Category Archives: humor

The Go Figure Diet

Posted on May 16, 2012 | Leave a comment

Here’s my diet plan…

(You won’t buy it.)

It will have a beautiful, visually appealing yet trendy cover and you will open it to crisp, clean pages of recycled paper…

Page 1:

You are gaining weight because your food intake to activity output ratio is out of whack.

You cannot eat for 3 hours per day and do little to no activity and think you are going to look like this chick:

Hell, I work out 6 days per week and I don’t look that chick.  She is a freak of nature.

That’s  the other thing, getting thin is a consequence of something else; making it your goal will stress you out and puts too much negative focus on yourself.

That would give most people the sads and you should be doing things that give you the not sads.

Making weight-loss a goal is stressful and stress just keeps fat where it is…so that just sort of sucks all around.

If you are an emotional eater like me, that right there could be the trifecta of bullshitzu.  Don’t do it!

Get healthy and the weight will come off…if that is your concern.

You can’t keep taking in and not putting out.  It all has to go somewhere and that place is likely your ass.

That’s where it is on me.

I laid off the working out and freaked out that I gained 5 pounds.

(Herrrrr Derrrrr!)

No shit!

I was oddly surprised that walking from my house to the garage and from the garage to my office building and back, plus 2 bathroom breaks per day, were not giving me 6-pack abs.

(WTF kind of shit is that?)

I did kick the scale to the curb (for the most part) and no longer weigh myself daily, but the toughest part about “dieting” seems to be the common sense part.

First, no dieting.  Diets are stupid.

Second, you have to DO something.  It is that way with life and your body and work and relationships, yada, yada, yada.

If you put nothing into nothing you get…

…6-pack abs!

No.

You get jiggly hips and a larger ass.

Maybe you get some boobies if you are lucky.  (I am not.)

Frankly, you have to figure out if you want to be thinner or healthier and go from there.

If you simply want to be thinner, we are not on the same page but all I can say is…eat less (and better)/workout more.

(Don’t do some stupid shit like not eat or only eat packets of ketchup and a Tic-Tac and call it a “meal” because if you do, you need more than a diet plan; you need a doctor for your head.)

That is the end of the diet plan.

I was 187lbs in 1995 and went from a size 16 to a size 10 in less than 6 months.

I did not follow a diet plan.

I did the following:

  1. watched what I ate (meaning fat grams, not crazy shit like salads and rice patties. I did not exceed 10 grams of fat per day. Yes, it can be done without eating like a rabbit.);
  2. ate 5 meals a day (big meal was lunch and the rest were small);
  3. stopped eating fried food (I had an addiction to Buffalo wings with blue cheese. I still do but now use the sauce and grill shrimp and mushrooms instead and serve on spinach leaves. I also now loathe blue cheese.);
  4. stopped eating portions the size of my head (see photo below);
  5. walked around my parking lot at lunch (you use what you have.)

As many times as I have told the story, I have never had one person try to do it yet I still lot a lot of requests for “help” or “advice” or “tips”.

I assume this is because what I did is free, did not come in a cute and marketable package (other than ME!), and did not happen in 10-14 days.

Yes, sometimes common sense takes a little longer than that quick fix that cost you some money and still has you upset at your body.

Go figure.

The End.

*Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to dispense any medical or nutritional advice.  The views expressed are solely my opinion and based on my personal experience.  Nothing expressed contradicts what is generally accepted as common knowledge other than to those in a suspended state of denial.  That said, I rise to the challenge that should you attempt to follow my personal “diet” plan and get fatter, I will buy you whatever diet plan you choose so long as you provide accurate documentation that you indeed followed the plan and did not drink pitchers of beer and stuff Double Quarter-Pounders with Cheese into your face 5 times per day and called that “common sense” and watching what you ate because your eyes were open.  That said, I would welcome a photo of anyone eating one of those awful things with their eyes open because I do not believe a normal person can look at that shit and still eat it.  Scratch that.  I do not want to encourage any assclowns to take their lives into their hands just to send me a photo that will gross me right the hell out.

I still follow the plan stated above, but I now eat lettuce-free salads and also routinely workout because it keeps me sane, makes me feel good, and because I am socially awkward it provides  me an environment to do weird shit with other freaks.   I do not walk around my work parking lot because it is quite small; I do however regularly run around the athletic track a block away at an embarrassingly slow pace which has been trumped by my race-pace skipping badassness.

If you are short on workout time, I highly encourage skipping…

(Actual skipping, not the the “don’t workout” type of skipping.)

…I also highly encourage the wearing of protective head-gear while skipping if you are cursed with my grace and balance.

Everyone has their own thing, but what I have done for the past 17 years has given me a pretty decent “Go Figure”…and I can dig it.

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Holding My Line

Posted on May 2, 2012 | Leave a comment

Oh sweet Universe, this has been a trying week!

WOOO!

I am not going to get up on a soap box and attempt to pontificate about how one should handle matters when tossed a heap of crap, because I am me and not you.

What I can say is that while I feel anger about the actions of another/others and frustrated by their lies, negativity, and general poor choices, I realize that it was a “teachable moment” for me as well.

I wanted to contact the parties and rip them collective new assholes with a chainsaw.  Sideways.

But, I breathed for a moment and asked myself if there was anything I could or would have done differently in my prior interactions with the parties and my answer is, no.

Other than to have never associated with them in the first place, there is nothing I would change as  they have taught me a lot about myself and I can see that evolution in myself.

I mostly felt sadness atop the anger regarding their actions…but the sadness was not  for me.

(Wow!  That sounds semi-douchey, yeah?)

Alright, I will wax philosophical a bit…

I felt and still feel genuine sadness for people (all people) who are so angry at life and themselves that they project and go about their lives thrilling in wreaking havoc, spreading negativity, and being generally toxic in nature toward others….and themselves.

I will say this, as I have before, allow actions to speak louder than words, but use your ears to listen not only to what is said but the manner in which things are said.

If someone is constantly knocking down others, blaming others, or gossiping about others, don’t allow them to make their issues yours.

People do fucked up things everyday.

All people screw up everyday.

I have my own set of issues and mistakes; I don’t need to take on anyone else’s.

Everyone has their own set of ethics and codes and maybe those do not fall in line with yours.

