tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6365670973392970462024-03-07T21:41:12.495-06:00Trial by Firechange has a way of burning through your life - just when you get comfortable.
choose.
hunker down and hope you don't get burned or stand up and let the fire make you better. stand up and affirm that change isn't the enemy. comfort is the enemy.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.comBlogger166125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-27986719335651629702015-05-02T09:26:00.000-05:002015-05-02T09:26:19.596-05:00Reality CheckThis sums up this morning's ride:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/R97TsVDC1BY" width="560"></iframe><br />
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I had such high hopes after averaging 18mph on a chunk of my ride two weeks ago. I envisioned climbing hills with ease, hauling a$$ down the bike lane, commanding Rabbonni (my husband's bike, f.k.a. Teacher, renamed in Aramaic. Because, well, seminary) with such skill and confidence that I look like someone who actually, I don't know, rides. So. Yeah. That so didn't happen.<br />
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There are a number of factors that contributed to the crazy slowness of this ride. It was a route I'd not ridden before. The roads were crazy rough. There were some hills. My legs were sore from yesterday's intervals and swim. But, mostly, it was just that I'm still such a newb. <br />
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I almost fell over at the first light - started to lean to the left, where I was still clipped in, and had to frantically unclip before I toppled over at the intersection in front of God and everybody. <br />
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Things went alright for a few miles after that, until I dropped a chain at another light - it was quite comical, really. I'd been waiting for what seemed like forever for the light to change. Low traffic means not very many cars to set off the light sensor. I was beginning to consider walking over to the crosswalk and pressing the button when a car came up behind me. Finally! I clip in and realize that there is no tension - the chain had dropped from the front ring. I then had to scurry over to the sidewalk - only on the left side of the road, of course - and fix my chain. As I was doing this, of course, the light changed. grrr. So, I used the crosswalk - walking the bike across the road in case I lost the chain in the intersection (terrifying thought!!) and continued. <br />
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About three miles from the end of my ride, it happened again. This time, I fixed it and it dropped again when I was about to take off. Three strikes and I was out. I called TriHubby and asked him to come and get me. Defeat. <br />
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As I was waiting for him, I looked at my ride stats on Strava. 11.9 mph Average?!?!? Then, I felt a little better when I saw I was awarded QOM for one segment. Cool! Until, I saw that I was the only one to attempt that hill this year. Looking at all time women - I was DFL. Insert deflating sound effect here. Crap.<br />
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So, I have a much longer way to go than I thought. At least as far as today's ride is concerned. You win some, you lose some, and sometimes, you fall over. <br />
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<br />Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-375302051503006022015-04-10T17:15:00.000-05:002015-04-10T17:15:00.640-05:00Oh. Boy.I'm registered. Lake St. Louis Triathlon 2015. Short course. August 22. Gotta do it now...<br />
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I'm a little queasy. And super excited. Triathlon Season 2015, here I come. Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-70877998223366425752015-03-20T17:32:00.001-05:002015-03-20T17:32:45.088-05:00Paving the WayI had an epiphany this morning while I was lacing up my shoes. Funny how that happens sometimes - the epiphany and the run are so intertwined.<br />
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Anyway, what I realized is that all this time I've been beating myself up for failing, all of this time that I've been berating myself for not making a "comeback" - I've been paving the way for this time and this place. I'm so afraid to claim a 'comeback', so afraid that I'll fail again. But I can't fail. Because everything I do is paving another mile of the road to where I want to be. Everything. <br />
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Even if I blow off a run and sit on the couch - a piece of pavement is laid as I realize that I would've felt so much better if I'd put on my shoes (or gotten on the bike, or jumped into the water.)<br />
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Even when I "fail" I learn what doesn't work. Even if I don't make it to Lake St. Louis this time, or even if I race it and suck. I paved a little bit farther. There is no fail. There is only forward.<br />
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Pretty bold, I guess. But Phoenix is bold. That's why I like her.<br />
<br />Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-60972496231337091142015-03-19T17:25:00.001-05:002015-03-19T17:25:55.148-05:00Still Moving ...I'll be really honest. The thing that's kept me away from here for the last bazillion years had nothing to do with a new baby (now 6!! How did that happen?), nothing to do with seminary (graduated and a full time pastor!! How did THAT happen?), nothing to do with being busy or a hundred thousand other excuses and everything to do with being bitterly disappointed. <br />
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I was so sure that I would rock my comeback. That I would drop the baby weight and get into racing again ASAP. And I've MISSED it. Like you miss an old lover when you're lonely. MISSED it crazy. And I just haven't made it back yet. I did a sprint a couple of years ago. It sucked. Or, rather, my racing sucked the race was great. But I was overweight and undertrained and all around bummed out. I've done a couple of half-maris and those were kind of cool. But not the same. You can't go back.<br />
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But, you can (I can) go forward. I'm still training. Not like I used to but I'm hitting pavement and trainer. Water is next. I'm moving forward. Eating better. Kicking myself around less. <br />
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Phoenix is still here. Still moving. Forward.<br />
