26 Acts of Kindness Part II

I never thought completing my first Act of Kindness in remembrance of the 26 lives lost at Sandy Brook Elementary would be such an emotional process.  From my last post, I was torn about how to approach a few things...who/what/when how.  I carried around my Act #1 envelope all day waiting for the moment where it all felt right.  I was in Walmart getting my Subway sandwich and gum that day and I saw her.  I was convinced that I was looking for a certain type of person but to my surprise, I went against all that I wanted for this act and chose an elderly woman who reminded me so much of my Grandmother.  The way she tried to talk when she had no teeth in her mouth and the way her veins stood up like she trained every day of her life.  I was concerned about my approach but decided that it really didn't matter as long as I was sincere and everything I said came from the heart.  She knew it did.  I didn't force the envelope with the scratch ticket on her.  I simply held it in my hands and spoke.

"Hi, my name is Brenda. I have this card for you.  I want to give this to you as a small act of kindness because you remind me of my Grandmother.  I hope that doesn't offend you in any way."  As I held out the card, she didn't reach for it and I can't blame her.  So I continued... "I loved my Grandmother very much and as I start my journey with what I'm doing, I want to start with what my heart tells me and that is you.  It's not much but maybe will be enough to brighten your day just a little bit more."  As she finally reached for the card, she asked if I signed it. That question was worth it all because my Grandmother would have asked the same.  "No" I said. "It doesn't matter, but I wish you the best of luck".  And I walked away.  As I proceeded to my car, the tears were streaming in full force and all I could think about was how the hell am I going to get through 25+ more acts of kindness if I'm going to be this emotional??

Act of Kindness #2 - Give a Christmas gift to a stranger at work.
As I walked through the building with the Bath & Body Works body spray in a gift bag with a card explaining that they are my 2nd act of kindness, I decided that I wanted to just drop it on someone's desk who looked like they were in but wasn't currently sitting at their desk.  Someone at the far corner of the building where I know almost no one.  The choice was easy.  It wasn't emotional at all until... this email from this individual went out to everyone in the building...

"Today a very kind soul left me a Christmas Present with a very warm message in a Christmas Card. The sentiment pertained to the 26 children that were taken from the Sandy Brook Elementary School. I am the second Act of Kindness out of 26 that this person is giving to in Memory of the Children. There are kind and thoughtful people in this world and thanks to this kind hearted person, I am taking the time to Pay it Back as well.

Thank you!"

All I want is for people to pay it forward.  It may make this world a better place. 

So far, 2 for 2.

Peace.

26 Acts of Kindness Part 1

It's amazing how such an unspeakable act like the horrific tragedy that occurred at Sandy Brook Elementary School can somehow bind people into this powerful force that just might make a difference.  Even if it's just for a little while.  I'm sure most of you have seen the posts that have been going around about 26 Acts of Kindness.  I read about this and it took me about 20 seconds to decide to jump on that bandwagon.  I haven't decided how or what my 26 acts are going to entail but I do have the first few in mind.  My first will be today.  It's not an original idea by any means but when I saw what others were doing, I thought this act in particular was a simple way to get started by hopefully bringing a smile to someone's face.  I've decided to blog about my thoughts throughout my journey not only to possibly spread a little enthusiasm for others but also to keep myself accountable and to keep myself from stopping before I reach my 26th Act Of Kindness.

Act of Kindness#1 - A holiday card with a note and a $5 scratch ticket for a complete stranger.

The gesture is simple but carrying out such a simple idea is so complicated!!  Maybe I just overthink it but how/when/where/who is a lot to consider. 

HOW do you approach someone these days without them thinking you might be a lunatic with an exploding envelope?  I hate to admit it, but sometimes I do think the worst in people so what approach would it take for me to gladly accept an envelope from a complete stranger without turning right around to throw it away without opening it?  A smile for sure.  No problem.  The words I use will have to be upbeat, kind and sincere.

WHERE should one try to execute such an act?  A place where you think you might find someone who could use a little cheer?  But everyone needs a little extra cheer.  I don't want to be discriminatory in any way so maybe the only solution to WHERE is to carry around this envelope for the day and hand it out WHEN I feel the time is right.

WHO. The hardest part without being partial in some way.  Do you look for a certain type of person?  How on earth do you make that random?  Maybe all it takes is a game like... whoever is the next person to walk through the door gets the card.  That's random enough for me I guess but it's almost, how shall I say... risky.  It's a scratch ticket.  Should the thought be that it should go to someone who needs the money, or, I'm embarassed to write, someone who LOOKS LIKE they need the money if it's a winner?  Yes, most people deserve an act of kindness but in this case, with this act, I'd prefer to act on someone who looks like they need a little cheering up.

More to follow with the results from this act and details on my #2 Act Of Kindness.

Peace.

Holiday Spirit

I'm not sure what gets into people this time of year but it usually goes one of many ways. First, there are the people who are so joyous and happy that you want puke all over their red and green Christmas tree sweater that has light up balls dangling from the branches or some who could easily replace the Grinch in the NYC Broadway musical. I am somewhere in between. Monday night certainly tested my holiday spirit...

