tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8588879256868127332024-02-20T19:38:06.368-05:00Bumble Bee RunningBumbleBeeRunning is my journey toward changing everything I didn't like about my life. It’s that complicated, and it’s that simple. Dating and shopping have been replaced by Weight Watchers and triathlon training. Join me on my journey to become my most fabulous self! If this is your first time reading my blog, check out my first 2 posts- they'll help give you the background on me, and how I became a Bumble Bee Running!BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-80641568078823949922010-07-20T22:14:00.003-04:002010-07-20T22:17:02.272-04:00The bee is moving!I've decided to move my blog to WordPress. To continue to follow my blog, visit my WordPress blog <a href="http://bumblebeerunning.wordpress.com/">here</a>!BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-53013687243041998372010-07-19T16:41:00.016-04:002010-07-19T20:11:52.340-04:00Dimethylpolysiloxane....yum?I’ve been on a big organic/natural foods kick lately, and honestly, once I started looking more closely at the ingredients in things, it really started creeping me out. I’ve been looking at calories/fat/fiber for Weight Watchers, and sugar for my hypoglycemia, but I’ve never concentrated this much on everything else. Right now I’m kinda feeling like I’d like to be able to identify the ingredients in my food in a lineup, know what I mean?<br /><br />For instance, sometimes it’s really hard for me to drink enough water, and I like to put low-calorie flavor packets in them for a little fruity taste. Strawberry banana is my favorite-yum! But hold up.....what is dimethylpolysiloxane? I can barely pronounce it and have no idea what it is, but it's in my drink mix. A quick Google investigation later, and I'm disappointed to know that I have 4 boxes of this stuff that I bought on sale I will never, ever be able to drink again. Because, according to Wikipedia, dimethylpolysiloxane... <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />"...is the most widely used</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > silicone</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >-based organic polymer</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >, and is particularly known for its unusual</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > rheological (or flow) properties. Its applications range from contact lenses and medical devices to elastomers; it is present, also, in shampoos (as dimethicone makes hair shiny and slippery), caulking, lubricating oils, and heat-resistant tiles.....As a</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > food additive, it has the </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="text-decoration: underline; font-style: italic;"></span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Enumber E900 and is used as an </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >anti-foaming agent and an anti-caking agent</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >.</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > This silicone can be found in many processed foods and fast food items such as McDonald's Chicken McNuggets."</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><br /><br />Oh yeah, and it's also a main ingredient in Silly Putty. So we've got Silly Putty, caulking, lubricating oils, heat resistant tiles, McNuggets and my drink mixes....that just can't be good. In fact, it seems pretty disgusting.<br /><br />It's usually always easier, quicker and cheaper to buy processed foods...but look what you're getting. I just think there has to be a better way to eat! And I'm trying to find my path to that better way.<br /><br />To replace my old drink mixes, I found <a href="http://www.flavrzdrinkmix.com/">Flavrz</a> drink mixes, which, while not as low calorie, are organic, low sugar, made with real fruit and have absolutely NO artificial ingredients. Brilliant! I'll take a few extra calories if it means I don't need to be a chemist to understand an ingredients listing.<br /></span>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-71942283284196383922010-07-19T16:41:00.012-04:002010-07-19T19:36:57.942-04:00Busy BeeSaturday was a wash as far as exercise goes. James’ band had a show, and then there was a late-night ER visit for a friend who had a concussion...so we didn’t get home until 7:30 am. That certainly justifies sleeping til noon. I was still very tired once I woke up, and the swim and bike ride we had planned was something I didn’t feel physically OR mentally capable of. So that just meant that Sunday suddenly became a super-active, super-busy (but great!) day. No time to slack off! James & I started off with an hour bike ride, sprinkled with a quick run and topped with a gorgeous view. There is a KILLER hill to get up here, so the fact that our bike ride was shorter than usual didn't make me feel so bad. I was still feeling really tired, and the fact that it was hot and I was incredibly thirsty didn't help the overall weak feeling I had, but James really pushed me (in a good way!) to give it my all.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEqRQlZB8cpNqJyQaEODbWYa3dS-M_ueHxiI1n_bvS8KaVWE9Hs1gqwhCbeCsx1v9moDrQvg9vVr4onq59GfmcR0ofKItMq4AI_4vLZKqrertR1f1x_PdFFHir1aqUt3BjO2quGPlaiNo/s1600/101_0848.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEqRQlZB8cpNqJyQaEODbWYa3dS-M_ueHxiI1n_bvS8KaVWE9Hs1gqwhCbeCsx1v9moDrQvg9vVr4onq59GfmcR0ofKItMq4AI_4vLZKqrertR1f1x_PdFFHir1aqUt3BjO2quGPlaiNo/s320/101_0848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495763050142102834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG7Kxp4odl9lC-xSQ5Xp5xSaT4yr-upTJZA6nNjvOdu95IKnXmn0We3nzpeRT9kiwCeNeCXCsGW0Pe3KJYvetWZBJZRNthnmR_X8iubF4tVwPKCUOG0_NidvNzE9eaOCSH9IKUh1cQAoM/s1600/101_0844.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG7Kxp4odl9lC-xSQ5Xp5xSaT4yr-upTJZA6nNjvOdu95IKnXmn0We3nzpeRT9kiwCeNeCXCsGW0Pe3KJYvetWZBJZRNthnmR_X8iubF4tVwPKCUOG0_NidvNzE9eaOCSH9IKUh1cQAoM/s320/101_0844.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495762524810913970" border="0" /></a><br />Then it was off to the farmer’s market for fresh veggies and live music by a friend’s band...oh yeah, there was also fresh black raspberry ice cream and organic pizza topped with nasturtium (flowers! On pizza! How fabulous!). We shared, so I didn’t feel bad about indulging.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwkmOwWS_xzE9kror_WYXliSLwIb_fUdwWErcdyadiJP8dyjBy1fGqi_UQjByf_tJd4I9tY9PqwuoCAJGOe7BdFtxwYq8LxzzKqDL_owss7uTRVU8cMnxwUeGtobsQ06wAl-vBz422U8/s1600/101_0856.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwkmOwWS_xzE9kror_WYXliSLwIb_fUdwWErcdyadiJP8dyjBy1fGqi_UQjByf_tJd4I9tY9PqwuoCAJGOe7BdFtxwYq8LxzzKqDL_owss7uTRVU8cMnxwUeGtobsQ06wAl-vBz422U8/s320/101_0856.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495762269304628722" border="0" /></a>Next up was swimming. We went to a local lake, and since we weren’t town residents it was $17 to get in. 17 dollars! It was worth it, though, because I really need the swim practice. James watched out for my form while I swam some laps. And of course we goofed off for a bit, too, because all work and no play isn’t much fun! Honestly, though, I hate swimming in lakes. It creeps me out a bit. And no one was swimming all the way out to the buoys like I was, so I started envisioning monstruous lake creatures waiting out there to eat me. The good thing about swimming with goggles on is that you can see— and the bad thing about swimming with goggles on is that you can see! Seeing long green slimy grass or even a bunch of rocks makes me think of the creatures that would love to call it home....eww! I think I have too much of an imagination sometimes :) In reality, I know that no lake creature is going to eat me...maybe!BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-51123264864706925132010-07-16T12:03:00.008-04:002010-07-16T12:36:54.637-04:00Nine DaysI know I said this already, but the triathlon has really snuck up on me this year. I can’t believe its only NINE days away! Maybe it’s a matter of knowing what I’m in for this year, but I like this relaxed feeling. I hope it carries all the way through the big day. Don’t get me wrong, when I started reading through the athlete info guide they released this week, I kinda wanted to vomit for a few seconds. But it went away quickly :)<br /><br />I remember last year, I was SO SO nervous the two days leading up to the triathlon. I was a ball of nervous anticipation and excitement. It was like creaking up an old rollercoaster for days. But on the morning of the tri, which should have been the top of the rollercoaster, the height of nervous anticipation and excitement and energy, I was incredibly calm. I can honestly say I was not at all nervous on that day. I was sooooooo ready. So focused and care free. It was great. I hope I can have that same feeling again. It’s my natural tendency to worry, something I’d been working on a lot, so the fact that I was so calm and clear-headed is one of the things I’m most happy about when I think about that day.<br /><br />Then there’s swimming. I survived last year’s swim, but it wasn’t <a href="http://bumblebeerunning.blogspot.com/2009/07/part-2-swim-lessons.html">pretty</a>. I’ll never forget the feeling of choking on the lake water, of being only a few seconds in to the start of the tri and feeling panic sweep over me. It was awful. And I think it’s an experience that has only been amplified by my memory of it. Last year, I was most nervous about the swim. This year, I’m most nervous about the swim AND I have a reason to be. Eeek! But the amazing Audrey took Lola & I for a swim practice the other day, which was wonderful, went great and made me feel much better. We’re going to go again next week, and James is going to go with me this weekend, so hopefully it’ll all be enough to boost my confidence and push away my bad memories.<br /><br />And since somehow, the triathlon is next weekend (oh my gosh I know I can’t stop saying this, but I still can’t believe it!) I’ve already made my packing list for the weekend of the tri, in an effort to calm any nerves that may arise next week. I just feel better when I’m organized. Although I’m sure James & I will be going through the same routine as last year--we sat in my apartment and talked out every step of the next 30 or so hours of my life and all the things necessary to be properly equipped for those hours, in order to make sure I had packed everything I would need. And I still managed to forget my balloon (although thankfully James was at the race site at 4:45am the next day, balloon in hand).