I am no saint.  I am no angel.  I am a bitch.  I am direct.  I lack sugar-coated fairy dust.

…but I don’t covet what I do not have (aside from bikes and shoes) and I do not take what is not mine.

I am too lazy to stalk.

Too bored to gossip.

Too germophobe and OCD to want anyone’s sloppy seconds.

Too comfortable in my own skin to think my vagina is mightier than my mind.

Typically, I will ignore a lie or gossip unless it is particularly hurtful to either myself or my friends.

…and the recent item(s) is/are dripping in sad and semi-tragic/semi-amusing irony…which lightens up any sadness I feel about how people act toward each other.

I have always maintained that I will stand by my principles and regardless of how unpopular they are, my line will hold.

My line holds now.  It is as constant as the sun.  I have more faith in that than I do in image or perception…or gossip.

Actions will always speak louder than words…no matter how loud or how mean or how big the smile when the tale is told.

“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours. ” 
― Wayne W. Dyer

When I disturb shit, I get shit.  Some people are just on a grander scale than me with regard to shit…and I can live with that.

*bigger smile* 

Peace.

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The Hilarious Misadventures of a CX Girl in a Tri World

Posted on April 30, 2012 | 2 Comments

Well HELLLLLLO!  How’re YOU doin’?!?!

Me?  I’m good.

As a matter of fact, I am frickin’ spectacular!

Why, you ask?

Because that dog-forsaken road tri (The Steamboat Classic) is over and I can go back to being normal, TT-hating Cory.

WOO HOO!

To be clear, The Steamboat Classic was a super fun, well-organized event.  The people were super cool and oddly normal…and calm.  It was a rather cool deal.

Because so many of you have been right there on the edge of your collective seats just WAITING to hear all the hilarious details of a tri-hater gone tri, here I am to spill the awesomeness.

What is awesome?

I am!

Hahaha!

You know why?

Because I did that shiznit in under 2 hours (1:58:49) when it was guessed I would do it under 2.5 hours and I knew that the girl who won my age category last year was at 1:54…or at least that is the number I had in my head.

But wait…that is not the actual awesome part.  There are a few…and they are ALL very funny (and rather amazing!)

Here we go…

First, this was my first time in a 50 meter pool.

Yeah…I actually refused to warm up in it and for the first few minutes, I wouldn’t even look at it.

(That sounds like an AWESOME start to a tri, yeah?)

So then we all had to line up based on our projected swim times and there was not a sign for “Swims Like a Rock”, which coincidentally is the true meaning of my name, if you did not know that.

So, I had to line up in a 14-15 minute section or stand alone in the 18 minute section…and even that seemed pretty fast for me.

I met some really funny ladies while we chatted about how slow we all are and one said to me (I think because I had on the most awesome Black Sheep Cartel tri suit ever), “I am not going in front of you.  I bet you act like you are slow and are really fast.  You are freaking me out.”

I literally cracked up.

“Ummm, no.  I promise you that when I say that I do not train on the swim and that my only hope is to not die and not walk the swim, I am not being humble.  If I could use Disney Princess floaties on my arms, I would.”

I told her that I would likely backstroke the entire swim.  She looked at me as if I had 3 heads.  I get that a lot, actually.

Sadly, she did not buy that and made me go in front of her.

We stood on the pool deck forever/an HOUR (whichever comes first) while the swimmers took off one by one in 20 second intervals, so we all got to know each other pretty well.

I think I bonded a bit more with Chris, who is a mtb’er and it was her first tri as well.

She had been training hard on the swim and I was pulling for her.  I decided to make her my rabbit.

She went off just before me and while it would have been cool to use her to pace me, 25 meters into the first lap, I freaked out and had to flip over to backstroke.

Chris/rabbit who…?

No worries, I thought.  I will alternate.

Yeah…no.

I backstroked.

Every lap.

In a serpentine swim.

Stephanie, the lady who doubted my swimming “prowess”, caught me at the wall with 3 laps to go and I let her pass..but then caught her…while still doing the backstroke.

That part felt good actually and I relaxed.

Plus, my lungs were not as shot as they would have been if I had you know…actually free-styled.

SCORE!

Hey, I was told not to waste my energy on the swim and I didn’t; just time.

We start laughing as we climbed out of the pool with an “I told you so!” and we were off to T1.

Here is where I lost an extra 2 minutes.

My crap was laid out nicely and I got it on wicked quick, but I chatted with some people, looked at Karl’s bike computer in amazement because he was already done with the ride, screwed around with my Strava, and then did a cx bike mount and off I rode.

I knew that Chris/rabbit was out there somewhere, but where???

I also knew that I had to DO something on the bike because I am allegedly a bike racer.

While true, I am not a road racer or a TT’er, I still pedal regularly (allegedly) and  this should (SHOULD) be the easy part for me.

I had on that goofy TT helmet (which I secretly love and always have because it is pretty), and got out of the saddle to chase on to someone…anyone.

In my mind, I am dead last in the swim (it turns out that was correct) and I needed to make up some time.

Now, if you have ever read any of my previous blogs from back when I did race the skinny tires, you know that weird things happen to me when I have a number pinned/strapped to my person and I get on George, the road bike.

I freak out.

I stop breathing like a human.

I spazz;  I cry;  I vomit; I get in a fetal position on the front lawns of strangers…

I hate road racing OHHHHHH so much.

Some would argue that I hate it because I am bad at it and I would argue the opposite.  I am bad at LOTS of things and bad at all stuff which involves a “Start” and a “Finish”, but nothing freaks me out like racing my bike on the road.

OK, so you will be impressed to know that none of that ewwwwey stuff happened yesterday.

I simply breathed like a human being while not riding as if I was on a Sunday stroll in the park with the purse pooch and actually did some passing of people.

It was nice….and new for me.

Now, I will not pretend that I was as fast as my lady roadie friends who shred the legs of mortals, but I ended up second on the bike leg and old George was naked as a jay bird of any TT’ing components.

No aero bars; no wicked rims.

I just rode in the “praying mantis” position taught by my teammate Gina Poertner…and it worked.  I felt very calm and relaxed…and grateful.

Chris (my rabbit) was the 3rd person of 8 that I passed and I knew I had to keep moving so that I could make up the time lost in the swim.