Monday nights are great at the YMCA that I go to...no swimming lessons for the bambinos, no boys basketball in the gym, no karate classes. Basically not many kids which means not many adults either. This is a great night to swim and this is where I always am on Mondays. I had a great swim. A tempo session given to me by my coach. Long enough to make me feel like I actually burned a few calories and short enough (because I'm a speed demon now...ok, that's a lie) so that I can get home at a reasonable hour for dinner. The locker room is basically small but has 3 rows of lockers with benches in between each row and then another long bench in front of another set of lockers. Now, I'm somewhat shy when it comes to dressing in front of others in the locker room. I try to keep covered with my towel and make it a point to certainly not walk around nude even if I am alone. Anyway, I have my shit spread all over the bench like a yard sale and this woman about my age comes into my row and proceeds to open lockers to find an empty one. As I'm standing there with my towel wrapped around me wondering what the hell she's doing and wondering how the hell I'm going to dry my legs without everything hanging out with her standing there, she finds an empty locker, looks at me, looks at my stuff on the bench and says, "Can I have some room here?" Back it up, sista...Hold me back! Lots of attitude but what am I gonna say?? NO?? With the attitude that she posed her question, I gave my "you've got to be kidding" glare but somehow, someway, in the spirit of the season, I gently responded "Sure". Great. Now how the hell am I going to finish dressing without embarrassing myself? Am I really that shy? Yes, but that's not even the funny part. As I'm trying to find clever ways to avoid exposure, I occasionally glance her way thinking that I must be getting punked or something since I was alone and I see her struggling to get her bathing suit on (any minute about to hang herself with the sleeve of her shirt) with her clothes still on and wrapped up in a towel in that way when young girls try to put on their bras underneath their shirts. You've got to be kidding me. Lady, you could have easily avoided this trauma you seem to be going through by picking one of the other 2 rows. I don't get people most of the time and how their thought processes work. I'd love to have felt comfortable enough to ask her what she was thinking. Maybe next time. Anyway, I got offtrack a bit but my point is that it's attitudes like this that turn people.  I easily could have fled to the dark side. Lucky for her I didn't. 
With the exception of the financial strain on my wallet, I love this time of year.  The music, the giving, the sharing, the love.  I wish everyone was as fortunate as I am...maybe that explains bad attitudes this time of year or perhaps all year round for some.  My goal is to try to remember that not everyone is happy, for whatever reason, during the holidays and maybe I should try to spread a little of my cheer.

Kegels or diapers?

I'll take Adult Diapers for $200, Alex...

What's worse than sneezing and then realizing you just pee'd your pants?  Sneezing and peeing your pants while in the grocery store and then having to walk around gathering your leeks and scallops knowing in your mind what you just did, quickly passing by the diaper aisle.  The first time you can sort of scoff it off by rationalizing in your head that you need to be more prepared the next time you sneeze...more time to clench up.  But what's the excuse when an hour later you're walking around the Christmas Tree Shop, you feel the sneeze building up, you're more than prepared and still your clenching still isn't enough to form that impenetrable barrier?  There is no excuse besides the fact that I'm getting older and the pubococcygeus muscles of my "pelvic floor" are slightly weaker than in my younger years.  Now I understand the reasoning behind adult diapers. 

But why spend money on diapers when there is a simple solution that doesn't cost a dime and offers many benefits?  Kegel exercises.  Because I'm a google gal, I had to research Kegels and what they offer.  I knew what Kegel exercises were but I never really knew (or wanted to admit) that I would ever actually need to practice them, even after having a child.  After all, I'm strong like Ox!  Ok, apparently not down there, but did you know that there are even pelvic toning devices that exist?  Ones that when you read the descriptions sound and look like toys from that XXX Shop down the street?  Does everyone know this or do I live in a cave?  I think I could get something like this down in PTown without giving away the real purpose of the buy...

Am I wrong?

Straight from Wikipedia:

Pelvic toning devices fall into a number of different types:

• barbells, vaginal weights or cones designed to be held in the vagina. The action of passively/actively retaining the device internally is supposed to improve muscle tone. Barbells are made of smooth, polished solid stainless steel, cylindrical in shape, with a rounded bulge at each end. They typically weigh one pound (454 g) and measure approximately 6+3⁄4 inches (17 cm) in length with a diameter of one inch (2.5 cm) at the widest part. Being made of stainless steel, vaginal barbells are nonporous and can be wiped clean with a cloth moistened with mild soap and water.
• electro-stimulation or TENS devices that administer an electrical current through an internal probe. The current stimulates the adjacent muscles to twitch. 
• rubber resistance balls and indicators. These devices provide a nominal resistance to squeeze against. An advantage of rubber bulb devices is that they provide visual feedback (via a gauge) of how much pressure is being applied.
• progressive resistance vaginal exercisers with springs are the only devices that meet all of Kegel's criteria. They provide a biofeedback that the correct muscles are being engaged and are capable of fulfilling the fundamentals of an exercise regimen by applying a variable and increasing resistive force to maximise the exercise effort.

Seriously?  This sounds like an excerpt from my vibrator manual.

Ok, enough TMI but there are benefits.  Outside of the obvious (keeping your panties clean), they do help both women AND men with sexual function.  For men, they can help restore erectile dysfunction and help with premature ejaculation.  For women, orgasms more easily, more frequently and more intensely.

F the diapers... SOLD!

