I went to a party Saturday night and hung out with some pretty accomplished athletes (multiple Ironman races among them... really super studly folks!). Two in particular spent a large amount of time trying to talk me into a Half Ironman race this year.
I really have no interest in a Half Ironman. I mean, realistically we're talking about 6.5 to almost 7 hours of exercise. No thanks. Not for me. I'm far more suited to shorter, faster races. I'm all fast-twitch fibers, baby!
But their confidence in me has me thinking... I mean, why not? I'm always looking for new ways to torture, I mean challenge, myself. I know people who are far less fit who have finished the HIM distance and lived to tell about it. I know I can swim and run the distances with little difficulty. The 56-mile bike ride scares me a bit, especially when followed by a half marathon... but my training would amply prepare me for it.
Am I nuts to even think about doing this? Shouldn't I focus on my more immediate goal -- kicking the Olympic distance's ass this year? I really want to go back to the Northeast Triathlon and kick its butt. I know I can do better than I did two years ago, primarily because I now know exactly how hard I can push myself (which is WAY harder than I pushed on race day in 2008).
What say you?
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Congratulate me!
I was offered an AWESOME new job this week. After much deliberation (not really... I knew I would say yes!), I accepted it.
As of February 1, I will go back to government as the Public Information Officer for the school district in which I live. As my friend Joe said, I'm going back where I belong.
My heart is heavy at the thought of leaving these kids behind, however. I will stay involved with the Fast Cats track team and the wonderful girl I tutor. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't. As torn as I am about leaving the kids, though, I know with absolute certainty that the new job is a better fit for me -- personally and professionally.
So far 2010 ROCKS.
As of February 1, I will go back to government as the Public Information Officer for the school district in which I live. As my friend Joe said, I'm going back where I belong.
My heart is heavy at the thought of leaving these kids behind, however. I will stay involved with the Fast Cats track team and the wonderful girl I tutor. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't. As torn as I am about leaving the kids, though, I know with absolute certainty that the new job is a better fit for me -- personally and professionally.
So far 2010 ROCKS.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
My goodness!
What a slacker I've become. Work exploded the past month, plus the added stress and general busy-ness of the holidays... well, let's just say this blog is not the only thing I'm WAY behind on!
2009 is coming to a close in two days. In some ways, it's been a wonderful year. In others, it's been bittersweet, stressful, and even depressing.
- A relationship ended. I thought it would last forever; otherwise, I wouldn't have said "I Do." I truly believe we learn from each relationship and experience, and that's certainly true in this case as well. I will forever be grateful for the 8 years we spent together. Some of my fondest memories took place during that time, and they -- and he -- will remain in my heart always.
- Another relationship began. Some might think the timing was suspect or it's moving too fast, but I know -- and those closest to me know -- the truth. I'm reminded of an expression I heard several years ago. "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." The same holds true in this instance. Those who know me know the truth about what is transpiring and when/how/why. Those who wish me harm or spread falsehoods about me... well, screw them.
- I severed ties with some people I had once been very, very close to. Originally, it broke my heart to do so, but their lack of follow-up since then proves that I was right to do so. Screw them too. :)
- My work situation was very up-and-down all year. Time will tell on this one. Time will tell.
- Because of some of the above experiences, I became a bit more jaded and cautious. But because of the addition of someone completely wonderful in my life, I also became more patient. More confident. More hopeful. More relaxed. More at peace with myself and my future and all the opportunities before me.
Whatever 2009 brought your way, I hope you can look back at it and also be at peace with yourself and your experiences. Learn from them. Embrace them, even if they were unpleasant. They are helping you evolve into the person you continue to become.
Be well, friends. And happy, happy new year.
2009 is coming to a close in two days. In some ways, it's been a wonderful year. In others, it's been bittersweet, stressful, and even depressing.
- A relationship ended. I thought it would last forever; otherwise, I wouldn't have said "I Do." I truly believe we learn from each relationship and experience, and that's certainly true in this case as well. I will forever be grateful for the 8 years we spent together. Some of my fondest memories took place during that time, and they -- and he -- will remain in my heart always.
- Another relationship began. Some might think the timing was suspect or it's moving too fast, but I know -- and those closest to me know -- the truth. I'm reminded of an expression I heard several years ago. "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." The same holds true in this instance. Those who know me know the truth about what is transpiring and when/how/why. Those who wish me harm or spread falsehoods about me... well, screw them.
- I severed ties with some people I had once been very, very close to. Originally, it broke my heart to do so, but their lack of follow-up since then proves that I was right to do so. Screw them too. :)
- My work situation was very up-and-down all year. Time will tell on this one. Time will tell.
- Because of some of the above experiences, I became a bit more jaded and cautious. But because of the addition of someone completely wonderful in my life, I also became more patient. More confident. More hopeful. More relaxed. More at peace with myself and my future and all the opportunities before me.
Whatever 2009 brought your way, I hope you can look back at it and also be at peace with yourself and your experiences. Learn from them. Embrace them, even if they were unpleasant. They are helping you evolve into the person you continue to become.