<br /><br />I have an interesting new outfit for the triathlon. I had ordered a new tri top--OBVIOUSLY cannot wear the same thing two years in row ;) -- but the company didn’t send m<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczeKenFcMXUk8DvbI_r1YpZnFYyWUf50iV1QngA74a3nM16aV9gRSAsW-b8aZsfcOmTSzI9MWFxAFY4pLuM7GsvkXhyvsFJVZmi75yl6qQxxqKghk9cjHxm-naPpnHUWUQ72u7DTHrC4/s1600/ZS0WTS5110ZOOT14149.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczeKenFcMXUk8DvbI_r1YpZnFYyWUf50iV1QngA74a3nM16aV9gRSAsW-b8aZsfcOmTSzI9MWFxAFY4pLuM7GsvkXhyvsFJVZmi75yl6qQxxqKghk9cjHxm-naPpnHUWUQ72u7DTHrC4/s200/ZS0WTS5110ZOOT14149.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494543841614198994" border="0" /></a>e what I ordered. Instead, they sent me what I like to call my triathlon catsuit. When I pulled it out of the box, I laughed. I initially tried it on only for laughs; it’s a one-piece triathlon suit, so the shorts are attached to the top. I was figuring this would be a body-image nightmare. But when I tried it on....it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t much different from my tri shorts and top, and it was comfortable. So...I decided to stick with it! Comfort is key, and I like that since the top and shorts are attached, I won’t have to worry about my top riding up or moving around. And anyway, let’s face it, a triathlon is not the time to worry about being super cute. It’s the time to worry about...nothing :)BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-36350783037490264522010-07-14T19:29:00.004-04:002010-07-14T20:09:43.555-04:00Be here now.Somehow, the triathlon has crept up on me. Last year it was looming large, shadowing everything I did. This year, it's quieter, a pinpoint on the map of a jam-packed summer.<br /><br />I've felt bad about my lower level of intensity, constantly telling myself I need to pick it up, work harder, do more, be better. Get back to where I was. Lose 5 pounds. No, 10 pounds.<br /><br />But something in my mindset has shifted yet again.<br /><br />Yeah, you know what, I'd like to weigh a little less. But right now, it's ok. I honestly do feel like I could stand to lose a few pounds. But overall, I FEEL good. Being active, eating right, it's an ongoing effort that I've made a part of my life. And that's better than working to achieve a short-term goal. The transformation I went through last year, it's complete, and yet it's not complete. It's every day. And that's what I wanted, that's what I set out to achieve for myself.<br /><br />And in this ongoing effort, yes, I'm going to skip the gym sometimes. And it's ok! I'm going to struggle a bit with my knee, but you know what? My 5K time actually isn't that much worse with an injury than without it. And that's ok, too! Because overall, I've made exercise a can't-live-without-it part of my life.<br /><br />And food....ah, yes, food. I'm going to eat too much sometimes, or eat the wrong things. I'm ok with that. Mostly, I want eating to be about health, about energy, about properly fueling my body. But sometimes, I want it to be about enjoyment, about friendship and family and love, when sitting around a table with great people or seeking out an ice cream cone on a hot summer day is about adding to the great moments in my life, not counting the points in my meal.<br /><br />Otherwise, will it ever end? At my thinnest, I still wanted to lose 5 more pounds, when everyone else was telling me to stop. I think, if I choose to focus on weight, I'll always want to lose 5 more pounds.<br /><br />I want to be here now. Be. Here. Now.<br /><br />I could focus on a year ago, when I was 10 pounds thinner. I could focus on last month, when I should have done more. I could focus on next month, when I'd like to weigh 5 pounds less than I do now.<br /><br />Instead, I want to be here. I want to be in the right now and make good choices, but not beat myself up for the slip-ups or the lazy days. I want to love myself for who I am today. Because I love who I've become, a healthy person who is more likely to be running a 5K or climbing a mountain on a Saturday morning than sleeping in; someone who tries her best to eat naturally and organically but still can't seem to resist the occassional french fry.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-13349597400649142332010-05-06T10:47:00.004-04:002010-05-07T14:34:42.628-04:00News flashNews flash: this year is not going as planned.<br /><br />Duh.<br /><br />Honestly, most of the greatest things in my life have been unexpected and outside of my envisioned “plan” for myself. I have actually been MORE successful when I set goals but don’t painstakingly plot out, point-by-point, the path I’ll take to get there.<br /><br />So, when Lola and I made a 2010, prep-for-the-triathlon-5K-super-schedule, I should have known that life sometimes invades the most well-intentioned plans. And that the happiest, most successful people learn how to suck it up and move forward in whatever capacity they can. I’d like to always be one of those people, but I can’t deny that I’ve faltered a bit here.<br /><br />Even so, I’ve never questioned that I will still be standing on the shores of Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg early the morning of July 25th (yes, that really is the name of the lake, and isn't it just fitting that its name isn't simple, either). If it means that I run in pain, then I’ll be running in pain. I hope not to be, but if so, oh well. I’ll deal with it. I still have 79 days from today to strengthen my knee and get better. I’m confident that I’ll be standing strong that morning.<br /><br />A positive outlook, one in which I thought only about today and didn’t worry needlessly about tomorrow, is what got me so far last year. Very few things worth achieving are achieved without a struggle, and I don’t want to be the kind of person who wilts at the idea of something that won’t come easy.<br /><br />I can't leave behind the lessons I've learned-- that what I want, simply and honestly, is to be happy. That I’ve found pursuing happiness rarely leads to happiness; pursue other things, and you find happiness.<br /><br />And I find true happiness in running and writing....they keep me invigorated, give me energy and make me feel vibrantly alive. I need to pursue them without focusing on the obstacles that might stand in my way, because whatever personal successes come from the pursuit of those things are all that I need- no more, no less.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-79173328503440045922010-04-19T17:09:00.002-04:002010-04-19T17:12:51.071-04:00And don't it always seem to go....I’ve been dealing with this knee thing for a month now. In my entire 27 years, I’ve never given much thought to my knees, but now I think about them more than anything else. Or at least, I think about my right knee. The weak one, the one that’s messing with me. It makes clicking noises, every now and again, to remind me that it’s there. As if I could forget.<br /><br />When I got to the orthopedic doctor’s office and sat down to fill out the paperwork, Miley’s “The Climb” was playing softly from the overhead speakers. I almost started to cry, but it also made me feel stronger, more stable. My doctor’s appointment revealed no major damage, but the doctor’s attitude towards my situation once that was discovered frustrated me. I felt like he couldn’t get me out of his office fast enough. I followed him out of the room, still asking questions. While I was relieved that nothing major was wrong, I was still concerned about the pain, what was causing it and how to get it to go away.<br /><br />The first time I went running after the doctor gave me the ok (with the brace, always with the brace), I switched on my iPod shuffle and the first song to play was “The Climb”. I just don’t know if I can explain how much that song affects me, but if you’ve read these words over the past year, you have an idea. The fact that it showed up at these difficult, emotional times is amazing to me, leaves me feeling encouraged, determined.<br /><br />The second time I went running I thought maybe I just needed to push past the pain. Keep running. Try harder. That was not the case. There’s no pushing past it; the pain holds strong. At this point, I can run about 3 minutes before the pain asks me, not so politely, to stop.<br /><br />I don’t have to wear the knee brace on a normal day; maybe it’s a blessing in disguise, but it only hurts when I run. I wish I could tell you that my knee and I were getting along marvelously, wish I could say that my attitude has totally improved since my last post, but that wouldn’t be true. I go back and forth throughout the course of a day, between being positive and feeling down.<br /><br />I started physical therapy, which came with it’s own (mostly financial and logistical) annoyances, but I’m doing my best to stay positive. I’ve decided not to sign up for the next race that Lola and I were planning on doing, since it’s this weekend and I know I’m not ready for it. I’m trying not to be too discouraged and frustrated by this, but it’s hard.<br /><br />All I can do, it seems, is be patient. I have not been very good at that, to be honest. I guess I’m not good at being patient in general— I want control, I want to make things happen. I don’t want to have to sit back and wait, or stand in the physical therapist’s office 2-3 times per week for 30 minutes, making miniscule muscle movements that feel like nothing yet cause my knee to ache and cost $45 a session.<br /><br />I miss running. On a bad day, just seeing someone running can overwhelm me. I’ll neither confirm nor deny that there was a day, a gorgeous blue-skyed day, when seeing too many runners in too short a time period made me start to cry quietly, a few tears almost hidden by oversized sunglasses. I miss running. I miss the feeling of a really good workout, of clearing my mind of everything. I miss races. I miss trying to be better. I miss the feeling of just running and being, nothing else. I miss writing, but what do I have to write about if I’m not running, not racing? But running, racing and writing... those are my things. My outlets. They are what I do when I want to do something for me. I miss my running self. However slow I was, however much I hated running at times, I ran freely and it made me happy.<br /><br />I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want to be negative. I don’t want to throw a pity party, and to be honest I hope you wouldn’t RSVP if I did.