She cheered me on as I rode and I was really happy to have met her.

The bike course had some pretty cute hills and this worked out for me.  Had it been a straight, flat course I would be sitting in a corner and pouting.

But, it wasn’t and so I am not.

(YAY, HILLS!)

I rode back into transition feeling really good.

Karl was on his transition mat and done with his race.  We chatted while I figured out what I was (and was not) taking on the run.

(Another 2 minutes lost.  GRRRRR!)

Now, I always run with my phone because it has my Strava and I like to see the miles.

Also, for some reason if I fell apart on the run, I would have tunes and games on my phone to amuse me (in case I have to await an ambulance or other rescue vehicle).

Karl said, “It’s not likely anyone is going to call you,” and laughed.

So very funny, that one.  F*cker.

True…but had I known what he could (and yet did not) tell me about how unmarked the run course was, I would have taken the phone.

As he did not (and I like to blame him for shit that really makes no difference), I left without my Strava/phone.

Booooooo!

When I started the run, I felt wonky.

I got a sharp side stitch and tried to work it out by jamming my fingers under by ribs.

I pulled over and did some Vinyasa to work it out and calm me.

So this is where the other amazing part of my race comes in (because the bike part was not amazing; only abnormal for me).

Each time I would start to run, this knifing pain would slice me.

As I ran past the hospital, I looked at it and wondered if it was challenging me.

It seemed as if that asshole hospital was calling my name on the wind and playing  Jedi mind tricks with me.

Well, I out Jedi’d the little bastard because I ran on…but not very far.  Just far enough that I would have to go backwards to get to it and you don’t go backwards on the race course.  So there you go.

I could not get my running right and so like any other crazy person would do (especially one who knows that not many people are behind them in a race), I started talking to myself.

I mean, I was sort of letting myself have it…talking myself out of being mind-fucked and lame.

I was shocked that I was struggling with the run because that is the one thing I have actually been doing lately.

It was “killing” me not to know how far I had gone.  I do really well with making my runs into little victories.  When I do not know my distance, I sort of fall apart like the true baby that I am.

Little victories, people.  Little victories.

I need goals (and victories), and running for the sake of running is just stupid…unless of course we are discussing machete-chasing incidents which rarely if ever happen.

When I say I was struggling, I mean I was struggling like I did on my very first attempt at running when I was a wee lass.

I would run a block and then would switch to that geriatric mall walker bullshit you see early in the mornings if you find yourself in need of retail therapy.

Then I started calling myself a mall-walking lame ass and that made me feel really, REALLY old.  And lame.  But mostly old.

So then, I pulled out a move that would not only save me physically, it would save me mentally.

This move is so ninja it didn’t even know it was ninja.

Ready…?

Are you sure?

Because once I tell you my secret to finishing my run at an 8:54 pace, you cannot un-know this information and you will want to bow down to my awesome ninjaness.

It will change the way you look at me and if you don’t smile, you are either dead inside or so up your own triathlete-ass that you forgot how to have a little fun.

Ready…?

I skipped.

I skipped my run.

Not, “stopped doing it and ended my race and therefor not finishing”.

I mean, I skipped like a four-year old child with a puppy and an ice cream cone on a sunny day.

Not only that, but as Chris/rabbit (who was behind me) would tell me later, I skipped my happy ass a block off the course and did a little extra.

BAM!

She kept calling out to me, but I was in my ninja zen mode and could not hear a thing.

Now, of course when I took the last two turns I started running like Forest Gump, but frankly, felt a lot better…and still have my toenails and knees in tact.

I crossed the line and was so happy to have a sweet man there to bend down and kiss my feet…

Oh…wait…nope…he was just taking off my timing chip.

Dammit.

Oh well; he gave me a fist bump and I was done and there were still people out there so I knew I was not DFL, so that was good.  For me.

Now, at this point I was pretty sure in my mind that the ”run” took me 90 minutes to match my physical age of 90, because why would I not think that?

There were hills, I was delirious and talking to myself….and skipping.

(OK, even Betty White doesn’t skip and she is saucy, but you get it.)

I met up with Cristel and Karl, showered, and headed over to a super yummy brunch and award ceremony.

(Yes, I ate the award ceremony.)

*shakes head*

It is after all this that I saw the results.

Holy crapcakes!

My actual time is 1:58:49.

I did it!  I am under 2 hours and nothing else matters about the whole event in that moment except that I am not dead, I did not quit, and I am under 2 hours…

…until Karl sent me the splits and I saw my run time.

*gives mind-blown gesture*

8:54 pace.  3rd place in the run…skipping and geriatric mall-walking.

2nd on the bike and 3rd in the run…in a field of more than 3…and 6th place in my category.

(GO ME!!!)

We are off to see the Wizard indeed!

While all of this makes me happy, I am a realist to know I cannot pull that skipping nonsense in the XTERRA, but for today, I am wickedly ecstatic.

…and I think Anna is smiling too.

I have taken a lot of heat in the past 24 hours for doing this triathlon and all I can say is that I brought to it the cx spirit of fun and bad-assery that would make my dirty pink teammates proud.

Plus, Michelle called me “one of those mean cx girls”, so I knocked her lights out and took her trophy.

The end.

Bring on the dirt!

*Note: No Michelles in the hurt in the writing of this blog or the racing of this event.

All photo credit goes to Yvette Liebesman and Brent Newman.

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Posted in bike racing, humor, Life, training, Triathlons

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What Is Beautiful

Posted on April 27, 2012 | 1 Comment

Mandy Velahuff inspired me to enter the Under Armour What’s beautiful Challenge.

Mandy is awesome and fun and if you are going to do something like this, she’s a good one to share in the pain/fun/humility of the challenge.

You should check out her profile because she is very motivating and awesome!

I get motivated getting others pumped up, so I would like every awesome lady I know (and even the ones who I don’t know) to enter this challenge.

While sure the challenge is also a contest, whether or not you “win” the contest component of the challenge is irrelevant.

I am on Day 5 of this challenge and I am winning…to me.

The Sass and I are having fun with this and it has opened up a lot of dialogue.

I have to admit, it is pretty fun coming up with new ideas and harder ways to challenge myself and push myself.

Already I am seeing a change in me.

No, I am not seeing a 6-pack (yet) but I am seeing more smiles, more sweat, and more energy.