The Sun will do

Despite how fast the winter is approaching, my mind isn't so much focused on shoveling, how high the thermostat is or when my next oil delivery will be but instead on where do I get packing boxes, how does one travel long distances in the car with cats and 'Geez, can't someone just pack for me?'. There's something to be said about starting to plan early and I guess that's what I'm doing. One (or many) less things to do later. That's my motto. Procastination was never an attribute that was high on my list of desirable qualities so it's just like me to start planning for a move 8 or 10 months in advance. Pictures are starting to come off the walls and every week, there's something new at curbside waiting to catch someone else's glimpse. There are a lot of things to do and think about but most important, there are a lot of emotions to feel. Life is so unpredictable. This unpredictability can be so exciting but at the same time can scare the shit out of you! Enough to purchase that full suit of armour on EBay? No, not quite, but that protective coating that kicks in when you get nervous about life is about up to my ankles thus far. I have to be honest and say that I really like change. Change keeps things exciting and fresh plus, it provides an opportunity to learn something new about yourself. Like....how much you've changed in the 10 years since you last lived with someone else. Yikes!! I'm 47 years old, isn't this about the time when couples start to look like each other? We've got a long way to go, Baby!

The warm Texas sun is where I'm headed. It will be an adventure which will require patience on my part. Since I'm the type of person who wants to get things done right away, waiting for a house to sell (which I've never done) doesn't sound like a top ten on anyone's list. In addition to trying to deal with the simple things like what to take when I'm moving into an already established home and what do I do with the stuff I'm not taking, there comes the realization that I can't make any plans for next year. I can't sign up for any of my standard races. I can't plan for a vacation. I'm playing a waiting game and I haven't even hit the starting line yet! God bless those who have to be around me for the next year because I need some control and this doesn't sound like a very controllable situation.


HELL -- (Heaps of Explanations for that Liquid Lunch)

• What do I bring?
• What do I do with the stuff I don't bring?
• Should I store some of those things for Tyler for when he gets his own place?
• How much does storage cost?
• How will we deal with holidays and vacations when it comes to Tyler?
• Should I drive the UHaul down myself?
• What if my house doesn't sell in a timely fashion?
• How long will I have to pack and get out?
• How much work on the house will need to be done before I put it on the market?  (Although I have replaced the outside light fixtures!)
• Will I get taxed on the profit?
• Who will do my taxes the following year after I move?
• How do you travel for days with cats in the car?
• What if I snap when the cats meow during the entire 4 day drive?
• What if the cats destroy their new home?
• Will Tyler hate me or feel abandoned?
• Will he come down to see me?
• Will I have a job?

...What if the relationship doesn't work out? ...


Ok, so I'm either having a hot flash right now, or I'm getting a little overwhelmed thinking about all of this. Luckily though, I have a wonderful person in my life who will be there for me every step of the way ready to give me anything I need whether it be muscle power or emotional comfort. That alone trumps most of the bullets on my HELL list.  ♥

Move on people! There's nothing to see here but the sun!

Creepers

Happy Halloween!! As most of you know, this is one of my favorite days of the year!  A day when I can dress up, entertain others and scare the crap out of the little kiddies.  Basically, be someone I'm not.  Or maybe from a psychological perspective, be someone I want to be but who would socially be unacceptable.  Whatever...I'm sure it could be analyzed in so many ways.

For me, Halloween planning begins November 1st of every year for the following year.  The perfect costume with the perfect amount of makeup to scare the pants off the kids.  People ask me how I can sleep at night scaring the kids like I do.  And to this I explain...there's a difference between popping out of the bushes yelling BOO for that unexpected scare and standing on my front steps dressed in ratty clothes holding a rubber cleaver making howling noises like I'm straight out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  The kids have options when they reach my home.  They see the crazed me, then they decide whether they want to risk their lives by asking for candy or continue on down the street to the next house.  It's all about giving them choices.  Sure some kids start out brave by making it half way down my driveway then suddenly run screaming back to Mommy, but it's their choice.  Pro-choice, that's me.  After many years of haunting, many kids know not to even start down my driveway but I still get over 100 kids every year knocking on my door.  So they're either growing up and becoming more brave or there are unknowing souls roaming the neighborhood who obviously need a lesson.  Hahahahaha!

Have a safe Halloween!

Kryptonite

As I sit here eating the Reese's and Whoppers from the Halloween candy bags I purchased today, which by the way, it's only October 20th, I'm reflecting on the swim lesson from earlier this morning with Coach Tara.  I only scheduled 3 sessions with her and today was my 2nd.  It went great but good lord, how much more could possibly be wrong with 1 person's swim stroke anyway??  You might as well strap a floatie on me and register me into the toddler swim lessons program on Tuesday nights!  Sheesh.  Don't get me wrong, it's all great information and I feel I'm benefiting but I'm more sore from 500 yards of drills than I am from swimming a mile in my old style!  How naive could I be thinking that my stroke wasn't that bad and maybe 3 sessions was too many to schedule?  I'm sure Tara really only has enough constructive criticism to last an hour...right?

Rotate completely onto your side when you breathe.
Don't bother swimming unless you're breathing bilaterally.
Keep your chest down. 
Keep your elbows up. 
Arms enter the water at 11 and 1. 
Fingers enter the water first, not your thumbs.
Slow down your kick. 
Keep your legs together. 
Superman! 

Agghhhhhh!!!!!  I'm assuming when practicing this pile of information for weeks and weeks, it will all become second nature at some point and hopefully will flow effortlessly but talk about information overload!  It's hard to concentrate on the angle of your arms as they enter the water when your legs and ass are sinking!  I might as well walk the floor bottom down the lane as I'll most likely get there faster! 

