My First Triathlon

So, normally I don’t post too much about my athletics because I’m not much for bragging, or what I consider bragging because I’m the only person in my small circle who’s doing it; but I joined this triathlon group after reminding myself that I had told myself that I would be more engaging.  See, groups can be cliquish and snobby and quite unwelcoming; which is what I encountered on my way to becoming a triathlete.  Runners are the worse.  If they don’t perceive you as an athlete or someone who can run fast, forget about it.  You’re lucky if you get an introduction, more less someone to run with you.  So, I told them to kick rocks and went on my way.  

Anywho, being raised an only has its perks.  I trained alone for my first Tri in 2012 and overall I did well.  My swim was exhausting. There was splashing, walking, gasping and waayy too much effort, but I made it. It was a pool swim and by the time I finished the first circle, I was ready to go.  Good thing they let you walk and use the lane lines, otherwise some of us might still be there, me included.  I finished in 16 minutes which oddly enough, was exactly what I thought I would do.  My swim lessons were mediocre because (1) too many people in the class and (2) we never really did swim/stroke/deep water. Didn’t matter that I was near the end of the swimmers, my 28 chicklets were still shining as I trotted off to the bike.  Now, every thing I read talked about transition but here’s the thing, I didn’t really think it mattered.  I can’t put wet feet into dry socks and so thus began my tradition of Primping in Transition because Prettiness NEVER takes a back seat.  I did well on the bike, except for the hills.  Good Night Irene those things were a killer.  Made it back and again, PiT took over.  I don’t buy into that whole “If you still look pretty, you didn’t work hard enough” foolishness, reason being, I ALWAYS know where the cameras are and No, I’m not vain but I’m not buying an ugly race photo either,  you can miss me with that. At the end of my run, I turned towards the finish line, saw my friends and I felt a wave of emotion come over me.  I flashed my Orbit smile and raised my arms up and that was and is a winning image.  I had that made into a magazine cover to commemorate the occasion.  When I see my time I chuckle, PiT got the best of me, but I finished. PiT is something I’ve built into my schedule.  Honestly, I’m not too concerned about time, I’m one of those people who just wants to finish because whether I’m first or last 9Ricky Bobby voice), you will still call me a Triathlete. My medal will look different only from the those who are crowned Champion.  

Some people are annoyed by those of us who “just want to finish” but since I’m not competitive, not in that since, my training and effort will pay off by way of my finishing injury free and finishing strong.  My friends ask me all the time, “Why do you do it?” and I say because I can, literally.  I know soo many people who can’t do much and I figured, since I have full use of my body, I’m going to move until I can’t move any more.  I’m highly creative and I have ADD ( I think) so I get bored, quick.  That’s how I started doing Tri’s in the first place.  I will probably never do a 26.2 mile race because I’d be too bored.  Tri-ing is a lifestyle and like all lifestyles, everyone’s is different.  So, this group I joined, turned out to be pretty cool.  I had my doubts at first because, as I stated, groups can be tricky. New people can be annoying, veterans can be a**es; so like a box of chocolates, you just don’t know what you’re going to get. To my delight, I’ve really enjoyed the group.  I’ve learned tons because I don’t ask a lot of questions or if I do, it’s to see if people really mean what they say when they say you can ask anything.  I listen (read) a lot from what others in the group have to say and then I research to see if it’s for me.  I take offense to nothing or at least try not to because nothing is about me, so again, I just listen and take note.

I’m not sure how long I’ll do triathlons before I get bored and move on to something else.  Already I have my eye on a summer adventure, L-rd willing and the creek don’t rise, and it does not involve Tri-ing.  I’m serious about what I do – I buy the gear, gadgets, outfits (yes, that is what I call them) the whole nine because I’m serious about it. Anything I do, I’m all in, even if “all in” is for a brief period. I do Triathlons because there’s something extraordinary about doing 3 events one right after the other and regardless to what your physical shape is or may look like, when you cross the finish line it means only one thing – you are a Triathlete.

I’m not your average athlete because there’s nothing average about me. Well, at one time it was my height (5’5 with brown eyes, smile like the sunrise)  but I’m not average, I am a Real Athletic Woman, my REAL not yours and this is my world.  I don’t allow squirrels.

What ails you?

TourdeCure – Team GetMended.com

Hello and Happy New Year.

Yes, I know it’s been what seems like ages since you feasted upon my writing goodness but fear not, I have been working diligently on my book and a play, so your patience is appreciated.

I am writing today to ask for your support. My team and I are riding to cure Diabetes and we need your support. If you have it to give and feel led to give, please consider supporting my team with a donation. If you do not have it to give, please pray for our team and all the TourdeCure riders that we will all be successful in reaching our goals.

Here’s how to help:

Online donations:
1. Make a donation to one of our riders. Go to http://tour.diabetes.org/site/PageServer?pagename=TC_homepage
Click WHY RIDE
Select MAKE A DONATION

2. Select Search for a Team
Type in GetMended.com (upper/lowercase is not required)

3. Click on GetMended.com (team page appears)
Click on Donate to a Rider
Select the Rider you want to donate to (follow the prompts) or you can donate to the Team if you think we are all just so AWESOME, no need to choose!! 