Because I am working toward a goal, I can feel my mind changing and that influences my choices.

For example, instead of scarfing an order of my favorite veggie layer dip at Hacienda last night, I shared the plate and did not take anything home to snack on later.

Why?

Because this challenge documents my changes and progress and the point is not  for me to finely cultivate a muffin top to my mid-section….or dog-forbid…a FUPA!

(Holy crapcakes, no! Just, no.)

That said, I ended up having a conversation last night that I had not expected and involved the outside (and mildly humorous) perception that I must eat really healthy and work out a lot.

The person was sort of down on themselves and had already staked their “idea” of me against themselves and I had to smile.  Kindly.  I have been there.

Nope, I am not the healthiest of eaters (I love carbs and specifically sweets) and I will order a salad or a bowl of soup just so I can have a big, fat piece of carrot cake.

Sure, I am big on portion control and making sure the presentation is visually appealing, but I balance good and bad…even (and especially) on my plate.

I told her that I hate exercising for exercise sake and that I have a difficult time motivating myself every day.

Every. Day.

Maybe if you don’t talk to me every day, you don’t know this about me, but sometimes I like to just sit around the house and do nothing.

Nada.  Zilch.  ZERO activities…except the occasional shifting of the legs and ass cheeks just to make sure they do not die and fall off.

When I do workout, typically it is riding my bike…which is more for mental therapy than exercise.  The exercise is just an added bonus…but if I do not ride, I am a total bitch.

(This shocks you, yes?)

Lately, I have added the running thing for Anna, but it’s not the same.  The running is with the intent to suffer…because why else would someone do such nonsense?

While I am working toward my goal of completing the XTERRA Scales Lake on June 23rd, I will have to do much more running and also some swimming…which is the hardest thing on which to motivate myself.

Likely, you will see lots of running and swimming things because to me, those things are hard…because I hate them.

(Who wants to do shit that they hate?)

I would rather adopt that 39-lb cat that I saw in the news than swim on any given day.

(Though if I lathered that beast up in peanut butter, my dogs would love him and that could be more entertaining than Post-its on paws, so scratch that; maybe fat cats are marginally more fun than swimming.)

I don’t know how this contest will go, but I have never felt more confident that I will complete the XTERRA than I do today…and I credit this competition with at least part of that.

In five days I have figured out that:

  1. I love my body with all its scars, curves, and jiggles.
  2. Some body parts are strong and some need a more work/strength.
  3. I am tougher than I thought I was.
  4. I have awesome friends who are willing to take this journey with me.
  5. I am not much different from many other women.
  6. I want to inspire and motivate people to be their best selves and say “f off” to anyone who wants to stand in their way or tear them down.
  7. I am beautiful.

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With the Paws of a Polar Bear

Posted on April 24, 2012 | Leave a comment

Alrighty…so remember yesterday when I claimed to be “semi-sane and semi-rational”?

Yeah.  Right.

So, I did some rethinking of the Steamboat Classic Triathlon on which I was bailing and came up with some decently valid reasons not to skip it.

Actually, the reasons to not skip it are significantly stronger than the reasons to skip it.

Reason to skip #1: I have not been swimming.

(OH MY GAWD!  I hate the swim so, so, SOOOOO much!  My dog is better at the structured swim than I am.)

You have heard this from me before, yes?

Meh.  That is an excuse.  So what that I haven’t swam much.  I suck at the structured swim no matter how much I practice so that is a lame-assed reason.

The swim is only a 450 meter serpentine, so I really have zero excuses here.  If anything, the swim is easier because I don’t have to count.

(Hey, I only learned how to pedal and spit without wrecking last year, so I need to pace myself with the multitasking business.  Sometimes when I am focused on laps, I forget to breathe…which could make for a bad day in the water, yeah?)

Reason to skip #2:  I have had a very emotional 2 weeks with all that has gone on with Anna and her subsequent passing and I feel emotionally and physically drained.

PSHHHHH!  I need to get the feck over that nonsense and get back out there.  I actually felt Anna shake her head at me when I decided against the tri yesterday.

Not to mention, I have actually been running, so I at least have that covered.

I rode my bike a few times and I still remember how, so that’s good.  It’s not a road race or a crit so no one will be near my wheels…or turning into me, so there is no fear factor.

I have to run and ride on Sunday anyway, so really…I can’t even hard sell myself on this excuse.

Reason to skip #3:  I am having hot flashes like a futha mucker, I am eating my emotions, and my body is a mess!

Sweet Mary Chain.  Even I am rolling my eyes at this one.

I am having hot flashes because I took myself off the hormones last month because I didn’t like what they were doing to my emotions and now I have the flashes.  So what?

With the hormones I am a weepy mess with an increased risk of breast cancer which is no bueno for Cory.  Now I have the hot flashes, but so long as they don’t happen during an event, I will be fine.  If they happen during an event, I will need to stop for a moment to get it under control.  If it happens in the water, I will have to back-stroke the swim but since that may happen anyway, who am I kidding?  Not even myself.

I gained 3 pounds eating my emotions the past week.  Whatever.  I recognized it and will likely lose 2 by the event just by eating like a normal human instead of a wolf.  Even if I don’t lose it by Sunday, I will live….assuming that I do not fall off the toilet before then.  It’s not a runway and a third of the event is under water anyway.  I’ll just wear a low-cut sport bra to push up the girls and draw the eyes up, up, up.

(Don’t act like this is not a little bit genius or that you didn’t know I am at least mildly vain about ridiculous shit.  I am and you find that amusing.  Admit it.)

OK, so now for the reasons to race…

Reason to race #1:  I want to.

Period.

(That’s was easy, right?)

Weird, but easy.

Reason to race #2:  A friend asked me to play golf of Saturday and if I do not race, I really do not have a valid reason to skip golf other than…you know… it being golf and all that.  Ironically, the golf invite comes from a member of the M-Dot Posse and really, how much of his crazy shit does he think I am willing to do?!  I believe this golf thing to be a sick ploy on his part to get me to do the tri.

I am on to you, Ironboy.  Believe that!

*raises eyebrow wickedly*

See how much golf sucks? I am willing to drive 124 miles to swim instead of looking goofy in khakis and wearing ugly shoes.

Oy.