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May it be so ...<br />
<br />Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-27847962245753570362015-01-05T10:09:00.000-06:002015-01-05T10:09:29.294-06:00Oh, yes.I listened to an awesome podcast by Zen and the Art of Triathlon this weekend, "How to Train", and it really helped shift my mindset about my training right now. He talks about polarized training and doing almost all your training either really easy or really hard - limiting the really hard bits to just 15-20 min./sport/week. <br />
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I took that philosophy into my trail run this morning and oh. my. goodness. did it change the way I felt after. It really made me realize the way I've been driving myself into the ground since Noah was born to try and get back into shape, like, yesterday. And that, like my perfectionist tendencies in general, was actually totally defeating my purpose. I'd overtrain, get injured or sick, and have to quit for awhile. Then, start the whole damn thing over again. Now, I've had some successes since then. The Half Mari in Kansas City a couple of years ago was great. But, even then, I think I've been dancing on the edge of overtraining for years now. <br />
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I know better. I really do. When I actually did this right, eight years ago, I did a LOT of slow stuff punctuated by intervals. The slow stuff drove me NUTS - it did - but it made me stronger and more resilient and happier. Like this morning's run. <br />
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I'm at a very base level of fitness right now. Fast is like 9:45 for me and I can only maintain that for a short time. Zone 1-2 is over a 12 minute mile just now. And that's humbling, it is. But I have to make peace with where I am if I want to get to where I want to be. So, today, I did just a few hard intervals in my running segments (I'm still taking walking breaks of a minute every ten minutes). I didn't even get 7 minutes of hard in and I took it WAY easier on the rest of the run than I have been. But I feel AMAZING right now. I didn't finish the starving or shaky or in need of a nap - as I have been. We'll see if I feel the need for a nap later this morning. <br />
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But, I think I'm on to something. If I can just relinquish that pride and that brutal self-bullying and that need to be somebody I was a long time ago and just release myself into what is - I actually have fun. I LOVED being out there - like I always do, but I loved it without feeling like I was about to keel over. <br />
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So, there is a life lesson here - DUH! - in addition to a training lesson. I hope I can hang onto it for awhile. Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-18640786640521225712014-12-31T16:32:00.002-06:002014-12-31T16:37:44.466-06:00Once Again for the First TimeThis afternoon, on my "wog" (walking and jogging), I was thinking it had been seven years since I started training for my first triathlon. That would have been elegant. Seven is a number of completeness, a biblical symbol of wholeness, a symbol of full circle and Sabbath and returning to the beginning. Its been eight. So, oh well. This doesn't have to be deeply symbolic to be true.<br />
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A lot has happened in eight years. Three triathlons, countless 5k and 10k races. Two half-marathons (one of them a failed full attempt). Two stress fractures, a calf injury, more stops and starts than I care to count. More significantly, deepening a marriage, a child born, sent to daycare, preschool, kindergarten, first grade. Another through grade school, then middle, then starting high school. Another with a Masters, another into college. Seminary. Call. Graduation. Ordination. Trying to adjust to the blessings and challenges of life as a full-time pastor.<br />
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And now. Today. The fire again. I want to go back to where it started. Lake St. Louis. Sprint this time. <br />
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I'm not yet sure how. But I saw a 10 week plan on my Sufferfest app and something jumped in me. So, the plan for now is build a base until late June. <br />
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I'm publishing this to make it real. For posterity. For motivation. And to start writing about this again. Writing does something for me. Heals, bolsters, encourages, challenges. Maybe it will also save my congregation from hearing about training every other sermon. Maybe it will connect me again with the amazing triathlon community that I experienced before. Maybe it will just be words lost in cyberspace. <br />
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But its a good day to start something new. The last day of 2014, a tough year for many of us. A tough year for my city. Its a good day to start over again for the first time. May it be so. <br />
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<br />Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-81515396060333778772010-04-10T19:58:00.000-05:002010-04-10T19:58:26.471-05:00And Now for Something Completely Different<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbel-wamwP2_-EE-jQZxKmVG4pEe9xZfKfW580o8NG1546NzCWhjO2AnZ2psE6EC-8y6ZD5m2Yk2Znn3XrAhZOjvZjqI89b9isT8qwzXL60K4J7-jsLW3uDdhtyGBbS08OoIrL5AYuZem/s1600/completely+different.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbel-wamwP2_-EE-jQZxKmVG4pEe9xZfKfW580o8NG1546NzCWhjO2AnZ2psE6EC-8y6ZD5m2Yk2Znn3XrAhZOjvZjqI89b9isT8qwzXL60K4J7-jsLW3uDdhtyGBbS08OoIrL5AYuZem/s320/completely+different.jpg" /></a></div>There's a little race tomorrow. I've got my packet, my t-shirt and my number. They all say "marathon". But I'm running the half. Or rather, I'm running and walking the half. I ended up being three weeks out of the saddle with my injury. And, in order to keep from re-tearing my calf muscle/tendon, I had to ease back into running. I'm still only running in 5 min. intervals - though I'm sure I could do a bit more without hurting myself. So, I'll run some and walk some tomorrow and there will be a big fat DNF next to my name in the race results. So it goes. I couldn't change to the half-marathon because it was sold out. They told me I could go ahead and finish the half - and I would get a half-marathon medal and finish line amenities but I wouldn't have an official time. S'alright. I'm bummed, to be sure. But its only a race.<br />