Tell your family, friends, enemies and everyone in between. I’m helping the world GetMended by riding for a cure.

Thanks a million!!

Read the label. Scan the barcode.

What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and everything nice
That’s what little girls are made of.

What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails and puppy dog tails
That’s what little boys are made of.

Do you remember that? I sure do. Well nowadays you better replace that sugar with Agave or Splenda and better check to see if it is gluten free because little girls today are made of something that smells nothing like sugar and spice. And snips and snails and puppy dog tails seem to have been replaced with shotguns and police chases. Just what are we, you made of anyways?

Me, I have no idea. I imagine blinding smiles, twinkling eyes, the “warm and fuzzies” and all the pleasantries associated with being The I AM THAT IS E. I was listening to a podcast and heard it said that we are the remnants of adversity, for it shows exactly what we are made of. Now, when you first hear/see remnants, leftovers is what comes to mind, I know it did for me. Leftovers. Hmm, I don’t eat leftovers, at least not the next day and depending on what’s leftover, not at all. Then I thought about hotdogs. Ewww! Never eat them, ever. Never have, never will. Taste like Froot Loops when you burp and I hate Froot Loops. Old pieces of fabric and carpet are synonymous with remnants.

Leftovers. Scraps. What’s left. All those nouns/adjectives come to mind when you see/hear the word remnants. But then I had a Shawshank Redemption moment. Love that movie! Old Andy Dufresne, dug a tunnel for nearly 20 years and “crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can’t even imagine, or maybe I just don’t want too. Five-hundred yards… that’s the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.” Talk about adversity! Put that in running language – 1 mi @15:00 min/mi (this is a brisk walk for some) would put him at 7:30min pace at .5 mi. mark. Seven minutes and thirty seconds. Seven minutes and thirty seconds of crawling “through a river of shit…” Seven minutes and thirty seconds of adversity. “All they found of him was a muddy (yeah right!) set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub.”, the remnants of his adversity.

What are you made of? Do you have seven minutes and thirty seconds worth of SmartWater, Cliffbar, NO Xplode, G2, Guarana, Ginseng, 5-hour or whatever $2.49 hydrating, caffeinated supplement you need to help you sustain and endure what life throws at you? Do you have seven minutes and thirty seconds worth of faith, hope, courage and trust? Ever notice how long leftovers stay in the fridge? Guess there’s something to leftovers after all.

Me. What am I made of? Well, that depends on the season. Fall/Winter and early Spring (still cold out)? Well I’m no Andy Dufresne but I can best .5 mi @ 7:30 pace. As for late Spring and Summer; Jeff Dunham and Bubba J were talking. Jeff to Bubba J: Do you know what AA is? Bubba J: That’s for quitters.

Sugar melts and spice blows away
Saving my leftovers for a cold winter’s day
Spring, summer adversity?
No where near 7:30
I’m flopping on the ropes
Swaying in the breeze
Battling MotherNature’s
Pollen, heat, grass and trees
Too hot, too messy
For digging down and deep
I’ll watch from indoors
From the elements, myself to keep
Watching from the window, I start to cry
No sadness crazy, allergies, itchy eye
Steroids, nose spray, allergy Rx and rest
I’m neither discouraged nor worried
For power is perfected in the midst of weakness

and that, boys and girls is what I’m made of. What’s on your label?

last name EVER, first name GREATEST

I love writing because it’s impossible, at least for me, to take myself seriously when writing random thoughts. Next time I’m at a function that requires me to wear a nametag that is what I’m going to write… Hello, my name is GREATEST. Ohh the looks and questions that would come, but then again, in this day and age when people are named after numbers, shoes, animals and magazines, GREATEST may seem a trite dull. I humorously mentioned to my husband that I wanted to be THAT person, who when conversations turned to events, adventures, etc., I would be the person to say, DID THAT! It actually came from some rap song where the rapper sings diiiidddd thaaaatt. My husband said I wanted to be a topper, you know, that person who tries to one-up you and I guess that may be what it is, but for me, it’s more about the look of surprise and utter astonishment that I would probably get from people. See, I don’t look like the adventurous type. I don’t and I know it, which is why I’m embarking on my DID THAT journey. It’s my version of a bucket list and since I’ve never known anyone to die from or because of having kicked a bucket, my theory is B or B: Bust! Body or Bank Account: Bust – whichever one goes bust first. The rapper Eve bills herself as a pitbull in a skirt. Me, I’m more of a hybrid/crossbreed. A nail-polished, jewelry studded poodle with the heart of a human, strength of a Rhinoceros Beetle, tenacity of a Grizator (grizzly/gator) and Honey Badger. Take a minute to process that visual.  Point is, stop judging by what you see, but since we know that ain’t gonna happen, me and my DID THAT journey will continue. Try it. Next time somebody is talking about something they did or whatever, just say, DID THAT and watch their reaction. If you do it, let me know how it goes. As for me, I’m no topper or one-upper, not my style because I really don’t care about you or what you have because I already think I’m cooler than you – cue the song.