2013 Nautica Malibu Triathlon

It was 4:05 a.m. when I joined the line of cars at the Zuma Beach entrance. The gates were scheduled to open at 4:30, but the line was moving steadily. By the time I parked, it was 4:20. My two goals for the day: live and finish safely. In my car, under the cover of early morning darkness, I prayed. After several days, the huge knot of fear in my belly had not subsided; it still rolled around. "If you're going to vomit, best to do it now." I thought. I didn't. Spotlights and tail lights flicked on around me as participants gathered belongings and made their way to the triathlon staging area. I fell in behind a group of young volunteers who complained about the early morning call time. I found the WB tent and part of our tri team. The flurry of tent activity made me anxious, so I moved toward the water. I could hear it. I could smell it. I couldn't see it. I tried to imagine perfect conditions - calm, inviting - and prayed the light would show just that. A couple of teammates came over and asked if I needed help. Questions tumbled out, one right after the other - where do I leave my bag? Where do I go? How do I find my team? Where do I start? When do I start? What do I do? When do I put my wet suit on? What is going on? My patient teammates answered every single one of my questions, peppering their answers with words of encouragement. Good god, I needed to hear that! That really helped to ease some anxiety. I found my relay team in the transition area, had a group pep talk and reviewed the event activities. I was feeling better. I knew what to expect, what was expected of me in the transition and how things were supposed to work. To help ease my fear, my relay teammate introduced me to another WB team member. This was her 2nd triathlon. She taught herself how to swim last year by watching YouTube videos! Holy smokes! I was truly inspired. After the pre-race meeting, I made my way back to the tent to put on my wet suit. I watched the water, noticing the currents and waves. At that time, it wasn't bad at all. The water looked good; kinda calm, almost inviting. Such a tease. Wet suit, swim cap and goggles on, it was time to move down the beach to the start corral. I noticed a woman in a WB jersey, so I called out "Go Team WB!" We introduced ourselves and started chatting. She couldn't have been more calming and encouraging. I felt much better - confident, encouraged, strong, determined. I can do this! I walked into the water to flood my suit, get used to the water (62*) and watch the swimmers. A gal approached and I recognized her from my first ocean swim clinic. We went over the lessons learned, trying to remember do we dive under or over these type of waves? I was concerned that the water was getting rougher. She was concerned that the current was pulling against the way we were supposed to be swimming. The water wasn't calm anymore. I joined the yellow caps of Wave 11, waiting for our turn. 

::air horn::

And, we're off!

I didn't run down the beach. The advice I was given was to stay at the back of the pack and stay to the outside of the pack. Since the currents and waves were breaking/pulling south, I opted to stay on the inside so I wouldn't be pulled too far out or off the north-heading course. I set my sights on the orange buoy and moved towards it. All I had to do was round it and hit the 350 yard straightway portion of the course. This was really hard. It was much harder than I expected. People splashing and flailing around me. I'm swallowing waves of salt water. This is NOT swimming at the YMCA! I lost my bearings, lost sight of the buoy. When I found it again, I started my swim strokes. That's when I felt the leg cramp. I switched to side stroke, which didn't help at all. I called for help. A life guard was on me in seconds. "What's wrong? You okay? Grab the board." I managed to say "leg cramp" as I grabbed the board. I raised my leg and he helped stretch the muscle. "You okay?" I nodded and moved toward the buoy once again. As I rounded it, the cramp was back. I yelled out again and the lifeguard was there in seconds again. He grabbed my leg, my calf was pulsing, spasming. I couldn't make it. I asked him to take me in. I cried and yelled 'FUCK!' as the jet ski took me to shore. 

I sat on the beach, crying. I tried to massage and stretch the cramp away so I could at least stand and walk to the transition area. "Honey, are you okay?" A lady in a purple visor knelt down next to me. "Can I help you?" I don't know where she came from, but she was amazing! She helped me stand and let me lean on her while I walked. All the while she said encouraging things - you're so brave, what a good job you've done, you're a winner, you did it. She pushed me to run up the transition hill and yelled "Way to go!" 

Making my way up the hill, I heard cheering and clapping and encouraging words from the people lining the path. They didn't know me, they didn't know my name. They cheered anyway - "Good job, yellow cap!" I didn't finish. The cheers made me sad.

My relay team spotted me and rushed to our transition lane. Words of encouragement as we made the switch of the timing chip from me to our cyclist. And off he went!