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Its only a race. And life has been good. Very good, actually. Running and anything related to it bums me out a bit but there are bigger things than running. Much bigger things.<br />
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So, in honor of the Biggest Thing of all, its time for something completely different. Its totally out of left field for those who don't know me well - and for some that do. I don't talk about my faith much on this blog - the last thing I want to do is preach and alienate people. That's not my thing, really. But, I do want to preach. Or Somebody wants me to preach. The Call is a long, bizarre story so I'll leave that part out. The Result is that I dropped my application for Seminary in the mail today. You heard me. Seminary. Something Completely Different. But, maybe not that different, if you look at where my life has been headed - this strange and awesome trajectory that I only recently began to understand. Its out of my hands. Always has been - at least when its been at its best. When I try to take over, I mess things up but good. <br />
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So that's it. That's where I'm headed. I'm closing this blog down. Its been a source of support, joy, and accountability and I'm thankful for that. But, its time to move on. Its time to stop measuring myself by miles and inches and pounds. Its time to stop measuring myself, period. I thank you, gentle readers (all three of you ;) and I wish you the best of everything in all your journeys. May the Lord Bless you and Keep you in all your ways. Thanks. Peace Out.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-38367035132423815172010-03-08T14:03:00.000-06:002010-03-08T14:03:02.840-06:00Certifiable<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ttbMNzMLqO2PPoHiyzhyG9YNLf8Ns8Bl56HasXZAqja0z5Rwcue1Cz7UOm_k0DOtK9EzEqYNUQ6qNznnxD9w8nJ3W8Vrhmfy0DUhYFonzaqOfpjLZKHKVEjYofZ67xrXYJCZfWXRW5_/s1600-h/brazil_nut_case.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ttbMNzMLqO2PPoHiyzhyG9YNLf8Ns8Bl56HasXZAqja0z5Rwcue1Cz7UOm_k0DOtK9EzEqYNUQ6qNznnxD9w8nJ3W8Vrhmfy0DUhYFonzaqOfpjLZKHKVEjYofZ67xrXYJCZfWXRW5_/s320/brazil_nut_case.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Last week, after coming close to killing myself during a 16 mile pain fest, I was advised by my boss (a triathlete) to seek counseling. At the time, I thought he was joking. Now, I'm not so sure.<br />
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Turns out pushing through the pain for 8 miles isn't such a great idea. The consequences this time around are an injured calf that refuses to heal. I've run twice since February 28. The first was a three miler that was relatively do-able - my calf was sore but didn't seem to warrant stopping. I was limping the next day. The second was yesterday's attempt at a "long run" - just one 4.5 mile loop of Queeny Park. I didn't get a half a mile. <br />
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So, there have been some tears. I'm not sure I'm out of the marathon. I have the number of a chiropractor that treats athletes and I'm reserving my final verdict until after a visit with her. I may try to run tomorrow morning - advice marathon vets? If I can't get back to a reasonable training schedule by next week, the full Mari is out. I can probably do the half - we'll see what the Doc says. <br />
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Even though I'm not officially out, I'm heartbroken. And a little relieved. After some time resting, its pretty clear to me that I was suffering from overtraining. True to form, I would never have admitted it until my body forced me to acknowledge reality. I've got to stop this ridiculous self-torture. When will I find the line between training and punishing? Looking at old posts, I think I had that line before. I suppose my all-consuming drive to "get back to my former self" after Noah was born has completely warped my judgment. Two stress fractures and now this whateveritis are evidence enough that I push myself too hard. <br />
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Balance is elusive.<br />
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And still . . . I long to finish what I've started - to cross the line and hang the medal. To put that silly 26.2 sticker on my car. Lord, please save me from myself. Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-8595228486208197002010-02-25T10:08:00.001-06:002010-02-25T10:09:42.177-06:00In Case You Didn't Know Already . . .This week, I actually feel like I'm in training for a Marathon. I know. I've BEEN in training for a marathon but the miles are starting to look really big to me. Sunday's run was fifteen miles - in hilly, rocky, lovely Queeny Park. I surprised myself by finishing without the usual moment of despair that seems to happen with every long run.<br />
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And yesterday, in the middle of the week, I ran an 8 mile tempo run. 8 miles. As a mid-week tempo. That's when I really got it into my skull - and into the rest of me - its really happening. I just might pull this thing off. I might actually run 26.2 miles and live to tell about it. Wow.<br />
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Speaking of pulling this off, friends, the time is getting short. I am launching my full fledge Begging for Money campaign - starting here and extending to friends and family (be ready for the email, Ma), work and hopefully some public venues where I can wear my tshirt and ask strangers to give me there cash. Well not <em>me</em> but my buds at <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Wine To Water</a>. Doc is in Haiti right now, bringing bio filters to the people of Haiti. As you probably know, they are in dire need of clean water over there right now. You can click on the video in my sidebar to get a glimpse of what they're doing over there. If you double click it, you can get the full screen. Maybe a super-techie out there (that does <strong>not</strong> mean you, spam robots!) can tell me how to make the video viewable in my sidebar. Its beyond my skills. <br />