Reason to race #3:  My first real event is the XTERRA Scales Lake on June 23rd.  The tri this weekend is my only chance to do an outdoor event before then and I really want to practice my transitions…which I think are the only thing that I have going for me speed-wise.

It would be logical for me to do an outdoor event prior to the event I care about, right?  RIIIIIIGHT?!?!

(Just nod your head.)

Reason to race #4:  I made a commitment to myself and my friends and we are going to have a blast!  Additionally, it is going to feel really good to complete this goal with my friends, all of whom have been super awesome (and patient) to/with me while I figured this out.

Reason to race #5:  My daughter will be proud of me because she knows how nervous the swim makes me.  This is a “teachable moment” for both of us and I need to follow through with it.

Reason to race #6:  I just publicly called out my own bullshit, so now I have to race and hold myself accountable.

OK, so there you have it.  That is a taste of the zero-cat-crazy that rolls around in my head while I lie in bed staring at the ceiling fan and pondering my daily decisions.

For the record, I decided not to swim yesterday, so that was a poor choice.

(See? I am a hot mess!)

The Sass is holding me accountable tonight though, so our swim suits are packed and loaded in the velowagon and we are heading straight to the pool after work/school and getting to business (for me) and fun (for both).

She is my coach this week and is keeping me in line.  We watched the polar bears swim in a documentary on Sunday and this morning she reminded me to swim like them and not use my legs much.  (Good advice, actually!)

Yeah, yeah…if only I had paws like a polar bear…I could do lots of cool stuff!

*grin*

That kid is going to keep me young; I gotta love that!

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A Funny End to an Unfunny Story

Posted on April 20, 2012 | Leave a comment

Yesterday, Anna was laid to rest in Brooklyn, NY.

I was unable to attend and we instead created a memorial to her here in St. Louis.

I loaded up the memorial wheel and all I would need for our little ceremony into my wheel bag, strapped it around my shoulders, climbed onto my mtb bike, and started the trek to the spot with Cristel and Ruby.

This particular trail is pretty rocky and is made “fun” and funny when one has a giant wheel bag strapped to their person and that wheel bag contains not only the memorial wheel, but bags of Skittles, a martini, a martini glass, ribbon, wire, tools, and a sandwich…just in case.

It was difficult not to laugh (as Cristel and I did) while we climbed our way up.

Once to the peak, we decided on the perfect spot and did what we needed to do to make it perfect for Anna.

We secured the wheel with some light wire and arranged some rocks to help secure it and stood silently for a moment.

I grabbed the Skittles and poured some into a sealed container and placed them next to the memorial for her.

Anna loved Skittles and had wanted me to sneak her one last Friday…but we couldn’t because she was severely diabetic, was struggling health-wise (clearly) and was unable to take in solids.

I wish now that I had given her the damn Skittle.  Instead, I got her a mango iced fruit bar and told her it was a margarita.  She liked it.

Now, Anna is getting her Skittles.  Wild Berry.

I poured some Skittles into the martini glass and poured over the magic lemonade martini and stood looking at her.

Cristel and I wrapped arms and she said a beautiful prayer.

Then it was on me…

I was speechless as I stared at Anna and thought of all the things that she had been through.

All the things that she taught me.

All that she gave to us….

…which was everything she had…all the time.

I thought about a letter she had received from my grandmother when I was little and how that note had devastated Anna.

I thought about the letter I had written Anna after that…when she was moving out of the family home.

I thought about how Lisa had found both letters at Anna’s apartment when she died.

They were written in 1984.

I ended up apologizing to Anna for all of us…and thanking her for everything.

I felt sad and drained and filled with remorse for how my grandparents had treated her and felt pride for how Anna carried herself and didn’t speak ill of either of them.

If I am lucky enough to live to be 85, that means I still have 45 years to treat people the way Anna did, so it’s not too late for me….or any of us.

I hugged my friend tight, took a sip of the Skittles martini, sprinkled a drop on the flower petals, tossed the rest and climbed back on my bike.

We sat there for a moment taking in the view that Anna would have and exhaled.

The ride back down the hill oddly enough has both ups and downs…and bushes with razor-sharp thorns.

I happened to tango with a branch of one of these “fun” bushes as I descended and ended up with more than a few adorable thorns in my fingers, hand, and bar grip.

As soon as I pulled them out, I of course gushed blood because I am a bleeder, so that was cute.

(I promise I am going somewhere with these details…bare with me…)

There were sections of the trail that had to be walked and bikes carried due to the wetness of the trail in those spots, so I ended up a little muddy…

As we got back to the car, I said goodbye to C & R and headed out.

As soon as I got in the car, the tears came.

Pure, loud, ugly-face sobs…

Snot dripping, eye-puffing messiness.

It was a great!

I drove to the gym to get my 5K in and walked slowly to the entrance…completely unaware of how I looked.

As I checked in, this is what the attendant saw…

What a sight!

Messy, dirty, bloody lady with tear streaks and dried snot.

Awesomeness.

“Are you OK, Cory?” he said.

“Yes….I’m sorry.  We just buried my aunt today and I am a bit of a mess.”

[Long, LONNNNNNNG pause here while the look on his face registers in my brain.]

“Oh my god!  No!  I didn’t KILL her! She’s in Brooklyn, NY!  I SWEAR!  Today was her funeral and we just placed a memorial to her up on a bluff and I got my ass kicked by some thorns….”

He raised his eyebrow impressively and I started to laugh.

“I swear!” I said.

I’m still not sure he believed me…but it felt great to laugh.

I’m sure Anna laughed too.

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A Rather Wise-Arsed Easter Bunny

Posted on April 9, 2012 | 2 Comments

Here we go.  Time for me to blurt out my feelings on Easter and that effing bunny and my semi-irrational loathing of a mostly harmless holiday.

(Lucky you!)

Every year I go through this…well…every year since becoming a parent, because frankly after 1981 I just stopped with the Easter except when I had to fake it at school.  (Because I went to Catholic school and they are down with The Stations of the Cross every Friday in Lent and they seemed to wait all year (ALL YEAR!) to tell the bloody awful story of Good Friday and Jesus, the Everloving Zombie.)