*sigh* 

Seriously though, despite the ton of information I've been given in 2 hours total, I do feel I've improved greatly.  Although I may not be getting there any faster right now, the exerted effort to get to that nowhere is much less.  That's all I want right now.  I've always had a love/hate relationship with the swim leg of triathlon but I'm thinking now that maybe these adjustments will at least tip the scale more towards the love side and will hopefully improve my swim enough to help conserve energy for the bike and run portions for those future Half Ironmans.  The improvements have prompted a little excitement in me. :)

Thanks Tara -Tri Kula Coaching !

Back to aimless wandering

Another season comes to a close.  Once again, I'm back to a state of wandering around aimlessly without a training schedule.  Although it's not necessarily a good thing, I'm now able to dictate my own plan.  What does this mean?  Typically for me, it means that with the slightest feeling of fatigue or a sliver of an ache or pain, I stop dead in my tracks with whatever I'm doing...swimming, biking or running.  I'm left with a feeling that I have nothing to strive for.  I'm not lost, just unmotivated. This certainly wasn't the season that I expected.  Many aches, pains, injuries and emotions leading to my less than stellar race times.  Despite all the bitching I managed to spew all over my blog this season, there have been a few notable accomplishments as far as the triathlon season goes. (Ok, I know, it's all notable because I actually have a triathlon season and I'm actually off my ass doing something...blah, blah, blah...) But what made this season different from the last?  I rode a century ride at a last minutes notice and my recovery time was still somewhat impressive after not biking far distances in a while.  I went out of my comfort zone and raced in a couple of different sprints not knowing anyone else racing at the time of signing up (this is huge for me).  Although the injuries were piled up against me, I still managed to squeak in a Half Ironman.  What a different season from last year! 

So what will I do now to prepare for what I hope will be a better season next year?  Well, I will be signing up for a HIM outside of the East Coast to experience something new...most likely Ironman Austin, TX. I plan to train for this seriously since I didn't take any race seriously this year.  I'm not sure what I was thinking but again, emotions were flying high and I pretty much didn't care about anything regarding triathlon.  I'm surprised, quote honestly, that I even made it to any of the starting lines.  Is there such a thing as post first season blues? :)  I need to snap out of it but honestly, I think I enjoy training more than racing.  I think it might be too much pressure for me which maybe, racing outside of this area would help me focus a little more.  We shall see.  I also plan on getting back to basics which for me, is running.  Although I hate it, I miss it.  Yeah, strange, but it does give me a sense of peace despite my sore ankles, knees and hips when I'm done.  I am old but not dead and I'm hoping that getting back into this groove will hopefully alleviate some of those aches and pains that targeted me this year.  My luck, it'll probably make it all worse!

I have goals. Life happens. :)  So my aimless wandering around the triathlon world right now doesn't mean I'm lost...I've just wandered into other experiences of life.

100

100.3 miles on a bike.  I can't say that I ever wanted to do a century ride but since a friend of mine couldn't ride on Sunday, she asked if I wanted to ride in her place.  Why not?  How bad could it be, right?  After all, it's not a race, just a nice looooonnnngggg ride.  No race number. No timing chip.  And I had 11 hours to complete it.  So, I decided to give it a shot with the only reservation I had being that I hadn't ridden more than 60 miles in one sitting.  What's another 40?  The kicker?  It's NBW's Flattest Century in the East!  Now let's dissect the title of this ride.  Like an arrow to a target, I'm sure everyone's attention is automatically drawn to the word "FLAT" not bothering to consider the rest of the description.  "IN THE EAST".  We're not in Texas, folks and this course was not flat.  At least not as it's defined by my dictionary.  Yeah, it certainly wasn't a Lake Placid course but it had it's share of inclines.  More than I expected and more than I wanted.  I even got to a point where going downhill felt like I was going up.  Ugh. Maybe it was that extra 40 miles that put me over the edge because around mile 75, I was ready to throw in the towel.  But I didn't.  I figured it would take just as long to wait for a SAG wagon to pick me up than to to finish.  After all, I could take my time.

It's not a race, it's a ride.  After racing for 2 years, it's hard to get that mentality out of your head so around mile 50 when I stopped at the fuel station to relieve myself (hurry, hurry, hurry!), I looked around and saw people eating, sitting, stretching, talking on the phone, chatting...taking their time.  Then I think to myself, "God woman, simma down now! What are you doing? You're racing against no one and nothing!  Take it easy, you've got another 50 miles to go!"  So my 17 mph for the first half split went down to 15.5 mph total average. 

And why do some team riders have to be assholes?  On several occasions, they wouldn't announce themselves passing so close to me on my left that if I waivered even a little bit, I would have knudged a body part.  Not to mention when they do pass, they don't wait until they're completely past me before moving over, causing me to brake so I don't tick their back tire.  It's bad enough that their wake alone is enough to blow me off the road, they're going so fast.  I know, I know, give 'em a break. They're working so hard drafting the entire 100 miles.

Besides the constant snot rockets that I feared would find me as a target, the only real trouble I had during my ride was my aching back and neck from holding my head up.  When will someone invent some contraption so that I can simply rest my head?  Like at the eye doctor when you have to rest your chin in the little cup.  Yeah, that's all I needed.  Nice and comfy.  And let's talk about the Chamois butt'r.  This was my first experience with it.  The directions say "use liberally".  Right off the bat I'm confused.  Does this mean use the whole tub?  I didn't think so but let me tell you, I used it liberally. I felt like I crapped my pants.  Maybe too much?  So not only do I have all that swooshing around down there, I can't keep my privates in place and I had to constantly lift off the seat to "adjust" and I'm sure I had butt'r cream oozing out of my shorts somewhere.  TMI maybe.  I still can't figure out how men do it.  And now that it's all over, I'm fairly confident that my private parts will no longer function.