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ANYWAY - the time is now friends. If you can and want to help out, even if its just $1.00 or so, please do. You can visit my <a href="http://www.firstgiving.com/larissaforsythe">fundraising page</a> or go directly to <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Wine To Water</a>. Tell your friends and family, tell your enemies. Please, help us out - this is an urgent but fixable problem. Love to all of you still reading and those of you who happened here by accident! Peace out for now.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-52547169135871230782010-02-17T20:06:00.000-06:002010-02-17T20:06:36.373-06:00Whine Fest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhr43O1CuO_Y5WiBKdAUNgGUjVLmAZCBRy1dEj7N4z0SBbdXzVXn76sCSzg9Sps76ZeMQZjvHyvPv_OvlvSqurVaMWuzkjdX6usKoTMf6niwa1jKmNFQ4-UCdhmTFB948lbFWjj6TXAQiW/s1600-h/whine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ct="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhr43O1CuO_Y5WiBKdAUNgGUjVLmAZCBRy1dEj7N4z0SBbdXzVXn76sCSzg9Sps76ZeMQZjvHyvPv_OvlvSqurVaMWuzkjdX6usKoTMf6niwa1jKmNFQ4-UCdhmTFB948lbFWjj6TXAQiW/s320/whine.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Sheesh. Has it been that long since my last post? Wow. <br />
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I've been struggling with feeling lousy the last couple of weeks. Back and forth from being laid out on the couch and running/swimming/spinning and feeling great. I can't figure it out. I'm eating plenty. Sleeping as much as I can - which is probably not enough but, I'm trying. And still . . .<br />
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In the meantime, I've gotten a 14 miler in - 14 miles is a long way to run any way you look at it. Its far. But I gotter done. Last week was a recovery week which finished off with an "easy" ten mile run. The kicker is that it did feel easy. Kinda. As easy as ten miles can feel to a mere mortal like me. It went fast and fun as well as I was lucky enough to meet up with a dude training for an ultra and going about my pace - he slowed down for me and I sped up for him. It was fun to talk with someone who knew so much and was so passionate about running. <br />
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Yesterday, I did a tempo run at a little over six miles. This morning I swam. Tonight I feel like I got hit by a truck. So, I'm going to bed.<br />
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Just thought I'd check in - in case anyone's still out there. Coming Soon: The Final Push and a Plea for <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Money</a>.<br />
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Peace out.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-45263082737406993862010-01-31T20:43:00.000-06:002010-01-31T20:43:43.702-06:00Sweet SpotIt's been a long week, friends. Boy Genius has been having more migraines than usual (he started getting them in first grade, he's an intense kid) and woke up Monday morning feeling nauseas and exhausted - which is usually the start of the things. I kept him home from school and called the doc. They couldn't get him in until Wednesday - by which time he had been out of school Mon, Tues and part of Wed. His doctor wanted to do some blood work to rule out anything serious. Boy Genius - who is ten- has never had blood drawn (except by finger prick which, of course, is not what needed to be done). He was incredibly brave, talking to me about the book he was reading while they dug around in his arm, trying to find a vein. I, on the other hand,was trying desperately not to pass out. Thankfully, the blood work came back normal and he's feeling much better. <br />
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From Boy Genius' doc's office, I went to the Walgreens clinic because I was feeling pretty crappy. The nurse there - who was incredibly nice and took loads of time talking to me and examining me - diagnosed allergies and gave me some stuff which has pretty much nullified the symptoms. <br />
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The piece de resistance of children and doctors occured last night around 9:00. Noah had been sounding a little raspy when we put him to bed but seemed fine. Then, an hour or so after we put him down, he woke up crying and making a sound that no parent should hear from their child. If you've ever had a child with croup, you know what "strider" is and will probably never forget it. He just got over a case of croup that went to pneumonia in December so I knew what I was hearing. I tried the usual - a steamy bathroom, a trip outside - but nothing seemed to be helping. Hubby got him calmed down but, even asleep in his Daddy's arms, he was still making that "whooping" sound with each inhale. After some debate which shall remain confidential, we went to the emergency room. They promptly gave him a steroid breathing treatment which helped immensely and gave him some oral steroid as well which made him strangely hyper but much better. We were sent home at midnight. <br />
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Its tough to see your kids sick - especially when it seems to occur one after the other, insult following injury. When we go through these things, I thank God that we live in a time and are in a position where treatment is available and effective. I can't imagine what the mothers at the turn of the century - or those who are desperately poor in our time - went (go) through. To watch your child suffer is bad enough, to be able to do nothing to help must be unbearable.<br />
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This week, as most weeks do nowadays, culminated in my long run - a longer run than I've ever done (which is also normally the case these days). I chose to head out to a nice flat trail by the river to do my 12 miles and change. It was a beautiful day. I left a happy if slightly hoarse baby with a content if slightly tired Daddy. The sun was shining. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. I had some new tunes on my iPod and my legs were fresh from a rest week. After everything that went down this week, it was beyond luxurious to have a couple of hours to myself. The first hour was glorious. It was warm enough that I wasn't chilly but cool enough that I felt refreshed. There was a fresh coat of snow on the ground (I'm laughing at myself just now because I accidently typed snot instead of snow. brings about an entirely different image). The river was clear and reflected the sunshine. Lovely. <br />