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-421250615453056642010-03-19T13:40:00.002-04:002010-03-19T13:42:57.993-04:00Buzz Buzz BlahIts hard to write a blog. Because when, on Wednesday, you write things like you’ll be “unstoppable in mind” and that you’ll “keep a positive attitude”, and then you spend the next two days after that being a totally cranky bee-otch, well, you might appear a little hypocritical.<br /><br />Truth is, Wednesday feels like a long time ago. I’m annoyed by this knee brace. I’m on day four of wearing it, and it’s getting less and less comfortable. It fits invisibly under only 1 pair of jeans, which I’ve now worn for 3 days in a row. I’m not in pain all the time, but every once in the while the pain shoots through my knee like a burst of electricity- when I’m walking, or I turn the wrong way, or when I first get out of bed in the morning. The nice weather makes me want to be outside: running, biking—anything! And yet I can’t be. I can’t run in tomorrow’s race; I’m not even supposed to walk it.<br /><br />It’s not the worst possible thing that could happen, and I know this. I’ve only been out of commission for less than a week. I know that wearing a knee brace is not that much of an inconvenience. I know that whatever is actually wrong with my knee is probably not a huge deal, and that I can handle a few weeks of restricted activity; at least it’s probably going to be weeks, not months. I also know that letting negativity buzz around in my brain has never gotten me anywhere I want to be.<br /><br />But right now, on this day, in this moment, I’m totally bummed and I can’t seem to shake it.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-40687257906236928602010-03-17T13:39:00.003-04:002010-03-17T14:13:21.430-04:00Bumblee Bee...Sidelined.“The worst that could happen will almost certainly not happen. And even if it does, you’ll find a way to handle it.”<br /><br />This is part of my mantra, the Ralph Marston quote that has propelled me through so many days. I’m holding strong to these two sentences in particular, now more than ever.<br /><br />The words popped in my head after I got a text from James on Monday morning that said "Promise me that no matter what the doctor says, you'll stay calm--we'll get through whatever it is." I haven't let any of these words leave my mind since.<br /><br />As I mentioned last week, Sunday was my first 5K of the season. Yay! I was excited to get back into running. I was excited to celebrate the one-year anniversary of our first 5K. Lola, James, and James’ brother and girlfriend were all running. It was a St. Patrick’s Day race, and we were all in the spirit with green shirts, green hair, green socks. The day was fighting against our positive attitudes with its gray skies, windy gusts and drizzly rain, a stark contrast to last year’s race, when it was warm, sunny and bright. As we were lined up, waiting for the race to start, the wind started blowing even harder. Lola turned to me and said, “I guess this might be a warning, that everything is going to be harder this year.” Her prediction turned out to be right; it foreshadowed what would come next.<br /><br />I was maybe a 1/4 mile into the race when my knee started to hurt. I had experienced some knee pain in the last race I ran, back in November. But that was a longer race, I thought that the extra miles were what strained my knee, and I’ve been taking it easy since then. I was concerned about longer distances, but it never crossed my mind to be concerned about a 5K. I may not be fast, and I’ll probably never think they’re exactly “easy”, but I’ve run enough now to be comfortable with a 5K. I still get a little amped up before a race, but I’m no longer nervous because I know what I’m in for. There’s comfort in the familiar— knowing how my body will feel, knowing how to regulate my breathing, running to the beat of the music that has propelled me along so many miles.<br /><br />This knee pain was familiar too. It was the same pain I felt at the <span style="font-style: italic;">end</span> of the last race I’d run. Except I was at the <span style="font-style: italic;">beginning</span> of this one. I had miles to go.<br /><br />I slowed down considerably. James had passed me within the first few steps of the race, and now I watched Lola fade into the distance, too. I was stunned that this had happened. Still, I thought it could be simple-- mind over matter. But by the time I turned the second corner of the race, I was barely running. And now, compensating for my injured knee was causing the pain to shoot down to my ankle and up to my butt. Even so, I was determined to keep running. I thought if I stopped I wouldn’t be able to start again. I passed the first mile mark, still running. It was getting increasingly painful, and eventually I had to stop, walking when the pain got to be too much, running when the pain had eased enough.<br /><br />I always feel like a race is a competition against myself, not anyone else. For me, it’s always mind versus body. When I’m running, I have to ignore my mind when it says “I’m tired. Why are you doing this to me? I want to rest.” I need to ask my body if it’s tired, if it needs to rest. Most of the time, the answer is no. This time there was a different battle raging in my head. My body was saying “Stop”. My mind was saying “Keep going”. Every time negative thoughts started to overwhelm me, I would think to myself: “If it doesn’t hurt enough to cry then you can keep on going. And you aren’t going to cry because you are not a baby.” Repeating this to myself kept me putting one foot in front of the other, even as the distance I could run without stopping became shorter and shorter. I repeated it as the firefighters on the rescue cart passed me by. Twice. In my mind, getting on that cart was never an option, neither was not finishing the race. I would have kept on going if I was the last person, if I had to walk across the finish line dragging my bum leg behind me. I wasn’t giving myself an out. I didn’t want an out. I just wanted to finish the race.<br /><br />And I did. It took nearly 42 minutes. So much for beating last year’s time (although last year’s time was 39 minutes, so apparently an injury doesn't make me that much slower than I was last year!). Once I crossed the finish line I was struggling to keep the tears from flowing. I spotted James and Lola and I’m pretty sure some tears escaped at that point. Not from pain, but because I was so disappointed and frustrated. And now that the race was finally over, for just a few minutes I allowed myself to be worried.<br /><br />I saw my regular doctor on Monday and he’s sending me to an orthopedic doctor. I couldn’t get an appointment for two weeks, so for now I’m armed with a bottle of anti-inflammatory pills, a knee brace and a positive attitude. While I won’t know for sure until I see the orthopedic doctor, my regular doctor said I would be lucky if in 4-6 weeks I could run again (I’m determined to be lucky). He thinks I’ll probably need a little bit of physical therapy. Then, if that doesn’t work, he said it would probably mean an MRI and possibly surgery. But that’s worst case scenario, one that I’m not even thinking about at this point— this is where the Ralph Marston quote comes in. The worst that could happen will almost certainly not happen. And even if it does, I’ll find a way to handle it.<br /><br />I can’t lie, there are moments when the disappointment rises up in me like a wave—sudden, strong, knocking my positivity off balance. It’s not fading as the days go by. I’m not sure how I’ll feel about standing on the sidelines at this weekend’s race, but I know I won’t like it. I already know that the thought of not being able to run for weeks-- just as the weather is getting nicer, the sun is shining more and the days are getting longer-- feels like a cruel punishment. Which is funny, because with my love/hate relationship with running, sometimes running itself feels like punishment, and yet not being able to run feels so much worse.<br /><br />Still, I consider myself resilient. If I can’t be unstoppable in body, I can be unstoppable in mind. I’ll keep my knee brace on all day. I’ll take glucosamine & chondroitin in the hopes that it will help my healing. I’ll follow the acronym so many runners already know: RICE (rest, ice, compression & elevation). I’ll take my anti-inflammatories twice a day, as directed. I’ll flavor my dinners with garlic, ginger and red pepper, all thought to decrease inflammation. I'll take my place on the sidelines instead of in the crowd of runners ready to race (for now). And I’ll cross my fingers, keep a positive attitude, and hope that this is just a minor bump in the road, as overcomeable as any challenge I’ve faced before.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-776089689218444012010-03-08T15:34:00.001-05:002010-03-08T15:36:34.331-05:00'Tis the seasonThis Sunday marks the first 5K of the “season”. I’m sure many runners would say there’s not really a running season, but as far was winter running goes, personally I’m far too clumsy to run in the snow. Also its freaking cold out and I really hate the cold. And I go into semi-hibernation in the winter. But now, as the temperature rises, so do my hopes that spring is finally here. The sun was peeking through the blinds this Saturday morning when I woke up, and in between the slats I could also see slices of blue sky and clouds— the good kind of clouds, puffy white ones, the kind that always look like something else, that mesmerize you with their infinite possibilities.<br /><br />Not only is this Sunday’s 5K the first of the year, it’s also a special one in my mind because it is the first race Lola and I ran a year ago. It is our 5K anniversary, if you will. Tradition says the gift for a one-year anniversary is paper so it’s appropriate that on Sunday we’ll be pinning on our paper race numbers, an anniversary gift to ourselves as we celebrate not only a year of struggle, success, achievement, perseverance and the happiness that has come with it, but also another wonderful running season ahead. <br /><br />Those race numbers might be just paper, but they represent so much more. I have them framed in my bedroom. Seeing them hanging on the wall is a demonstration of my determination, a reminder to myself of what I can achieve, and how far I’ve come. My eye always goes to the green and orange race bib, the first one I ever pinned on.