I was certainly glad when it was over.  I just wanted to get the hell off that bike!  Next step when it was done, figure out how to kick my leg over the seat without falling over... And how, for the love of cosmos, did I manage to gain a pound this weekend after burning 4904 calories???

 

The sad thing is...

...I don't have to think twice about eating the salsa.

As soon as I drove off the campus of University of New Haven after dropping my son off for his first year away at college, I knew my life would be different and I knew it was going to be a long ride home alone.  I held it together while I was there for the day getting him settled in with the strangers who he would now be sharing his life.  10:30am - 3pm.  That was my alotted time to prepare both of us for the adjustment of our lives and to make sure his new life away from home was as comfortable and secure as it could possibly be.  5 hours to unpack and say goodbye to the one I've raised for 18 years leaving me feeling like I've abandoned him.  I suppose there are good reasons for these limitations.  I suppose some parents might be well inclined to stay the night if they were allowed.  I suppose I might be one of those parents.  I've been trying to prepare myself for several months now but there is nothing that can possibly be done to prepare for something like this.  You could say that I've had months to "say goodbye" and in a way I have, but it's different when you're in the moment.  Wheeling the empty suitcases back to the car is when it all hit me; trying to hide my face under my baseball cap so the cars passing by wouldn't think of me as weak.  Crying for 2 hours home then realizing after that long ride home alone when you pull into the driveway looking at the recently cut lawn that there may not be a reason to have even come home.  Realizing that you didn't take anything out of the freezer to thaw because there would be no one to cook for tonight so you settle for chips and salsa, briefly thinking of saving the salsa for Tyler because it's his favorite kind.  My bad.  It's the little things like starting laundry downstairs and seeing the empty space that used to house his XBox.  Or opening the freezer to have Tyler's mint chocolate chip ice cream staring me down.  All this emotion and I haven't even hit the whole house yet!

*sigh*

Yes, he's only away at college and some parents may deal with it differently or perhaps even be happy that their kids are away.  This is how it affects me because he has been my life for 18 years.  I will miss him plain and simple but I know he'll be ok.  I should be thankful we're at least in the same time zone.

It's Thursday.  I can't wait to see how lovely I look tomorrow for work...

The Games we Play

Today I rode 55 miles in 3:08.  I'm getting faster because perhaps now I actually know how to ride my bike, or I think I do anyway. Or perhaps after a year and a half of triathlon, someone finally told me to take off the geeky reflectors which I'm sure was causing some resistence. ;)  Or maybe my luck today was due to the fact that it wasn't hot out and maybe the slickness on the road due to the rain, "slid" me along just a tad bit faster.  Or maybe I should just give myself a little bit of credit in that I actually may be getting better.  Whatever the reason, I'll take it.  The biking leg is fastly becoming my favorite in this game and sometimes I think about taking the swim and run out of the equation and putting all of my focus on the two wheels.  I can't seem to pull that trigger just yet but we'll see what happens in the future.

Who is it that takes over when I hop on my bike? Suddenly, I'm in the middle of a race. I've placed myself there and there are only two of us with timing chips. I try to catch that invisible rider ahead of me but I can never catch her. That one song comes on that makes me pedal a little faster, a little harder but I continue to swallow her dust because she's listening to that same song.

...just one of the many games I play when I ride.

What games do you find yourself playing on the bike?  Or during any of parts of your training for that matter?  For me? ...

• I never go down to the lowest gear because there's no saving grace after that
• Can I go up that hill the second time around one gear higher than I did the last time?
• How soon before the top of a hill can I go up a gear or two to put more fire in my legs?
• How fast can I speed up before I begin an ascent? Yeah, like it's a mountain.
• I do NOT ride out of the saddle on climbs unless I've completely stopped and have fallen over.
• Can I do the second half of the ride all in the big chain ring?
• I adjust the angle of my ride just so I can laugh at myself.  "this...or this?"

My first Olympic race is this coming weekend and I'm really hoping that I do well despite the fact that I haven't been able to swim since my last race (2 weeks ago)..  It should be interesting to see how I pace myself.  After that, I have nothing planned...and this irritates me.  I do, however, have some swim sessions scheduled with an actual coach to help me with fundamentals.  Yep, you heard me right.  I actually swallowed that pill of pride and asked for help.  After all, two years of swimming and not getting any better...something must be wrong, right?

Has anyone seen my Mojo Batteries?

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts. ~ Winston Churchill

Where the hell is my energizer bunny? I need a zap!

I'm not sure what's going on with me lately but my training schedule, or rather, the execution of my training schedule has been lacking to say the least. I'd like to spit nails but it seems I swallow them instead. I have no mojo and this dive I seem to have taken is disappointing in my eyes. For the past 2 months, I'd say, I've had no qualms about missing days of training whereas in the past, I'd mentally beat myself up for days for even thinking of skipping out or slacking with what I do. Plain and simple, there are other things I'd rather be doing at this moment in my life. A lot of eating seems to be one of those things. Do I need a break? I'm not sure I can say that since I feel I've been on a siesta time-out for more than just a couple of hours. Is it that the gray hairs and saggy boobs that have pounced on me proves that I'm getting old and for whatever reason, I feel like I deserve to just stop? Who could blame me, right? Wrong. I can't really say that either since that doesn't represent my way of thinking in the past. There have been a lot of changes in my life recently leaving me with a lot of things to contemplate and maybe all of those piled up things are starting to affect me negatively...maybe there's a slight bout of depression setting in.