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At an hour, my legs started hurting a little - not a lot. I found myself slowing down if I let my guard down which, ironically, was harder than keeping my normal "cruise" pace. Your instinct is to slow down because you're tired but it turns into a slog if you slow down too much - and it feels like more impact, at least to me. Going too slow will wear me out as quickly as going too fast. You have to find your sweet spot and stick with it. Natural enough at 6 or 8 or even 9 miles. But, you start getting closer to that ten mile mark and the body just wants to call it quits. By an hour and half into it, I was hurting for real. I had to fight myself to stay in the sweet spot - even though that remained the most comfortable pace to run and I didn't feel worn out. As I closed in on the two hour mark (my run was to be 2 hours and twenty min.), I was sure I couldn't go on. "I can't" my quitter brain would whine. "yes. you can. suck it up." Beast would growl. I had run to the end of the trail and was almost back to the start where I would have to turn around and run another twenty min. before doubling back again. I'm not gonna lie. Turning around was hard. I was praying again, asking for the right attitude, asking to find the joy, to move above the pain. But I turned. And I ran. Then, just a couple of minutes into my second lap, something happened. The cloud in my brain lifted. My legs felt a little lighter. A thought came like a bolt from somewhere deep - "I will not be defined by suffering." Yes! " I will be defined by perseverence, by my stubborn determination to keep on putting one foot in front of the other, no matter what." That's it, friends. That's it in a nutshell. <br />
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I finished the run. The remainder actually felt pretty good. It hurt. But it still felt pretty good. I hurt now. But I feel good. The baby's in the bath, dinner' s in my belly, the day is almost done. Everyone is well and another long run is in the books. These are the moments that define our life - if we let them be. If we resist our temptation to identify with the suffering and ignore the blessings. Only we can decide what we will be defined by. And its a choice that's not made once but a thousand times a day. God give me the strength to choose right more than I choose wrong. And the strength to keep at it - no matter what.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-84299438812777816052010-01-19T06:28:00.003-06:002010-01-19T06:31:21.435-06:00And the Verdict Is. . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm89Ei9pzTNA66pGadhXTlR1-jV8pb8tJS0XxAHYAEosnrR8VwWxOzmt5eE78ZoJYhhKyJWzzc-xpQdqjYhimtRMK8O5HptKykVFIAB6s1Mhyphenhyphenmjm4RT7SwXhP2WDSNWFDd0CIk8FuqqKX/s1600-h/judge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm89Ei9pzTNA66pGadhXTlR1-jV8pb8tJS0XxAHYAEosnrR8VwWxOzmt5eE78ZoJYhhKyJWzzc-xpQdqjYhimtRMK8O5HptKykVFIAB6s1Mhyphenhyphenmjm4RT7SwXhP2WDSNWFDd0CIk8FuqqKX/s320/judge.jpg" /></a><br />
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Mostly, dumbass. Sure,there are elements of badass in Sunday's run: running in pain for an hour and twenty minutes, finishing the run with 3 twenty second pickups despite the pain, heck,just finishing the run. And there were many good things about the run - I had my nutrition absolutely dialed in. Though my legs were KILLING me, I never bonked and didn't even crash very hard afterwards,which is typical of me after a long run. I usually come home famished, eat everything I can get my hands on and pass out on the couch (or at least try to pass out on the couch, its hard to sleep with a nineteen month old jumping on you and yelling "Mommy!"). On Sunday, I was certainly hungry but a protein smoothie and some graham crackers did the trick. I took a short nap but didn't feel like I would die without it. So, the day of, I felt much better than I had. Yesterday, though, every muscle below my waist was screaming in unison: "YOU ARE A DUMBASS!". Thus, the verdict. <br />
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My legs feel pretty good today - tired but not 'injured' which I was a little afraid of. Training for something like this - especially something that is just beyond what you can reasonably accomplish - is always a dance on the fine line between overtraining and pushing yourself, between injury and soreness, like I said before, between badass and dumbass. I still don't know if I can do this. I'm confident after Sunday's run that its going to hurt like hell. As of right now, though, I can continue to press forward. I didn't hurt myself - not permanently - and, Praise All of Creation, this is a recovery week. I'm taking today totally off (which I should have done instead of swimming yesterday - dumbass!) and running easy tomorrow and Friday with an easy spin on the trainer on Thursday. Sunday's run will be about 6 miles which should ( I emphasize <em>should</em>) feel pretty easy after 11. <br />
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In other, much more important, news, the charity I'm running for, <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Wine to Water</a>, has set up an emergency fund for Haiti. As you probably know, clean water is paramount over there right now. If you can spare anything, please visit their site and click on "Haiti Emergency Fund". Or, visit <a href="http://www.redcross.org/">Red Cross's</a> website or <a href="http://www.unicef.org/">Unicef</a> - whatever you feel called to do. From what I can see, Red Cross and Unicef are providing emergency supplies for immediate relief and organizations like Wine to Water will move in for long term solutions. Both are needed so, please, do whatever you are comfortable with. Also, <a href="http://www.soles4souls.org/">Soles4Souls</a> is collecting shoes for the victims of the earthquake (think about all the broken glass and metal on the street and how many of the survivors you see on television barefoot) so, if you have any old running (or other) shoes,visit their site and find a drop off location. I'm pretty sure many running stores are participating. <br />
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Disasters like this remind us how important it is to reach out and help those most in need - this earthquake was made many times worse by the extreme poverty the Haitian people endure. With that in mind, I'm going to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep asking people to give what they can. You do the same.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-76349921371996105282010-01-15T17:48:00.000-06:002010-01-15T17:48:14.893-06:00A Fine Line<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJG17YXHr11o_W5FS0bExBAwKLr4zRGlyYXF8Y7V9ZGNZ35DvBw-y6uVFkrTeqgeYIzk5LCHriZ0n3fvO0NdZnbHWnvpSUh5kj00TKGVXMhPCVct_4Rt0dOCWoDzIYrSbuwxaF0a7yLl4v/s1600-h/dumbass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5YaDABjcrpvnnzTa4YVGXweRens3OMpURjbTlhabznluyCXab0qsX_mlg0SwdaUtnMDd_UQV00962WebtMex6aQp5PGhAslgvMdEBV73pm3R-8Y6_xFv7MHW4ZiiEKy3ixcObrdHHzOZ/s1600-h/dumbass+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5YaDABjcrpvnnzTa4YVGXweRens3OMpURjbTlhabznluyCXab0qsX_mlg0SwdaUtnMDd_UQV00962WebtMex6aQp5PGhAslgvMdEBV73pm3R-8Y6_xFv7MHW4ZiiEKy3ixcObrdHHzOZ/s320/dumbass+edit.jpg" /></a><br />
