truck and headed back to the battleship.

I found my dad. Saw Ed. Cried some more. Ed told me not to give up...and when I told him it only made me want to work harder...that earned me a fist bump. I definitely needed a shower...because I was a little crusty all over. We decided to head back to the hotel. And I never made it back to cheer...because I passed out. Hard core. No joke. 2 days later...and I've slept a total of 19 hours since then. And I've even gone running. And aquaphored the appropriate places. And survived the long road trip home...including a stop at an awesome BBQ place. Let's just say Ralph knows how to make good BBQ.

So it's definitely going to be a long year. But I'm not going to give up just yet. :)

Race Jitters and Such...

2010-11-07T09:00:00.000-05:00

Stupid athlete guide. If I hadn't found it while cleaning Friday evening...and then thought it was a good idea to look through it yesterday morning...I wouldn't be in the predicament that I'm in now.

Ok...so I would still be freaking out about the race...but since the athlete guide is what really set me off...I'm blaming that. Oh...if only I hadn't thought that it was a good idea to plan ahead and figure out what I'd need for next weekend.

Next weekend. And I say this with the most sincerity imaginable. Hooooo....lleeee.....shit.

What was I thinking? How could attempting to cross 70.3 miles in one day while swimming, biking, and running be a good idea. 4 months after surgery no less. Less than 2 months since I stopped traveling about the country for work.

This is a bad idea...and I'm an idiot. What kind of nerve do I have thinking that *I* could *possibly* be able to do this.

I've come to terms with the fact that realistically I really may not be able to finish. I did just have to start over working out 3 and a half months ago. And for 2 months after that, I didn't get to focus on working out like I should have been.

Never mind the fact that last weekend I ran 12 miles and spent 3 hours on my bike. Never mind the fact that I've had a couple (yes...only a couple) of good swim work outs. Never mind the fact that I've actually been able to tell a difference in my strength, and how some of my workouts are actually feeling good instead of making me feel like I'm dieing. Never mind the fact that all of the previous statements about my inability to do this goes through my head BEFORE EVERY FREAKING RACE!!

In the logical part of my mind, I see what's going on...I think. As I said, I have come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to finish all 70.3 miles. I'm going to get as far as I possibly can...and know that everything from this point forward is all getting me through next November.

The race jitters are something completely different. The race jitters don't make me think that I won't be able to finish. The race jitters make me think I won't be able to start. And I've specifically narrowed it down to where the problem lies. The bike. At least...that's what it's been for every triathlon I've ever come up to. Except maybe the race where I relayed and only did the bike. For some reason...I don't remember being very nervous before that. Huh.

Anyway...not the point. Right now...I'm looking at my new bike. He's gorgeous...and now that the fit is better...I'm sure it will be more comfortable. Especially now that my saddle isn't all wonky. But there's something about the bike leg in general that makes me freak out. But there's something about getting on the bike that just makes me ridiculously nervous...to the point where I don't want to go for a bike ride. And I have no clue why. Yes...I've crashed. But so have a lot of other people that get back in the saddle immediately. One way or another...over the next year...Cedric and I are going to have to come to terms. Somehow...we're going to need to figure out what the problem is...and fix it.

It very well could be that I'm just not comfortable because I haven't spend enough time actually riding. Which is very possible. Unfortunately...I live in the middle of DC...which makes me not want to ride because I value my life. And the traffic here scares the shit out of me even when I'm in a car. Let alone, out there for the world to slam into me and make me go flying.

During my bike fit on Wednesday...Ken told me that he wanted me to leave being absolutely comfortable on my bike. I didn't want to go into detail...but the thought crossed my mind that if he could really make me comfortable on my bike...I'd probably love him forever. And I'm not just talking about how he fixed my saddle fit my "stupendously long legs." Something makes me think I'm not there yet. Maybe when my new stem comes in.

And now that it's cold outside...that makes me want to go for a ride even less.

I hate being cold. I dealt with marathon training last year in the cold because marathon training on a treadmill would have killed me. And this year...I'm buying different clothes. Something that will not only keep me warm...but also block out the wind. That should help. But really...when it's cold outside, I want to curl up next to a fire with a cup of hot chocolate and read a book.

And preferably...I would like it to be that cold exactly once a year so I can get it out of my system...and then it can go back to 70 degree weather. Thankyouverymuch.

For all intents and purposes...I should hate swimming. I suck at swimming. No really, I do. I'm ridiculously slow, and every time I race...everything I have learned about form goes completely out the window...and I just try to survive any way possible. But I don't. I don't enjoy swimming when I'm tired...because I feel even more sluggish...so most days when I've had a long day at work...and I'm already really tired...I skip the pool. But I am committed to not stopping swimming all together this year over the winter like I did last year. I had gotten so much better by the end of the season last year...and then...again...had to start over. And I really don't hate swimming. It actually relaxes me in most cases. I think over the next year...as long as I keep up going to the pool...I'll be fine.

But now...back to the issue at hand. In the past...before every race that I've been this nervous...I've successfully crossed the finish line. And I've actually crossed in a rather ok form. But knowing that...still isn't going to help me this week. I foresee a long week...where I might be a little cranky...and will eventually be unable to pack. Part of me wants to hide in my apartment and not go anywhere or do anything. But I do know that that will do nothing for my race jitters, and the depression that will set in if I don't leave. Besides...I have to get out and go to work. And I am forcing myself to get out. I have to...or I will continue to go crazy.

One last thought before I completely kick myself in the ass and get going with my day (which actually started several hours ago). It's about the races where I haven't been nervous before...or just didn't really care about. Savageman last year...I thought "no big deal" before. And got my ass kicked hard. Giant Acorn this year...well...I haven't talked much about that...and my inability to finish that race. Part of me remembers that I was there to have fun...and finishing wouldn't have been fun. Part of me beats myself up thinking about how I quit. So...therefore...I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about it. I probably should...but that is definitely for another time.

Something weird is going on.

2010-10-27T10:42:00.000-04:00

I've finally been living at home for a few weeks in a row...with no travel plans in sight...unless you count that one little race in a few weeks...or that one holiday that comes toward the end of the year. You know...the one with all of the presents...that makes my mom's house look like it should dress the pages of Good Housekeeping.

That's not the weird part.

When I finally started living here again, I knew that I would have a lot of training to do. And I knew that I needed to have a slightly different approach if I really wanted to be as successful as I am hoping to be.

So...I started waking up early in the morning...the alarm has been going off at a stunning 4:15am on weekdays. In theory, this is so I can fit one workout in before work, and one in after work. For the first couple of weeks, I thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. I just could not get motivated to work out in the morning. I was able to get in a couple of strength sessions in the morning...but that was it. But I would still stick with getting up that early. My hope was that if I kept up with that, eventually, I'd be able to get motivated to work out.

Well...something weird, very weird, happened last Wednesday. My alarm went off, and my eyes sprung open...and I nearly hopped out of bed. I was able to run, AND do strength training in the morning...and still get to work early. And I was bouncing off the walls.

Surely...this couldn't last. Right?

No seriously...this can't last. I can't actually be...perky...in the morning. No. No. No. I refuse to be perky. At least not in the morning.

But it's happening. I was tired on Thursday morning...but I worked out. And other than bonking on Saturday during my 10 mile run, which I admit was purely out of stupidity on my part...work outs have been going really well. Like, exceptionally well.

And I've been waking up in the morning and working out on a consistent basis. Not including last Friday which is rest day...I'm on a role of 5 days. Totally unprecedented in the world of Johanna.

So things are definitely going well here. Work has been ridiculously busy...but in a good way...I think. And I've come to terms with Beach2Battleship. I'm going to have the most awesome Sherpa ever...my dad...and I'm going to try to do as much as I can. I woke up in a panic the other night worried about the swim...but I had a good swim last night, and I'm feeling better. I still don't think I'll actually be able to finish the entire race...but I am hoping to at least finish the swim and bike. Everything is looking toward next November.

Oh...and did I mention once I moved home I cut back on caffeine too? Yeah...I am attempting to keep myself to 1 cup of coffee a day. I figured if I was jumping off a cliff in an attempt to take care of myself...I might as well do it right. It's been an adjustment...but I'm surviving.

I just can't believe how much energy I've been feeling lately...especially in the morning. I've NEVER been one to work out in the morning...but I think that's changing. All for the better.

Holy $#!% I said it!

2010-10-09T11:31:00.000-04:00

The phrase "I'm training for an Ironman" actually came out of my mouth yesterday.

I know it's over a year away, but I feel like the training efforts I'm putting in right now is all leading up to racing IM Arizona next November. I have a lot of work to do between now and then...and I'm hoping getting an early start is going to help me not die during the race next year.

And I'm not actually talking about really dieing...I'm talking about bonking. Not feeling like moving forward anymore. Or not being able to move forward anymore.

I want to be able to get more workouts in. This...on top of all of my other goals this year. To really be able to fit all of the workouts in, I need to get up early in the morning, and get a workout in before work. I tried this past week...and I got up...but there were a couple of mornings where I just couldn't motivate myself in enough time to work out. I did a couple of strength workouts...but that's it. I need to do more. I've never been one to work out in the morning. I've never been able to keep it up...mainly because I like being awake while I work out.

So, in that effort...I'm going to do what I normally do when I need some accountability. I'm going to write it down.

Today...I ran 8 miles in 1:41. That's a little longer than I used to be able to do it, but I'm hoping to speed things back up. I did get a speed run in this week, and I still don't like doing them, but I know that it's helpful in running faster.

The other part of this is that I need to lose some weight. I know how to do this. Clearly, I've done it in the past. But it's not easy. I've also had a weakness for food for, well, forever. I made a decision last night that I'm going to take a break from Peanut Butter. Not an easy thing for me to do. I love peanut butter. I love it a little too much. It's a hot button food for me, and one that I can't stop eating.

And the third piece of this is that I'm buying a new bike. I'm actually going shopping after I finish this. I'm not positive...but I think I'm going to switch from my tri bike, that I've never really been comfortable riding, to a road bike that I'm quite sure will have better control. A few months ago when I went window shopping, I was foolishly talked out of even riding a road bike. Well, I'm not going to let that happen again. So I'm going to look, but we'll see how that goes. I'm also looking for a bike that I can just ride around the city, that isn't my race bike. This, I'm hoping will get me more comfortable on a bike in general, and therefore more willing to spend more time training.

So...there it is. It starts now.

Birthday Celebrations, or Lack Thereof

2010-09-28T11:17:00.000-04:00

Well, it's almost my birthday. Birthday's were always a big deal for our family growing up. We always had a big family dinner with lots of presents. And this wasn't just for the kids...it was for everyone. Birthday's had always been a big deal for my mom's family growing up, and she made a big deal for the kids too.

9 years ago, on my birthday, something happened that changed that day for...well...forever. It's something that I have grown to not want to talk about. Maybe it's less that I don't want to talk about it...it's more that I don't want the look of pity that always follows when I tell someone about it.

My grandparents had been sick for a long time...years. And on my 20th birthday my Grandma died. I will never forget the look on my mom's face when she walked in the door of my college apartment to tell me.

The following year, we had a celebration...a huge family party. We tried to make it a good day. But since then, it's been really hard. It's especially been hard on my mom. It was her mom that died...and I know she misses her. I miss her too.

Part of me feels selfish and guilty for saying this...but...I want my day back. I don't ever want to forget my Grandma. I just don't want her death forever associated with my birthday.

I am not normally a person who makes a huge deal out of holidays...except Christmas and my birthday. Christmas is obvious...and my birthday started when I was young. That was always the one day that was mine. We all had to eat what I wanted. I got the type of cake I wanted. People gave me presents. It was a good day for me. And maybe as an adult...less focus should be put on things like that. But I'm tired of the two things now being intertwined.

My friends have been great about celebrating my birthday. But the one phone call that day that should be so wonderful...the call from my mom...the woman who gave birth to me has forever been changed. She hasn't been able to get through a birthday phone call with me without crying...and more often then not, that conversation has turned into an argument.

So...I want my day back. I want that to be a good day. I can't change what happened. But I want my day back.

Wish List

2010-09-20T19:35:00.000-04:00

Well, it's now less than 2 weeks away from my birthday, and always, around this time of year, I like to reflect back on the past year, and see how the year has been. An accounting of sorts.

So...let's take a look at the last year...so far:

*Finished the 2009 race season with the Army Ten Miler, meeting my time goal. +
*Spent Thanksgiving by myself -
*Realized that spending a holiday by yourself isn't really a bad thing +
*Spent Christmas at home with ridiculously cold weather +
*Ran my first ever marathon +
*Directly after marathon, I got the plague, and it took months to recover ---
*Finished my second full tri +
*Swam a relay for a half iron +
*Got sick, which was kind of a little painful -
*Went through a procedure that ended up being unnecessary -
*Was still sick, and went through more tests, still unable to figure out what was wrong -
*Finally figured out what was wrong...but needed surgery to fix the problem -
*Had to spend my first night in the hospital since birth -
*Recovered from surgery well, and was able to start working out again +
*Arrrgust arrived at work, and I spent 6 straight weeks traveling and training ---

+7
-12

Well...the minuses have won it this year...but not by a ton. And I always look for the positives that can come out of a situation. Some good things have happened this year...but it definitely feels like the negatives have won this year...by a landslide. It just feels like a rough year.

Yet, at the same time...I'm not looking forward to turning 29. I'm excited about the start of a new year...and what that new year might bring. But there's something about turning 29 that I just don't want to do. Maybe it's just getting another year older. Maybe it's the fact that this will be my last year in the 20's.

I should be excited...I'm just finding it very hard to do so.

I was thinking this afternoon on my walk home what I could possibly tell anyone that asked what I wanted for my birthday. I couldn't think of one thing that anyone could give me. I don't need material possessions. I can buy myself new running shoes, or anything else I might need. I'd like a new bike...but that's a bit more than I can ask for for my birthday.

There are things that I want. But it's not material possessions.

I think at the end of the day...I'd just like a better year next year. And if anyone can promise me that, I'll love you forever. But realistically...it's just not something anyone can promise.

But oh, how I wish it were.

Savageman: TakeTwo

2010-09-20T11:17:00.000-04:00

Well, I'll keep this brief. I decided to relay Savageman for the second year in a row. The run, of course. Last year, I crossed the finish line in tears and came away from the weekend thinking that that course and I had unfinished business.

I knew that it was an ambitious goal. But I thought that I would be able to do it. Never mind the fact that I just had surgery 2 months before. Never mind the fact that I've been traveling for 6 weeks. Never mind the fact that I've had to walk up every hill I've ran lately because if I don't I was pushed into an asthma attack.

I ran the 10K on Saturday...and knew what the run course would be like. I ran it twice the year before. It was challenging. I didn't feel like I was really warmed up until I was almost 5 miles in...which makes sense because I don't get warmed up until I've ran 5 miles. So after the feeling that I was going to die...and trudging up the Fire Tower climb...I thought that the only appropriate way to celebrate surviving the 10K on that course was to run a half mary.

That makes sense...right?

It's only one of the hardest race courses in the world.

There's NOTHING that could go wrong here.

HA!

After finishing the 10K...I was in pain. My shin splints were better than I imagined...but I also had calf cramps like I've never had before.

Saturday morning, I felt ok. Better than I thought I would. But just ok. The shins were sore. The legs were sore in general. And I generally didn't want to run that course again. But I was there. And I had a team. So of course I was going to do it.