I wish I had something to blame other than the fact that I'm just being lazy but there are reasons beyond my control like the poison ivy that invaded my arms and legs this past weekend leaving me unable to frolic in the pool. I know, I know, fellow triathletes...find some open water. That's easier said than done for me.  And this certainly doesn't have any relevance to my "I'll do it tomorrow" attitude prior to this weekend. The problems I've been having with my knee and ankle certainly have been detrimental to what was once productive training. But these issues are temporary and are getting better so what can I blame now? Nothing.  You would think watching the Olympics for the past 2 weeks or watching my girlfriend complete an Ironman would snap me out of this black hole and inspire me to push harder, but no.  I just need to get off my low rider and step up a few rungs on the ladder.  Now it's time to get off the vacation plane and take out the unknown on my poor bike and my new running shoes.

I need to keep going.  After all, I'm not done yet.

Mudder Style

Tough Mudder.  The new craze that's sweeping the nation...quite similar to 'baby fish mouth'...along with all of the other crazy obstacle course races that are constantly being engineered by people who just want to see other people endure as much pain as possible.  Tough Mudder in California on a ski slope a couple of weekends ago (gosh it's been almost 2 weeks already) was nothing to sneeze at.  I'm a triathlete after all.  There was no need to train, right?  **achoo** 

It was to be a day of hell but we all decided to surround that day with a great vacation out in Cali and when that Saturday arrived, we all started to get a little anxious about the unexpected.  After all, before the race even started we were expected to climb a wall to get to the starting line.  In the near distance we could see our first ascent and I think out all of our mouths came some form of 'You've got to be F*ing kidding me?' not realizing that this hill...is merely a pimple on the ass of Texas.  This is going to be a great day.

If you're not familiar with Tough Mudder, and you haven't clicked on the link at the beginning of this post, it's an obstacle course supposedly designed by British Special Forces to raise money for the Wounded Warrior Project.  These courses travel the world with variations at each site but generally, it's a 10-12 mile course designed to test your all around physical and mental strength.  Now let me remind you that this particular course was on a ski slope.  Generally, the average time to complete these races is 3 hours but this day on the slope took about 5 1/2.  Up and down a mountain 3 to 10 times takes it's toll and I felt just about the same fatigue when it was all over as if I had just completed a Half Ironman.  It was that exhausting. 

To start the day, we were informed that we needed to park in the overflow parking area because the lot at the ski resort was already full.  You would think that's no big deal because the word "overflow" usually implies 'down the street', 'next door at the flea market', '1 mile down at the elementary school', 'the big empty field 2 streets over'.  Good lord I would have taken any of those options but no, "overflow" in this context meant 10 miles in the opposite direction down the 1 lane mountain to the mini airport which then you will have to take a school bus (which apparently is required to pull over and let other cars pass every 2 minutes) back up the 1 lane mountain.  This may sound like an easy jaunt but when you have thousands of participants and spectators trying to get to the resort up that 1 lane mountain and school buses that are breaking down and catching fire from being overworked, it equals about an hour 1 way.  Needless to say, it was bad planning on the part of the Mudder staff.  Especially since we needed to make that same "jaunt" when the race was over.  Did I mention that our cabin was 3 miles from the ski resort?  So yeah, we were psyched we signed up for this race.  This is a great day already.

Let's get to the obstacles.  As I mentioned before, we had to climb a wall to even get to the starting line.  This, in and of itself, got the nerves up.  What the hell was waiting for us?  I'll tell ya what wasn't waiting for us...water.  Dust getting tossed up from the very start of the race.  Our tongues were stuck to the roofs of our mouths and everyone was spitting out dust buckets.  Every corner we turned and at the top of every climb, we were on our knees praying for a water station.  We never thought we'd have to wait almost 2 miles!  And that's not the worst of it.  The only nutrition on the course was bananas.  I wish I could tell you how good those bananas tasted but when we got to every water station, all the bananas were gone and not restocked...  That's right, we had no food throughout the entire race and by the end, we had no energy for the last few obstacles.  Poor planning on our part or Mudder's part?  Lesson learned.

Right, the obstacles!  The most notable obstacles by far...

Arctic Enema. WTF?? A giant pit of water filled to the top with a shit load of ice!  Not to mention the wood beam spanning across the width of the pit which forced total submersion.  Holy numb nuts!  Doesn't sound bad but when you come out and every part of you is numb and immobile, you wonder why you're doing this event at all.  Especially when this is only obstacle #2.  I believe this is where most of the F bombs were dropped that day.

Cliffhanger. This was what I swear had to be an 80 degree incline up to the very top of the mountain.  I also swear that it felt a mile long but was probably not even a 1/4 of a mile.  It sucked and there is no picture that does this hill justice.

Walk the Plank. A 15 foot jump off a plank into the water.  But be careful, those military dudes are telling you to jump when people haven't yet moved out of the way in the water.  Half the lake ended up my nose that day because I was so worried about losing my bandana.

Electric Eel:  Crawling under barbed wire with active electric wires hanging down. Yay.  There's no escape from getting zapped and I did come out of that one crying...not sure if anyone saw that. :)  And I did have a bruise on my ass from a really good zap.