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There's a fine line between badass and dumbass. That's been my lesson for the week.<br />
<br />
First, the gym, Monday morning recovery swim - the pool was cold (well, not really, it wasn't HOT which meant that, to the rest of the gym, it was cold) at 74 degrees. I was in there enjoying the solitude and being able to swim without feeling like I'm sweating. Everyone who glanced in the pool and saw me going at it was thinking "dumbass". <br />
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Then, Tuesday, back at the gym for speedwork - the track was covered in ice and I actually wanted to haul a little. I was running late and was at the point that I needed to start running NOW in order to get the whole run in. I was rushing to get my winter stuff off when . . . the fire alarm went off. Wha??? So, me and the other two chics who were about to work out headed out to see what was up. Nobody on the gym floor was reacting. They all kept on running or doing the stair climber or lifting their weights. They didn't even look up. The lone employee (it was 5:30 in the morning) was running around trying to figure out what the hell the problem was. Luckily, I had the day off so I decided to come back for my full speedfest later when the daycare opened. Meanwhile, two ladies came from the back and announced they smelled smoke. The gym rats kept on with their workout. I'm thinking, what if the building were burning down? Dumbasses.<br />
<br />
Later, I was back, hitting my pace for 6 x 800. The first one was hard. The second one felt great. The third and fourth were agony. The fifth felt fab. The sixth took everything I had. Now, Joe Friel says you should stop when you have one rep left in you. That would have been after the fifth. But I had a 6 x 800 on the books. So I kept going. When I got off the dreadmill, my legs were saying "DUMBASS!" However, after some stretching and a long nap with Noah, I felt human again - and I wasn't sore at all on Wednesday so. . . maybe I was a badass. Too soon to tell, I suspect.<br />
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I'm getting faster. Thursday's tempo run was right about my old 10k pace. Not my PR, but my avg. 9:00/mile 10k. Now, if I can just get my full run in on Sunday . . . which will it be - badass or dumbass. Tune in next time to find out.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-86392026217515548732010-01-11T08:43:00.003-06:002010-01-11T09:35:40.770-06:00The Run That Wasn'tYesterday was a beautiful day for my long run. The temperature had climbed into the mid 20s, still cold but, with the sun, it felt warm compared to the single digit highs we've been having. Snow covered the ground. The only thing foul was my mood. Hubby and I had a tug of war earlier in the morning over the rest of my season. My marathon training, along with the added responsibility of a toddler, has him a bit overwhelmed and my mention of more racing sent him reeling. Unfortunately, what I heard wasn't "less racing" it was "no more training." Now, we all know how important this is to me. How much I've missed it and what it means to me to be "back". So "no more training" didn't sit very well with me. Which, as you might guess, is an understatement. I suspect the struggle going on in my mind - the wrestling match between my desire to be reasonable and to be a good wife and mother and my (possibly compulsive) need for training, for "me time" - had something to do with what happened later.<br />
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After last week's effort, I had decided to just take it easy, do my alloted time and not worry about distance. With that intention, I headed for Chubb Trail - a nice, long trail that meanders through the woods and hills of West County, intersecting three State parks in the process. The plan was a 1:45 run, out and back. I had my Gatorade and some Sharkies (I thought I'd try something different since the gel went down so badly last week), a flask of water to round it out. I put on my Yak Traks and headed down the trail. <br />
<br />
The first two miles or so are mostly downhill with some moderate but short inclines that lead you to the Meramec River Valley and three or more miles of flat, lovely running on soft dirt, sand and gravel (or, in yesterday's case, snow). I kept it real easy the first 10 min then realized I had to pee. Great. The trail wasn't crowded by any means but there were a number of cars in the parking lot which meant someone could come along at any time. In the summer, the underbrush on either side of the trail offers plenty of cover but, in the winter, you might as well drop trou in the middle of the trail. I was lucky, however, and found a little ravine to do my business in. So, relieved (hah!), I set out again. My heart rate hadn't even had the chance to come back down. It was going very well. I was inordinately thirsty but thought nothing of it - though I did try to take small sips to ration my fluids for the duration. I picked it up a little after my warm up and pit stop and was feeling fine. I came to the valley and was looking forward to winding around the creek and reveling in the beautiful, snow painted landscape. I was about thirty minutes into my run, keeping my heart rate in a modest range, cruising along. Then. I bonked. Hard. My legs turned to jello. I felt shaky, dizzy, a little disoriented. I stopped and tried walking, hoping I would get my bearings and be fine. I sipped Gatorade. I tried different combinations with my various layers, thinking maybe I was getting too hot. Finally, even though I was only thirty minutes in, I ate a few Sharkies. Then a few more. Shit, I was HUNGRY. So I ate the rest. I started to continue the loop but, then, my rational self reminded me that the last thing I wanted to do was to bonk hard more than five miles from my car in the middle of the woods at 23 degrees. So, I turned around, absolutely defeated. At first, all I could do was walk. Then, I was able to jog until I came upon a dude and his three unleashed black labs who took an unhealthy interest in me (the dogs, not the dude) and managed to head butt me breathless and knock off my fuel belt. Only after my meager rations were in the snow did the dude think to call off the dogs. Like it didn't occur to him before that the tired looking running chic might not want to entertain his boisterous dogs for five minutes before getting back to her car. You can tell I was still feeling kind of snarky which is probably a good sign - at least I had the energy to be in a crappy mood. <br />