Starting the run felt better than the day before. I actually kind of already felt warmed up. That's about the only good thing I had going for me. My stomach was upset...but I think it was more nerves than anything. Coke while running was a very good thing. Close to the end of the first lap, my left hip flexor started hurting. And I really began thinking "this is a really stupid idea."

I survived the second lap. I walked a lot. But I survived. I also realized that I need to change a few things about my training. I wasn't trained enough...and I'm tired of dieing during races. I'm not exactly sure what the answer is...but I have a few ideas. But I did decide during the race that I'm done with that course. No more unfinished business. I tried 3 races there...and got my ass handed to me all 3 times. I'm done.

At least I didn't cry going over the finish line this time...

Throwing in the Towel

2010-09-15T22:42:00.000-04:00

Instead of turning to one of my friends to talk to, because I am too scared to open up about this, I am doing what I do...which is write. Even my bff, whom I love and adore, I don't feel strong enough to say this to...even though I know she loves me...and knows how crazy I am, or am not. I guess I've just had a hard time opening up about some things. And it feels weird. I guess because I feel like other people will think I'm crazy.

I'm throwing in the towel on a personal life...at least a relationship...ever. It's not that I don't want that...because I do. I want to get married and have a family. I just don't think it's in the cards for me. So I'm giving up on the hope that it's ever going to happen.

Part of me wants to blame a mis-spent youth. Not that I was wild and crazy, because I wasn't. But I wasted a long time on people that didn't deserve me. I've been quite open with a lot of people about my past. I've run the gamut on eating disorders, and tried to kill myself with all of them. I've had the lowest self-esteem possible. And I've allowed myself to let other people make me feel worthless.

I was in a 4 year relationship with a bad guy. The worst type imaginable. He was the guy that everyone loved because he was such a nice guy in public. But behind closed doors, he was a much different person. Aside from just doing all of the normal "bad boyfriend" behavior like never sending me flowers, or sitting on his ass all day while I worked my ass off to pay the bills...it went much deeper and was much worse. He made me feel worthless, and guilty, and that everything was wrong because of me. When he would explode on me, and I do mean explode...it was always my fault...and I always had to seek him out to apologize. I would often find him sulking like a child sitting on the floor of the closet. And his reason for exploding was always that it was my fault. I had pushed him there.

I couldn't talk about it while I was with him. My friends all thought he was this great guy, and hoped that we would get back together. Until I finally was able to tell them what he was really like. I realized after I had broken up with him, and I had had time to heal, that I was like a battered woman. He had only hit me one time...and I told him that if he ever did it again...I would kill him. I think, I hope, that that is the reason why it never went further. But that didn't stop him from putting me down every chance he got.

Relationships since then have been a disaster. When, infrequently, they do happen, I have seen a similar trend. Not that any of them have lasted long enough for it to get that bad. The longest relationship since then has been 3 weeks long, and that only lasted that long because my friends urged me on.

I have notoriously fallen for the wrong guys. Not that I feel like I've really met any that wouldn't have turned into the right one. But it's scary.

My dating history, recently...not so recently...has been pathetic. I've been on one date this year...and it was excruciating. I got asked on another...but he canceled an hour before we were supposed to meet.

Don't get me wrong. I know what I have to offer. I'm smart, I'm funny, I have a job that I love most of the time...and I'm cute damn it. I'm driven. I can also be persistent, and if you don't really know me, my smart ass personality can sometimes come off as me just being a bitch. But that's me. And I'm not about to change who I am. I am a catch, damn it!

I am lonely. I ache to be held again. And I want a person.

I have great friends and family. And they've been there for me. They have. But most of them are married, or in a relationship. And they're really not just mine.

I want those things. I want them more than anything. But what I don't want is the pain from the hope that one day those things are going to happen...and the pain from them not happening yet. So I'm throwing in the towel. I'm going to cry about it. Mourn the hope that I might some day not be in this situation. And hopefully not worry about it. I'll still be lonely. I'll still lie in bed at night wishing that I had someone warm next to me. And I'll forget all of the comments about me still being young, and to not give up. Well...I turn 29 in a few weeks...and I'm quickly approaching the age where women start to have real problems having families. So I'm going to focus on everything else. Focus on work, and on training, and taking care of myself. Because I need to take care of myself...and no one else is going to do it for me.

I just give up...on that.

The MOO

2010-09-15T14:40:00.000-04:00

I'm not even really sure where to begin. It was quite a weekend, quite a day...and there's a lot that I came away with.

After a very long night in airport terminals, or on an airplane, I finally arrived in Madison...and finally checked into my hotel...and most importantly showered. I ended up meeting up with Erin, and worked on our strategic cheering plan for Sunday. Then Saturday evening, we had the team dinner...which completely shouldn't be called "dinner" because it happened at 4pm. But that's beside the point.

I figured I had come all this way to cheer for everyone, so I might as well do it right, so I woke up ridiculously early to meet the team to walk to the race start. At first, there weren't that many people around...but shortly, that definitely changed. Especially in the good spectator areas.

Once we saw the swim start, and also took the time to be amazed at the pro who was easily a quarter of a mile ahead of everyone else...Debbie and I decided more caffeine was needed...so we found a non-Starbucks coffee shop that was open and got some amazing coffee...then made our way back to the course. We ended up in a couple of places...but out of sheer chance (and necessity of finding a bathroom) we ended up being able to watch everyone come out of transition part 1.

After seeing most of the team coming out of transition, we made our way back to the hotel, and met up with Erin...and we headed out to the bike course. Again, by chance, we caught several people at mile 35. Again...quite awesome. We cheered. We made people laugh. It's even quite possible we made some people cry.

Did I mention the costumes? Yes...we were definitely the crazy ones dressed as devils.

We stayed at mile 35 for quite a while, but then decided it was time to move on. I'm not sure what mile we ended up at next...but we saw basically the same group of people...basically because we were looking for Erin's bf (now fiance) Tim.

By the third place we stopped, again, seeing some of the same people...they were starting to look for us...because, of course, we weren't just cheering for our friends...we were cheering for everyone. As a fellow spectator put it best: "If you can make someone smile at mile 70 of this thing, you're doing something good."

Then it was on to the team cheering section where we were more interested in food than anything else because we were hungry...and needed a bit of a rest.

After an almost nap...we moved back into town on the run course, and made it back just in time to see the same group on the run course.

I'm not going to lie...it was a long day. I woke up close to 3am, and didn't get back to bed until 2 the next morning. A large portion of that time was spent on my feet, screaming, clapping, and ringing a cowbell. I have shin splints, a sunburn, and I don't think my vocal chords have yet recovered.

But what really didn't hit until the next day was what I had really seen take place. I saw several of my friends finish one of the hardest things a human being can put their bodies through. It wasn't just Sunday...because for many of them, this process started a year ago. And to see them for a few seconds during that day will stay with me forever.

I was a little surprised that I didn't get more emotional on Sunday. I did good. I think I was so focused on cheering for everyone that it didn't really sink in what was happening around me. Then Monday morning, I watched a video of Mark crossing the finish line...and I was done. I cried then. I cried on the way to the hotel. I'm about to cry now just thinking about it.

From those of us that cheered that day, I have heard of 2 different reactions to the day. One being "I can't wait to do one myself!!" and the other being "This is all the proof I need to tell me that I never want to do this, ever."

Guess which category I fall into?

Yeah...the first.

But we probably already knew that. I've been thinking for a long time that next year would be the year for one. And I'd been thinking about doing Beach2Battleship...for no other reason that the timing would be about right, and I've always wanted to do that race. Plus, since it's not in Mexico, I could get my family to be there...most likely. Now, after experiencing the team effort at MOO...I'm thinking Arizona. Though not the official team race...there are a lot of other people doing the race...and I'm liking that idea.

It is going to be a really long year, and I've seen a lot of what I'm going to go through...though I have absolutely no idea how it's going to feel personally. I'm excited and terrified at the same time...which is probably a good thing. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I stay healthy throughout this process...or at least as healthy as I can.

To finish this whole thing off...I have to say I'm still incredibly happy with my decision to go. I've been thanked by many people that raced that day, and by Ed. And to me, it was the least I could do. I didn't do the hard part...but I hope that my small contribution to the cause helped my friends, and strangers alike, to achieve their goal.

My BFF is a Genius.

2010-09-10T22:52:00.000-04:00

Yes...we did already know this. But there are now even more reasons why.

Let me back up just a little bit. I had a weird ass dream last night. I was el preggo...gave birth quite quickly...and then had a couple of moments where I was taking care of the little one.

To a single girl with no foreseeable prospects for anything like that in the near future...to say the least...I was freaked out. Freaked out to the point where I had to look up what my dream meant. Not that I really think dream analysis is a bunch of hooey...I just don't really have much of an opinion on the matter. And as a result...don't know much about it. So once I did my brief research...I emailed my BFF...who actually does spend a bit of time on this subject.

We've come up with a solution...and honestly...the solution isn't as weird as I initially thought. In fact...it actually makes much sense.

Here's what we've got:

PREGNANCY: signifies an embryonic stage of a specific type of awareness or enlightenment. May point to the beginning formulation of a plan or idea.

PREGNANCY TEST: refers to a question as to whether or not this is a good time to start a new venture or beginning.

CHILDREN: connote a stage of acceptance and innocence; a belief in possibilities and one's dreams.

MOTHER: characterizes a nurturing aspect; may represent personal real time associations.

HARD LABOR (which I did not see but it's still significant): signifies great personal efforts applied to changing one's life.

Anyone that's somewhat familiar with the past few months of my life is also probably aware that I've been daydreaming about relaxation...and a less stressful life.

Well...I'm definitely not ready to completely uproot my life, quit my job (again) and move across the country (though I do love Seattle). I also know that right now is not the right time to be making decisions like this. But something is definitely needed.

For a very long time I've had a hard time relaxing. I have felt selfish whenever I do anything just for myself. And I've definitely been a little too type A for a little too long. I've used the time that I work out as my "me" time. And though that's really good for working off frustration...it's not exactly relaxing.

So where my BFF is really a genius is her idea. She's doing it for herself...and I'm going to start doing it myself. Once a month (I haven't picked what day of the month I want yet) schedule some time just for myself. Something for me. A pedicure, or massage...or whatever else I want to do. It seems so simple...but yet...so perfect.

I have other things that I want to do too. I have goals for this year...race goals especially. For the year I've had...they're lofty. But I *WILL* get 70.3 in this year. And I'm making a commitment to actually...you know...stick to a training schedule...and not come up with excuses to skip workouts. Unless I accidentally sleep in. I'm thinking if my body (that hasn't slept past 6am in over 2 years) needs to sleep until 8:30am...it probably has a good reason. And then I'll still get my work out in.

I'm also, now, at the end of the hellish 6 weeks. This weekend is mine. Well...mine and everyone doing IM MOO. But there will be no work. And for that, I am very excited. Oh...and it looks like I'm coming back to Seattle in a couple of weeks. But I'm ok with that...because I really do like it here.

Change is a hard thing. But sometimes, change is also a necessary thing.

I thought of something today

2010-09-08T21:41:00.000-04:00

I've been living in DC now for almost 2 years exactly. The circumstances in which I moved to DC weren't the greatest. I was in a job that was going nowhere, and hanging out with people that created way too much drama, and way too much trouble.

When I moved to DC, life changed. I feel like I grew up, and really fit into living in the city. I abhorred driving, Country music, and bright colored clothing (anything lime green excluded, of course). I have fully been living the city life style, completely down to going to work far too early, working far too many hours, and fairly fast paced. Well...I have, for a long time, had a problem relaxing. I feel like if I'm not accomplishing something useful, I'm slacking, and therefore, a horrible person. It's a type A thing.

Not only have I been day-dreaming of opening up a B&B...baking and decorating...I've been visiting small towns. I grew up in a small town...and I think for the past couple of years, I've resisted anything and everything small town. Refusing to accept anything that wasn't from my city, and snubbing my nose at small town things...like everyone knowing everyone...and local grocery stores...and commutes that last less than an hour.

As I was driving to my session this morning, I realized that upon moving to DC, things changed for me. And that's probably what I needed at that point in time. But I think I need to get back to my roots just a little bit. It's time. Due to a couple of song suggestions that I desperately needed for my Road Trip play list, I was re-introduced to Country music. And though it's not something that I'll ever listen all the time (then again...there isn't one type of music I listen to ALL the time) I have definitely remembered that I actually do like it.

I'm not saying that I'm ready to leave DC and move back to my home town. Uh...no thank you. Been there, done that. I'm definitely not going to forget many of the things that I've grown to appreciate about living in the city. I really do like living there. I'm definitely not going to start drinking Bud Light. I do like really good beer. Mmm...beer.

But there must be a compromise somewhere. There has to be...right?

So...

2010-09-08T20:55:00.000-04:00

...yeah.

Great start...huh? :)

Clearly, I know how to lose weight. Been there. Done that. I just don't like needing to do so again. And I definitely need to do so again. I lost some when I was sick...but not a lot, and definitely not enough to counter the amount of muscle that I lost. Plus, with traveling as much as I have been, and eating like crap...I've gained...well...I'm not sure how much. But there has definitely been a gain.

I've been this out of shape before...but what's more frustrating now is that I've been in much better shape. I've had a lot more muscle...and now I have to try to get it back. Before, I was just happy with the small amount of muscle I was gaining because it was more than I'd ever had before.

What's more is that I'm impatient. Terribly impatient. I want to have all of that muscle back...plus some more...NOW.

As I said...I clearly know how to lose weight...but I've been traveling a lot lately, and it's a little difficult to eat well while on the road. Plus, I like food. And I feel like I'm just now getting back to the point where I should be with work outs.

Side note, I had really awesome grilled salmon for dinner. Served with a lemon wedge...and my fingers (even after a few washings) still smell like lemon. Mmm.

I know that it's going to come back...and it's going to come back soon. But in the mean time...I am definitely not happy with how I look right now. I won't go into grave detail...but it's not pretty.

I'm sure when I get home, and back to life as normal...or better yet...life as I'd really like it to be...then I should be ok. I know I haven't been drinking enough water lately either. I've been so good at that for so long, and being tired and cranky apparently makes me not want to drink water. Ok...drinking 87 cups of coffee or diet coke a day probably effect that as well. But sometimes you need a little pick me up.

I just know that I really don't want to see my scale for a very, very long time.

The end is near-ish.

2010-09-06T23:08:00.000-04:00

I'm currently starting my sixth, and hopefully final, week of traveling...at least for a while. Personally...I wasn't really looking forward to losing my 3 day weekend to travel 3000 miles away from home...but I'm beginning to have a change of heart.

The journey West started far too early this morning...because it is either ridiculously difficult (meaning an extremely long day) or extremely expensive (still an extremely long day) to get from one coast to the other. So right away...not something I'm overly looking forward to. But as we were getting ready to land, and we got out of the cloud that kind of freaked me out (because we were in it for a really long time) I saw Seattle. Really for the first time. I've flown through Seattle before...but was in a middle seat flying in, and couldn't really see anything...and flying out was worried that the 6 month preggo Erin was going to puke all over me. So really this was the first time I got a good look at the city.

As we got closer to the airport...something weird happened. I started smiling. That's definitely not something I've done a lot of the past few months. As I got through the airport...and though I still have yet to find a clock in the Seattle Airport...it's definitely not a bad airport. So I get in my rental car...a Dodge Caliber this week...which...let me tell you is one step away from Fred Flinstone's happenin' ride...and would have more power if I stuck my feet through the floor and started running.

