Signed Up For My First Olympic, Crazy, I Know

Crazy. I am. I know it. But if you aren't pushing the edge of something you haven't done before... isn't it really the same experience? A settling into a new ‘comfort zone’?  I could easily trot along, happily doing a couple of sprint distance events every year. However I’ve also completed about 8 full sprint distance training triathlons, starting from my local pool & 2  woman only sprint distances. Both of those were great.  I made goal at one and was off of goal on the second due to  mechanical issues and hesitancy in the swim. Haven't I spent way too many years numbly ‘comfortable’? Unaware of any possibilities within myself. Alive yet not living?  Am I ready for an Olympic? 


While working at Texas Renaissance Festival as a beer & wine wench(earning for a bike rack & HW monitor) , I was thinking and thinking about this. Do I sign up or not? Decide too late & there would be no available slots. This region isn't blessed with an overabundance of Olympic distance triathlons, nor am I over-abundantly financed to be able to travel far with a bike & gear for an event. Am I ready for an Olympic? No. Not right this second, not even next month!  I can do the distances individually. Not happily and not with speed resembling any animal that ambulates at a speed between the turtle and the hare. More like a snail.


I thought back to January, when I slunk hesitantly into the TAMU pool next to Zentriathlon base camp athletes. I didn't think I could do that either. I was almost sick with nerves, hands shaking, toes cramping. The other side of the pool was a LONG ways away. I eventually made a few laps, slithered out of the pool to watch. Art in Motion. These athletes were so sure of themselves, full of technical jargon, spandex, lycra, heart-rate, cadence, low body fat, nonchalant kindness. Maybe they had never been fat, yet each of them was holding their own challenges at bay through triathlon training. I wanted to be a little more like them.


Almost a year of training and two triathlons later. I am a little more like them. An athlete. Yeah, a fat athlete, but still an athlete!  An individual using triathlon to re-pattern a life more sustainable. Transitioning alone, for no one but myself, I’m making those healthy choices more and more often.  A few dates have commented on my ‘weird eating habits’ and my ‘going to bed early’.  I hear them and wonder how much more narrow my compatibility field of life partners is becoming. As I continue forward into my own unknown, the field will narrow until only one is in the focus. I am looking forward till then!

Meanwhile my quiet version of crazy will continue and increase. I have the goal of my 1st Olympic triathlon to train towards.Come out and cheer me on Sunday April 3, 2011 at Kenmah in Galveston Texas at Gateway to the Bay!

Texas Democratic Caucus

I rode my bike to the caucus yesterday. After all, somehow I became a precinct delegate, and got voted to the nominations committee. I was a bit nervous to be pedaling thru this neighborhood. It almost qualified to be considered a rough area. But having reconnoitered the location ahead of time, I was aware that the less then 100 parking spots were in no way going to be enough for the expected turnout of 700-900 county level democratic delegates.

What amazes me is that our government is still around.. And sort of considered a world power (world bully, if you will)! Believe me, I am not some hyper aware, democratic rabble rouser. I’d probably be more inclined to accept labels such as libertarian, green party or anarchist. What an unaware, unorganized social gathering populated by the concerned; with awareness levels spanning the spectrum from completely unaware but wanting a change to educated by other’s opinions from late night tv; to the few possibly truly educated Phd’s who were there subliminally supporting their own agendas. Unfortunately I would count myself pretty close to the completely unaware, undereducated, concerned individual.

The only Zen of the day, was the bike ride to and from…Substitute Caucus for Circus and you have a more descriptive term for the three ring event. Prior to the county caucus, I received a 44 page booklet written completely in legalize. These were the rules. Each one of these carefully worded, politically correct sections circled around the laws and loopholes of party regulation while being as clear as obsidian. I translated what I could into laymen’s terms in the corners.

Even at this low level; who you know and money matters, LOTS! Some people Wanted to go to the state caucus. Some people Wanted their friends to go. The democratic party is ALL about Equality and Balance. Privacy is shoved aside as unimportant as they wish you to respond to questions regarding sexuality (are you straight, gay, transgendered, bi), What religion do you claim, What languages do you speak… ETC ad naseum.

If you are a protestant midget of Peruvian descent that is transgendered and speaks 3 languages with a high school education AND you are a democratic delegate… What attributes will another delegate selected need to have to provide a balance for you; aside from being ‘for’ the opposing democratic candidate. Oh and its your money, vacation day’s from work and time that you will spend, should you be elected as a state or federal level delegate. BAH HUMBUG.. But this is till better then having another primate in office.

Hours later, I slowly pedaled home. Being neither wealthy in funds, nor vacation time, I declined to be a state level delegate. These posts went to the fanatics, the monied, and the retired. Are these individuals’ true representations of the Democratic American public? You tell me. Personally I don’t think so.

Fell Off the Wagon (eerrrrr bicycle) This Weekend

My almost routine…. went right out the window this weekend. And food and chocolate went in.

Something occurred that unexpectedly upset me. Something didn’t occur that I was curiously anticipating. (Nothing major which makes me feel even sillier) Something I thought I could avoid snuck up on me anyway.

After a surprising disappointment and a silly disappointment, I wished my granny was around to talk with. She was a tough Ukrainian émigré, raised in the Yukon, till she meet my Air Force grandpa & married him. By the time I was around, she was running an East Texas farm, full of down-to-earth hard earned wisdom. We didn’t always understand or agree, but we always loved one another. The last few years of her life, I was lucky enough to live a couple of miles around the corner from her.

This week is the anniversary of her murder. The subconscious never forgets, even if your conscious is letting you pretend. I thought I was going to sneak by it. Be completely over it… Traumatic memories don’t loose clarity with time. When you are home alone, one can’t maintain illusion, if no one is there to observe. The most celerity way I can cope is to set a time limit and allow myself to immerse into the depths of poignant katzenjammer.

I wallowed. I napped (had nightmares really), cried, only spoke to one person(for less then 1 minute) on Sun. I ate pizza, tapioca, toast, home made hot chocolate full marshmallows, Baileys, Guinness.

What do you do to force yourself out to exercise when your heart is heavy? Do you work thru it or allow yourself the day to wallow?

Nothing for it but to develop a deeper understanding of self and to get back on the wagon (or bike in this case!)! This ought to be proof that I can be an emotional eater… And that emotion plays a huge part in ability. Success in my case will have to stem from completing an action (like exercise or refraining from eating/overeating) in spite of poor emotions. After all I did pay for that 5K, so I AM going to complete it!

Tomorrow’s another day. Opportunity for another beginning at my new routine.