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After a few minutes, the sharkies kicked in and I got back to the car without incident. I was far too tired in relation to the miles I did, so I know I did the right thing turning around but I still feel like I failed. It frightens me a little, brings up too many what ifs: what if I can't do this, what if I'm reaching too far, what if its over for me and this silly little obsession is nothing more than a pathetic attempt to hang onto my Youth (who is, as we speak, packing her things and surfing the net for greener pastures). I know I'm not old, by any means, but I can't be described as "youthful" anymore. I'm a grown up. So, what if grown ups aren't supposed to want to do things like this? I could list my insecurities for hours but wouldn't <em>that</em> be boring. <br />
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In the end, I made it home. I had a civil discussion with Hubby in which I calmly told him how important it was for me to do this and which he calmly told me that he would be supportive but that the amount of racing I was proposing was too much for him to stomach. Less racing I can deal with. Less training, even (after the marathon). Less is fine with me. None is not. So, I've come to some peace with all of that. Its an uneasy peace, but I'll take it. <br />
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I'm still puzzled about why I bonked so hard. I would love some advice from you veteran marathoners out there. I didn't eat a whole lot before hand - I couldn't finish my lunch two hours before, though I ate most of it. It wasn't really carb heavy - a salad and turkey on a whole wheat pocketless pita. Maybe I should eat more carbs just before my run. As I've mentioned, I'm trying to drop these last ten pounds so I've been cautious about my calories. I had my usual Zone bar about 15-30 min. before hand. I got enough sleep the night before. Could I be overtraining? Up to yesterday's run, I've felt pretty energetic though I feel a little worn out today. Was it my emotional turmoil? I know that can be just as exhausting as a workout sometimes. Anyway, input is appreciated.<br />
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Meanwhile, I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other. You do the same.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-57894434909462201172010-01-09T14:24:00.000-06:002010-01-09T14:24:58.289-06:00Pyro<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpU8HCkQ_UCVET2gWO9nj5hHnpW7yQxt-nnT7k_DclkBDGJlObuilmoXoIZs1rmY295DFDFNQTXFiJfbVu6YVDrf4CYWWmAvYtwcFasvHSfMiElWniREVKGLCuTeY7i4tQXpXRnpaETtX/s1600-h/pyro+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikpU8HCkQ_UCVET2gWO9nj5hHnpW7yQxt-nnT7k_DclkBDGJlObuilmoXoIZs1rmY295DFDFNQTXFiJfbVu6YVDrf4CYWWmAvYtwcFasvHSfMiElWniREVKGLCuTeY7i4tQXpXRnpaETtX/s320/pyro+006.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I got on my bike Thursday night. Just on the trainer in my laundry room, but still. Poor Pyro has been neglected, hanging forlornly from the ceiling. Her tires were flat. The brakes look a little iffy. She needs some attention.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Man, I'd almost forgotten how much I love that bike. And how much I fear her. Just putting some air in her tires made my pulse quicken and the butterflies flop around my stomach. See, she's the Beast in corporal form. I "feel" Beastie stir when I'm on my runs, "hear" her encouragement when I need it most or her low, rumbling growl when I consider staying in bed rather than hitting the track or the pool or the spin class. But Pyro <em>is</em> the Beast. I don't know why - maybe because the bike has always been the scariest, most challenging aspect of triathlon, maybe because Pyro is painted with fire - that's just the way it is in my mind. Beastie is this firey crouching thing - part animal, part machine. And when I'm in the saddle - even on the trainer - its like I'm riding the Beast - 90 miles an hour with my hair on fire. Its terrifying and exhilerating all at once. I've missed it. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, I also remember . . . Pyro bites. <br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNQ-eP5C_i2ttCELL2NvwXpHBld8fqIDwFuXwIKgJMgyLbeR9IRn3MYtFJoaU2NnleyBQOrqlyeiZEl4sB80WAheUV_XtxW_dp7AbL8XhtceeslzLWh_fLLIv01XyeORxeTj6jv24tLhY/s1600-h/pyro+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNQ-eP5C_i2ttCELL2NvwXpHBld8fqIDwFuXwIKgJMgyLbeR9IRn3MYtFJoaU2NnleyBQOrqlyeiZEl4sB80WAheUV_XtxW_dp7AbL8XhtceeslzLWh_fLLIv01XyeORxeTj6jv24tLhY/s320/pyro+002.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so does the Beast. <br />
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She can be encouraging, empowering and faithful. <br />
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But get cocky, or careless, or fail to respect the danger that lies at the heart of her and you can end up on the pavement. <br />
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She doesn't put up with false bravado, ignorance of limitations or any general monkey business. That's one of the things I love most about her. It also intimidates the hell out of me. Damn, its good to be back.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-42339673860028880582010-01-05T20:56:00.001-06:002010-01-05T21:29:53.819-06:00Decorational Athlete<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYG0nEc32U707Oi8JOn9ht-Ht2L2YOJ51-qFojOJAgyqEEZPjpePTT7abWjYXDBw1NwPqWC7QdZLG8av43EbfEcY9jyHxHBzc7MPi7Kq4TJFt-cj3lVnoLcUcnV-2F2IlvVgpi_ehP8Er/s1600-h/decorational+athlete.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYG0nEc32U707Oi8JOn9ht-Ht2L2YOJ51-qFojOJAgyqEEZPjpePTT7abWjYXDBw1NwPqWC7QdZLG8av43EbfEcY9jyHxHBzc7MPi7Kq4TJFt-cj3lVnoLcUcnV-2F2IlvVgpi_ehP8Er/s320/decorational+athlete.jpg" /></a>There's this chic in my spin class. The first time I saw her, I was sure she was a triathlete. She just has that look - confident on the bike, disciplined, buff beyond belief. Then, the other day, I realized that I only see her lifting weights or spinning. I never see her run or swim. That doesn't mean anything, necessarily, but then, it occurred to me - maybe she's a decorational athlete. You know, a person who is serious about fitness, training and nutrition but for the singular purpose of how it makes them look. I'm not saying there is anything wrong with it - its just a value system that I've been trying to get away from. That the way you look is the primary goal to any endeavor. <br />