I told my relay runner what happened. He made no big deal out of it - "Girl, you signed up and you showed up. Then, you got INTO THE WATER and tried your best! I would NEVER get into the water. BUT YOU DID!" We hugged it out. A few minutes later, a volunteer came by and handed me a medal. I refused it. My relay runner told me to take it, I deserved it.

I was disappointed the rest of the day. There was so much going on as we waited for the bike to run transition, that I was able to push that feeling aside. Once I got into my car for the drive home, that disappointment took hold. It wasn't until late in the day today that I was able to feel proud of myself. 

I did sign up. I did show up. I did get into the water. I did my best. That's a lot to be proud of.

NaBloPoMo 11.15 - Mentoring 11/12

Saturday's 1-on-1 mentoring session was fun! Neither one of us can make a decision to save our lives, so we sat in my car for several minutes, giggling. With no lightbulbs going off, I asked her to show me where she goes to school. As we drove through the parking lot, she gave me the run-down of her day - where her classes are, how far those classrooms are from her locker, how having Zero Period PE is great because you put your gym clothes over your street clothes and you get to toss a ball against the wall ("That's what you do for PE?!" "Yeah! Sometimes I walk." Good grief!). She likes the school and is bummed she missed her first dance.

Waiting for the light to turn, I asked if there was a mall around or a Chuck E. Cheese or something. She tells me there's a place called Power Station that has games and videos and stuff. Sounds cool as she describes a game akin to the Claw thing but it uses a key and the prizes are iPods, iPhones and iPads! Sweet! Then, she says they have Skee Ball. Aww yeah! I am in! Skee Ball is my absolute favorite, I tell her. I'd spend all my quarters on it. She laughed - 'they don't use quarters'. Pfft! Whatever they use, all of 'em are being used on Skee Ball. Until I saw Dance Dance Revolution. Holla! I love me some DDR. I suck at it, but I still love it.

We spent some time playing Skee Ball, DDR, Deal or No Deal and a couple of games that give you tickets for spinning wheels. We collected over 1,200 points (11,000 shy of the Easy Bake Oven I really wanted. And, in her infinite wisdom, she asks me "Don't you have a real oven in your house?" Pfft. Not. The. Point.). I'm pretty sure we spent more time hemming and hawing over the prizes than we did playing the games to get the points. We got Friendship Bracelets, birthstone rings, pencils and more Tootsie Rolls than I've ever collected trick or treating. What a great time.

Then, we headed to the food court for lunch. Now, let me rewind to a couple of weeks ago...we're in a group session, playing Pictionary and eating pizza. She answers her sister's question with "No, I'm fat." My head whipped around so fast! I was stunned. She's thin as a rail and those words coming from her were so surprising. And, it made me sad. When I dropped her off at home, I told her we are going to talk about her statement. I really wasn't sure how to handle that. I'm not her mom. I'm her friend. Her friend that has her own body image struggles. The only thing I could do would be to start a conversation, a dialogue and hope my message gets across.

So, back to lunch at Panda Express in the food court. I asked if she remembered her comment and my reaction - "Yeah, you were MAD!" I told her the comment made me mad. I couldn't believe she thought she was fat. I was honest - the comment made me mad because she boiled everything she is down to one thing - being fat. I told her she is so much more than that! She's smart and a good friend and a good sister and she's helpful and friendly. I gave her examples of each trait I listed. I told her of my own issues with body image. She told me I was beautiful and nice and she liked that I showed up for mentoring. That was the sweetest moment ever. I stressed how the comment made me angry, not her. She said she understood; and I truly hope she does.

We'll have a group session on Saturday and I'll follow-up with her. I'm so glad we were able to talk about body image and what we think of ourselves. And each other.

NaBloPoMo 11.9 - RIP Heavy D

just learned that Heavy D died today (11/8)...this scares the shit out of me.

He was 44.

I am 44.

He was overweight.

I am overweight.

This is fucking scary. And it's one of my greatest fears - to die in my sleep, unexpectedly. This is why I'm an insomniac. I don't want to go to sleep. When I was taken to the ER last year with chest pains, I set my alarm to go off every 45 minutes to ensure I'd get up...I know it doesn't work like that. It helped me at the time. But I know it's just not how it works.

Heavy D had lost a lot of weight. I don't know how he did it; just know that he did slim down a lot. According to news reports of his death, he had apparently/allegedly gained back 'some' weight. Did he have a stroke? Did he have high blood pressure? Did he lose weight too fast? Did he regain too much weight? Could his heart not take it? My mind is spinning and imagining all sorts of ridiculousness. This is fucking scary! If this isn't motivation to get my fat ass off the sidelines and join the game, then I am already dead.