I definitely like Seattle. The overcast, rainy weather hasn't even bothered me. And really...the way I feel right now...I kind of want to buy a one way ticket, rent an apartment and buy a Subaru and a kayak :) It just feels very mellow...but at the same time...very...right...somehow.

It also helps that, thanks to the sponsor I have for this week...I'm staying in quite a nice hotel. It's actually a casino on an Indian reservation here...but by far the nicest hotel I've probably ever stayed in. As I sit here in my hotel provided bathrobe. Ok...so I might have felt a little like a bumpkin walking around in awe of the hotel room...but hey...the shower has 3 heads!

Shall I get started on the room service? The best room service meal ever. Ok...so most room service is kind of crap...but this was a good meal. Steak and eggs. Exactly what I needed.

I just looked at the clock on my computer (which is still on East Coast time) and realized that it's really 11pm for me. So I'm going to go to bed now. But I'm definitely looking forward to my week here in Washington.

My First Loaf of Bread

2010-09-02T20:32:00.000-04:00

So I've made a list of things I want to learn how to do. Baking homemade bread is on the list...and the first thing I've tried to accomplish.

I failed.

I do not like to fail. At all.

Ok...so it tasted ok...but it was a failure. It was flat, and not very bread-like.

I know that it's a process, and it's something that needs to be learned. But I had such high hopes that my first loaf of bread was going to turn out perfect.

Ok...so it didn't. But I learned some things. As always. Hopefully the next loaf won't turn out so bad.

I mean...I like to bake. And I've got some skills. Not that I like to brag about it...but...you know...people have said some nice things before. Cookies especially...I've got mad skills there. I'm trying to remember the first solo batch of cookies I ever baked. And it's a little difficult because that was probably about 20 years ago. I'm sure they didn't turn out perfect. I know the first cake I baked from scratch was a flop. It happens. You learn. You move on. You bake better things.

But I will not get discouraged. I will try again.

So...here's what's on the list:
Bread (obviously)
Strawberry Jam
Olive Tampenade
Rosemary Lemon Chicken

I'm sure I'll come across more things...but that's on the list right now. Hopefully the next loaf of bread will turn out a little better. I might need some help eating some bread over the next few weeks.

I made a grown woman cry.

2010-09-01T13:43:00.000-04:00

And other assorted tales from the road.

I've wanted to detail some of the things I've learned from the last month and a half while traveling about the country. I've traveled to a lot of different places, with completely different cultures...none of them being home to me. This includes the week I spent in DC. That didn't even seem normal to me.

So...let's go back to the beginning of time. Ok...not the beginning of time...that would take too long, and too much therapy to get through. Let's start with 5 weeks ago when I went to Kentucky. This was not a good start to my ARRRRRRGust. I was in complete culture shock. I flew in to Huntington, WV, and right away, I could tell there was a different feel for the area. The airport was very small, only 3 "gates" which were really sliding glass doors that you walked to and from the plane on the actual tarmac. The baggage claim was literally 15 feet long, and it still took almost a half hour for our luggage to re-appear. But it finally did, and I headed over to the rental car counter. When I got there, the 15 year old (kidding...maybe) that they had staffing the counter asked me for my license. When I handed him my DC license, he took one look at it, then me, then asked "so...uh...what brings you to town?"

As I drove to my hotel, I got completely freaked out. I grew up in a really small town, and I've traveled to many places, but this is the first time I really felt like a fish out of water. Think stereotypical coal mining town, and you've about got it. I found my hotel, and it was quite clear that I was in THE nice hotel with THE nice restaurant attached to it. I called my mom, still completely freaking out. I had no idea how I would survive this place...and I had to be there to deliver 3 days of sessions! I ordered room service. Amazingly (and thankfully) they had Blue Moon. This is pretty much the only way I survived the next few days.

The next day when I met my participants that I'd be working with for the next few days, I knew that it was going to be memorable. Let's think 80's hair, 80's clothes, and really deep southern accents. Even my friends/family from Kentucky felt sorry for me for having to visit that area. I wish I had gotten a better warning before I arrived. But I can't say that it was all completely negative. The group was really nice, and they definitely welcomed me. In fact, the sponsor and I talked about me going back next year to deliver other sessions. To be honest, I'd actually willingly go. The reason being that at the end of our 3 days together, a lot of participants thanked me for what I'd done, and a couple even gave me hugs.

I survived the trip back to DC, and even made my connection with enough time to pee and grab lunch. Whew...I'm back in DC for a week!

I spend the following week working with one of our contractors who used to work in the DCPS system for nearly 40 years, and has been a trainer with our company for 7 years. I learned that week that you can work in the field for that long, but you can still learn something from a "kid." I actually taught her something...and I learned some presentation skills from her, but content...well...I already knew. My lack of Early Childhood background had made me feel like I didn't know what I was doing...but seeing that I knew just as much on the subject as she did made me feel pretty darn good. DC was a rough week...and sadly I don't have much positive to say about it. A lot of crap happened that I still don't want to talk about, preferring to leave it in the past. Short story, I was made to feel like I was stupid and didn't know how to do my job, and some new materials that were just handed to me got stolen. DC burnt me out. But hey...I got to sleep in my own bed. Oh...and I was chosen to deliver a presentation on something I had no idea about the night before I was supposed to deliver it. And I kicked ass at that.

So there's that.

Next up...Wisconsin. North-Western Wisconsin. Wisconsin is exactly what you think it is. Small towns with a lot of corn fields. Driving through made me feel like I was back home. It was quick though. I was there to deliver 2 days, and then would immediately be flying to Ohio. The session in Wisconsin went fairly well. One of the most notable things was that there was a HUGE fail with the GPS. I typed in the address exactly how I had been given it, and it took me 7 miles out of my way. Had it not been for my dad, I would have been completely lost. But I survived.

On to Ohio...2 more days. I get to my hotel at 11pm, and realize that the cold I thought I was getting had officially set in. I did not want to be there. I was sick, and tired, and really sick. The first day of the session, I was to deliver to 80 people in a room that could potentially hold 500...so it was a big room, and they made me wear a microphone. This is weird...thinking back on this...it was only 2 weeks ago...but it seems like a lifetime ago. I survived day 1, and the people were, once again, really nice. Day 2, I had no voice, but everyone was really nice to me, and helped me out as much as they could. Fortunately, it wasn't a horrendously long day. I went back to the hotel and crashed. This is the part where I actually appreciate hotel cable.

So far, no horrible stories with participants. Of course, the pace was off for everyone like it always is. But no one had called me out on not having an Early Childhood background, or not having any classroom experience...which is good.

Next up...Salt Lake City. To that point, the most civilized place I've been. I'm in town a day early, which means I get to hang out and work from my hotel room, and relax a little bit. Which was actually possible. It was definitely needed. I even got a chance to visit the Mormon's in Temple Square. They were very nice, and I got some good pictures of Gus...even if I did feel like I was vandalizing the statues by putting a rubber duck on them :) But it was totally worth it. The session in SLC was good, it went really well, and I got to work with another trainer (though we didn't deliver in the same room) we were in the same building which was nice. Kind of moral support for one another. But it went really well, and overall, not many challenges. The main thing was that there was one participant who always talked, and annoyed everyone else. But I worked with it, and again, at the end of the session, I got hugs. Rock on! Days like that are also needed because they remind me of why I like doing this.

Ok...back from Salt Lake City, and I'm in DC for a few days! I actually make an appearance at my office...which I think everyone was shocked that I was there. They hadn't seen me for a month. That's actually not an exaggeration. There was actual some debate about where I would be heading this week. I knew that I would be going somewhere, but I had said that I'd only do the beginning of the week because my BFF is coming into town, and I need to spend some time with her. So first I was going to Washington, then I wasn't...I was going to Boston. Wait...then there's confusion there, and I might not be needed there. So the next day looked like this. I really just want to go to Boston, it'll be easier for me, and it will work with my schedule. Well...sorry...we don't want to send you to Boston, how about South Dakota...and sorry...this will totally screw up your plans. Oh wait...now you can go to Boston. Thanks!

So I've been in Boston this week. The Boston-ites are a little...well...different. Driving here is insane...but I have yet to get lost! It's not hard to navigate...but you really just need to forget all rules of the road that you were ever taught, cut off everyone, and only be concerned with getting where you need to be, and you'll be fine. The sessions here have gone ok...they just had a similar session less than a year ago...so they already know what they're talking about. There is 1 woman here though...wow...just wow. She's been a nervous Nelly the entire time, especially since I introduced the online part. She doesn't like change. She showed up early today and told me that she was really nervous and if I didn't explain everything in detail to her and walk her through really slow that she'd cry. Well...I did walk her through it, and she was picking everything up. When she'd ask what she needed to do, I'd start to explain it, and before I could get my entire explanation out, she would already be doing it. I re-assured her MANY times over the morning that she knew what she was doing...but she just wouldn't believe it. After her session was over this morning, I saw her walking through the building, crying. I didn't say anything then, but told one of the sponsors what I saw. When I was walking back in from getting my lunch...she walked in right before me. I asked her how she was doing, and she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. That really upsets me...but at the same time...I also know that it's not me. The people here know how she is, and have told me they understand. She'll be fine...she just doesn't think she will be. Well...that's not my problem. Sorry...but I'm not a hold your hand and tell you it'll be ok kind of girl. Never have been, never will be.

I found out when I got to the hotel in Boston that I'd be going to Washington State next week. At this point, I'm tired, and I'm ready to be at home for a while...but what am I going to do. I have thought that what is the point of having an office job if I don't get holiday's (this is the second holiday weekend I've lost this year to training). But what am I going to do? I'm on staff, and I really can't say no. So I'm going to Washington State next week to deliver 4 days of sessions, and then am flying directly to Wisconsin to cheer on my friends at IM MOO.

So let's see...short recap:

Kentucky...big hair and Southern accents, but really nice people.

Wisconsin...your typical Mid-Western small town.

Ohio...I don't remember because I was sick.

DC...not as nice as it sounds for being at home.

Salt Lake City...the prettiest place I've been so far...the mountains were a nice touch.

Boston...crazy people that cry...and have the stereotypical Baaaaaastaaaaaan accents.

My friends and co-workers are beginning to give up on my existence. I thought I was heading in the right direction on a couple of things before this all started...and now I think it's been screwed up because I haven't been there. I've tried to see my friends...but trying to fit everything in in the 24 hours I'm at home is nearly impossible...and I'm not sure why some things haven't worked out even though I've tried to make them happen. I miss my friends. I miss being able to plan more than a couple of days in advance...and not having to change plans at the last minute. I thought once I got home tonight that I'd really be home. Now that's changed. I really hope next week is it. I miss doing things from before all this happened. I want to go running or biking with my friends. I want to have time to see a movie, or go to dinner. I don't want to sleep my weekends away when I'm at home because I'm so exhausted.

I've also been thinking about a lot of things I want to do. I actually wrote out a list the other night. Granted...this list is extensive...and will probably take a lifetime to accomplish...but I have ideas. I want to bake really good home-made bread without the assistance of a bread maker. I want to learn how to make home-made strawberry jam. I want to have this really awesome wooden bench with over-stuffed pillows that I can curl up and read in. There's a lot more to the list...but a few things at a time...

In thinking back about what I've written...I had originally hoped it would be more funny...but that's definitely not the feeling that I'm getting afterward...and that's just depressing. Maybe I need more caffeine :)

The Last Minute...Not So Last Minute Trip to MOO

2010-08-30T08:21:00.000-04:00

Alright already...I'm going!!

For the last year, I've wanted to go to MOO. For no better reason than I just wanted to. I want to feel the inspiration that I know an IM race will deliver. I want to be there to cheer on my friends.

For the last year I've come up with excuses that finally just made no more sense. I think for a long time, I just couldn't wrap my head around making the plans to go. I always wanted to go, but for one, I didn't think I'd be able to afford it. And on another hand...I've been traveling lately. A lot. Who wants to travel even more when I don't have to?

Apparently, I do.

I've been thinking about everyone going for quite a while, and I've been jealous of everyone that's been going. And I kept telling myself that it would be really great to go. Then a few other people told me that I should make the trip...and still, I resisted.

Then, in a moment of procrastination, I checked into flights...in greater detail that I initially had. Huh...I could actually afford that. And look at that...there's actually still a cheap hotel room available. Hmm...

And still...I kept thinking to myself that it would be really great to go. And for some reason, I still resisted.

It's not like I don't have the vacation time.

And I can afford it.

And after the last month I've had, I deserve a little time off.

And I wouldn't have to work while I'm there.

And I really want to go.

All of a sudden...this little voice in my head said "so go."

So I'm going. At the end of the day...I know it's going to be a really short trip, in which I'm not really going to get to relax. But I know that I'm going to regret not going more than being a little more tired for a little longer.

So a couple of weeks from now, I'm going to wake up before the crack of dawn, trudge my way to my second home, the airport...and fly to Wisconsin to cheer on my friends and teammates.

Motivation

2010-08-29T08:56:00.000-04:00

It's been a strange year. Quite obviously, this is not a new theme. But it's been odd...and not the greatest year of my life. But I'm hoping, as I normally do, that something good will come of all of this crap.

The last month, I've been on the road, training for work. I was burnt out after week 2...and since then, I've just let myself get even further down in the dumps. It's been so easy to let myself get further and further down, that I have forgotten what happened directly before I started jet-setting all over the country. I forgot that I had spent 2 months being sick and recovering from surgery, and what I felt during that time.

This morning while I was spinning, I remembered. I'm pissed off at what happened. I'm pissed off that my body turned on me, and forced me to lay on the couch for so long, and let my body go to mush. I'm not talking about being pissed off in an "I hate the world" type of way. I'm talking about the constructive pissed off. Where I use that as motivation.

What's been happening? While on the road, it's so easy to be sad and lonely and use the excuse that I'm tired to not run or spin, or cut my workout short. It's been so easy to use that as an excuse. But I've forgotten. Forgotten that I like doing this. Forgotten that I don't like how it feels to be fat and lazy.

So what am I going to do? Well...try to remember that I have motivation to turn things around. And not use the excuse that I'm tired. The only place that excuse is worthy is after a long run or ride. Anywhere else, and it's just bullshit. I just need to remember that I'm pissed off. Pissed off in a good way. I'll tattoo it on my forehead if I need to. And that will work. I realized this about 10 minutes into my spin this morning. I was at that point where I started getting tired. My legs were starting to feel it. My sit bones started hurting. And I was ready to quit. Just stop. Then I remembered. I remembered to be pissed off. And it worked. Well...it worked for as long as it could possibly work. But at least I finished spinning for the amount of time I had hoped to finish.

70.3...here I come :)

Can't I Just Be Myself?!?

2010-08-26T20:56:00.000-04:00

AKA...you're a slimy man and I now feel like I should shower...again.

There's a guy in my building...who used to work in the office...and when I locked myself out of my apartment tonight...he was actually quite helpful. He called the guy that could let me in...and then let me hang out on his balcony with a glass of wine while we waited.

I've known him for a while...and what he did tonight was very nice...but at the same time...I was constantly reminded of one thing...he's a slimy guy who I wouldn't trust further than I could throw him. As we were waiting...he was asking what was going on...because clearly I was a little upset.