<br /><br />It’s hard to believe that a year has gone by. A year ago, I was running this 5K based on Audrey’s suggestion, as a “practice” race in preparation for the triathlon. I was about halfway to my weight goal. Lola and I had recently started going to the gym together and somehow she agreed to do the 5K with me. I remember our pre-race dinner the night before, watching Run Fatboy Run and praying that neither of us would take a face plant like that poor guy did. I remember my concern over my finish line photo— that was totally warranted, as it turns out, since the tank top I wore that day turned out to be way too low cut to run in (in my official finish line photos I looked like I belonged in a Girls Gone Wild 5K). I remember my late-night safety pin run, I remember being so so SO nervous the morning of the race. I remember sitting on my parents kitchen floor later that day, after the race, in a semi-daze over the accomplishment.<br /><br />I don’t think either Lola or I would have dreamed that we’d become almost addicted, running a race every chance we could, leaving us with more free race t-shirts than we can fit in our drawers. I don’t think we would have guessed that through the following months we’d recruit her husband, my boyfriend, friends and family to run with us— heck, I bet we even convinced total strangers to run a race or two. I don’t think we could have guessed that, by the end of 2009, we’d have run in ten races and be planning a similar schedule for 2010.<br /><br />It’s amazing what happens in a year. Shifting slowly over time like those puffy white clouds, life changes until suddenly you see something completely different. The constant evolution can be scary, but look again, and let it look like something else— like fun, like opportunity, like another great journey ahead. Let yourself be mesmerized by the infinite possibilities.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-56161833518840035842010-03-01T20:32:00.002-05:002010-03-01T21:28:06.128-05:00Two Simple WordsWhen I was in the midst of all my training, when all I did was eat, sleep and breathe running, when my goal still lay out ahead of me and I was still reaching for it, I had a secret fear. And this fear was in my mind in the form of a question, two simple words:<br /><br />What's next?<br /><br />This fear went against everything I was trying to teach myself- don't worry too much, don't think so much about the future, and certainly don't worry and think too much at once. But still, I couldn't help it. This fear was real. I brushed it aside, I didn't dwell on it, but it rose to the top of my mind every now and again. I couldn't help it. What WAS next? My triathlon goal had a very concrete date- on July 26th I was going to be a triathlete (I didn't allow myself to question this. It was not a question. I was going to do it). But what would July 27th be like? <br /><br />I'm sure this fear is understandable. When you focus your life around one thing, and that thing is suddenly, seemingly over....what do you do? I didn't know the answer. I didn't think the triathlon defined me, but for the moment, I was defining myself by that goal. It was what I talked about when I saw people who I hadn't seen in a while. It was what I talked about with the people I saw all the time. It was the biggest thing in my life. It almost WAS me. What would I do without it? <br /><br />What's funny is, while I usually tell everyone in my life everything, I never admitted this fear out loud. I don't think I wanted to let it out in the world; if it was only in my head it wasn't as real. If it was only in my head I didn't have to answer the question.<br /><br />What's funny is, one day someone gently asked me this very question: "What's next?", two words that exposed all of my hidden fears and my answer: "I don't know", wasn't as scary as I'd thought.<br /><br />What's funny is, as we continued on in this conversation he asked me what my biggest hope would be. And I said, I couldn't help it but even after everything my secret daydream was that my Prince Charming would be waiting for me at the finish line.<br /><br />What's funny is, the person I was having this conversation with was James. I didn't know it at the time, but he was my prince. And he was indeed waiting for me at the finish line. <br /><br />What's funny is, this whole experience has made me realize that the question "What's next?" is nothing to be afraid of. It works out in ways you cannot imagine. But it works out. <br /><br />Something I've understood from the start was that nothing in life is predictable. You never know what's next. But what I've learned is, you've got to have faith, you've got to believe in better days ahead, in the life you can create and the life you can't, in the possibilities of the future.<br /><br />I am not naive enough to think this means nothing will ever go wrong, that everything will always be perfect. No. But I believe in the magic of the every day and I can find the beauty in the life around me.<br /><br />Even though there is too much stress lately and not enough hours in the day, even though there are angry clients and cranberry juice spills on beige carpet and a pile of laundry that threatens to overtake the bedroom that's only slightly larger than the pile of bills, I still look around and see so many great things happening. <br /><br />Babies are growing in the bellies of three of my girlfriends-- women who are fabulous, women who will make great mothers, who will make the world a better place by raising children who will be beautiful people in every sense of the word. There are smiles on the faces of people whose smiles had been gone for far too long. There's friends, and family, there are birthday parties and engagements. Love seems to be everywhere. There is music, and dancing. There are so many great moments that none of us could ever have known were next. <br /><br />And yes, throughout it all, there is running.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-5540612208596967812009-12-31T10:21:00.002-05:002009-12-31T10:30:57.301-05:00Welcome to my life, 2010Today we all stand at one of those interesting places in life, somewhere that is at once both the end and the beginning. While you might be able to mark a few events in the course of your life as simultaneously an ending and a beginning, it's usually only in retrospect that you recognize it. Today is rare because we all know it as it's happening.<br /><br />While not one who usually believes in looking backward, only forward, the thought that came into my head early this morning was that I wasn't sure if I was ready for 2009 to end. This has been a great year. If you'll excuse me for saying so, it has been MY year. No matter what happens in the future, I know I'll always look at 2009 as an amazing 365 days. It has been a year filled with more emotion, more smiles, more laughter, struggle, triumph, determination, support, appreciation, sweat, accomplishment and love than any of the 25 years I've lived before it. Whether it was hard or easy, I've enjoyed every single day of this year (which would be more accurately defined as a journey), and even more so from this vantage point, looking back at it all. I started somewhere so much different than where I ended up. This year has given me so much. I’m not sure I really want to leave the year of Me behind.<br /><br />Yet what I realized after thinking about this for a few minutes took my worries away. 2009 didn't <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">give</span> me anything. I <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">took</span> from 2009. Everything will come with me into 2010. And, like 2009, 2010 has no innate gifts to offer. It will have good moments and bad moments, too. It's up to me to take from the next 365 days everything that I want; to achieve goals, to laugh harder, smile easier, worry less, love more, run faster, be stronger. Standing at the end of a year in which I reached out and grabbed every fabulous moment I could....well, that's actually a great feeling. Will 2010 be better? I don't know, but I know that it could be, and I know that how wonderful it will be rests largely on my shoulders. And if it's up to me, then it's going to be. Plus I'll be ringing in the new year in a pair of insanely fabulous silver sequined heels, hand in hand with a guy that outshines the sparkliest of shoes, so I know I'll be off to a good start.<br /><br />As ‘09 draws to a close, I’m reminded of the wise words of my dad when I told him about my blog & the tri nearly a year ago: <span style="font-style: italic;">“You can do it if you put your mind and body to it, which you are and will. It won't be easy, but what things are in life that test a person?” </span>I know that I am capable of anything and ready to welcome what the next year has to offer.<br /><br />I’m reminded of the infinite wisdom of Miley Cyrus, whose words always ring true:<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“There’s always gonna be another mountain/I’m always gonna wanna make it move/Always gonna be an uphill battle/Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose/Ain’t about how fast I get there/Ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side/ It’s the climb.”</span> I know that I am ready to enjoy every great moment that will come to be in the year ahead.<br /><br />I’m reminded of a Hallmark card that I love-- I don't think I could say it any better or simpler than this, or I would try: <span style="font-style: italic;">"This is the beginning of another 365 day journey around the sun. Enjoy the ride."</span> I know that I am looking forward to the adventure.<br /><br />So goodbye, 2009. I'll never forget you.<br />Bring it on, 2010. I am so, so, so ready for you.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-89642748298642822142009-11-20T13:26:00.002-05:002009-11-20T13:30:12.890-05:00SevenIt's probably fitting that my first 5k since the triathlon was on a cold, windy, rainy Sunday morning in October, the kind where, if it was possible, you'd wake up, look outside, and go back to bed. I think it's fitting because it really takes determination and commitment to want to run in such weather (and to watch others run in that weather- thanks Mom, Dad & James!). And determination and commitment to running is something that's fallen a little by the wayside for me in the past few months.<br /><br />I'll level with you. I've gained 7 pounds since the triathlon. Seven. Two or three I would be ok with. Seven I'm not. But guess what? I totally deserve the seven pounds. My gym visits have been sporadic, my eating habits have gotten worse. If I gain any more weight I'll be disappointing myself. The great thing is, I feel like I learned enough in the past ten months or so to know exactly how to get back on track. And getting back on track means, in part, running a 5k.