I'm a fucking mess.

a little progress, a little piece

3 drawers cleared, cleaned out. I was able to toss most of the stuff in those drawers; though one was filled with pictures. Loads and loads of pictures spanning my life. It would have been so easy (and, typical) for me to stop and reminisce over each picture...but I didn't! Nope. I left them in the drawer and moved a few other related items in (frames, photo album, etc) to be dealt with and moved at a later date. It was easy to stick to my plan.

I moved the tea cups and saucers from the kitchen ledge to another drawer, taking time to wipe each one clean. I had earmarked an article in one of the REAL SIMPLE magazines oh-so-long ago, the idea sticking with me for a couple of years - use mismatched tea cups and saucers as jewelry holders. Brilliant! When I arrive home, my habit is to kick off my shoes at the front door, remove jewelry and drop it on the TV stand. When I leave home, my habit is to grab jewelry for the day and put on shoes. I need to remove that clutter from the front door area. So, with the tea cups and saucers fitting perfectly into one of the drawers, I moved my jewelry in...soooo cute! Necklaces, earrings and such in little tea cups; bracelets and bangles on saucers. I may have to move 'em to a bigger drawer so I can fit more tea cups in...but that's for another day.

I cleared out more...wait...ooh! I cleared out FOUR drawers! Yay me.

Then, I sat on the floor and sorted through papers. Good grief I have a lot of papers! Most of it is junk mail and coupons and PennySavers and crap and more crap. I went through a couple of bags stuffed with crap and a box of stuff previously in my car.

I now have clear space. Not little foot paths...true actual clear space. Space! I may actually be able to walk across my floor in the dark without my glasses. OK. That's a bit extreme (maybe)...but it's space. Space as a result of progress. Space as a result of me *doing something* instead of *saying something* - and it's a peaceful feeling. I did hit an emotional block. I did sit for a bit, anxious and stressing. So, I left it and moved to something else. That was new - moving on instead of sitting and wrapping myself up in the stress and emotion. I changed the music and moved around it.

I now believe my April 30th deadline is honestly truly doable. I believe I can do this. Hell, I AM doing it!

I'm proud of myself...and feeling a little peace.

Yeah, I feel good :)

NaBloPoMo 7.4 - Saving Myself

"Many people live with a tormentor in their head that continuously attacks and punishes them and drains them of vital energy. It is the cause of untold misery and unhappiness, as well as of disease. The good news is that you CAN free yourself from your mind. This is the only true liberation." ~ Eckhart Tolle

Today will be my Independence Day...freedom from this clutter.

Freedom - my freedom - will be a change of mindset.

Creative Writing Homework 04.06.10

Homework assignment - our character experiences an epiphany that alters his/her life. This didn't turn out how it was supposed to...

I've been writing my homework for three days. It's not coming. Well, that's a half-truth ~ words for my homework are not coming. Words for what's rolling in my mind are coming fast and furious. It's this damn clutter! Clutter, mess, compulsive hoarding, piles, piles, piles, mess. I've stopped making progress. I was content to sit back and accept what I had accomplished and call it done. I was content to test myself, ensure I could maintain, not undo what I had done. "I'll just lay this sweater here. I'll hang it up later/tomorrow/this weekend." That sweater was covered by this shirt and that scarf and this jacket and this sweater and these magazines and this jacket I wore because that other jacket is is somewhere in this pile. OK, hang it up. Okay - moving forward. Aw crap! Now it's wrinkled! I have to iron it/take it to the cleaners. There's a pile for that over here but it's too high, so I'll leave it in this pile so the clothes don't fall and create a mess. All the clothes are wrinkled so I'll just leave them where they are. And that's what I do. That's how I think. Twisted, right? Yeah, it is. You can say it. And, as I clear out my living space, I've noticed the weight gain. Losing protection in one area, transferring ti to another. I started to tell myself that it's focus - focus on my apartment now, focus on me later. Then I realized what I'm doing - the protection thing. The overeating is causing some minor health issues that scare the fuck outta me. Yet, I continue to overeat. Most of the time, I stop myself. But the emotions need to be quelled and food is what does it. Sadly, I can't have the final Creative Writing class at my place. I wish I could see it as a goal instead of feeling it as pressure. Then Mom called upset that I won't let her help me. She doesn't understand why I will allow my friends to help but not my own mother. Shame humiliation embarrassment. That's why she can't help.

Interrupting all programs...