Hold Your Wood. Doesn't sound so bad but when you have to carry wood up an 80 degree incline (I swear it was 80, ok, maybe 50), it's tiring.  And when we got to the top of that incline, we thought we were done.  Nope.  Let's carry that wood for another 3/4 of a mile, shall we?  Kill me.

Electroshock Therapy:  Who wants to run through live wires? Not this girl!  Especially after the Electric Eel!  I wish I could give details on this one but only one brave soul in our party defeated this obstacle.  Yay, Jen!! She rocks!

We finished minus a few obstacles at the end due to sheer fatigue and lack of nutrition.  You girls rock!!  When's the next one???

Rafting 101

Cahulawassee River. A fictitious river in Georgia but I swear that's where I was yesterday...

I wasn't in Georgia but I sure was way the hell up in bumfuck Maine about 20 miles from the Canadian border white water rafting where their most adored entertainment is jumping off a bridge into the Kennebec River.  No thanks.  Every year I go on a trip with a local radio station hoping to get my adrenaline fix in for the year.  I guess you got to know the right people because every year I'm asked to go or I legitimately win the trip.  Hopefully that means I'm good company...or I buy too many rounds.  Along on the trip are about 30 radio station listeners and you know how there's always one in the crowd who leaves that permanent stamp on the trip?  That person who the DJ's rag on for years after?  Well, this year it was the Joe Pesci clone-a-like.  Now, I'm not particularly fond of Joe Pesci nor do I think he's even a titty bit funny (which may explain my rising level of irritation throughout the 2 days) but this guy sounded just like him whenever he opened his mouth...which was too often.  Sort of like an annoying Fran Drescher voice or nails on a chalkboard.  But not only did he talk often, he talked loud. He doesn't need a microphone.  He doesn't need a megaphone.  He's loud.  You know those people...the ones who want everyone to know what they're saying?  I may be just a wee bit cranky pants lately but it's really a good thing that I didn't have my fluorescent duct tape with me because after the first twenty minutes of having to listen to him because he was sitting right behind me on the bus, I was ready to rip off just enough duct tape to be able to wad it up into a jumbo ball that would perfectly fit into his mouth, then duct tape his mouth shut, then his hands, then his feet and then throw him under the bus with the luggage.  *sigh*  It's a good thing I brought alcohol on that bus...unfortunately, he did too which made him even louder.

Typically it takes about 5 1/2 hours on the bus to get to The Forks, Maine which is where the rafting company resides.  We leave at 8am Sunday morning, beers cracked at 8:01, get to CrabApple between 3 and 4 and then we're free to do whatever for the rest of the day.  Then Monday morning we raft, have our cookout, look at our video and pictures, then back on the bus for another 5 1/2 hours home.  It's an exhausting trip and I'm not as young as I used to be but it's free and fun.  Since there's really nothing but moose up in that area, the only thing to do is drink at the bar.  So that's what I did...that's what we all did.  It's always a late night and there's always a few people who don't make it on the river the next day because they're busy puking in their rooms.  They're missing out because they obviously don't realize that the first rapid you hit, you're immediately cured of any hangover.

Anyway, we get on the river and I'm at the front of the raft setting the pace.  We hit the first rapid (hangover gone) and it's incredible!  What was supposed to only be 4500 cfs (cubic feet of water per second) ended up being 6500 cfs for the day.  This is a great flow to ride and the day did not prove that wrong!  However, when the guide tells everyone to listen up because the next rapid today will be brutal.  Well, then you listen up.  And as he proceeds to tell us how we'll enter the rapid (sideways) and everyone will need to HOLD ON instead of paddling through it because the raft will most likely stop suddenly if we hit it just right, I start to get nervous.  If that's not enough..."Oh and Brenda, this will most likely affect (effect? I can never remember) you so it would be great if you could make an extra effort to stay in the boat".  Uhmmmm...anyone wanna switch places with me please???  Jesus save me now because I'm stuck here in this spot and I have fallen out before...it's not fun.  As everyone pats me on the back wishing me luck, I decide to buck up little lady and take it like a beast.  It happened just like he said.  We hit the rapid sideways (on the side opposite me), everyone held on, the boat stopped short just like it hit a wall, everyone on my side of the boat got thrown to the other side but I was so worried about crushing the person next to me that I used every bit of strength I had to not fly into him which, looking back, was probably the defining factor that led to my fate.  Because all the weight was on the other side of the boat except for me, I went flying out of the boat into the water still holding on to the rope, the paddle and my hat.  I tried to hold on but the current was so strong that if I didn't let go, I would have ripped my arm right out of the socket.  So I reluctantly let go.  It's funny, you think that if you're going through rapids that you'll pleasantly roll up the top of each wave and come down gingerly on the other side.  Well it doesn't happen that way, folks.  You pretty much crash through the middle of each wave and you have to make sure you have the sense to time your breathing because the rapids come at you fast!  Anyway, I tried to remember all the safety tips in the safety lecture from the morning but when panic sets in, it's hard to focus.  I was in the last raft of the day and all of the other rafts had already pulled over to make sure everyone made it through the rapid.  There's me in the water with my feet forward, timing my breathing going down the middle of the river feeling like I'm the prize at an auction and everyone's watching and bidding on my survival. Past 1 boat, past the second boat.  Rescue bags being thrown my way but I can't see because I'm either in the middle of a wave swallowing a few fish or I'm wiping whitewater from my face.  Past the third boat... Now because I pay such close attention to detail, I know how many boats were ahead of us so I have a pretty good idea of when my last option for rescue has arrived.  And here it comes...the first boat in our crew.  Then I panic.  If I don't catch this rescue bag, I'll be washed up on shore way down the river surely to end up smack dab in the middle of a scene from Deliverance.  I think I can already hear the dualing banjos....  I quickly get my senses back and watch as the guide throws me the bag from his boat.  If I don't catch this bag, I'm screwed because it's a long ride down the river even at 6500 cfs and there are still some monster rapids left!  I don't want to go through those rapids on my back!  There's 75 feet of rope in the bag so even if I don't grab the rope, I have to at least grab that bag!  How hard can it be, right?  Well, it's hard when your panicking.  I missed the rope because I was going too fast but luckily, the bag was tossed slightly past me and I was able to grab it.  Ok now, 75 feet of rope has to come to an end.  I can't grab the rope yet because I'll burn my hands so soon, I need to prepare myself for a massive jerk.  And....there it is.  I thought my arms would be ripped out of my sockets!  That poor guide.  His workout for the day is done because I'm sure pulling a 135lb woman 75 feet against the current isn't an easy task but that's what they train for, right?  Maybe he deserves a tip for saving me.  :) 