I told him what's been going on in my life...and when it came to the relationship part of my life (or lack thereof) everything he suggested was just...well...gross. Better yet...it wasn't me. He told me that I should always have one waiting for me when I come home from a trip...and in case he's not available...I should have a couple of back-ups. That's not me. It's just not.

He made me laugh...which in the situation...was needed...but at the same time...it was eye opening.

I realized a while ago that I'm a relationship person...and that whoever I end up with has to like me for myself. If I can't be myself around someone...or if someone doesn't like who I am...then they're clearly not the person for me.

I just hate when other people try to tell me what I need to do...when that's just not me.

Up in the Air: Changing Perspectives

2010-08-21T20:43:00.000-04:00

I don’t want to end up like George.

I’ve been traveling a lot lately. Too much really. To the point where I’m not sure what my normal life is (was) like anymore. I watched the movie Up in the Air a few months ago…and even then, there was a sense of déjà vu. It was creepy. I didn’t like it. I like it even less now.

For the past few weeks, my life has been lived in airports and crappy hotels, and classrooms with large groups of strangers. I thought I liked my job…I at least thought I liked that part of it. And really…I do…just not this much of it.
I’m definitely a routines person. A planner…sort of. When I’m at home, I get up, I make coffee, and I read for a while. Then I get ready, and go to work. I take the same route to work. It’s comfortable. But now, I feel out of whack. When traveling, I try to keep the same routine, but it’s really hard. I do get up, and I make coffee. But when in a hotel room with cable, I’ve been watching TV in the morning. For some reason, reading just doesn’t have the same catch. Maybe my brain feels overly taxed right now.

When delivering a training session, it’s like I’m a performing monkey for 7 hours. I’m always “on.” Then I go back to my hotel room and “relax.” Which really means I sit on my arse and watch TV. This is another part of my daily routine I miss. When I’m at home, I go for runs, or a bike ride. Sometimes I swim…but it’s been a while for that. But hey…my Dr. told me not to yet. Though I’m pretty sure if I wanted to, I could by now. I feel out of sorts. Working out keeps me grounded…it feels good.

I also eat like crap when I travel. I don’t know how to change that. I should know. But it just seems like it’s really difficult for me. I think part of it is emotions. I eat because I think it’s going to make me happy…and justify it that way…but really…that’s crap. It doesn’t make me happy. If anything, it makes me feel worse about myself.

I know that this isn’t going to last forever. But the next 2 weeks feel like forever. It’s really hard to see the end of all of this. Maybe because I’m directly in the middle of it.

I know right now I’m not happy. But I’m not sure what will make me happy. Part of me thinks that if I had someone to come home to, that would make me happy. Or if I did this…or that. At this point, I’m not even sure getting back to DC and back to my normal life is going to make me happy.

Not that he knows it, but I’ve been hijacking one of my friend’s dreams of opening a B&B. Not so much the day to day running of the B&B…the part I focus on is sitting on the front porch in a pair of jeans reading a book. Now of course, never having stayed at a B&B before, my mind immediately goes to a B&B on the beach…because I’m thinking of Nicolas Sparks novels where all of the B&B’s are on the beach. Don’t get me wrong. I hate the beach. I hate sand. But sitting on the porch with the ocean right in front of me sounds pretty damn good right about now.

I don’t know if that’s really what I want for my life. I know before I was happy living in DC. I enjoyed living there, I enjoyed working there. I enjoyed the use of public transportation. I did like my job…a lot.

In my logical brain, I know that right now is not the time to be making any major life changing decisions. I do know that. But my brain has to think of something just for sanity’s sake. I imagine moving out of DC, and settling down. Buying a house with a front porch. Or a back porch. Somewhere where I could have a grill. Oh…did I mention the dog sitting at my feet? Yes…a dog. I want a dog. I travel too much to where I couldn’t have any kind of animal without spending half of my salary in dog sitting fees.

I’m not sure where this magical place is. I do know that I haven’t been there yet. I’ve been back in Middle America this week. It definitely reminds me of home. But I do know that I’m also not ready to move back to a place like that. But the slower life style seems to fit me. But then again, DC fits too.
I know I don’t want to end up like George in Up in the Air…but that’s definitely what I feel like right now. I’m the sad person that travels way too much, calls the airport home as much as any other place…and doesn’t have anything to come home too. George abandoned his family in the movie…and I could never see myself doing that…but at the same time…I have my parents…that I talk to but rarely see. Other than that…what do I have?

I have some friends…and I’m trying to make more of an effort to see them when I’m home. Why even last week…I leapt. I was tired…and felt like drinking…and instead of sitting at home on the couch…I accepted an offer to hang out with someone who I truly admire. We didn’t do much…we went to Jazz in the Garden…and drank Sangria. It’s not something I would normally have done…and I don’t know why. It was fun. I had a really good time. And instead of actually listening to the jazz…we drank and talked…which is basically what everyone else was doing too. Much more fun that sitting on the couch drinking wine by myself.

Tomorrow I’m going to the movies with my roommate…who even when we’re both in town, we rarely see one another. And I know she misses me. She even told me so. It’s nice knowing that she’s there…even if we don’t see each other that often. And we’re going to the baseball game next weekend. That will definitely be fun…and another friend is joining us. It should be interesting if nothing else.
But even with those things…it seems like something else is missing. I take a cab home from the airport. I don’t have anyone here that (even if it’s a surprise) picks me up from the airport. I want the missing piece. I want to settle down. No more spending 45 minutes on the phone trying to change airline tickets for the next week. No more dragging my suitcase through the airport, waiting in line to go through security. No more packing on autopilot. No more spending 24 hours at home, and having a list the length of my arm of things I need to complete.

I know that I’m sick (literally) and tired (exhausted) right now. And I know that it’s not going to last forever. I know that, because, if it did last forever, it would kill me. And maybe I’m just venting right now. But it seems like I’m looking at things a lot differently now. I don’t want to end up like George…sad and alone. But that’s what I feel like right now.

I'm just so tired.

2010-08-15T07:50:00.000-04:00

I'm tired. Really, really tired. It's not the same tired that I felt when I was sick. This is just pure mental exhaustion. I don't even remember when this started...this tiredness. I don't remember what triggered it. But I know how I feel right now. I have a headache. My body hurts. I'm nauseous I don't want to keep my eyes open. I want to go back to bed, and curl up in my blankets...pull them over my head and disappear.

Yesterday was definitely not a good day. It was my one "day off" before leaving again. And I definitely use the term "day off" loosely. I couldn't relax at all. There are so many things that need to be done that I couldn't relax. The only time that I really spent for myself yesterday was when I ran. Don't get me wrong...that was good...but the rest of the day was pretty crappy.

I had to make sure I downloaded all of the materials I needed for this week. Then go to Staples and have them printed. Do laundry so I actually have clothes to wear. And do everything else that I'm supposed to do...all so I can leave again.

By 7:30 last night...I hadn't even gotten my suitcase out. I couldn't. I couldn't even imagine opening that empty suitcase and filling it. So much so that the image of clothes laying out on my bed made me cry. I didn't want to do it...and when I finally forced myself to do it...it was on autopilot.

Being this tired...this burnt out...causes a lot of feelings that I normally wouldn't have. Don't get me wrong...depending on the day...I'm either the most confident person you've ever talked to...or the most insecure. Recently...there have been a lot less insecure days...but yesterday was definitely one of them. Between buying a new dress that...let's face it...just makes me look really fat...and not being able to relax...and worrying about work...which of course ends up making me feel bad about everything that's not perfect in my life. It's a domino effect.

I feel like I have no backbone. No strength left. No support. There is no "just keep going." I feel like I can't do it. I just can't. I don't want to. And really, it just makes me feel so much more...alone.

Now we're on a completely different topic. I've been watching a lot of Grey's Anatomy lately. There was an episode that I watched where one of the character's has Asberger's...and she freaks out. And what she needs to calm herself down is to be held. It helps decrease your blood pressure. It's been so long since I've felt that. So long. I don't think I even remember what it feels like.

I've went on one date in the past year...and it was horrible. Awful. You keep hearing people asking what's wrong with themselves that they can't get a date. I try to think that it's just that I have ridiculously high standards...and that when the timing is right...it'll come along. But maybe it is me. Sometimes I think I've lost the opportunity to have a relationship...or even friends. And I don't know how that happened. I don't know. Yesterday...I was having an ugly/fat day. Ok...so I'm still kind of having it. Of course I'm going to be alone forever. Who would ever want me?

I thought writing about this would help me put things in perspective...at least sort out my thoughts. But it seems like it's only made things more cloudy. More confusing.

I do know I hate feeling like this. I miss feeling like it was ok to walk around in my cycling shorts...or that it really is ok to wear a swimsuit. I miss that confidence. I want it back. I want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop looking at my stomach and physically being able to see how much more fat is there now.

I want to be happy again.

Remember when...

2010-08-08T18:43:00.000-04:00

I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it. I was off work for 2 weeks, and literally did nothing except lay on the couch. And I went crazy. Absolutely stir crazy.

Now it's August. More appropriately ARRRRRgust.

It's the busy season. Which means everyone at work is drowning, and I will be home for 1 week. One. Week. And even then...not in the office.

I don't mind traveling. I actually enjoy it. But I miss my bed when I'm gone. And it's a range of emotions. And there are other things. There are a lot of other things. I love delivering training sessions. I love getting to work with teachers and administrators, and seeing the fact that what I'm telling them is actually sinking in. Their excitement to take this information back to their classrooms, where it will only benefit the children they teach is quite rewarding.

But like I said. There are other things. I still have a massive amount of work that I'm responsible for that no one else can help me with because they're all drowning too. And for as much as I have hated to admit it, I'm not superwoman, and there are just some things that I can't get done. Not immediately. And some people that want these things done want it done yesterday...and when it's not...they push...they push and they make me look bad for not getting to everything. It's hard. It's hard for me to accept that I just can't get everything done.

Other than not being able to be Superwoman...the traveling is hard. When I'm actually delivering the training session, I'm always on. It's like I'm performing for 7 hours a day, entertaining the group of people that have no idea who I am. Then, once the day is done, I head back to my hotel room...where I sit in my hotel room, likely eating room service and watching reruns on TV. It's the drastic 180 that's needed...but also a little maddening. It's extreme. Don't even mention any sight-seeing of any kind...because I'm quite certain I saw all of Eastern Kentucky that I needed to see on the drive from the airport. And after a day of performing, I need to decompress. But it gets lonely.

I eat like crap when I travel. I get one day at home...and that day isn't relaxing. It definitely hasn't been relaxing today. I have this one day to get everything done that I need to get done. Laundry. Cleaning. Shopping.

I've already had a couple of moments where I was ready to throw in the towel. And it's just the beginning of the month. There's a lot more of this to go...

So to that I say...

Remember when? Remember when I got to lay at home and watch movies all day. Granted, I couldn't run. So let's say...I'd gladly take another week of being able to lay on the couch, as long as I could run whenever I want too. Is that too much to ask? Unfortunately for now...yes...it is too much to ask.

Thinking Crazy Thoughts...Again...

2010-08-06T18:33:00.000-04:00

While I was sick and recovering from surgery, I made myself a lot of promises. One of them was that I would get my ass back in shape, and hit the training hard. I'm planning to go to the gym and actually work on strength training. I'm going to actually train for this 70.3 that I'm signed up for. And I have been putting a lot of thought into training for a marathon...mainly...because I can. It's August...the beginning of August...and I've ran 4 miles for my longest run...and I'm running the Savage half in September. Really...I haven't been all that concerned about running coming back. I know I can run. Other stuff...I'm going to have to work on a little harder.

So there are 3 races...marathons...that I'm considering...and I'm having a hard time making the leap to sign up for any of them. Here's the time line.

November 13...Beach 2 Battleship 70.3
December 5...Vegas Marathon
January 8-9...Goofy's Challenge
March...something...Shamrock Marathon

That's 3 Marathon's and a Half Ironman in 4 months.

I'm not sure what my normal recovery time is going to be. As soon as I finished Disney this year...I got bronchitis. For normal people...that's not a huge deal...but for an asthmatic...it can be deadly...and it takes a really long time to recover from.

Then...basically as soon as I recovered from the plague...I got even more sick...which has been months. I want to do all of them...I just don't know if I can...

I didn't ask for this.

2010-08-05T16:42:00.000-04:00

I feel like this always happens to me. I meet someone. We start talking. We start flirting. There's a connection there. Then something seemingly unseen happens...and I get insecure yet again. And I get pissed at myself for letting myself like someone.

I didn't ask for it this time. In the past...I've been looking. This time...I had given up. I'd completely given up. Not even wanted anything. And it happened again.

And nothing has happened. I just feel like it's never going to happen. Like I've yet again done something wrong. Like who I am is wrong. And again...he's just going to disappear.

I hate feeling like this. Like who I am is wrong. Like some little insecure person who is just...wrong.

I know part of the problem. I actually know a couple of parts of the problem. But I don't know how to fix them. Part is hormones. Part of it is being "damaged goods." Past relationships that didn't work out making me insecure of who I am.

It doesn't help I'm homesick. I'm actually homesick. I'm in the middle of nowhere...and I miss home. I miss my own bed.

Blerg.

I want this to be over. I didn't want this in the first place.

The Quest: Partner(s) in Crime Needed!

2010-07-28T19:11:00.000-04:00

I love food. I love all types of food. Thai, Ethiopian, Pizza, Sushi, Cereal, Pasta, Meat and Potatoes. All of it. But my favorite meal has been for many, many years...ok...let's say my entire life...has been a burger and fries. Any burger. Turkey burger; Veggie burger; Big, thick, juicy, greasy burgers. Yum. Yum.

The Quest: To find the best burger and fries in the DC area.

Needed: Partner(s) in crime. Because seriously...a quest like this can't be done by myself. It would be no fun...and because it's a little difficult to take stupid pictures of myself eating a burger.

Why: Why not?

In reality...I've been thinking about this for a while. And what brought it about was a couple of things. One being that I've been a bit restricted recently on what I've been allowed to eat...meaning no greasy burger and fries. But I'm pretty much free to eat whatever I want once again! And also, my dad keeps reminding me of a restaurant we went to while visiting DC when my brother was in the National Spelling Bee...and he keeps telling me how great these burgers were...and all he can remember is that the place was somewhere in Bethesda. But he doesn't remember any more than that. He's getting old and losing his memory...so I give him a bit of slack ;)

So what is needed of you? I need you to be willing to join me (even if it's only once) for a meal. You must order a burger of some kind. And of course give your opinion of said burger. Really, I'm envisioning some really funny pictures, some really good food, and a really good time.

Who's up for the challenge?

A different kind of wall

2010-07-26T16:55:00.000-04:00

I have a lot of friends that are in the midst of training for an Ironman, or who have just completed their first Ironman...and I'm jealous.

I have not trained for an Ironman, but am planning to next year...but I have trained for a marathon, and other shorter distance tri's. In each of these, there is a point where you just say "eff this, I'm done." For most people, this comes later in the race/training run. For me, as long as I could get past 2 miles, I was golden...I just had to get past mile 2. I'm weird like that.

I have tortured my body to points that the fat kid I was growing up never imagined I would put myself through. I've had sore legs, sore shoulders, back aches, neck aches, head aches, and aches in places I didn't know could hurt...and honestly loved every second of it. So I say now. If you had asked me then, I probably would have had a slightly different answer...but I still wasn't about to stop doing what I was doing.