Be well, friends. And happy, happy new year.
Monday, November 16, 2009
The meaning of life
Live honorably
Love with your whole heart
Be kind
Take care of those you love
And leave the world a little better than you found it
The rest is really quite meaningless, if you think about it.
Love with your whole heart
Be kind
Take care of those you love
And leave the world a little better than you found it
The rest is really quite meaningless, if you think about it.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Race schedule
Funds permitting, this what I'd like to do.
Run for MS 10K - Thursday, November 26 (would like to break 50:00)
13.1 New York City - Saturday, April 3 (would like to break 1:50:00)
Lake Placid Mini Tri - Monday, June 14
Stone Harbor Triathlon - Sunday, July 18
Northeast Olympic Triathlon - Sunday, August 15
Diamondman Triathlon - Sunday, September 12
Goal races are the half marathon in April and Northeast in August. Ha! Both of my A races are in months that start with A. Perfect.
Run for MS 10K - Thursday, November 26 (would like to break 50:00)
13.1 New York City - Saturday, April 3 (would like to break 1:50:00)
Lake Placid Mini Tri - Monday, June 14
Stone Harbor Triathlon - Sunday, July 18
Northeast Olympic Triathlon - Sunday, August 15
Diamondman Triathlon - Sunday, September 12
Goal races are the half marathon in April and Northeast in August. Ha! Both of my A races are in months that start with A. Perfect.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I almost died on Sunday
I know that sounds overly dramatic, but it's true. I've now cheated death three times, and the third was just 2 days ago.
On Saturday after a pre-race run with the group, several of us dove into the Atlantic (me first, of course) in our running clothes. It was about 60 and sunny outside... and 60 in the water. Cool but oh-so-refreshing.
Sunday after the race, several of us decided to go in again, and this time we even took a minute to change into bathing suits. The air temperature was even warmer on Sunday, which made the water seem colder. Within a minute of diving in, Missy and I noticed that we'd drifted quite a bit to the right of the group. We commented on it but didn't worry a bit. Dave and Dan were in the water, much shallower than we were. I swam back toward Dave, taunted him a bit (called him a wusbag, if I recall), and swam back out to hang with Maureen and Brandy in the deeper water. Maureen and I got to talking, but we noticed that every fourth word or so a wave would crash on our heads.
"How are you doing?" CRASH!
"Oh! So I didn't tell you..." CRASH!
"It's probably better that..." CRASH!
"... do you feel about that?" CRASH!
"I know, and..." CRASH!
I suggested coming in a bit to get away from the waves, but we were unsuccessful. I then suggested swimming in, since both of us are strong swimmers. After about 5 minutes (honestly, I don't know how long it was), I noticed that we hadn't made ANY progress. Brandy was still a bit deeper than we were, and we motioned to her to come in a bit. The folks who had been in the shallow water were now standing on the beach, watching us... from really, really far away. We had drifted considerably... to the right and much, much deeper than we realized. We were caught in a ripcurrent. A really bad one.
I have to admit that I started to panic. I was so tired from the race and from fighting the water that I hyperventilated a bit. Maureen and Brandy were very relaxed, and even though I didn't believe Brandy when she said, "We're making progress... It's just slow," I accepted it and chose to focus on her calming influence.
One thing you should know: I can't float. Never have been able to. Within 5 seconds of trying to float, my legs fall straight down and I'm vertical. So floating wasn't an option. I flipped onto my back anyway and tried to backstroke so that I could keep my head out of the water; however, not being able to see the shoreline freaked me out even more, so I flipped back over. At this point, Maureen pointed out that Kelly was with us too.
I started a frantic, half-assed breaststroke so that I could move toward the shoreline. I turned around a few times to check on the other girls' progress, but every time I did I lost ground. After a few minutes, I decided to just focus on getting out of the water and THEN checking on the others. I can't tell you how guilty I felt at abandoning them and trying to save myself. The guilt was almost as overwhelming as the terror. Almost. As Dave pointed out yesterday, self-preservation is the strongest influence.
Dave said I did my pathetic breaststroke (which is when he knew I was in trouble) for about 10 minutes. That was after 10 or so minutes of trying to float/tread/swim in with Maureen and Brandy. I was so tired, and I did think at two points, "I can see where people give up. It would be so easy to just... give... up." Thankfully, the urge wasn't strong... but if I'd been out there any longer, I am not convinced I wouldn't have given up. Of course, then I would have been hypothermic within a few minutes because I wouldn't have been generating any body heat by moving. Lose, lose.
Once I got close enough that I knew I was within Dave's earshot, I called out one pitiful word to him.
"Help."