All of this still holding on to my paddle and also managing to keep my hat on and my contacts in!  What seemed like an hour in the drink was really only about a 2 minutes.  It's amazing how much shit goes through your head in that short amount of time!  I believe my adrenaline quota has been met!

70.3 from hell

The temperature of the water was 69.5 at the Patriot Half Ironman.  I thought this might be a good sign as to how the day might turn out once I crossed that finish line.  But alas...

I was pretty excited about the race even though I hadn't been able to run in a couple of months and the few times I did run I felt great so I didn't feel there was anything to worry about.  The water was warm for the swim so I opted out of my long sleeves and I was so glad I did!  As usual, I stayed at the back of the pack before the gun went off hoping I could work my way in as people started claiming their own space.  Things were going smoothly for awhile then it started getting a little choppy...who would have thought those little chop waves could push you so far off the course?  I think I spent half the time trying to work my way closer to the buoys and I'm sure that I swam an extra 1/2 mile in the process!  When you fight your way back across traffic like that though, you're bound to run into a few beasts who won't stand for getting their stroke interrupted so for those times, I got my goggles punched off... for a total of 3 times.  Maybe I still have some things to learn.  T1 was uneventful with the exception of getting a cramp in my left calf muscle taking off my wetsuit.  That, of course, affected the rest of my race because it was a pretty bad cramp and it is still sore today.

Not one porta potty that I saw on the bike course.  Not one.  During my 70.3 last year I had to pee so bad that I tried to relieve myself while riding and I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't relax enough, worrying about peeing on someone behind me.  This time...well, I had no choice but to give it another try because my bladder was so far extended that my quads were hitting it with every pedal stroke.  And this time I was successful!  Ahhhhh, relief.  But as much as my power felt restored, it was one of the most disgusting things I've done in a long time and I'm not quite positive I'll ever do it again.  Maybe next time I'll just consider wearing a diaper or better yet just put one of these on my bike seat to soak everything up!  Yes, this is a true story...right next to me on the bike rack.

Besides all the grease that ended up on my face from fixing my slipped chain and my piss excursion, nothing really much exciting.  I felt good and I made good time.

As I'm pulling into T2, the path they're making everyone take to get into transition is all the way down at the opposite end of the run out.  Guess where my bike is?  Yep, at the end of the run out.  So as I'm biking in, I only have to take maybe 12 steps to get to my bike but instead, I have to run all the way to the other end of transition and then run back up the entire length of the transition area to get to my bike.  I see where this day is headed...hence, the lengthy T2 time.

Who's taking pictures?  Why didn't anyone tell me I looked like a member of KISS with the chain grease all over my face?  When your girlfriend tells you that you look beautiful, you should believe her, right?  The pictures tell a different story.  Anyway, as I start my run, I give every ounce of effort to look strong for my loved ones cheering me on.  But my legs are so weak!  I knew that I was in trouble when I had to stop 3 times before I reached the first mile!  This is gonna suck.  I guess I didn't do enough bricks during training but eventually my legs came through for me.  Then at about mile 4, my ankle started to complain from a previous injury.  Not the normal running kind of complain that's typical for me but a true pain.  One you can't push through.  This was the start of a lonnnngggg 13.1 miles.  All I can think is that my ankle was weaker due to the lack of running.  It sounds good but it didn't feel good.  On top of that frustration along with my sore calf muscle, let's pile on the fact that I needed so badly to take a crap!  3 porta potties.  All with a line of people waiting.  Yep, for the entire 13.1 miles I needed to go to the bathroom and couldn't.  I'm sure all of my tri friends know that it's not easy to run with that pain.  I've been reduced to a mere trot but I did finish.  I guess I should be thankful for that even though I added 30 minutes to my last HIM...*sigh*.  My hope was to finish under 6 hours.  I wasn't anywhere close to that but my disappointment isn't really with my time but that I don't feel I pushed myself to my fullest potential.  6 hours wasn't realistic in my condition but I was hoping... I know I should still be proud.  I just can't, not this time.  But I am so very thankful for all the support I had that day!  It's such a long day for spectators, I know this first hand.  So thanks to my family and friends for being there for me!

Next up...Crabman and Cranberry!~ oiy!