<br /><br />Besides that, this 5k was a significant one because it was the first one my brother and I were running together. I talked a LOT of smack all summer long about how I would leave him in the dust come race day. Even as I was saying it, I kinda knew it was baloney- my brother being a natural athlete, he has things going for him that I never will. But the smack-talking continued nonetheless. And then it dropped off somewhere around September. I'm not normally one to run my mouth, and I think I just ran out of steam. That, and I realized it was all fluff anyway. My brother said that I would probably beat him, or we could at least run together during the 5k, which was also baloney, whether he knew it or not.<br /><br />'Cause let me tell you, once the horn blew and the race started, I saw my brother for about 45 seconds before he disappeared into the crowd of runners ahead. Way ahead. Waaaaaaaaay ahead. I didn’t see him again til the finish line. Not only that, but I was in this weird place within the pack where there weren’t many people I could see right ahead of me, and I could see no one behind me. Nervousness started weighing me down more than my rain-soaked clothing was. Was I last? This has always been my fear, and in this race, it was more possible than ever— the horrible weather weeded out the novice and spur-of-the-moment runners (and probably the sane ones, too) so the number of people in the race was small. And, I figured these were dedicated, good, solid runners who were RUNNERS. I still have moments where I feel like I pretend to be a runner by running, and that’s what fools people. But an ACTUAL runner? Still go back and forth on that one.<br /><br />Thankfully, I was not last. By the time I got to the finish line (at 37:30, a time that’s painful for me to admit. But on the bright side, I ran the whole thing besides a quick walk at the water station, so yay for me!) my brother had already been there for seven whole minutes. He could have been in his car, headed home to take a shower, put on dry clothes, and try to forgive me for what I had just put him through. But, of course, he joined the cheering squad at the finish line that was quite enthusiastically (given the cold, rainy conditions they had just spent 37 and a half minutes standing in) waiting for me to cross the finish line.<br /><br />The next day, I felt like it did after my first 5K- meaning every movement I made caused my body to ache. That’s what I get for taking so much time off. And I’m sure I’m going to be feeling it again a week from today. I’ll be running a 4.748 mile race on Thanksgiving morning with my mom, brother, Lola, James and some friends. Oh, and about 10,000 other people. It’s going to be the longest, biggest race I’ve ever done. Despite my seven pounds, you better believe I will not feel bad later that afternoon when I have an extra helping of stuffing and a super long nap on the couch.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-15513712825486780022009-09-28T16:32:00.004-04:002009-09-28T21:08:25.471-04:00The bee is back!<span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">I guess I couldn't stay away for too long. Writing, like running, is a cleansing thing for me. And maybe you're wondering....what happened next? And I hope I don't disappoint.<br /><br />But truth is, what happened next is an unwinding. Relaxation. Rest. Recovery. I needed it. To focus so intently on a goal for so long, to be physically and mentally moving so constantly, to remove all distractions and never waver...it's exhausting. It was a phenomenal feeling of accomplishment to cross the finish line. And then I needed to not be doing it anymore. Just for a little while.<br /><br />When I crossed that finish line I was a different person than the day I signed up for the race. Achieving everything you've set out to achieve is as awe-inspiring as it is humbling. Somehow, by the time I crossed that line, everything else in my life had fallen into place. Some things had changed drastically, others hadn't changed at all. But my outlook on everything had changed- so therefore, everything was different. Everything was better.<br /><br />And, perhaps one of the most mystifying things of all- in the midst of all of this, in the midst of not trying, of not thinking about dating, of not wanting to date, of being happy being just me- I met the greatest guy. By the time I crossed that finish line I was falling in love. And that was the one thing I didn't really dream would actually happen. But somehow, by making other things happen- things for <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span> happen- that happened, too.<br /><br />I know that it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten myself to a good place. My mom once told me that I had to focus on myself, on what I wanted, what made me happy, before I could ever hope to find a good relationship. Honestly, at the time, I thought she was missing the point- she had no idea what it felt like to be me, 26 and single for years, when she, at 26, was married and pregnant with me. Oh boy, I should have known better. As I think I've said before, my mom is smart and pretty much always right. Despite knowing that, I brushed off her comments at the time. But I never forgot the conversation we had, and I've since realized that she was right.<br /><br />There are some things in life, like completing a triathlon, that you can work towards, and, through lots of hard work and effort, achieve. There are other things, like love, that you just can’t. You just have to get yourself to a place where you’ll be ready for it, should it come into your life. Without knowing it, I wasn’t ready before. And then, also without knowing it, I was. And love walked in.<br /><br />Believe me, I’m well aware of how cliched and storybook-ending that sounds. And I don't care, because it's what happened. Cliches are cliches for a reason- because they're true more often than not, and there is no such thing as a storybook-ending and I'm well aware of that. (</span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">Ok, that's not quite true- I'll always hold out for the storybook ending. My version of the storybook, that is).</span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;"> The point is...well, there’s lots of points, aren’t there? But ultimately, it's just like I said in the beginning- it's all in how you look at things. It's that complicated, and it's that simple. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">It's still pretty emotional for me when I think about the past nine or so months- how far I've come, how hard I've worked, how happiness came once I stopped trying so hard to have it. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><br />Somewhere in this period of recovery came another realization. While I needed to slow down, I really don't want to lose my momentum, I don't want to stop here. I decided I want to do the triathlon again next year- and I still don't really know if I can pinpoint why. I just do. And so I will. Isn't that how it's always worked? I know that, moving forward, I want and need more of a balance between this and everything else. Before, it consumed me, and that was a good thing. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">Now, making sure it doesn't consume me will also be a good thing. </span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">By focusing on that one thing for a while, I emerged with a well-rounded life, a new appreciation for every piece of it, and a fresh outlook on what's to come. And I'm going to run with that.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;"><br /></span>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-75065819004917289132009-08-03T17:51:00.005-04:002009-08-04T19:36:29.884-04:00Part 4: The finish lineAnd you know, that really is what I like the best about running. There's nothing else involved. You can just run. I still have a love/hate relationship with it, but how does the saying go? Better the devil you know than the one you don't? I'm most comfortable with running so it was a huge relief to reach that leg of the tri.<br /><br />Even more encouraging was the fact that the run was 2.9 miles, not 3.1. That's a small difference that makes a big difference, at least in my mind. Usually at some point during a 5K my mind is fixated on the deep desire to not be running anymore. But that never happened the day of the triathlon. I honestly think I was so happy to be in the moment I was in, that I didn't want to rush it. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want it to last forever or anything. But I wanted to appreciate every step for what it was.<br /><br />As I rounded the second-to-last corner, I started to get a little teary-eyed. It was the first moment I allowed myself to get overwhelmed, and I quickly stopped. I knew I couldn't get emotional yet, I wasn't done, and until I crossed the<span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1249336292_0"> finish line</span> I wouldn't allow myself to get distracted.<br /><br />It was only a minute or so later until I was crossing the finish line but the tears that had started to well up in my eyes were long gone. Crossing the finish line. I don't know how to describe that feeling. Relief that it was over, that I did it. Pride in the fact that I was able to accomplish something that was so outside of my normal self. Happiness as I met up with the family and friends who had come to cheer me along, waving bumblebees and signs and cheering for me the whole way.<br /><br />And I was also very humbled...to be surrounded by so many women whose goals were probably quite similar to mine, and to be surrounded by the people who have been so supportive and encouraging of me these past few months, who would get up early and stand around all morning just to see me for a few seconds here and there in order to see me cross the finish line.<br /><br />It was also somehow humbling to realize I had done exactly what I set out to do. In the beginning I said: "For whatever reason and accumulation of circumstances, I want to complete a triathlon. So I will. I will use my energy to focus, concentrate, work hard, step outside the box. Actually, I will swim, bike and run outside the box. Why not?" And I did. And standing on the other side of that finish line, I knew there really isn't anything I can't do.