So, there I was...sitting in my office, listening as my VP told stories of her trip to Cabo the weekend before...when I noticed pressure and a stabbing pain on the left side of my chest. There was no pain in my arm, no irregular breathing, sweating, nausea. Nothing. Just this pressure, this heaviness and stabbing pain. It was 9:30 a.m.

When hunched over my keyboard, the pain & pressure weren't as stabbing or heavy; so I sat like that. Until 11 o'clock.

That's when I had this tremendous explosion of pain on the left side of my head, behind my eye. Nothing happened to my vision; just pain in my head. And pain in my chest. Still.

I call Kaiser...talk to the advice nurse...and end up in the ER before noon.

All of the test results were good ~ blood pressure, blood test, x-ray, EKG. I left there 4 hours later with the pain unexplained. The doctor said the chest pains were likely due to stress and/or anxiety. "Do you have any stress in your life or at your job?" You're kidding me, right? *Sigh*

Anyway...I was sent home with instructions to 'rest and avoid stress.' You're kidding me, right?

I'm feeling mostly okay today, just a bit of discomfort.

Time off from work has been discussed with my boss; the dates TBD.

And how was YOUR Monday?

I'm baaack

I'm a little stunned I've let so much time elapse...it's not that I don't care. It's just that I haven't been able to craft a sentence lately, much less an entire post. I'll be rambling now, thankyouverymuch.

Creative Writing class has started once again ~ yippee! These women are phenomenal writers. I am in awe and inspired after each class. Our in-class assignments are hit and miss for me ~ I can write immediately about one topic while others stop me in my tracks. I think I try too hard; overthink and don't let it come naturally. I've been working on that on my own. We'll see what happens. Oh, turns out our final assignment is to write an essay. EEK! I have NO IDEA WHAT TO WRITE! We'll be brainstorming in our next class...

Christmas was good. We gathered at my brother's house so his little ones could be at home to open gifts. I was late. The rain, the stupid people driving ridiculously fast in the rain, the spinouts. Good times. I was so frazzled by the time I arrived. Anyway, it was good to be at home with family. Most times I see the fam is when we're celebrating birthdays or special occasions at restaurants. It's fun, good times and all that; but nothing beats being at home, relaxed with the kids running 'round. It was a very loving and warm day. KJ got some sort of device that adds beads to her hair. My bro told Mia "Break it." But the look on KJ's face was priceless as she pranced around with multi-colored beads in her hair. KP got a new Spiderman bike - which promptly fell apart. But seeing him in his gear (Spiderman helmet, elbow and knee pads) was 10x better than him on that bike. And little K-Man. He is all boy and energy! Run! Jump! Throw! Yell! Run! Jump! He's only 18 months old! Sheesh - an auntie can get worn out and rundown by all 3. The best thing is seeing each kid and his/her relationship with my brother. It's beautiful and so loving. "Da!" "Daddy!" "Ahh Dada!" I'm heartstruck every time. Then, I think - WTH?! That's my brother! ;)

What else...what else...hmm...saw the English Beat on 12/20 at the Key Club with The Gentleman and the Wineau. SUCH a great time! Such a bizarre night in terms of people: my myspace stalker was there, a gal I interviewed was there, the Vons incident guy was there, a lovely woman I met via myspace was there - surprising because she's from New Hampshire! We had a great conversation about why she was in town (her brother died and his organs had been donated; the organ donor organization has a float in the Rose Parade on which they are honoring her brother with his picture made of flowers! The organization flew her and her sisters out to see it; and it just so happened that the EB were playing nearby and ta-da! She's there!). Some lady and her drunk husband/boyfriend/lover/whatever were standing so close behind me, I thought we were wearing the same clothes. She was loud. Not normal concert "WOOOOO!" loud; obnoxiously drunk loud. AND?! In my ear. I kept turning around, even asking her to be considerate. But, of course that was a FAIL. She purposely yelled in my ear. So, I accidentally stepped back onto her toes. Oops, my bad! And, somehow my elbow connected with her belly. Oh, dear! Did I do that? Ultimately, they moved. Then fled quickly after her drunk husband/boyfriend/lover/whatever threw his empty beer bottle on the stage as the guys walked off. The security guard was pissed. Not just pissed. But pissed! When people started pointing out the guy, they took off. It's always something at these shows. Always something.

I've been writing and sleeping today. I can't shake this cold! I was on the downside of it before I had a massage...I couldn't fight off those released toxins and it knocked me out. So, I'm struggling, once again, with this sickness. Someone please tag-team me out. I'm over it!