To be clear, I am not going to focus on the religious aspect of Easter at all, because Zombie Jesus and I are cool.  Frankly, Easter was a big “cross” weekend for my hippie friend, and his podium freed people’s souls while my podiums yielded 6-packs of wheat  Anheuser Busch products, thus proving that:  A) There is a Satan, and B) that my soul is worth about $6.  Awesome.

My gripe with Easter is now and has been since I was 8-years old, that effing freaktastic bunny.

First, yes I have researched why the hell there is the bunny and the eggs and I still scratch my head over how it has anything to do with Jesus, but whatever.  The trees at Christmas have nothing to do with him either, so I get that people are just weird.

We all know why I hate the Easter Bunny.  If you do not and you have a particularly boring life, you can read about the mess that is my mum and the Easter Bunny here.

If you do not want to read there, to sum it up, my mom started a chocolate business when I was 8 years old.  That business ruined me on milk chocolate and Easter bunnies forever because my mom’s Easter bunnies had penises.  Not just penises, but “camera ready” penises.

Fast forward to having children of my own and taking your kid to see the Easter Bunny at the mall…

Ty went exactly twice and I felt dirty.

Maybe you don’t feel like putting your kid on the lap of a rodent with an erection.  I didn’t.  The Sass has never met the Easter Bunny.

We have pointed and waved when in the mall, but otherwise no.

This year brings a certain relief to the whole thing though.  Almost as if the Easter story has been building in my 8-year old self.

Yesterday was the first time that I have ever (EVER) bought a chocolate Easter rodent for any child.

My kids always get baskets that would put the strongest ant in a coma, but never any bunnies.

I hate those effing things!

The chocolate ones; not the fuzzy little hoppers who sometimes like to commit suicide via lawnmower.

Thanks to my mom’s cute little business venture, I can’t even look at an Easter Bunny without feeling like I am going to bust out in a Tourettes-like episode and start yelling “PENISES!“

Well, The Sass likes chocolate and she gave it up for Lent, so I knew all she wanted was chocolate in that basket.

I walked into the store and there they were…in that special isle for dirty little things…the Easter Bunny isle.

Dammit.

I looked that little fugger with its beady little candy eyes and let my eyes drop to check if there was a penis.  None.  SCORE!

I picked out two bunnies in her favorite flavors and suddenly felt like I did the first time I realized I had a little ring on my bike while climbing a hill…

Hmmm…this is not that difficult.

I decided to pick a few more chocolatey bunnies for my friend’s kiddos.  I even tossed in a few obnoxious Peeps and jelly beans.

Hey!  Look at me making a basket with CHOCOLATE in it!  Woo Hoo!

I damn near skipped/tripped to the velowagon and started arranging Sass’ basket right then and there so I could act a fool when I got home.

Just then I heard a text notification on my cell and picked it up.

“Happy Easter. LOL -Mom”

I immediately got the raised eye brow/smirk combo and started laughing.

That bitch.  I was actually impressed with her ability to be such a wise ass and it made me happy that we can joke about the things that have cost me gajillions of dollars in therapy, bikes, and shoes (mostly shoes and bikes).

God love her…because she is a beautiful little mess and I am all booked up with my own issues.

The Sass giggled like a cartoon version of herself when she saw the basket and nicely eased herself into a genuine chocolate coma by 2pm.

For the first time in many, many, MANY years…I had a pretty fantastic Easter…and I hope you all did too.

*Disclaimer: This post is not to make fun of Jesus, Catholics, bunnies, or moms who make perverted chocolates.  I have never run over a real bunny with a lawnmower.  In fact, I have not used a lawnmower since circa 1986, so there you go.  While I have made my peace with the chocolate bunnies, I am still wicked freaked by those assholes in the costume in the mall but mostly because any adult in a costume who pleasures having little kids sit on their lap freaks me out and it is simply better for all parties that I am nowhere near such people.  I’m sure most are fantastic humans, but it really only takes one to fuck that shit up for everyone.  Some people hate clowns; I hate Santa and the Easter Bunny.  Let it lie.  I feel really fortunate to have made the journey I have with my mom and am even more fortunate that she found her way out of the darkness and decided to live.  While the child in me will always feel sad that I didn’t have a mom, I am happy that the mom in me is happy to have her now…and so is my daughter, who is thoroughly amused by my mom and her ranch/farm of misfit animals.

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Who Am I – Questions 21-30

Posted on April 3, 2012 | Leave a comment

It is that time again! It’s time for me to revisit The Feel Good Tribe’s 95 Questions to Help You Find Meaning and Happiness and get on with another section of the list.  This time, questions 21-30 (Just as the title states above.  Clever, huh?) 

What are you most grateful for?

My children; without them, my life would have been very different, very empty, and I likely never would have become a fighter or a survivor.  I didn’t really understand the concept of giggling until I met Tyler.  I came out of the womb 60 years old and fun was something I just didn’t “get”.  I am happy that my kids are not only the silliest, funniest, and wittiest people I know, but that they encourage me to laugh and goof off with them.  It’s really tough to top that when I look at my list.

What is worth the pain?

My children.  BELIEVE!  Ty came out in 2.5 hours without pain meds or episiotomy.  Life is also worth the pain.  There is far more good to be experienced than bad and even the pain feels fantastic…once it’s over.  (That last part is the real kicker though.)

In order of importance, how would you rank: happiness, money, love, health, fame?  

  1. Love
  2. Happiness
  3. Health
  4. Money
  5. Fame (BLEH!)

What is something you’ve always wanted, but don’t yet have?

Six-pack abs (which I must not actually want because they are not all that difficult to achieve), a debt-free home, and good hair.  I have everything else I need/want…but if you are feeling generous, I can always use more bikes; there are 2 types which would make my collection complete, so get on that, mmmkay?

The “sick” thing is something I have wanted fixed since 1999, but everyone is doing what we can and it really doesn’t bother me so much as it freaks me out some days.

What was the most defining moment in your life during this past year?

Being strong enough to silently stand up and walk away regardless of public opinion or perception.  My reaction to certain events was far different and I imagine it always will be from this point forward.

What’s the number one change you need to make in your life in the next twelve months?

Making my daughter proud and instilling in her the confidence that she doesn’t have to put up with abuse or bullshit before the concept of complacency is imprinted on her soul.

What’s the number one thing you want to achieve in the next five years?