<br /><br />Now here's the other thing I've truly learned that I hope I never forget. Life is crazy. It doesn't happen how you expect it to. It doesn't happen when you expect it to. But if you hang on for the ride, follow your heart and keep your head up no matter how rocky your path gets, the good things in life will prevail. There will be something to catch you before you fall. When you least expect it, something so good can happen.<br /><br />When I set this goal for myself, it was a big deal to me. I said "I decided to change everything", and I completely meant that. But never did I imagine how big it would get. Never did I imagine that when the goal was achieved, I would be so at peace with myself, with my life. That I would have everything, and want nothing. That I would be so entirely transformed, mentally and physically.<br /><br />I never imagined that I could ask myself "What's next?" and realize that I'm okay with the fact that I don't really know for sure. But I'm incredibly excited to find out.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmL9tHUZ8uz2swYSXI6d76tjwT07IDh8JMj0IfM4i97YQcRnWKEhsldI4uTygkvkRxgaUgJve2_EWcLborRgj72h9N85CWUnTYBlXzQJHMQkGny7gJWuFURAoPxQEzKPtXqkGzAzX0mqk/s1600-h/6050_1127633384631_1041077933_30367935_762141_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmL9tHUZ8uz2swYSXI6d76tjwT07IDh8JMj0IfM4i97YQcRnWKEhsldI4uTygkvkRxgaUgJve2_EWcLborRgj72h9N85CWUnTYBlXzQJHMQkGny7gJWuFURAoPxQEzKPtXqkGzAzX0mqk/s320/6050_1127633384631_1041077933_30367935_762141_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366256157147470482" border="0" /></a>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-58335304674009162322009-08-03T09:17:00.000-04:002009-08-03T09:18:11.227-04:00Part 3: Liking BikingSo, I was still pretty psyched by the time I reached my bike (which I was able to find thanks to the giant bumble bee balloon tied to my place on the bike rack, that my mom bought for the occasion). I mean, at least with the bike if something goes wrong you can stop and figure it out. Swimming doesn't quite allow you that advantage. But to be honest, even before I reached my bike any negative feelings about the swim were gone. I had already mentally moved on to the next thing, which was getting to the transition area. Drying my feet, putting my socks on, putting my shoes on, putting my helmet on, grabbing my bike, and going. But I was calm. I took my time. I can't quite explain the cool, composed focus I had going on. I wasn't worried about time, I wasn't concerned with anything other than doing the next thing I needed to do. My mind was completely clear of anything extraneous, I was completely in the moment.<br /><br />So many people had told me, don't forget to acknowledge the moment when you're in it. Don't forget to look around, take it in, really feel it as it's happening. And I am so thankful I was able to do that. I enjoyed the scenery during the bike ride, the people on their front lawns cheering everyone on, the homemade signs dotting the race course. I got off my bike and walked up most of the two painfully steep hills when I found I couldn't quite make it up. Ordinarily I would scold myself for doing such a thing. But this time I didn't care. I was just in a zone....happy for the women who were speeding by me and glad to see there were women like me, huffing and puffing and barely moving up the hill until they got off and walked the rest of the way. I put zero pressure on myself. It was fine either way. That's not to say I wasn't trying or putting in an effort. Of course I was. But it was a relaxed, sane, happy effort.<br /><br />Before long, I rounded a corner and a volunteer called out that we had 5 miles left. Ok, I thought to myself, that means I've done 7 miles already. So I'm more than halfway through. And I feel great. So this will be a breeze....And I just continued to enjoy it.<br /><br />And then it was over. Before I knew it, I was hopping off my bike and heading back into the transition area to drop my bike, grab an energy gel and pick up my race belt, thinking: This is the part I know. This is the part I have already overcome. This is the best part- just me, running.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-1769987488220352282009-07-30T19:26:00.003-04:002009-07-31T08:50:39.670-04:00Part 2: Swim LessonsAnd then suddenly I wasn't standing on the edge anymore. I was swimming.<br /><br />And just as suddenly, I inhaled a huge mouthful of lake water and any ease I felt about my strength as a swimmer disappeared. I was choking. And trying to swim. With 30 other people. And they were all around me. And I was still choking. And I was tired. More than a little freaked out. And only 15 seconds into the 1/2 mile swim. Oh God.<br /><br />I flipped over onto my back to get my face out of the water. I couldn't stop coughing on the water I had swallowed. Why hadn't I practiced swimming more? Twice?! In a calm, clear, seaweed-free pool?! Was I kidding myself thinking that was enough? I was suddenly so shaken and could feel exhaustion creep into my body. I looked up, saw that the first buoy I had to swim to was still incredibly far away, and realized that I needed to get. it. together. Or I would never make it. So I calmed myself down and just focused on doing what needed to be done. Which was mainly: a) staying afloat and b) moving closer to the finish.<br /><br />It was ridiculously tiring. I felt like part of the time I was swimming, but mostly I was surviving. I think I invented some pretty nifty swim strokes in my effort to simply make it through. That was the longest half mile of my life. When I was finally done, I was so happy to be out of the water that despite how tired I was, I ripped off my swim cap and goggles and ran up the beach with renewed energy, waving enthusiastically to my mom when I spotted her on the sidelines. I was just so happy to be alive and on dry land, and to have the hardest part of the tri behind me that I felt like doing cartwheels. After the swim, the bike seemed like it would be an absolute breeze.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-69832494224746207942009-07-30T19:04:00.005-04:002009-07-30T19:26:34.707-04:00Part 1: I did it!I did it! The triathlon is over. I kicked its ass.<br /><br />Friday and Saturday I was buzzing with nervous energy. I was so anxious, not nervous, but anxious, that I couldn't figure out what to do with myself. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that the tri was Sunday....it seemed so surreal. I had been preparing for so long for that day that I almost forgot the day would actually come. But suddenly, there it was. And I could barely breathe.<br /><br />But once Audrey picked me up on Saturday to head to orientation and registration, the calm that I had been hoping for started to settle over me. I knew I had prepared for this, mentally and physically, every day since I made the decision to do it. I knew I was ready, not just by the fact that I now owned a triathlon suit, bike helmet and race number belt, but by the fact that I had not a shadow of a doubt that I would accomplish exactly what I set out to do.<br /><br />This calmness carried throughout Saturday into Sunday. It was exactly what I was hoping I would feel. I slept well the night before, I woke up without butterflies in my stomach. I was amped up, thats for sure, but in a very determined, even-keeled way. I wasn't nervous at all. I was just ready to go. Bring it on, triathlon!<br /><br />We left the hotel and headed to the race site to set up our transition areas. The number of bikes lining the rows was pretty incredible. There were so many people, and we had so much time to kill before our swim waves started. Normally these would be anxiety-inducing factors. Yet somehow I still wasn't nervous. Just ready.<br /><br />At 8:15, I entered the (freezing cold!) water with my swim wave. 30 or so girls in yellow swim caps, all about my age, all about to do what I was about to do. I can't tell you what their journeys were to get to that moment. I only know mine. And I made myself think of it as I stood there waiting for the horn to blow. This is it, I thought. Here it is. You are standing on the edge of your moment.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8skEUMkJA0sAA6BjrEKaGhDX5QqH_yvx8S60rZ3BVX0utFee68X6xvHRWPheYm0is0lj93q0EytFKq0EiGYVWWLp0u34tEDit6iUu_6t1GeXpPioh0Sn9UDciNGvOoq7HOWEg6Ux87SI/s1600-h/6050_1127632904619_1041077933_30367923_5272084_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8skEUMkJA0sAA6BjrEKaGhDX5QqH_yvx8S60rZ3BVX0utFee68X6xvHRWPheYm0is0lj93q0EytFKq0EiGYVWWLp0u34tEDit6iUu_6t1GeXpPioh0Sn9UDciNGvOoq7HOWEg6Ux87SI/s320/6050_1127632904619_1041077933_30367923_5272084_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364398458509462434" border="0" /></a>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-58799323883815492752009-07-24T18:28:00.002-04:002009-07-24T18:39:01.800-04:002 DaysI've been trying to write a post. I really have. And I really want to. I just don't know what to say.<br /><br />This has been such a long journey with so many great moments, so many accomplishments and so much change. So much of it unexpected. So much of it beyond what I imagined. And the goal, the culmination of all my hard work, dedication and unwavering focus, is two days away. It's an overwhelming feeling. It's exciting. And I'm a big ball of nervous energy right now.<br /><br />I know two things in this moment.<br /><br />One. I did everything I set out to do and so, so much more. I couldn't be more amazed at how different every single thing in my life is. <br /><br />And two. On Sunday I will become a triathlete.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-15738223332178475402009-07-08T21:13:00.005-04:002009-07-10T16:53:01.070-04:00Thank you.<span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;font-size:85%;">It's impossible to get through life without the help of those around you. Not necessarily because you couldn't, but because you just don't. Help comes, sometimes unspoken, in hundreds of large and small ways, all the time.<br /><br />Maybe it's only me that takes each step when I go for a run- no one is physically helping me move my legs. Maybe my motivation comes from something inside me- no one tells me what to do. Maybe this whole thing is about me- my idea, my plan, my goal. After all, didn’t I say that the whole reason I chose this goal was that it had nothing to do with anyone else, only me?