:::yawn:::

OK, back to bed.

Can he really do this?! WTH?!

originally posted by beatgirl 10/28/08

- unbelieveable -

I cannot believe what I witnessed today...

I was at the downtown [Portland OR] Rite-Aid, standing in line at the pharmacy.
There were two girls in front of me and one was picking up her prescription.
I over heard the cashier say "Your prescription is ready but you wont be able to pick it up today. You will have to wait until tomorrow"

The girl was confused...as was I over hearing this.

The girl said "If my prescription is ready, why cant I pick it up? I need it today. "

She was a little frantic.

She said to the cashier "Its Plan B. I cant wait until tomorrow. Whats the problem?"

The pharmacist approached the counter and said "I have your prescription. I will not dispense it to you because it is against my religious beliefs. There will be another pharmacist working tomorrow. You can pick it up then."

My jaw hit the floor

Who the fuck is this guy? Who is he to impose his personal beliefs on customers? What if this girl was raped? Who the fuck cares what the reason she needed it for...who the hell does he think he is? Besides in the wrong profession.

The girl turned to me with a shocked look on her face and said "Can he do that?"

I said "I dont think so" I then gave her directions to another pharmacy in the area.

I proceeded (along with several of my girlfriends) to call the Rite Aid corporate offices and complain.

They were mortified. They said they would contact the store and find out what happened.

We then received a call from the pharmacy manager of the downtown store. She said that although she apologises for me overhearing the conversation that should have been more confidential, that the pharmacist has the choice of whether to dispense medication based on his beliefs.

WTF????

I went off on the manager for awhile and then told her that I will never step foot in Rite-Aid again.

And I wont.

This is not over.

~ Can he really do this?? I am stunned. I need to google this...

I don't need this pressure on...(update)

Y'all know I have five weeks to get my blood pressure down/under control, right? Right. This week, I started back to the gym, joining the one on the Lot because, quite frankly, it's convenient. I mean, get to my office, park, walk to the Lot, workout, shower, dress, walk back to my office. Done. Handled.

Anyway, I worked out 3 of the 5 days this week ~ yay me! I've created a pretty good routine: at the gym by 6-6:15 a.m., cardio, arms or legs, abs and back, cardio again, cool down then hit the showers at 7:30. Excellent! And I only forgot to bring shoes once.

Just took my blood pressure: down 30+ points from the ridiculously high reading last week at the ER. Nice! It's still high - I totally recognize that! - but it's coming down. Relief.

As far as food goes...sigh...I've really become conscious of sodium in food. And it blows. Things I think would be okay to eat? Yeah, not so much. It's tough; this girl loves to eat.

Well, I'm doing it. I am. I'm totally proud of myself :)

Day 1 ~ Let's get it started!

Up at 5:50 a.m. Not so bad, really - although Riley wanted to sleep longer. I didn't get out of the house until 6:25 a.m. however: flashback to high school swim team practice at 6 a.m. and collect calls from the locker room pay phone home to Mom - "I forgot my...(bra, underwear, something)...will you bring it please?" at least twice a week. Even though I checked and double-checked the night before, I had to check just one more time. To be sure. *sigh*

Finally made it to work, then across the street to the Lot and across the Lot to the gym - that's a workout right there! The gym had less than a dozen people in - yay. I didn't have to wait for a cardio machine - yay. So, did cardio and abs and legs today. Yay me!

I'm doing it, people! I'm doing it.

Now, the food part. That's gonna be difficult...

tomorrow, tomorrow

I've got 5 weeks to get my blood pressure down, on its way to being under control.

• Workout ~ I have joined the gym on the Lot - sooo convenient (and reasonably priced). Starting tomorrow morning, I'm there, kicking my ass.
• Food ~ I walked through the grocery store today, looking at what I eat and/or like to eat; trying to find substitutions. I just need to be much more sensible: got carrots and Roma tomatoes for snacking, Zone bars for morning energy to workout, Crystal Light and Propel flavor packs to kick-up my water, and a box of SlimFast for a chocolate meal-replacement treat.
• Support ~ got tons of words o'encouragment from friends! I've got 2 partners-in-crime on Twitter (thanks @demca and @illuminato) who are there in solidarity. Got a couple of messages + a scolding from Scot and WayLo. Jaimes and WayLo threatened me, too. So, working out will only help me kick their collective asses. ;)

I will be tracking my progress...keep me honest...keep me on it.

So, bring it on! I'll bring it down.