The ability and confidence to trust more people outside of my current circle of protectors.

What is the biggest motivator in your life right now?

I am.  Derrrr.  The mistakes I have made over the past year are providing quite the motivation, but I have also learned a lot about myself and others and that makes things better/easier.

What will you never do?

Say “never”.  Wait…I feel ridiculously confident that I will never:

  1. Eat monkey brains;
  2. Eat bull testicles…or any other testicles (sorry, fellas!);
  3. Shoot/smoke/pop heroin…or crack…or dog-forbid crystal meth (WTF are THOSE people doing???);
  4. Have plastic surgery on my face for cosmetic reasons (unless a dog, chimp, or other tragic accident has occurred and then HELL yes!  Bring it!)
  5. Speak in Tongues;
  6. Buy a Geo Metro;
  7. Drink black coffee;
  8. Like beer;
  9. Own a goat…or a cat.

What’s something you said you’d never do, but have since done?

So, so, SOOOOOO many things!  Here are a few:

  1. Have children;
  2. Get married;
  3. Race a bike;
  4. Run;
  5. Go to Las Vegas;
  6. Enter a triathlon;
  7. Date a red-head [waves at ex, Dre!];
  8. Date a French National citizen [waves at Dre again…];
  9. Date a red-headed French National citizen from Kansas City for fuck’s sake!  [*squeezes to Dre!*];
  10. Own a station wagon;
  11. Buy a Chrysler product;
  12. Work in construction…

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Clear as Mud – A Dirty Girl’s First Tri

Posted on March 12, 2012 | Leave a comment

I did this little thing weekend before last that has confused some people.

I entered a tri (triathlon).  I know; I had to look it up in 2004 too.  Don’t feel ashamed for not knowing.

*sigh*

I sort of felt that I should probably try one out if I am going to continue to poke fun at my tri friends…

…and most of you will be happy to know that I still intend to do so.

So long as there are events with aero bars and running and until the people running are doing so whilst carrying said aero’d bikes, I will poke fun at tris.

Why?

Because.

And there you have it.

That said, I am likely to do a few more tris (as I mentioned last year) because my littlest, sweet Sass, likes them and it is the only sport she has ever been even vaguely interested in so I am supporting her on this.

So that I do not develop a twitch about the whole “swim-bike-run” thing, I have decided that I will do mostly off-road tris, specifically XTERRA events.

Why?

Simple.  I have no interest in swimming far distances or running far distances and the likelihood of having some mud at an XTERRA is far greater than at an Ironman.

Don’t get me wrong, I am exactly the type of personality who will do an Ironman event at some point just so I can say “suck it” to that one former Ironboyfriend who told me I was “too slow to get a road bike” and who now has man-titties.

(HAHAHA-triple-HA!!)…

…but for now, I still choose the dirt with a side of swim and jog.

So, for these reasons I did a little indoor tri the first weekend in March.

I won’t lie, I had stopped swimming the first week of February and had only run about once per week leading up to the event…because that is how I roll.  Slowly and in my comfort zone.

I stopped swimming because I am an ass.  As soon as I started making progress and relaxed, I let some stupid shit someone said to me wreck my head and I just stopped.

Once this happens, trying to get me to do something I do not want to do is like trying to walk a cat on a leash in a downpour.

(I would rather that you did not ask how I know this.)

I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever encounter when I want to be.  If I don’t want to be, you will feel as if the Universe has kissed your eyelids with a million sun-filled kisses.

So here we are on the morning of the event and because I was pretty smart and rode my bike the prior day with one of those Ironpeople in the cold and wind after staying out way too late the night before that, I of course had swollen glands and felt sickish.

I knew (KNEW) that regardless of said sick, I had to go do this tri thing because every one of the tri folk who know me knew I would find any (and every) excuse to skip this event.

I mean come on…Why would one ruin the zen that is a bike ride by RUNNING directly after it?!?!

I didn’t even run as a kid.

When I played softball that one year, I purposely/accidentally flung my bat after each hit so I would get thrown out of the game and not have to run with witness.

Once while running to first, I tripped and fell and was teased relentlessly and that was that with the running.  I was 11.

(Technically I did that very same thing when I was 16, but because I had boobies by then, the boys were all in a trance and no one noticed…sort of.)

So back to the tri…

While I am not a runner, I do not get freaked out by runs anymore and know I can do whatever distance.

Sure, I may not walk the next day, but I can and will do it.

Swimming was/is another animal entirely.

I could and did swim like a fish when I lived in Florida all those years and did not forget that when I moved here.  The problem is that fish swim under water….as they should.

(herrrr derrrrr!)

There are no free-styling, breast-stroking, butterflying fish.  They just effing swim.

I can do that.  I used to surf and snorkel.  I would spend HOURS in the water and never get tired.

However, it’s not “cool” to swim like that in a triathlon, so one has to learn a “structured swim”.

Yeah, I do REALLY well with structure…as long as I am the one dictating said structure.

The structured swim is like learning Flemish.  I just don’t see myself falling in love with it or doing it very well, yet I know it is important to the sport.

Swimming is to tris what beer hand-ups are to cx races.  I know that they are a big deal and yet I still believe I can get through the event without it.

For this reason, I watched the swim heat before mine.

Typically, I do not like to watch events before mine because I am frankly easy to mind fuck.

Watching the heat before mine was the wisest event decision I have made in a long time, which as someone who does not pre-ride courses, drink a lot of water the night before races, or get a lot of sleep, does not say a whole lot…but it was a good start for me.

I watched the 10 swimmers and felt a calmness wash over me and a smile expand across my face.

Some of those swimmers were doing things in that water that in normal circumstances might call for a rescue.

Some were beautiful; some were a mess.

Some were walking.  In the water.

I felt pretty good about things and knew that at a minimum, I would not drown and I would not walk, so I was good to go.

It was a 10 minute swim, so I had no idea how many laps I would get done, but was hoping for 10 and thinking based on my inability to breathe well that maybe I would get in 6.  I got in 13.  I am OK with this.

I did not die. I did not accidentally drown my lane partner, Crystal. I did not walk.

I had a plan to rotate between freestyle and backstroke every other lap, but after the 3rd lap, my “excitement” over doing an event where they write on your skin with a Sharpie took over and I flipped over to the backstroke and got my shit together.