The past few months, I've had to go through a completely different type of endurance. And one that was created by my body...not by what I had chosen to do with my body. And believe it or not...the most likely cause of the problems I have had is losing 120 pounds. Apparently your gallbladder turns on you if you lose weight rapidly. Not to mention there are genetic factors in my family as well.

I feel betrayed. My body betrayed me. And to be honest, I'm a little pissed about it. I grew up an overweight child, that never exercised, and hadn't played any sports since I sat the bench the entire season of volleyball in Jr. High. I gained a ton of weight in my early 20's...and once I finally shed that weight...and started becoming a more healthy person...I started running...then I started doing triathlons. And to do that, I've overcome asthma and horrible allergies to everything outdoors, and my own klutziness. I willingly put my body through that. If what I have gone through in the past 4 months had anything to do with what I had chosen to do with my body, I wouldn't be so pissed. But my body turned on me. A useless organ that's merely used for storage turned on me.

I've gone through highs and lows that I never imagined. For the many months that they couldn't figure out what was wrong, I quite possibly have never been so terrified in my life. But they finally figured it out, and they fixed it. This, of course, after months of being exhausted, and attempting to push my body through workouts, and just not being able to after a while. So finally, I couldn't do anything but go to work, and then come home and lay on the couch.

Who would have ever thought that being forced to lay on a couch and let my body be sick would be so difficult? Well...let me tell you...it's hard. It's really effing hard. I'm close to the end...and the mental insanity, and bouncing off the walls that I've done lately, especially post-surgery has pushed my mind to limits I never thought I would be pushed to. I'm not good at this. Maybe some people really are ok with relaxing, and just watching TV...but that's not me. I'm more type A than I ever imagined I really am. But I hate, despise really, not being able to do anything. The past week, when my parents weren't here to keep me occupied, and make sure I didn't do anything stupid have really been tough. Where telling myself that I really, in fact, do need to lay on the couch and watch another movie so when I can start working out again, I'm not going to do more damage.

But guess what? I'm close to the end. I go back to the Dr. tomorrow for my follow up appointment. It's the day I've been waiting for. It's the day that I will hopefully be let out of the doghouse, and will be able to return to training, though most likely a very light schedule.

I'm petrified.

Absolutely, 120% petrified.

I'm scared that they're going to tell me that I'm not quite ready to re-start yet.

I'm scared about how it's going to feel.

I'm scared that after 6 weeks of laying on the couch, and at most walking a few miles, my body will have gone to mush...and there won't be any muscle there to remember that I like doing this.

I'm scared at what's going to hurt. Not the typical muscle soreness...but I'm scared that this is going to hurt for a while...because a week and a half ago I had my insides ripped to shreds.

I know if I can get past that first run, that first bike ride, that first swim, I'll be fine. But it's stepping up to the line that I have to force myself to get to.

I've never needed anyone to hold my hand through something...nor do I have anyone that would do that for me...and I want to believe that I don't need it now, or then, or whenever...I'm just...scared.

I know that a lot of people are going through crap right now. And I'll admit, for having to take some time off training, I couldn't have picked a better time...because the weather has been ridiculous. And I do miss it. I hear everyone talk about their rides/runs/swims...and I've been jealous. I wish I were there with them. But this has just been a very unusual experience for me to get through. One that I really don't wish to repeat ever again.

Tomorrow is the day. I'm keeping my fingers, toes, and every other appendage crossed.

Romantical Ideas

2010-07-21T20:51:00.000-04:00

Now...don't get all worried and think that I'm going to be talking about candle lit dinners, and other assorted things that will make you (and me) puke. Clearly, I'm not talking about romance in the way most people think about romance today. I'm thinking romance in the ways of Gothic novels. Let me explain.

There are a few things in the world that make me pause and get that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Taking a walk while it's snowing and the feel of snowflakes on my eyelashes. The feeling you have when you first wake up, and haven't yet opened your eyes, and yet to have the stress of the day upon you, when your entire world is still at peace. And my absolute favorite, putting pen to paper and writing an actual letter.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate many of the technological advances that have allowed things such as social networking and email, text messaging, and smart phones. These pieces of technology have allowed us to communicate in a much more immediate fashion, and keep in contact with many people that over time you would normally have lost touch with.

But there is something that touches my soul when I get an actual letter in the mail. Maybe it's the fact that this only happens a couple of times a year. But I don't think that's it. Taking the time to sit down, and actually write someone a letter takes time, time that many people aren't willing to take on a regular basis.

Letters are how people used to court. Can you imagine the patience it would take to only be able to communicate through letters? One of the most memorable afternoons of my childhood was the afternoon that my family found the letters that my Grandpa had written my Grandma before they were married. It offered us such a rare glimpse into their relationship. I'm honestly not sure I had ever seen my father laugh that hard. And it's been a rare occasion since. It was a chance to travel through time, and see my grandparents as young lovebirds. To see them 50 years younger.

50 years from now, I can guarantee that my children and grandchildren aren't going to sit around reading my emails or facebook account. That's just now how this works.

Paper tends to stick around. We keep things that are special to us. Like the letters I wrote to my grandparents when I was a kid, to tell them that I missed them. Or the letters that my Grandma writes me now. She tells me what her day is like, tells me that she's going to cook something good for dinner, and what her blood sugar was, and that she needed to take a nap. I love it.

I am as guilty as everyone else about not putting pen to paper often. I normally only succeed at doing things like that around Christmas, or rarely throughout the year. But I always wish I would.

I think I make a bad patient

2010-07-17T18:37:00.000-04:00

So...now that the surgery has come and gone...I have the following thoughts:

1) Was that REALLY necessary for me to feel better? Because right now...I feel worse.

2) I have a new found respect for women that have had a C-Section.

3) I'm just really not a fan of pain killers. Maybe this has a direct cause on #1.

So...Tuesday morning...pretty much all went well. I got up early, drank coffee, and read for a while on the balcony. Then I showered, and hung out for a bit, and then headed to the hospital. On the way to the hospital, I got a call saying that my Dr. was actually ahead of schedule, and could I come now. Well...I'm already on my way...will that work? Perfect!

So I get to the hospital, which is an indefinite saga of "hurry up and wait." But I finally get to pre-op...and my mom is hanging out with me. I think I see every Dr. and nurse that is working in the hospital that day...and ALL of them ask the same questions, all of them ask me how to spell my name, and what my birthday is. The only problem anyone has is the ring in my tragus. And really...it's only the head nurse that has a problem with it. She thinks it needs to be taken out...no one else has said anything about it. When all is said and done...it never got taken out...which is good...because there's a good chance it never would have been put back in.

After more waiting...the anesthesiologist comes in and says "it's time to go!" And we start sprinting to the OR. I'm not really sure what the hurry is...but then again...I really don't have to do anything but sleep.

I wake...very briefly...and use the term "wake" quite loosely...because I really don't remember much, except the nurse telling me that if I was in pain, I could push the magic little button...and it would give me drugs. I grew to love and hate the magic button.

So they finally get me to my room, and my parents arrive a few minutes later. Still...I don't remember much. I have no idea what time it is. All I know is that I'm being told that the surgery went really well. Well...awesome...as I push the magic little button again.

For the next few hours, I'm in and out of consciousness. Let's say mainly out. Because I really don't remember much. I know that I was told that I needed to keep drinking...and they kept asking me if I had farted yet. Seriously...funniest question ever...and the KEEP ASKING IT!! Well...the answer was no...but I finally was able to get up...briefly...and then went straight back to bed.

Fortunately for me...my momma loves me...and was willing to stay in the hospital with me that night...which for the most part was a good thing. We'll get to the not so good part in a bit.

The nurse I had that night was also awesome. She was really helpful to mom, and was really supportive to both of us the entire night. So...around 2am...I decide it's time to take a walk. Yeah...because THAT was a good idea. Let's just say...it wasn't such a good idea...and I ended up throwing everything up that went in...and then some. Still not sure where everything came from. But I felt much better after that, and was able to get some decent sleep.

Around 5...the Drs. started making the rounds...one med student had been in and out all night. Oh wait...I forgot the on-call surgeon...who...after he came in the second time...which I got to call him a liar...because he told me he wouldn't see me again...then he came back to change my dressing...then I looked over at my mom and asked if the Dr. looked 12 to her as well. I didn't have my glasses on...and he definitely looked 12 to me. Anyway...the med student came in around 5:30...and then prepped me for the rounds to come in later. So around 7:30...my room was invaded by about 10 med students, residents, etc...which the resident that worked on my surgery is totally not a morning person. But they all checked me out...assured me that I could still go home that day...and I went back to sleep.

Oh...mom not so helpful. So...granted...she did this really awesome thing of staying with me while I was in the hospital. But around 4am...I had rolled over and pulled on my IV line...which I yelled about...and was practically in tears...and I called for her to help...and she was so out of it from being asleep that she couldn't figure out what I needed...and was getting annoyed that I had woken her up. Oh well...she gets a pass I suppose.

So dad finally shows up about mid-morning...and he and I go for a walk. As I reach the circle they told us to walk around...there is an older woman who is probably in her 70's...who is looking about as perky as I am...so I ask her "want to race?" She starts smiling. We both continue to hobble around the circle. At least I made an old woman laugh.

So the day continues...and I sleep a lot. And get sick a little more. And get checked out by more Doctors, and more nurses...and then eat some real food. Then hang out some more...and then get discharged.

We make it home without much problem...and I hobble to the couch...and promptly pass out again.

I ended up sleeping most of the day yesterday...but actually ate a bit of real food. Mom and dad keep telling me I need to get up and walk, and drink more water. And I'm trying...but good grief...when it's 95 degrees in the hallway...and I feel like I'm going to pass out...I really don't feel like taking another lap. But they're making me.

Today has been better. I haven't slept nearly as much...just a couple of naps...and we went for a walk of 5 whole blocks. As dad has said, I wasn't breaking any land speed records...but I'm not doing too shabby. Plus...I've also gotten to watch them clean my apartment this afternoon. As my sister-in-law told me...get them to do as much as you can while you can...this doesn't last forever.

But now that I'm starting to feel a little better...I'm also starting to get a little antsy. But as soon as that creeps up...I move...and I remember why I'm supposed to be taking it easy for now...

Hopes, Dreams, Desires

2010-07-11T08:30:00.000-04:00

To say the least, I've had a bit of time on my hands lately. Unfortunately, much of this time has been spent laying on my couch, napping, watching movies, watching really bad TV shows because we only get 3 channels at home, and it's summer, and there really isn't anything good on TV. I've been forced into something that isn't my normal life. And I really don't like it. But it's given me the opportunity to think about some things that I do want for my life.

One of the strangest (and believe me, even at the time, this seemed strange) examples I can think of when it comes to wanting what you can't have right now is when I was in High School, and I would have the flu. Every single time I had the flu, all I could think about was going to Burger King, and eating a Whopper. Only Burger King. Only a Whopper. And of course, as soon as I would be able to eat again...that's exactly what I would do.

Now that I'm a bit older...and have eaten better food than a Whopper (not to mention the fact that food just doesn't seem that appealing right now) what I want isn't a Whopper. And not everything that I want is food related.

I want to live in a place that has an exposed brick wall.

I want to sit on the floor eating food with chopsticks (of course sitting on a pillow because my bony butt can't handle sitting on hard wood floors).

I want to start going to the gym to work on strength training to try to gain back more muscle than I've lost lately (which I can tell has been a lot).

I want someone in my life that will call me on my bullshit. Not someone that gets in my face about it...but when I try to shrug it off and say that I'm fine...they would say no you don't.

I want someone to wrap their arms around me when I'm cold.

I want to enjoy food again. I'm tired of going to the grocery store, and buying food because I know I should eat...but not finding anything appetizing. I have been living on turkey sandwiches and yogurt mixed with peanut butter for far too long. Ok...so the yogurt and PB was a staple in my life before...and I expect it will be long after this whole thing is over...but I want to enjoy something other than that. I can't remember the last time I even WANTED to eat Thai food. Or a real burger and fries.

I want to share some of my favorite meals that I make with other people.

I want to sit on my balcony drinking crisp, cold white wine on a warm summer evening.

I want to get up on weekend mornings and go for long runs...long runs before the heat becomes overwhelming, and tourists take over the city. Early mornings when DC is really for the people that live here.

I know that once life goes back to normal...life will get busy...and some of these things may go by the wayside. But I really hope they don't. And granted...I realize that some of these things aren't completely up to me. But I still hope they happen.

This has been a difficult thing for me to mentally accept that it's happening to me. But at the same time, I think that it might be a good thing that it has. Because if it hadn't...would I have had thought yesterday that the thing I want most in the world is to sit on my floor eating greasy Chinese food out of the box with chopsticks? I doubt it.

Either way...this is happening...and I can see the finish line. But unlike most races...I can't start sprinting to the finish. I have to pace myself. I have to wait...and be patient...and that's a really tough thing for me to do. But I will get there...and I think that I'll be a better person because of it.

This is what I know so far...

2010-07-06T19:49:00.000-04:00

...I know that I never imagined I would be so excited to have surgery. Ok...I'm also absolutely petrified. But having this not be a factor in my life will be really fantastic and amazing.

I met with the surgeon this morning. Actually 2. The first one was clearly a resident...but he was nice...did the oh so wonderful exam...and then got the "real" Dr. They both came back...and said that yes...of course...we'll take out your gallbladder. Awesome news! Oh...but that might not completely take away all of your symptoms. Not so awesome news. But it should take away about 75-80%. Sweet...I'll take it!

The Dr. also went into the details about the risks of the surgery, all of that fun stuff. They looked to me if I had any questions. Of course. When can I start running again? Yes, the Drs. expression really read "is that REALLY the first question you're asking?" Yes...yes it was. The answer? Well...kind of ambiguous for right now. They won't give me a pass to start running (or anything else) until after my follow up appointment a week and a half after the surgery.

All in all, I think I'm getting a pretty good deal. They're going to try to do this with one incision...instead of 4...and the likelihood that I'd need to be completely ripped open is minimal.

So, of course, my parents are coming out to take care of me. Which...you know...is awesome. I'm excited about that. Wait...maybe excited is a little over-exaggerating just a smidge. I'm very grateful they're coming. But I'm also terrified of being cooped up in my apartment for over a week with them is going to drive me bonkers. I mean...I don't know what to do with myself if I have over 3 days off in a row. So the prospect of having 2 weeks off, recovering or not, I have no idea what I'm going to do. So yes...shameless plea for help on ideas, movies, soduko, ANYTHING to keep me entertained. Or if you're REALLY nice and awesome...you could always stop by for a visit. I promise I'll try not to look too pitiful. But seriously...that would be really awesome :)

So as I mentioned a little earlier...I'm a little nervous about this whole deal. But it's not really the surgery that I'm nervous about. I kind of figure that I'll be unconscious...so I really don't have too much to worry about there. Ok...so they're probably going to intubate me during the surgery. That kinda sucks. Big time. But...ok...deep breathe...the thing I'm most nervous about right now is having to spend the night in the hospital. I've never had to do that before. NEVER. And really...I don't want to. Ever. I'm not even sure I can put my finger on one thing that makes me so nervous about it. I just really don't want to.

Also, I think my veins (arteries?) are giving up. I've had more blood drawn in the past few weeks that they've just given up. I have NEVER bruised from needles sticks like I have recently. I'm not sure what's up with that...but that, too, can go away. Blerg.

So this is what I know so far. I'm sure over the next couple of days I'll find out more info...and of course...will keep everyone posted :)

Going stir crazy over here...