<br /><br />But that does not mean that no one is helping me. Each and every step I've taken-- both literally and figuratively-- has been backed by the support of so many wonderful people. Could I have done it without them? Yes. But did they help me do it? Absolutely. I could have done it without them, but it wouldn’t have been the same. Sometimes getting help seems like a bad thing- like you can’t do something on your own. But that’s not true. When people want to help you and support you not because you asked for it, or even because you need it...it’s a wonderful thing.<br /><br />So. I moved my own feet. And here’s to some of the people who made that possible.<br /><br />Amelia. I have no idea how I have not mentioned you here before, because without you no one would not be reading these words. You're the one who put the blog bug in my head, and I am so thankful. Besides that, you've been one of my most positive supporters, and have listened to my crazy thoughts more times than I can count. Thank you so, so much.<br /><br />Audrey, your seemingly crazy idea to do a 5K before the tri has changed my life tremendously. Thanks for patiently re-teaching me how to swim and for always having the sweetest most encouraging things to say. Thank you. Because of you, I will not drown.<br /><br />Callie and Wayne, I don’t care if you hate your blog names. I love you. Thank you for running with me. And thank you for always being truly happy for me, and for believing in me and in every aspect of my future.<br /><br />Lola. I cannot imagine what the past few months would have been like without you. I would have definitely puked before the first 5K (and it might have been my last), maybe even cut out of the gym early some days and would not have given myself over to the idea of dating as easily. And I would have had a lot less fun. I don't know how else to say how happy I am that you came on this journey with me....thanks for being the yin to my yang.<br /><br />James....it's still beyond words. Thanks for reading this, understanding me, and then doing something amazing. You made me realize that it is possible to do something for yourself that can truly reach other people. And speaking of beyond words-- thank you for the bubble.<br /><br />Piz, you believe in my words with such a conviction that I can really see myself on Oprah someday. I promise I'll figure out a way to get you on camera too :) Thanks for training with me, for coming to see me run, and oh yeah, for being the best brother in the whole wide world.<br /><br />Mom & Dad, thank you for... everything. For being there. For believing in me. For laughing when I told you I was going to do a triathlon, because it reminds me how far I’ve come.<br /><br />I just had to say all these thank you's now, because I'm hopping on a plane to Mexico in the morning and I know that once I get back they days will fly by and it will suddenly be the day of the triathlon. I wanted to say these thank you's before then so that when I cross the finish line each of you will know the role you played in getting me there and the gratitude I have for it. Because let's face it, I'll probably be so exhausted I won't be able to breathe or form a coherent thought to thank you then.<br /><br />I can't wait! 16 days!<br /><br /></span>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-9615638404092711312009-07-01T22:39:00.002-04:002009-07-01T22:43:16.309-04:00Yesterday was a really hot day and the sun was blazing, so naturally that was the day I had to leave work to take a trip to a <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1246502410_0">local historical society</span> to get some images for a project we're working on. Whatever idea you have in your head of a historical society, I bet you're right. It was just like that. Hot, lots of stuff, old smells, and no <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1246502410_1">fresh air</span> to breathe. I didn't even have a chance to recover because when I got back to work I found out this was also the day that the <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1246502410_2">air conditioner</span> decided to break. I spent the last two hours of work trying to cool myself down. It was not just that it was hot. It was that it was stuffy. It was stifling. By the time I walked out at 5pm, I felt like I could barely breathe.<br /><br />I got into my car (which was even hotter and more suffocating) and the feeling didn't go away. Even after the air conditioning kicked in. Even after I drank a bunch of water. Even once I was halfway home. The feeling seemed disproportionate to the actual temperature displayed on my dashboard. It was making me nervous. Panicky. And then I realized-- this is what I used to feel like every day.<br /><br />I had to give that thought a moment. Wow. I used to feel this way all the time. In the winter, having nothing to do with the heat. On a normal day, when nothing in particular was wrong. My mind's own constant revolution would cause the elephant to creep up and sit on my chest. Or it just never left. I could never breathe.<br /><br />I don't know how I got that way.<br /><br />I don't know how I got this way.<br /><br />But thank God.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-54783473886883780522009-06-28T09:48:00.007-04:002009-06-28T10:44:14.696-04:00Lucky Charms & Mr. MiyagiSince I started off this week feeling like the energy had been completely drained from my body, I figured it might be a good thing to give myself a week to take it easy with the exercising and counting points, and have some relaxed, no worries kind of fun.<br /><br />I am proud to say I was tremendously successful in this endeavor. While I still worked out 4 days this week, it was also a week full of Lucky Charms, an ice cream cone, Coronas and late-night karaoke. So, it's true that I may not have figured out the balance thing by tipping the scales too far the other way (no pun intended by the way, but that's obviously a subconscious confession to the fact that I am not looking forward to stepping on the scale on Tuesday). But that's okay with me because I had a blast while I was doing it. Might as well get a little break in now, because the next month (28 days to be precise) is surely to be one in which I push myself the hardest. Might as well go into it with a re-energized state of mind.<br /><br />Given that we were both not up for another killer bike ride like the one we took last week (which honestly left me exhausted for 3 days), my brother and I decided to take a quick bike ride and run. I already knew that my energy level was low so there was no real goals for this time, just to ride. Except, my brother did remind me again that I need to stop braking down hills, because I need to take advantage of the speed. Yes, I brake when I go down hills. I get scared! I don't really know why I'm such a wimp. But yesterday I did manage to not break down one big hill, so despite having low energy levels we did manage to accomplish something!<br /><br />In a moment that will remind us all of how clutzy and athletically-impaired I can be, when biking up a hill earlier, the capri pants I was wearing got caught in my bike and ripped.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe73Ww08lUeFYrWTU6P3YffovQvnbOnykrdKkvLHfrrzUXh66iQJsGNJI-OBm24MdPSJ3RF6HqXUgmR0sr5QkRQlpwRj2VIzUVBxRh1DhaiDgyYa4APH3MueWf0WvduIfZAov2Le05u48/s1600-h/100_4103.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe73Ww08lUeFYrWTU6P3YffovQvnbOnykrdKkvLHfrrzUXh66iQJsGNJI-OBm24MdPSJ3RF6HqXUgmR0sr5QkRQlpwRj2VIzUVBxRh1DhaiDgyYa4APH3MueWf0WvduIfZAov2Le05u48/s320/100_4103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352379497510013698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Thank goodness that I managed to get out of my toe cages and off my bike, because I could have just as easily tipped right over. That would not have been any fun at all. I tore off the piece of my pants that was hanging in shreds so it wouldn't get caught again, and being the resourceful guy he is, my brother fashioned it into a totally awesome sweatband a la the Karate Kid. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3del1ZQUlDiGRYqCMFUX82ZJUA3srKOdoVWn8AFu82hCGiGMvZN0Ko4aSTpTRd8BSPtEtHwxo3NSZrBTFDSD7PTwcZ6coNUkaYxmWAbb0TuDTlfdG9KzWXh5uvWwxKt_U2UOkyBkApA/s1600-h/100_4102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3del1ZQUlDiGRYqCMFUX82ZJUA3srKOdoVWn8AFu82hCGiGMvZN0Ko4aSTpTRd8BSPtEtHwxo3NSZrBTFDSD7PTwcZ6coNUkaYxmWAbb0TuDTlfdG9KzWXh5uvWwxKt_U2UOkyBkApA/s320/100_4102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352383492936449954" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZhLTBpPd-0GZQkWaCZCNWTJknqSrcAwSxpfXVpzgD75SvP82cyEb3DOqxLWbpS_yzsY57Bb2D_3VjrcXfBlHjYw8x0_HwXBbzEiFy8Pg50AdB3-3ejdwWiz2waqPdaEmr9yGytJJbA8/s1600-h/karate_kid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZhLTBpPd-0GZQkWaCZCNWTJknqSrcAwSxpfXVpzgD75SvP82cyEb3DOqxLWbpS_yzsY57Bb2D_3VjrcXfBlHjYw8x0_HwXBbzEiFy8Pg50AdB3-3ejdwWiz2waqPdaEmr9yGytJJbA8/s320/karate_kid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352383676078525026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />You see the resemblance, right?<br /><br />Except he's more like Mr. Miyagi, because he's my teacher, reminding me what I need to learn, teaching me how and challenging me even without meaning to, in my effort to keep up with him. And as it turns out, the real Mr. Miyagi also has some lessons I could use:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><b style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;"><a target="_popup2921" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001552/">Miyagi</a></b><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;">: What matter? </span><br /><b style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;"><a target="_popup2921" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001494/">Daniel</a></b><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;">: I'm just scared. The tournament and everything. </span><br /><b style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;"><a target="_popup2921" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001552/">Miyagi</a></b><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;">: You remember lesson about balance? </span><br /><b style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;"><a target="_popup2921" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001494/">Daniel</a></b><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;">: Yeah. </span><br /><b style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;"><a target="_popup2921" href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001552/">Miyagi</a></b><span style="font-family: courier new; font-style: italic;">: Lesson not just karate only. Lesson for whole life. Whole life have a balance. Everything be better. Understand? </span></span>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-53395262298834251162009-06-22T19:31:00.003-04:002009-06-22T19:46:26.542-04:00Testing the waters<span style="font-family:Verdana, Helvetica, Arial;"><span style="font-size: 9pt;">I don't know what is wrong with me, but for the past week or so I've lacked the energy and motivation that has been pretty much consistent over the past few months. Don't get me wrong-- despite this, I've still been going to the gym, running, biking, doing everything I usually do (and putting in a solid effort), it's just that at some point while I'm doing it, I feel like I'm submitting myself to some kind of torture, and after I'm done I feel completely exhausted.