Within seconds, he had thrown off his towel and jumped in the water to help me. At this point, I have to rely on his memory, because I have no recollection of what happened. He said he swam toward me. Once he was close enough to reach me, he extended his hand so I could grab it, then pulled me in close to him. We were still in water way deeper than our heads, so he swam/pulled me toward the shore a little more, then shoved me by pushing my ankle away from him toward the beach. After a few tries, I hit land on my hands and knees. (This is where my memory resumes.) I was so weak that the waves were knocking me over and the sand was cutting my knees... but so grateful to be touching bottom that I didn't care. I stayed on my hands and knees for a minute and then got up. A bit wobbly, but very, very grateful to be alive.
Brandy and Maureen had floated a bit until they got out of the riptide's grasp, then swam in. The last one out was Kelly, and Lora and I waded in to give her a hand when she got close enough to shore.
My emotions since Sunday have been all over the place. Fear. Absolute terror. Gratitude that the ocean gave me back. Guilt that I abandoned my friends to save myself. Sorrow that I caused so much worry to so many people. Shame.
But mostly gratitude.
Seagirls forever.
On Saturday after a pre-race run with the group, several of us dove into the Atlantic (me first, of course) in our running clothes. It was about 60 and sunny outside... and 60 in the water. Cool but oh-so-refreshing.
Sunday after the race, several of us decided to go in again, and this time we even took a minute to change into bathing suits. The air temperature was even warmer on Sunday, which made the water seem colder. Within a minute of diving in, Missy and I noticed that we'd drifted quite a bit to the right of the group. We commented on it but didn't worry a bit. Dave and Dan were in the water, much shallower than we were. I swam back toward Dave, taunted him a bit (called him a wusbag, if I recall), and swam back out to hang with Maureen and Brandy in the deeper water. Maureen and I got to talking, but we noticed that every fourth word or so a wave would crash on our heads.
"How are you doing?" CRASH!
"Oh! So I didn't tell you..." CRASH!
"It's probably better that..." CRASH!
"... do you feel about that?" CRASH!
"I know, and..." CRASH!
I suggested coming in a bit to get away from the waves, but we were unsuccessful. I then suggested swimming in, since both of us are strong swimmers. After about 5 minutes (honestly, I don't know how long it was), I noticed that we hadn't made ANY progress. Brandy was still a bit deeper than we were, and we motioned to her to come in a bit. The folks who had been in the shallow water were now standing on the beach, watching us... from really, really far away. We had drifted considerably... to the right and much, much deeper than we realized. We were caught in a ripcurrent. A really bad one.
I have to admit that I started to panic. I was so tired from the race and from fighting the water that I hyperventilated a bit. Maureen and Brandy were very relaxed, and even though I didn't believe Brandy when she said, "We're making progress... It's just slow," I accepted it and chose to focus on her calming influence.
One thing you should know: I can't float. Never have been able to. Within 5 seconds of trying to float, my legs fall straight down and I'm vertical. So floating wasn't an option. I flipped onto my back anyway and tried to backstroke so that I could keep my head out of the water; however, not being able to see the shoreline freaked me out even more, so I flipped back over. At this point, Maureen pointed out that Kelly was with us too.
I started a frantic, half-assed breaststroke so that I could move toward the shoreline. I turned around a few times to check on the other girls' progress, but every time I did I lost ground. After a few minutes, I decided to just focus on getting out of the water and THEN checking on the others. I can't tell you how guilty I felt at abandoning them and trying to save myself. The guilt was almost as overwhelming as the terror. Almost. As Dave pointed out yesterday, self-preservation is the strongest influence.
Dave said I did my pathetic breaststroke (which is when he knew I was in trouble) for about 10 minutes. That was after 10 or so minutes of trying to float/tread/swim in with Maureen and Brandy. I was so tired, and I did think at two points, "I can see where people give up. It would be so easy to just... give... up." Thankfully, the urge wasn't strong... but if I'd been out there any longer, I am not convinced I wouldn't have given up. Of course, then I would have been hypothermic within a few minutes because I wouldn't have been generating any body heat by moving. Lose, lose.
Once I got close enough that I knew I was within Dave's earshot, I called out one pitiful word to him.
"Help."
Within seconds, he had thrown off his towel and jumped in the water to help me. At this point, I have to rely on his memory, because I have no recollection of what happened. He said he swam toward me. Once he was close enough to reach me, he extended his hand so I could grab it, then pulled me in close to him. We were still in water way deeper than our heads, so he swam/pulled me toward the shore a little more, then shoved me by pushing my ankle away from him toward the beach. After a few tries, I hit land on my hands and knees. (This is where my memory resumes.) I was so weak that the waves were knocking me over and the sand was cutting my knees... but so grateful to be touching bottom that I didn't care. I stayed on my hands and knees for a minute and then got up. A bit wobbly, but very, very grateful to be alive.
Brandy and Maureen had floated a bit until they got out of the riptide's grasp, then swam in. The last one out was Kelly, and Lora and I waded in to give her a hand when she got close enough to shore.
My emotions since Sunday have been all over the place. Fear. Absolute terror. Gratitude that the ocean gave me back. Guilt that I abandoned my friends to save myself. Sorrow that I caused so much worry to so many people. Shame.
But mostly gratitude.
Seagirls forever.
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