2010-07-02T15:58:00.000-04:00

It's been a long year.

Ok, it actually feels like this year has flown by. But it's been a long year.

One week from today, I was supposed to be making a 6 hour drive with my parents to complete my first 70.3. Key phrase: "supposed to." The whole trip has transformed several times over the past month...transformed...in fact...into non-existence.

First...I was still going to participate in the 70.3, and complete as much of it as I could, knowing that I wouldn't be able to finish the entire thing.

A few weeks ago, I realized that I wasn't even sure I would be able to get past the swim of the half (even though I did in May at Kinetic). So I switched to the sprint. No big deal. I would be happy with the Sprint...and focus my energy on completing a half at the end of the season. I had a couple of decent long runs on the weekends, and I was feeling good.

Wait...I should take a step back. "Feeling good" is probably not the correct term here. I'm not actually sure the last time I really felt good. I can't remember the last time I wasn't so tired I wanted to lay down and sleep for a month and a half. I don't remember the last time I went an entire day without my stomach or side killing me for at least a portion of the day. So really...feeling good was finishing an 8 mile run and not hurting too badly. And actually feeling at that point like I could run further if I really wanted to. I felt that I'd actually accomplished something because that was the longest run I had completed since my marathon in January.

It's not that I'm just being lazy. I'm not. In the portion of my brain that is Type A, and must be going all the time...and thinks that it's horrendous if I lay on the couch...that side of my brain is thinking that it's laziness. But it's really not. Deep down...and sometimes not so deep down...I know that I need to take it easy right now, and wait until everything is fixed...then I can go back to being crazy in a good way...and not just stir crazy.

For a long time...I thought that the issues I was having might just be in my head. It didn't help that a "friend" told me he thought that's what the problem was. But it's not. I have proof that it isn't. I swear...reading through the report of the MRI I had done...and finding out that I had gallstones...I was elated! Really, comparatively, the diagnosis is much better than a lot of the things they were looking for. I'm glad that they found it when they did because 1) I really didn't want to go through anymore painful, invasive tests and 2) it's been getting worse in the past 2 weeks. A lot worse.

I've been told a few times over the past year or so that I have a ridiculously high tolerance for pain. Well...I'm paying for it now. It took a long time for me to say anything about not feeling well...and by the time I did...it was too late. My mom told me a long time ago that she could always tell when I was faking being sick growing up because she could see it in my eyes. A few days ago...after feeling horrible for a week and a half...3 people, in one day, told me that I looked like crap. At least they were honest...because I do. Worse than post-cavity, half numb face crap. That's bad. Plus...without even trying...I've lost 5 pounds...in the last week.

So where does that leave me? Well...Musselman will have to wait another 12 months. So the whole fun family trip that was supposed to happen now has been postponed, and instead of having the parents here for July 4...the parents will be here to take care of me pre and post surgery. I'm meeting with the surgeon on Monday. I'm scared...but at the same time...I just want this to be over with. I want my life back.

I know it's coming...but being patient is hard.

Complete Happiness

2010-05-06T18:17:00.000-04:00

There are two differing theories about happiness...at least in my estimation. There is the ability to make oneself happy. And there is the the theory that you can't be happy without being complete without "the one".

I hate these battling theories. My personal feeling is that it's really neither, but more appropriately, a combination of both.

I have, for a very long time, thought that you have to know who you are, and feel confident with who you are, before you can ever be happy with someone else. Unfortunately, I feel like there are far too many people that really don't know who they are before coupling up, and making the leap of getting married. Within my set of friends, I have horrible examples of this. Fortunately...not all of them are examples.

Now moving on to whether or not you can truly make yourself happy. I know that there are people, women specifically, who think feel that they don't need anyone else to make them happy. For those people, that's great, and I applaud the fact that they know what they want.

Then on to the theory of not being truly happy without "the one". I grew up in a home with one of the happiest, most nauseating couples imaginable. I do realize I got a better example of a good marriage than a lot of people my age. But I don't think that it's unattainable.

I'll be the first to admit that I have very high standards when it comes to relationships. I've been in some very bad relationships, and I'm just unwilling to put up with unnecessary BS.

At the moment...I'm done. I have finally realized that I need to take care of myself. For as much as I know that at the end of the day, week, month, year...I do want to be married and have a family. For as much as my heart aches when I see mothers walking their children to school in the morning. I'm done. For now.

There is a theory that as soon as you give up worrying about being in a relationship, you'll find one. I don't even want that thought to cross my mind. I have so many other things that I need to focus on right now, I don't even want to have that thought cross my mind.

In the past, I thought that I had been done...but in the back of my mind, I still had that thought in the back of my mind where if I pretend to give up, I'll find that person. Well, clearly that hasn't worked.

I have no idea how I'll feel tomorrow or next week. And maybe at the end of the day, I'll still hope that I'll find that person. But at the same time...I hope I don't. I hope my friends remind me that I need to take care of myself...and that right now, nothing else matters.

There are a couple of things that brought this up. One...I'm definitely not ready to talk about (let's just say boys suck, even if you're not dating them)...and I'm not sure how much I'm ready to talk about the second. Well...let's just say during my Dr. appointment today, my doctor recommended that I have a procedure...which in itself is terrifying enough. But what really did me in, is that it's one of those procedures where I have to take the day off work, and someone has to come with me, and take care of me, and take me home. I don't know that I've ever felt more alone in my life. I have no family that lives in this area, and I'm single. I have some very good friends...but this isn't something that I feel comfortable even thinking about asking one of my friends to do for me. Fortunately, my parents are wonderful, and without hesitation, offered to come half way across the country to be there for me...because that's what parents do. Before I even had my own appointment, I was waiting in the waiting room (like you do) and there was this guy waiting...and while we were waiting, he got a phone call...and he told the other person that his wife was having a procedure done. At the mere mention of the word wife, I teared up. Just because that's what partners do for each other. I have my parents...and I'm thankful for that...but partner is just different.

To say the least...I believe I've had better days.

140.6?

2010-04-25T14:18:00.000-04:00

I have a lot of thoughts running through my head right now. So...it the typical Johanna fashion, I'm putting some of them down. It's kind of like the pensive in Harry Potter where you can take out your memory, and look at it later from a different perspective.

Triathlon season started last weekend. 2 things were realized. I've accepted them both, but at the same time feel completely stuck in the middle.

1) I have come a long way in the past year physically. My goal for the Sprint on Sunday was to be able to finish in 2 hours. I finished in 1:57:22. I made my goal, and really, fairly easily. Not to say that it wasn't challenging, because it was. There were moments during the swim that I thought I would drown, and just wanted to give up. And the way my swim was going, it might not have been a bad idea. But I never would have forgiven myself if I had. It was hard for me. Really hard. And yes, I freaked out in the water. Because of the way the start was, I never got a chance to relax while I was in the water. The start was at a place in the water where you couldn't touch the bottom, and my idea of taking a couple of breathes before being able to start swimming failed. I was treading water, and trying to stay calm, but I couldn't. Then I saw a girl ask to be taken out of the water well before the first buoy. And I wasn't the last one in my wave...although I ended up coming in last out of my wave because everyone behind me got picked up. I was ok until the next wave caught up to us. Then the wave after that did. And then I got punched in the nose. Needless to say, I have never in my life been so glad to see my bike. The bike is probably where I have come the furthest in the past year. Last August, it took me over an hour and a half to bike 16 miles. Last weekend, it took me 52 minutes to bike 12. That's a huge improvement for me. And the run...well...for being my favorite leg, and most comfortable leg, it wasn't bad. Last August I walked a lot more of the run that I really wanted to because my legs were just dead. That wasn't the case this time. I ended up running most of the run leg, and shaved a few minutes off my 5K time in triathlon. And that's WITH having to run through the woods, and navigate tree roots. Oh yeah...and I didn't fall down. Nope...not once.

OK...so the point is...last Sunday's race didn't suck nearly as bad as Luray did last year. And I came in under my goal time. One of the best moments of the weekend was when I saw Ed toward the end of the race, and told him that my smile was because I was finishing in under 2 hours. After the race, he gave me a hug and said "look at you getting all fast." So I realize that he was probably blowing a little smoke up my ass, but it was nice of him to do that. I'm not fast...but I'll keep going for forever.

OK, moving on.

2) I have a long way to go. I mean LOOOOOOOOOOONG. I am signed up for my first Half Iron race in July. And I realize that I have a lot of time before then, but I have a lot of work to do before then. Clearly my open water swimming needs a ton of work. And I am just not fast on the bike. And I need to get a lot more comfortable on my bike. My run...well...it's coming back. The distance, and being able to run longer has felt really good, and I have no doubt in my mind that I'll be running half marathons on the weekends with no problems. What can I say, running is my comfort zone.

Very briefly, I contemplated doing an Ironman race later this year. After last weekend, I decided it would be a much wiser idea to go back to my original plan of action, and do one in 2011.

I feel completely stuck in the middle of my abilities, and I'm warring with not having the confidence to do this, and not being patient enough to wait for my physical ability to get there. I was thinking this morning that I know where some of the lack of confidence is coming from. Until a little over a year ago, I was overweight, and inactive. To walk a couple of miles was a feat for me. And I think I still have that mentality stuck in my head a little bit. Not that I haven't proven my abilities, because I have, and I do every single time I work out. But there's some little voice in my head that is still the voice of that fat girl that tells me I'll never be able to really do this. Like all of the training and races that I've done are just a figment of my imagination. The other part is that I'm being impatient and I don't want to wait for my physical ability to catch up to where I want to be. Being part of Team Z is fantastic and amazing, and I absolutely love it...but I see so many people out there that this just comes naturally for...or if it doesn't, they sure make it seem that way.

I guess I just need to be patient, and allow myself the opportunity to work my way up. I know that I'll never be the fastest one out there...but at the same time...I want to get better...I want to get faster. Well...really...I want to look like I know what I'm doing. Ok...so the race pics kind of make me look like I know what I'm doing...but a large majority of the time...I just make it look good. Maybe that's the first step...fake it til you make it. Who knows...

I was fine until I started my packing list...

2010-04-16T15:06:00.000-04:00

So...triathlon season is finally upon us. The first race of the season is tomorrow. Over the past day, week, month...I've been getting the typical race jitters. Wait, no...let me rephrase. I have been getting race jitters...but not the typical ones where they completely take over my life, and I'm incapable of doing anything. Nope...this time, I've been nervous, but still able to function.

That is, until I started making my packing list for this afternoon.

Now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, and I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

I still swear by my statement that the nerves are actually a good thing...because any race that I haven't been nervous about I've crashed, bonked, or nearly ended up dead. Any race where I've been nervous before...I was fine. Well...for the most part. I at least finished with minimal amounts of pain or actual throwing up, and the tears were tears of joy.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Although I had initially wanted to do the entire Oly this weekend, I'm settling for the Sprint and relaying the bike of the Oly. I could have probably finished the Oly...but at what price...and at the beginning of the season, it just wasn't worth it.

So I'm really looking at this as a long training weekend. With the race goals this year, and they are lofty, I have no reason to be freaked about a short race.

But I'm still a littler nervous.

But hopefully I'll at least be able to pack tonight...and sleep.

Funky...

2010-02-08T18:11:00.000-05:00

I'm in a funk. And I'm not sure why.

I'd like to think that it's a combination of the weather, and having been sick for longer than any one person should be...but I'm not sure that's it.

I do have a good life...a job that I love...and that I do very well at. And I have very good friends.

Maybe this isn't a bad thing...but I have absolutely no motivation to attempt to be in a relationship. It's been nearly a year since my last real date. But part of me just doesn't care. I have absolutely no stomach for going to bars to try to meet people...and online dating makes my stomach turn even more. Not that I haven't tried it. I have. It just doesn't interest me. And even the thought of explaining my life to someone new just doesn't even seem like it would be fun.

Maybe I'm just picky. Maybe I refuse to settle. Maybe I already feel like I'm one half of an old married couple...but am still single. Yeah...that's a confusing situation. One that I don't completely understand...so I won't even begin to attempt it. I don't have answers...and for now...I think I'm ok with that. I've always been impatient...and at times...it's very hard to deal with...I just want to be settled...but at the same time...I should be grateful that I know who I am...and what I want. And I refuse to settle. I've been in a bad relationship. A really bad relationship. And I will not go back. I refuse.

And part of it is so hard to describe. I've had such a hard time putting it into words. Maybe I need to figure it out. Maybe I should remind myself of what I do have in my life that is good. Sometimes I miss what it's like when you first meet...but at the same time...there is comfort in being able to go grocery shopping, or to Wal-Mart together, or to the laundromat. Isn't that better than someone you're so shy around you can barely talk?

I don't know. Maybe it's hormones...the snow...the plague...or just a combination of everything.

All I know is that I'm in a funk...and I don't like it.

Stupid snow...I'm ready for Spring!

The Plague, Frustration, Tears of Joy and Blizzards 'a Plenty...

2010-02-05T18:02:00.000-05:00

I. Hate. Being. Sick.

I have been sick with something I have lovingly called "The Plague" for foreeeeeeeeeevver (at least that's how long it feels). Real time, I've been sick for about 3 weeks. It started off as a simple enough cold.

Ha.

It then turned into Bronchitis...which grandly was accompanied by insane amounts of fatigue. Even now, 3 weeks in, I have good moments, and I have some really bad moments. For someone that is as active as I normally am, having the energy to do no more than lay on the couch has been slightly frustrating. And by slightly...I really mean EXTREMELY.

Not only have I not had any energy, my brain function has decreased...so I end up not being able to spit out words that any normal day I would have nary a problem with. And I also end up asking stupid questions that I should be able to answer myself.

I did go to the Dr...and she put me on antibiotics. And side note here. I am a completely new experience for this Dr. First...this is a Dr. in an Allergy and Asthma clinic...so one would think they would be used to people with "sensitivities." I can't have lactose. Which drug manufacturers just happen to put in some medicines. For no good reason...other than it makes the pills all shiny and pretty. Really...I'd rather have medicine that isn't going to eff up my digestive system, than one that *shines*. So needless to say...finding medicine that I could take was quite an ordeal. She literally had to look each one up, and read every single ingredient. But we finally worked out a plan. And it worked...for the most part. The congestion cleared up. But the fatigue is still around.

Some moments are ok. Some...not so good. I was actually thinking today would be absolutely horrible. Not only do I have this wonderful bug that causes me to be extremely tired all the time...I also have bouts of insomnia. Yeah...it happens. So I woke up before 2am this morning and absolutely couldn't get back to sleep. I thought I would be horribly tired all day, and not worth anything. But fortunately that hasn't been the case.

I think one factor in this is that a very rare thing is happening here in DC. We are fully in the midst of our second blizzard of the season. DC...which hadn't had this much snow at one time in 32 years...is now gearing up to have the second dumping in less than 2 months. Weird winter, indeed.

But what this really means for me is that I got out of work early today. At 1pm in fact. So this morning everyone tried to get as much work done as possible...and we got everything needed done...and then we got to come home early. I did lay on the couch for a couple of hours...and watched a couple of episodes of House....but then I decided to spin.

To premise this...since my marathon 4 weeks ago...I have ran 6 miles (total) swam 3 times, and went spinning 3 times. And that's it. I hate it. And even the work outs that I have been doing have just felt horrible. I've been sluggish, and damn near drowned in the pool the other night. But tonight...I decided to just get on my bike...and try to last a half an hour...which is what I did the 2 previous times I went spinning. About 20 minutes in...something weird happened. I started smiling. It felt so amazingly good...I nearly started crying tears of joy.