When the whistle blew, I jumped out of the pool with a squeal and hugged Karl, the most patient swim mentor ever, and ran into the locker room (or T1 for the tri geeks out there).

I peeled off that swimsuit and hauled ass up to the super fast TT spin bikes.

I was the first one in my heat to the bikes.  SCORE!

It is another 3 minutes before the next person gets there and make no mistake, I was counting because that shit matters when you are in a suburban health club and need tri cred with the tri people.

Ask them; the transition is a big effing deal.

[Throws out "M dot" sign to the Ironpeople.]

That is why in real events I will be wearing one costume.  That is it.  I need all the time I can get.

(If you have met me or watched me race, you are nodding your head in agreement right now and I dig it; I like when you agree with me.  Doesn’t that feel nice?)

So, during the event, there are triathletes from Off the Front Racing who are there volunteering and being awesome and nice and Diane tells us that the bike computers are wonky.  That they “zero out” if you pedal over  55 “MPH”, which sounds fast in theory but in reality is not sweat-inducing…for almost anyone.

I mean, I may have felt wicked fast for a minute because it was effortless, but then I realized that everyone was as bored and sweatless as I was.

So with my hopes for anyone falling apart on the bike dashed, I decided to spin and Tweet my race updates until the run segment since the distance was maxed.

(I am an awful triathlete.)

Time to transition to the run and off I go…

I run into a friend and we hug and chat and I hit the treadmills.

First again!

DOUBLE SCORE!

I am nothing if not a great transitionalist.  (I just made that up.)  

In truth, it is easy to transition when you don’t have to grab actual equipment and don’t have to worry about getting to actual destinations other than other areas in the gym.

So the run starts and I am relaxed and just warm enough that I don’t cramp.

I don’t really want to talk about my run because I didn’t run it as I would in an actual event.  I did pyramid intervals to keep myself focused because treadmills suck and if I didn’t entertain myself, I would fall asleep and fall right off that damn thing.

(Don’t pretend that you don’t know in your head that this has already happened.  You know.)

Five minutes into the twenty minute run and all I am thinking is, “Seriously?  I poop like thrice a week and I have to go NOW?!?!”  

Yes; I really thought that because that is what my body felt like.  It is just not right to do this running nonesense to yourself.  You know why?  I did not actually have to poop.  In fact, I did not poop until Tuesday.  So any event that makes you feel like you have to poop when you do not, is just unnatural.

It is natural to run if you are being chased by that one girl from high school with the machete or if there is some other emergency during which a bicycle or helicopter will not do, but otherwise, no.

I have a friend who was with the frowny face this weekend because he only got in 15 miles of his planned 16 mile run.

[Shakes head.]

If you ever catch me saying this shit, consider this free license to smack the snot out of me.

I believe that any sport which makes you sad after it or makes your feet ugly should be avoided and from what I can tell, a bad day on the bike is still way better than the best run.  Perhaps that’s why runners only smile at the END of their events…and why so many switch to cycling after they grind their knees to nubs on the inside.

Anyway, when the event was over, I hugged some people, got in the velowagon and headed to the mtb trails to have some actual fun…because the type of athlete I am is as clear as mud….as it should be.

*Note: I would like to thank all my tri friends who let me poke fun in jest at their sport.  The dedication to your sport and training is awe-inspiring and I am fine to watch you do all that work.  You have all been ridiculously patient and kind to me and regardless of the jokes, I love watching you swim.  Watching the swim is one of the most relaxing things I like to do.  Thank you for all the tips, support, and cheers.  Eventually, I will do your “M Dot” thing and I will suck at it, but I look forward to it if not simply because you are all a super fun group of people and are not in fact “from another planet” as I oft state.   Much love and smooches.

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Gory Musings – 3.12

Posted on March 5, 2012 | 1 Comment

I have a cold.  When this happens and I take cold meds, I like to record the weird shit that pops into my head.  Today is such a day.  Lucky you!

Admittedly, some/most/all things could be researched/Googled, but that is boring, no?

OK, here you go…

Why do strawberry candy, apple candy, and banana candy never taste like the alleged fruit they represent?  (For the record, neither do most of the other flavors, but I like other flavors more and hate these flavors so I am calling them out.  Posers)

Why can my dogs go 8 hours without having to relieve themselves but as soon as I get home, the wolfy-looking one has to go every 30 minutes and poops almost each time?

Do the people who get belly button lint just not know how to shower properly?  If so, what must their bean/foreskin situation be like?   (Ewww.)

Why are so many males with properly functioning penises so challenged at hitting the inside of the toilet?  Maybe more penises are broken than I imagined…?  (Explains a lot, actually.)

How did everyone not get the memo regarding pubic hairs and the maintenance/cleaning up of such?  Do I need to fax this memo to those living in the 90s?

Why do mean people always think they are clever or original…or not mean?

Has everyone’s handwriting worsened since the 80’s or is this just my issue?

When did having Bipolar Disorder become “trendy”?  If everyone has Bipolar Disorder then it is the norm and therefore not a disorder.  Can we then go back to calling people “bat-shit crazy” if they are more disorderly than the norm?

Why is Chobani passion fruit yogurt do delicious?  (Seriously; why is it?)

What do you do with people who speak the way that they text/IM?  (Is slapping them acceptable?)

Is it appropriate to throw things at people who look OVER the restroom stalls? (WTF are YOU people thinking?!?!)

Why are snot-rockets so satisfying and fun?

Do the people who tell others to “relax” really think that commanding relaxation works?

What do you do with people who demand truth like a candy-starved toddler and then freak right the hell out like a candy-robbed toddler when they get it?  (Rob the candy, I always say; at least the show is entertaining.)

Do spin instructors really not know that they shouldn’t use terms like “control the load” and “make it hard enough to stand”?

Can body builders (the really big ones) reach all their wiping spots or do they spot each other in the restroom too?

Why do I always get sick when the weather gets nice?

Exactly how many tubes of Shot Bloks is normal for daily intake?

Why does my dog like coffee beans?

Why can I never sleep in unless it is a work day?

Why does it hurt so bad when you hit your shin?

Why is it that I am more active than my mum but move like I am 80?

Why is it that workdays are always longer than weekend days?

Why does money not grow on trees?

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