<br /><br />I'd like to think that this is partially the weather's fault, because it's been super gloomy and rainy for what feels like 2 months but is probably more like 2 weeks— and I don’t do well without sunshine. What I don’t want to think is that I’m just tired. While in general I believe you should listen to your body when you feel like you need a rest, I find that I never practice this belief in my own life. The stubborn side of me comes out and I just tell myself to stop being such a baby, have a protein shake and deal with it. Don't I <span style="font-style: italic;">need</span> to push myself to the point of exhaustion? Doesn't my body need to know what that feels like? Doesn't exhaustion just mean that I'm working really hard, and isn't that a good thing?<br /><br />I know (because I’ve been told by Lola and Callie, who are often smarter about me than I am) that now that I’ve come this far, I need to concentrate more on finding balance and learning to allow myself to rest when I find that I haven’t allowed myself to do something fun/relaxing in a while and I need an extra coffee--with a shot of espresso-- to feel like a functional human being.<br /><br />I think by “balance”, Lola means that she wants me to retract my no-dating policy, which, at her insistence, I kind of did a couple of weeks ago (I refused to call it a date, and it was quickly dubbed a “friend outing”). While it didn’t exactly work out smashingly in the end, I learned a lot of important lessons that really surprised me. <br /><br />To be honest, if it wasn’t for Lola’s convincing, I wouldn’t have gone out with him. Besides the fact that I didn’t think he was my type (whatever my “type” is), I wasn’t sure I wanted to be dating again- even just one measly date. And I would have been passing up a really great date with a super nice guy without even realizing it. That’s lesson 1. Lesson 2: it’s not all or nothing. You can test the waters, dip your toes in rather than diving in headfirst. This might sound obvious, but I guess I felt like coming out of my dating coma meant that I was going to be totally thrown wide awake into the dating stratosphere. But that’s simply not true. A date can just be a date, if you let it be (or in this case, a friend outing). Lesson 3 is one I already knew but hadn’t been given in return for quite some time: honesty is key. I was really honest with him upfront about my hesitance towards dating due to my laser-like focus on myself. Not only was he okay with that, but he respected it and still wanted to go out with me. And I totally commend him for this because I think my situation is hard to explain to someone, at least without them thinking I was two steps away from crazy and might be walking a fine line now. And he was quite honest with me upfront about where he was in his life. It was so refreshing. Complete honesty right from the get go is rare in the dating realm, at least in my experience (and I do happen to have some of the most bizarre dating stories out there, so maybe my personal experience is just unlucky). But the transparency in this situation-- before we even went out-- made for a totally relaxed, completely enjoyable evening that overall started to renew my faith in the entire concept of dating.<br /><br />Overall, I realized I am much more optimistic about dating in general, and—here’s the key— a hundred times more okay with the fact that I'm single than I was six months ago. And--how bizarre is this?-- I have found myself suddenly thankful that I didn't get into a relationship back then. I needed to figure myself out first, not find someone to save me.<br /><br />And I realized that I don’t always have all the answers- even when it comes to myself. Sometimes I need to listen to the people around me. Sometimes I need to be more open. And sometimes I just need to take a chance. </span></span>BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-80895179130994100442009-06-21T18:34:00.002-04:002009-06-21T19:32:24.301-04:00Today's bike ride kicked. my. ass. I probably wouldn't even be typing right now, except I have a laptop and can therefore stretch out on my couch while writing--that's about all the physical exertion I can handle right about now.<br /><br />Let me rewind to yesterday. My brother and I went biking and I felt like I accomplished a lot.<br />With his help, I tackled some hills and learned how to switch gears appropriately. Might not sound like a big deal, but I'm really happy that we focused on this and that he was there to help me because I feel much more prepared. The bike ride I take in my town is great, but there are no hills, so it's a little wimpy as far as training goes.<br /><br />At my brother's insistence (and also because we couldn't find a wrench in the right size), I didn't take the toe cages off my bike and instead learned how to use them. I was a little scared of them and had never managed to get both my feet in at once; I was afraid I would tip over, which when you think about it is absolutely something that would happen to me. But I learned to use them! And I didn't tip over! Not only that, but by the end of today I was getting them both in on the first try. This made me really happy. It's the small things in life sometimes. Kind of like this next accomplishment....<br /><br />I managed to grab my water bottle and take a drink while riding! AND I put it back while riding. What now, biotch?! Yeah, I know. You're intimidated by my skillz. Don't worry. Today I managed to grab the water bottle but nearly dropped it, caught it by the lid, nearly lost control of the bike and rode off the path into the grass, forgot my feet were in the toe cages and almost fell off my bike. So this still needs some work.<br /><br />Immediately after the ride, we ditched our bikes, tossed our helmets, and went for a run around the block. We had been warned that your legs will feel incredibly weird when you make the transition from biking to running, and those warnings were definitely justified. I felt like someone was pulling down on the front of my legs while meanwhile, I was trying to remain upright and move in a forward motion. Not to mention that we had spent the last stretch of the bike ride going all out, so I was exhausted before my feet even hit the ground. But running after the bike ride was exactly what I needed to do...since it'll be exactly what I'll need to do 35 days from now... <br /><br />Today, we went for another ride. This time we went farther and were riding for about 2 hours. I am not even sure exactly where we were the entire time, but there were a lot of hills. A lot of BIG hills. As my brother was quick to remind me, it was perfect for training- exactly what I wanted. And he was right. But holy cow, I am the most exhausted girl on the planet right now. I think if, towards the end of the ride, a crazed madman had jumped out of the woods wielding a knife, I wouldn't have been able to move fast enough to get away from him. By the time we got back to the house, I had used nearly every bit of energy that I had. Which is, as odd as it sounds, a great feeling. And now, I can lie here and feel okay about being lazy and consuming a few extra calories. Because I totally earned it.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-858887925686812733.post-17811233896257630962009-06-15T22:06:00.003-04:002009-06-15T23:43:28.611-04:00Beyond wordsLet me start by saying that there are few times in my life where I really feel like I don't know the words to use to describe something. At worst, I can usually string together a passable description of what I think or feel, or what I've seen or done. At best, I can write something that feels perfect even to me, my own harshest critic. At this moment I'd love to do nothing more than find the most flawless and exact words. And although I already know I'm going to fall short, it won't stop my attempt.<br /><br />I write because there are always words in my head. And I decided to write here, in particular, not only because I needed an outlet, but because I needed a record. I knew that I was at the start of quite a transformation in my life, and I needed to not just live it but write it, too. Every single word I write and letter I type is straight from my heart. I hide nothing, I share everything; it's just how I am.<br /><br />Along the way I have been blessed to find that my closest friends, my family and even strangers love to read what I write. Nearly 600 people from 25 countries have read my words. I've received so many kind comments on my posts, so many words of encouragement, of understanding, of support. It's been incredible.<br /><br />But nothing has even come close to being as incredible as Saturday night, when I learned that the things I've gone through, the path I'm taking, the words I've written have truly been an inspiration for someone else. And I learned this in possibly the most perfect way imaginable. Actually, I take that back. It was unimaginable, even for me, who imagines everything. Every detail of what happened was extremely touching. The gesture in and of itself made me realize how much I was understood, and how much my words and outlook had made an impact. I could never have imagined a moment like that. It was one of the most sincere and beautiful things anyone has ever done for me. Ever.<br /><br />Although it was a public gesture, it was also a private gesture, and in a room full of people only a handful really knew what happened and how much it meant, which made it even more wonderful. And that's why, in contrast to my usual style, I don't want to go into detail here. Maybe some moments can't be described, some things can't be explained. And maybe, sometimes, even for me... they don't need to be.<br /><br />It's beyond words. Thank you.BumbleBeeRunninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17895456971455301489noreply@blogger.com0