I know that I'm not completely recovered...and I will probably sleep very well tonight. But hopefully I am on the road to recovery. As well I should be. Typical bronchitis recovery takes 2-3 weeks...and since I'm not typical...and I have asthma...I'm sure it will take me longer. But I know I will enjoy every work out I'm able to do...and am looking forward to getting back to a normal schedule.

The Disney Experience: 5:26:41

2010-01-12T10:41:00.000-05:00

It is now 2 days post-marathon...and I'm trying to get everything straight in my head. It has been such a crazy few days...few months really that I'm trying to piece everything together. I have had a couple of people tell me that I should remember everything about it, from before, during and after...and that's what I'm trying to do.

The insanity that has been the past few months started in September when I made the decision to run the Disney marathon, instead of running a couple of months later with the team. I had a couple of reasons for doing this...one being to give me more time to accomplish my other race goals for the year...which will need me to focus much more on cycling. And two...my roommate was also running the Disney marathon this year...plus...I knew running at Disney would be an added bonus for my parents (especially my mom) to come to the race.

After the Army Ten Miler at the beginning of October, I had taken a small break, and really hadn't been doing many long runs...I think my longest *might* have been 6 miles...maybe. The break was nice...but come November...I knew that I needed to kick it into gear. I got my training schedule from Ed...and cringed at all of the long runs that were ahead of me. There was a big part of me that didn't think I was ever going to be able to do this...but the other part knew that as long as I put my mind to it...I would be fine. After all...look at how far I had already come in 2009...when in January...I couldn't run for more than a minute without feeling like I was going to die...and I had already ran a half marathon...and survived that...

Looking back on some of my long training runs...and then remembering them during the race...was very sentimental. I remember my first 14 mile run...and at the end of the run I hurt so badly...my ankle, my hip flexors, everything. Then the next weekend I had a 16 mile training run...and the same feeling afterward.

The question of "why am I doing this again?" was definitely creeping into my head...but for as long as I had been running...running a marathon had been one of my goals.

Of all of my long training runs...I have to say that the 18 miler definitely went the best. I had just come off recovery week...and everything just went right. I was sore afterward...but of course that's to be expected. However...the next week...my 20 miler (which was also my longest scheduled run) did not go so well. I hadn't slept well the night before, the motivation to finish the run wasn't there...and I ended up walking...a lot. But the most important thing was that I finished it. And it was over with.

Taper was...weird. After having so many weeks of losing so much time to training and recovery...it was nice to have a small portion of my life back. The longest run I had during taper was 16 miles...scheduled for the day after Christmas. Since I was at home in Middle America...I had my parents get everything that I needed...and I brought all of my cold weather gear. But I was totally not prepared for the difference in the cold between DC and Southern IL...especially with the wind. I got 2 miles into the run and I was in tears the wind was blowing so much. So I ran home...and just stopped. The next Monday my mom and I went to a local gym and I ran a couple of hours on the treadmill. For someone who hates treadmills...it was definitely a much more pleasant experience than I had had trying to run outside.

So...woohoo! Last long run is out of the way.

This is also the point in which pre-race nerves start to set in. I have always gotten pre-race jitters...and ALWAYS feel as though I'm never going to be able to finish the race. It seemed especially bad this time...probably because this was far and above the longest race I'd ever attempted. Ok...so basically any race to date was the longest one attempted...but this was really a big deal...

So...it was finally race week...and I would be flying down to Orlando on Thursday after work...which meant I would have to pack Wednesday night. On my way home Wednesday evening...I found myself completely unwilling and unable to pack anything. When I finally forced myself to do it...I did a sloppy job (which is completely unlike me) and really...I'm surprised I made it to Florida with everything that I needed. Thursday evening, we arrive in Orlando without incident (except for the guy that sat between Bri and I who refused to turn off his cell phone). My parents meet me at the airport...and we finally get to their house...and I get to sleep somewhere around midnight.

The next morning...in a completely unrelated race anecdote...I get up and walk to the kitchen...and realize that my parents have a real coffee maker at this house. I use a french press...and have for a long time. Long enough, in fact, that in my half asleep, coffee deprived state of mind...I was very unsure if I remembered how to use such a thing. But I survived...and decent coffee was brewed...and the earth continued to spin...

On Saturday...we headed to Orlando...and checked into our hotel. Seriously...the pictures do not even do justice to how hideous and gaudy the hotel is. Our building is bright orange and yellow...and is decorated...well...in a bad version from the 60's and 70's. I'm terrified. But this gaudy monstrosity is also close to everything...so we board the shuttle to the expo and packet pick up. I know everything I need to do...but this is the first experience for my parents to witness such a thing...and the reality of what I'm about to do hits my mother. She ends up being ok...which is good. We peruse the expo for a while...which is oddly selling more cold weather gear than anyone would have ever imagined. Who knew that a balaclava would come in handy for a marathon in Florida?!?

After the expo, we went back to the hotel, finished unloading the car, and hung out for a while...I got a good chance to relax...and calm down just a bit. Some other family just happened to be in Orlando for the weekend, so they dropped by the hotel, and then we ate a quick dinner...and then it was bedtime...at 7:45pm.

I typically don't sleep all that well the night before a race...probably due to the aforementioned race jitters. I woke up a couple of times...and even though the alarm was set for 2:30, I was awake around 1:30...and was up for the day. When I finally rolled out of bed...my parents were very kind to me, and got me a coffee...and I got into my race gear. And I ended up with all of the truly essential things...but I forgot my camera to carry with me during the race :( At 3:30 I met my roommate and her parents...we snapped a couple of quick pre-race photos...and then boarded the shuttle to take us to the start.

We arrived a little before 4am...and it was a whopping 30 degrees outside. I was bundled up but it really wasn't enough to properly keep me warm. And even though I had hand warmers, it was so cold, they wouldn't get warm. We all stood around for about 45 minutes...and then we realized that we should probably use the facilities...so we got in line with the rest of the mass of humanity...and had a lovely 45 minute wait. After that...it was time for Bri and I to head to the start line, and the parents went off to find the cheer section. I had to strip off all of the extra layers...but had fortunately found a garbage bag (unused) that I had snagged and used that as an extra layer. Really...you would be surprised at how much insulation it could give you...

On the walk over to the start...it was even more cold...and I couldn't feel my toes. Or my ankles. I made the comment to my roommate that between the Biofreeze and the weather, I couldn't feel my ankle...which was probably a good thing. This is kind of a recurring theme throughout the day...

Once I finally found my corral...it was only a few minutes to wait before the start. I talked to a few other racers...and tried to calm my nerves. I will tell you...completely up until this time my stomach had been in knots...and I seriously had the feeling that I wouldn't be able to finish. I hadn't trained enough. I was going to be in pain. And I just wouldn't be able to do it.

I was very fortunate that I was in the first wave of the start...meaning I got to start running right away (not the 40 minutes additional waiting time that some people had...) I crossed the start line at exactly 5:45am. And I was running...and it felt really good. I'm actually not quite sure than running had ever felt so good before. I tried really hard to take it slow because I knew how long of a day was ahead of me.

Around mile 2, we entered Epcot...and it was so wonderful because there was a huge crowd cheering us on outside the park, and throughout the park (all of the parks actually) all of the workers were standing along the route cheering for us. I chatted up a woman from British Columbia who hadn't brought her cold weather gear along with her...but had purchased stuff here. But she ended up taking a walk break...and I kept running. Once out of Epcot, we had our first water stop...and this was a good example at what all of them would look like for the rest of the day. It was extremely well stocked...but it was so cold that the Powerade and Water were freezing, so everything was slush...and where people had discarded liquids (which ends up being everywhere) the ground was a complete sheet of ice. I literally walked through every water stop so I wouldn't chance falling. Perhaps I know myself...and my klutzy ways...

So...continuing on...at mile 4 you loop around to the start of the race...and pass by the crowd of spectators again. I knew my parents were supposed to be along the route somewhere...so I was kind of on the lookout for them...but my mother...I tell you...for a small woman...she can make a lot of noise. I heard her well before I could see her. She was cheering her heart out...and it was definitely awesome to see.

It was shortly after this that I really took my first self-evaluation on how I was feeling. My answer was that I was feeling really good. Like...excessively really good. Wait...this is weird. I then forced myself...to ask myself...am I really feeling good...or can I just not feel anything? The answer either way was that I felt good enough to keep running...so I did.

Another note of interest...is that this is seriously the most organized race I've ever been in. The water stops are completely fully stocked. And even better...they actually are where they say they are going to be. And the med tents were great as well. Vaseline, Tylenol, and Biofreeze available. Since I tend to have a slight tendinitis problem in my right ankle...having biofreeze readily available is a very good thing. The only thing I will tell you...is that if you have gloves on...avoid getting Biofreeze on the gloves...especially if it's the one you blow your nose in.

The next park to run through was the Magic Kingdom...and by far my favorite to run through. I'm not exactly sure if I can say why...I just got a warm, fuzzy feeling as I was running through there. Oh...and I TOTALLY wanted to stop and take a ride on the teacups. It also was a lot of fun that they had pirates (complete with ship) as we left the park. But then I had "yo ho yo ho a pirates life for me..." stuck in my head for a while. At least it wasn't Jingle Bells...

The next stretch...although there were good parts...were probably the most difficult for me. Between the Magic Kingdom and Animal Kingdom...you are literally in no man's land. There are still characters and entertainment...but not much else to see. There were times where I wanted to walk...and I would ask myself if I really needed to walk or if I was just being lazy. On almost every occasion the answer was that I felt fine enough to be running...so that's what I did.

At mile 14...I snarfed a banana...and it set better than I was expecting...especially because it, too, was nearly frozen. I also passed the young cadet that was running the marathon in BDU's, complete with combat boots and a 30 pound pack. This kind was amazing. I don't run that fast...but even miles later...he wasn't that far behind me.

At mile 15, I got fairly emotional. I knew, at that point, that I would finish. Even better? I was going to finish under my goal time of 5 and a half hours. At that point I was on pace to finish in just over 5 hours. Woohoo!!!

Once in the Animal Kingdom...it once again felt good to be back in civilization. And there were spectators there...which also was a good thing. Between there and mile 22, I really felt good. I was also thrilled to be able to count down how many miles I had left and was thrilled that I was finally in single digits!!!

By mile 22, we were getting in, and through Hollywood Studios...and although I knew I was going to finish...and it was getting soooooooooooo close...the feeling good started to slip. Mainly from my feet. My tendinitis ridden ankle was fine...but my toes were really starting to feel it. In fact...at one point they even asked while I was still running. My running started to turn into more of a shuffle...and I ended up walking more of the last 4 miles than I ever imagined. But I always continued to move forward. In fact...I walked most of the last mile. Until I got to the last corner before the finish. I heard other people talking about the finish...and knew it was close...so I started jogging again. And then I turned the corner, and could see it...and I could see the massive amount of people that were there...and I couldn't feel my toes bothering me...and I sped up. And definitely had tears in my eyes as I crossed the line.

I moved on, and got my foil blanket wrapped around me. And then next I got my medal. As the guy was hanging it around my next, he asked how I was feeling...and the only thing I could think to say was "unbelievable." I also made a quick stop at the med tent and got an ice pack wrapped around my ankle (more as preventative because it still wasn't hurting that bad...yet. It was definitely the right thing to do).

I eventually wandered around, and found my parents. Somehow, my dad ended up being right in front of me as I walked out of the tent to the family reunion area. Which was a good thing. I handed off my water to him (which he had to open for me...because I still couldn't feel my fingers). And then we found my mom...who gave me a huge hug...and was crying because she said she looked so hard for me at the finish...but just couldn't see me. They snapped a couple of quick pictures...then we headed off to the shuttle bus that would take us back to the hotel.

The hardest part of the day (and I'm really not kidding here) was coming down the steps off the bus. 2 hotel employees were standing at the bottom...and they practically had to lift me down because I was feeling so sore. Fortunately...we had gotten a late check out time, and I was able to take a quick shower before we went back to my parents house.

Once we got back to the house...we relaxed for a couple of hours. My parents knew where I wanted to go for dinner...but I had also told them this: "I won't be able to eat much for a while after the race...but once I can...look out." So we went to an all you can eat buffet for dinner (seriously...they had to have lost money on that deal...) and then I went home and polished off a pint of chocolate ice cream :)

Since the end of the race, I have tried to wrap my head around everything. I wanted to remember every second of the race...and it unfortunately has turned into a blur for the most part. But I still feel amazing. And I'm incredibly thankful to everyone that was so supportive over the past few months. I know that I haven't seen many people because of training, and other insanity getting in the way...and maybe life will go back to normal...if there is such a thing. But I did it...I have joined the <1% that has completed a marathon. *I*...Johanna Lynn Hooks...who one year ago was just starting to run...who had never been athletic for a day in my life before that...finished a marathon.

The many faces of Johanna...

2009-11-20T15:35:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving Memories...

2009-11-20T15:09:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving has typically been one of my favorite holiday's over the years. There have been some really fun ones, and some that I can fortunately look back on and laugh. But it's typically a great evening to sit around with family...and just...relax and have fun. Oddly enough, this has been the one major holiday that I haven't made a big deal about not spending with my parents. But yet, it still seems like a holiday that one should spend with their family.

This year, I made the decision to spend Thanksgiving in DC. It just wasn't feasible to fly home for Thanksgiving, and then turn around a month later and go home for Christmas. At the time I made the decision, my roommate was also planning to stay in DC...but now...because of some family stuff, she's now planning to go home. It's totally the right thing to do for her. Just hard...because it now leaves me to, most likely, spend the day alone. I'll be ok. I know I will...but it won't be easy either.

The first Thanksgiving that I didn't spend with my parents was my senior year in college. My senior thesis class had the option to go to England, and I, of course, had to go. It was a great, tiring trip. The day before Thanksgiving, we went to Oxford, where we visited the college where they film the Harry Potter movies. Then we ate lunch at this Americanized pub. And all 4 of us promptly got food poisoning. So on Thanksgiving morning, me and another girl slept while the other 2 went sightseeing. Then we had tea at the Savoy with Margaret Drabble...which was cool. And then, when we got back to Victoria Station...we ate Thanksgiving dinner at Burger King. Fan. Tas. Tic. This goes down in history as the worst Thanksgiving ever. But I still can laugh about it. Now.

Last Thanksgiving was also a very good time. I spent the weekend with my brother and sister-in-law in NYC. I spent entirely too long staring out the front window laughing at the people rushing to the liquor store across the street. But it was very nice...we watched the parade...on tv...we cooked...we shopped for wine...we ate a ton of really good food...and my brother got a little drunk...which was also really funny. But it was a good weekend...although the meal that I really take away from that trip was the burgers we had the night I got into town. After the most awful bus ride ever, they took me directly to get dinner and drink beer. It was...amazing. And then we got sorbet. Pear sorbet. Mmm....my mouth waters at the mere idea :) Also funny story...is right after I got off the bus, we were headed down to the subway and of the 3 of us...some guy stops ME for directions. I was so out of it because I had just gotten off a bus after 9 hours...I couldn't even speak. My brother promptly grabbed my arm and drug me down the steps and my sister in law stopped to give him directions. I do remember the guy saying that he didn't mean to scare me. And I heard her explain to him that I wasn't from there...and that I wasn't feeling well. Awesome.

Ah...memories.

Over the years...there have been a lot of great memories...more than just those that I've mentioned. But it's nice to look back at all of the holiday's and have those good memories.

Savageman: A weekend to remember

2009-09-22T12:37:00.000-04:00

Initially after the race on Sunday...I basically wanted to curl up (and possibly die) and forget that the race ever happened. At that point, I felt that nothing had really went right for my race. Now, a couple of days later...I'm starting to see a lot more good things about the weekend than I initially had.

My first thanks for the day has to be everyone that was helping prep breakfast at the tent. As soon as I walked up...the first pot of coffee was finished brewing...you really can't ask for more perfect timing than that :)

After hanging around to watch everyone dance into their wetsuits...I wished Katy (my swimmer) good luck, told Ginny I would see her on the bike...and I headed out to Toothpick lane where I was volunteering to point everyone left. I thought I was going to be the only one there, but was pleased to see Erin standing there as well. I really enjoyed getting to cheer for everyone as they flew past on their bikes. Seeing everyone's faces as they grimaced looking at the hill to come was priceless.

After my volunteer shift was over...I headed back to the Z tent to chill out before I needed to run. I have to say that I absolutely love relaying...and I especially love doing the run portion...but the wait is a killer. But I was calm...which is a completely new thing for me. Normally I'm a nervous mess...but you know...never having ran a half marathon before...not to mention the course...what did I have to be nervous about?

It was great getting to hang out with all of the other runners in transition...especially hedging bets with Chris on when I would pass him. I was a little jealous of seeing everyone else off as their bikers came in...Ginny had told me she needed 5 hours on the bike...and when she passed me that morning at 9:20, I knew we were exactly on schedule. But to be honest, Ginny was the only one that ever said she needed 5 hours...everyone else knew she'd be in before that. And true to that...she was in at 4:30. Awesome job on the bike Ginny.

And finally...I was running...which felt awesome. I had seen a large portion of the run course...and knew that it was challenging, but not...horrible. The first loop really wasn't bad. The only time I had to walk was half-way up the Tower Climb. And it also helped that by the time I was running my first loop, I was getting passed by a ton of people on their second loop. One guy even gave me kudos for wearing my running skirt...and appreciated that I was "bringing it back". By the time I got to the park to start my second loop...my legs were starting to feel it...but at the time...I didn't think it was anything I couldn't overcome. I slowed down. I tried to keep myself as hydrated as possible without giving myself a stomach ache. But I could not have been more wrong about being able to overcome my legs. I had also checked my time, and knew that I was perfectly on schedule to come in on my goal time of 2:30. Rock on.

I passed Holly...looking like a rock star...early on the second loop. I must say it was awesome racing with you Holly!

My first challenge was that my plan to eat a banana the first time I passed the aid station at the entrance to the campground was foiled by the fact that they no longer had any bananas.

Dang.

I'll just have to wait 4 miles until the next aid station.

I also got a chance to see Chris...and he made fun of me for not passing him in the campground, and we again hedged bets on when I would overtake him. He was banking on me passing him by the Tower Climb. I wasn't so sure...but was willing to try.

But then...my calves...and oddly my ankle...started cramping. I slowed down even more...and walked up a few big hills. Which really sucked...because I actually LIKE running up hills...but my legs just wouldn't let me. By mile 9.5...I was done. I just wanted to be across the finish line and sitting down...with my legs soaking in ice. But for some reason, this pesky course thought that it needed to go on for a few more miles. WTF is up with that?!?

I'm not going to lie...the next few miles were awful. There were times I was in tears my legs hurt so badly...and if it weren't for the occasional cheer from either fellow Z'ers or the occasional spectator...I probably wouldn't have made it. When I once again passed Chris after he had made it down the Tower Climb...I knew I wasn't going to catch him. I knew my legs wouldn't be able to get me there. But he still told me that I would. Chris...that seriously meant a lot. This is the second race that we've been in there at the end together...and it's been fantastic!...well...mostly :)

Then on to the next aid station. Guess what. No bananas.

#$?%(!@

Oh yeah...and did I mention that half way through the second loop, I look down and realized that I no longer was wearing my race belt? Fan. Tas. Tic. When I wasn't feeling like I was going to die...I was casually looking at the ground to see if I had dropped it in a ditch somewhere.

But then I get to the top of the Tower Climb, and to the aid station there. And guess what? THEY HAVE BANANAS! At this point...I basically realize that it's going to have absolutely no benefit other than a placebo...but I thought that might be enough to get me across the finish line. As I rounded the cone at the top...another volunteer stopped and said "222...I have your number...I've been waiting for you!"

Phew...no penalty for that...hopefully :)

I hook it back to my waist...and take off down the hill. By this time...my legs are hurting enough that I can't even really run downhill either. Lovely.

Over the last couple of miles...I honestly don't remember a lot. There were a few Z'ers that passed me...and tried to get me to run to the end with them...and I just couldn't keep up. I appreciate the support because I definitely needed it!

By the time I got back to the park...I knew I was close...and couldn't wait to finish. I ended up walking a huge portion of it. And at approximately mile 12.75, my race belt fell off again. ARGH!?! When I leaned down to pick it up...remember that weird ankle cramp. Yeah...it just got a million times worse. At that point...I knew I'd have to walk the rest of the way. I kept trudging along...and finally made it to the curve before the finish line. There was absolutely no way I was going to let anyone see me walk across the finish line...so I started jogging...and crying at the same time. I remember seeing Ginny and Chris there...and Jeff doing his usual of asking me what took so long. I don't remember much about crossing the finish line other than sobbing against Jeff and attempting to ask to sit down somewhere. Jeff and Ginny got me to a bench...and then got me to calm down a little bit and tell them what hurt...which was basically everything.

Shoe removal. Foot up. Ice pack. Drinking half of Ed's beer. I'm feeling slightly better...but the embarrassment of crying across the finish line is starting to set in...

Up to this point...I was feeling awful about how the race went. I hadn't made my goal time...even though I was fairly certain I was in under my "even if I eff up" time. At that point I was sure the slim chance my relay team had of getting on the podium for all female relays was gone. And I was just looking forward to coming back next year and crushing the race.

Since then...my perspective has changed a little.

I checked the times yesterday...and found out the EngergiZer BunnieZ placed second (2 podium placements in 2 weekends...I could totally get used to that...) and my legs aren't hurting nearly as bad...and I've realized that a lot of really good things came out of this race.

First off...huge kudos to some people...

Chris...you were totally a rock star out there and you and Ginny were a fantastic to support all weekend.
Fabrice...major kudos on actually giving Chris that 1 loop lead he needed to stay ahead of me (I wasn't actually serious when I told you to do that!?!)
Holly...for sticking in there looking like a rock star while doing it...and making sure that the trees knew you were ok after you fell :)
Nicholas...for actually starting to run when I made fun of you on the Tower Climb
Katy and Ginny...for being an awesome relay team! I had such a good time...and you both did amazing...and I'm glad we were able to beat out 2 (not just 1) other relay team!!!
Every single Z member that encouraged me on the run...you are all amazing and I literally could not have done it without your support.
There was another racer who had finished and was cheering on the last leg of the run...who had told me good job...to whom I responded "You lie...but thank you anyway."

Lessons learned...

CARRY YOUR OWN NUTRITION. Yeah...no more dumbass moments for me there.
Don't wait until you can actually tell that you need new running shoes before buying them.
Aquaphor in a small tube is a great thing to bring on the run.
Buy a race belt that is actually going to stay on.
When camping the night before a race and the weather prediction is for the 40's, bring fleece.

I'm feeling better about life now...and about my prospects for next year. My goal is to do the entire Half next year...and this has just given me even more motivation to work my ass off to do it. It's a great race, a great course...and with the support of all of you...it's totally possible :)

Best. Team. Ever.

:)

I need a vacation from my vacation...

2009-09-15T14:10:00.000-04:00

Last fall when I moved half-way across the country, I accepted the fact that some of my vacation time would need to be spent visiting home. It's just something that you have to do. Your friends miss you. Your family misses you. But what these visits create is a very stressful few days that are packed with trying to see everyone. Don't get me wrong...I love seeing everyone...but I occasionally need a break to recover from those visits.

This trip had been planned for a long time. The actual, official reason for the trip was my 10 year High School reunion. Don't get me started on how old that makes me feel...but anyway that was what the excuse was for going home. But really...the only thing that got me there was knowing that I would get to see my best friend, and my college roommate...and her son. Oh yeah...an my family...it's always nice to see them.

Well the weekend started easily enough. I flew home Thursday evening, and thankfully didn't have any problems on the way. I got to talk to Jeff while I was in the airport...which helped me waste some time...and then had quite an uneventful flight home. My parents picked me up at the airport...and we headed home. I actually felt like such a kid several times on this trip...the first incident of this was on the way home. I ended up curling up in the back seat and falling asleep on the drive home...which I don't think I've done since I was a child. But I couldn't help it...I was tired.

Then Friday morning I wake up, make coffee and read for a bit. And as usual, my dad asks me what I want for breakfast...and I finally decide on pancakes. Dad makes really gooooood pancakes. The first pancake that he made me...yeah...it was definitely in the shape of Mickey Mouse. But I guess I shouldn't feel too bad...he made one for my mom as well. So I hang out with the parental units for a little while...then I head to town to have lunch at the Dairy Bar with Gretchen, Derek, Chris and Sarah. There is one reason we eat at the Dairy Bar. They have the best freaking cole slaw ever! Even though we're having them cater the reunion, we're still making a special trip there for lunch. So we get there, order, and wait for our food. After quite a wait...they come out and tell us that they're out of cole slaw...but we could have potato salad with our meal. How can they be out of COLE SLAW?!? That's ridiculous! But anyway...we eat...and sit around talking for a bit...then all of a sudden...I look over at Gretchen...and tell her that I really want to go down the big curly slide. Did I mention that the Dairy Bar is in the local park? So we all go outside...and have our 15 minutes of acting like a kid...good times.

Because my time was so short...I told my mom to invite all of the family that could make it to the house on Friday evening so I could see as many of them as possible. So it was nice to see my Aunt and Uncle and my Grandma. My Uncle hadn't actually seen me lately...and he didn't even recognize me. Tally number 1 for that count.

The next morning was the Schutzenfest 5K. We had a ridiculously hard time finding info about this race...but finally...thanks to my Grandma...I had a start time and location. So I get there...and laugh at the small town Middle America race. 9 people had pre-registered...but fortunately a few other people showed up. I ended up having a good race...and finished in 26:32...which was good enough for second in my age group, and second overall female. I was definitely happy...especially since this is probably going to be the only time I ever podium in a race...ever.

So I go home...get ready...and head to reunion part the first. It's a family picnic...I must say that it was nice to see most everyone. I got to talk to basically everyone...talk to them for a few minutes...but as reunions tend to go...I ended up hanging out with the people that I hung out with in High School. Believe me...I'm not complaining...because I love my bff. Oh yeah...and I ate fried chicken. Let's not talk about how gross I felt after that. I must say that it felt quite nice because most everyone that hadn't seen me in the past 5-10 years told me that they almost, or didn't recognize me. Granted...many of them told me it was because my hair is so different...which I find funny that they completely glossed over the fact that I've lost a ton of weight...but oh well. Mission accomplished :)

So we leave there around 2ish...and go to the lake house...and again relive our past. Uncle Jack takes us out of the boat...which was awesome. Then we go to the Ranch for dinner. I eat way too many chips and salsa...but I just can't help it...they're sooooooo goooooooooood. During dinner...my contact started bugging me really badly...so I ended up going home to take them out. It was bad enough that I couldn't really see...so I ended up not making it to reunion part the second. I'm not really sure I'm upset about that.

Sunday was a very nice day. I went to church with my parents...and got to see all of their friends. Then I went to Christina (my college roommate)'s house. More importantly I got to spend the afternoon with her adorable son. We read stories...and played...and he crawled all over the house. Then while he was napping Christina and I got to talk. We met the girls for dinner...and had a really nice them.

I got home late on Sunday...then woke up Monday...did some laundry...packed...and headed back to the airport...which I'm not refering to as my second home. But hopefully this will be my last flight for a while. Hopefully.

Then...I'm not quite sure what got into me last night. I got home from the airport at 7...and started unpacking. Not that this isn't needed. Because it totally is. I still have a lot of stuff to unpack and get situated. It was just weird. But I'm not really complaining.

So all in all...a good trip...I'm just tired still...and need another break. Oh well...I'll get one...eventually...

One month until my Birthday!

2009-09-02T19:42:00.000-04:00

As the title suggests, my birthday is in exactly one month. Normally, every year about this time, I realize that my birthday is only a month away. And as I get a little older, I tend to get a little nostalgic, and like to look back at the past year. In most years past, I haven't been to happy with what I've had to look back on. I tend to feel that I've let the past year slide, and not accomplished anything.

This year...that isn't the case. I have had a very successful year. On October 1, 2008, I moved to DC. It was something that I had been planning for a couple of months...and I'm not afraid to admit that I was terrified. I was leaving everything that I had ever known, and moving half way across the country. I did have friends that I knew there...but I had no job...and a lot of uncertainty.

I must say that the couple of months that I had off work was nice. I tried to enjoy it. I went for long walks...and I started getting acquainted with my new city. I did search for a job, and by the time I actually got a job, I was more than happy to have one. I was starting to get bored, and antsy...and a little poor. And when I first started working at TSI, I thought that it was just a temp job...a paycheck until I found something else. But I knew that it was a great company, and they did really good things. Providing early childhood curriculum materials is something that people can respect. So the longer that I have worked there...the more I have come to appreciate and enjoy my job. It's somewhere where I don't mind going to work every day. There are crazy days, and there are days that make me want to pull my hair out. But really...I actually like my job. I think this is the first time that I can say that. I have had more opportunities come my way than I ever imagined to be possible. Even still, when a new opportunity is available to me, I'm shocked that it's happened so quickly. And it keeps happening...and that's a good thing :)

Other than this fabulous job that I have...something else has happened. I started running...and then added swimming and biking on top of it. I never in my wildest imagination thought that I would be able to accomplish some of the physical feats that I have in the past few months. But I wouldn't change them for anything.

I'm not going to say that everything has been fantastic this year. I've had a couple of relationships fall of their face. But I've learned something from them, and for that...I can't say that it's all bad. I try to never regret anything...and I really don't. As I said...I've learned something from them...so at least they weren't worthless.

So all in all...27 has been a very good age for me. I never enjoy getting a year older, and my actual birthday can never pass without some difficulty. My grandmother died on my 20th birthday, so there is always some sadness that accompanies my birthday...but this year...I am proud to look back at everything that I have accomplished...and I can pat myself on the back...and feel good about the person that I am. I can only hope that 28 will be just as good. Oh yeah...and I'm not going to feel bad about eating that piece of Lemon Cake either. Because it's just that damn good...

I hate packing.

2009-08-30T14:59:00.000-04:00

I really, really hate packing. I know that moving is going to be a good thing. I know that...I do. But at the moment...the idea of putting one more thing in a box or a suitcase sickens me. I just can't bring myself to do it. At all. I just have no motivation to do it right now.

It isn't often that I feel lazy. Normally...I can't stop myself from finding something to do. And despise spending long periods of time just sitting doing nothing. Except for today apparently. I actually feel like something is wrong with me. It's so...weird.

Even writing this, I'm having a hard time finding the motivation to finish anything...

So...yeah...that is all...