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When I was a teenager and a young woman, I didn't care if something was healthly, only that it wouldn't make me fat. I smoked, I ate crap just because it was "fat free" (shows you how much we knew back then), I exercised - but it was always about how it would make my legs look or my arms or my abs or my butt. Most women and many men are obsessed with these things. We live in a society which prizes appearance over nearly everything else. Beauty = power. Its exhausting. Because not all of us can be beautiful - at least by our narrow cultural standards. And those who are beautiful realize only too soon that beauty fades - at least the kind that is defined by youthfulness. I've met Boston Marathon runners that have gotten boob jobs, Ironmen who obsess about their body fat percentage, cyclists who worry what their thighs look like in a pair of jeans. And me. Before I got pregnant, I was hoping to lose yet another ten pounds so that I could get my body fat down and be lighter and, therefore, faster. Truth be told, the "faster" excuse was just a cloy for my own desire to be closer to the "cultural image" of beauty. Now, I wish I could just lose the last ten to get me back to where I was. And, next year, I'll probably be back worrying at the next ten pounds, right where I started. <br />
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When does it stop? One of the things I love about Crossfit is that it focuses on performance not appearance. If you can do the pullup - you win. Who cares what your back looks like while you do it. Racing is much the same. Though there are competitions within the ranks - silent, appraising competitions where each athlete compares his or her body to the one beside them - the bottom line is finishing time. Whoever makes it across the line first wins. They don't have a scale or calipers at the finish line to separate the buff from the average. It doesn't matter if you <em>look</em> like a winner. And for those of us in the back-middle of the pack, the ultimate test is how we run ( or swim or bike) compared with how we did it last time. Did we beat our record? Or did we feel better than we've ever felt or go farther than we've ever gone? Objective, comforting numbers. <br />
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Back in September, 2007, I found someone inside myself that I didn't know was there. She was strong, she was powerful - and those things made her beautiful. I began to find my legs attractive because of what they could do not how they looked. Sure, it was cool to see all those muscles but what was cooler was that they could carry me across a fifty mile bike ride or a ten mile run or an Oly distance tri. They could take me places I never thought I could go. I wish that feeling had been permanent, but, unfortunately, the old patterns creep in. I want to get back to that place where Power = Beauty, not the other way around. And power, friends, is out there if you're only willing to grab it. Let that be my New Year's Resolution - to strive to embrace my power and not my desire to be a knick knack. Let someone else be a decoration - I want to be a Phoenix.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-36910581065393209812010-01-03T20:45:00.000-06:002010-01-03T20:45:58.085-06:00Long RunLast week's long run was great. I felt fast, I felt fabulous, I barely got tired. My first trip out to Queeny Park, I did a loop in 50 min (as compared to my former 45 min avg. time) and was pretty happy with that. Last week, same loop, same effort, same heartrate - I did it in 47:30. I was thrilled. I was encouraged. I was cocky.<br />
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Nothing like a long run in 15 degrees to knock the pride out of a body. My hamstrings are particularly pride-free this evening. Today's long run was, in sharp comparison to last week, a suffer-fest. <br />
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Well, that's not ENTIRELY true. The first hour was actually pretty good. It was cold. Did I mention it was 15? That's pretty cold where I come from. But it was good. There were a few nasty patches of ice that slowed me down some, but I felt strong. My legs were a little sore from yesterday's one hour yoga session, but I was doing it. I finished the first loop in 48:30. A minute slower than last week but, you know, the ice. So, I was pretty confident that I could finish my scheduled hour and a half without a lot of trouble. <br />
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I started my second loop, made it up the hill of my nightmares without incident, finished sucking down a gel - which did not go down well, anybody else get heartburn on a run??? yuck - and completed my first hour with only thirty minutes to go. Then the wheels came off. <br />
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My legs started telling me there was just no way they could go another step. Total whiners. I tried ignoring them but, as they were doing most of the work, it was getting difficult. So I started making deals with myself. Get to the top of this hill. Get to the next turn in the trail. Walk up this little stretch and you can go again. Everytime I looked at my watch to see how long I had, it was only 30 sec. since the last time I'd looked. The bright side was that my heartrate went way down because I was hurting too much to go fast. Whine, whine, suffer and bitch. I wish I could say that I was thinking about the men women and children that I'm running for and the intolerable suffering that they have to deal with every day, but I wasn't. I was thinking of myself and my sad, out of shape body and how much I just wanted to stop running while at the same time I felt like I would just die if I stopped running. Then this morning's <a href="http://i.ucc.org/StretchYourMind/OpeningtheBible/DailyBibleReadings/tabid/109/articleType/ArticleView/articleId/310/Born-Again.aspx">daily meditation</a> popped into my head. I just started getting these from UCC's website (my church is affiliated with United Church of Christ) and the prayer at the bottom of this one struck me in particular: <br />
<blockquote>I'm your child, Lord, while I run this race. And I don't want to run this race in vain. I'm your child, Lord, while I run this race. Amen. </blockquote>So, that prayer started running through my head and that started helping. I've always half-joked that when a run was getting particularly difficult that I was "running with Jesus". Nothing like running with the Lord to make you feel like a big fat whiner... "but my <em>leegggs </em>hurt... wahhhhh". Anyway, after a half mile or so of that, I realized that I was picking it up again and my legs were feeling a little better. (To clarify, I do NOT think that God healed my sore muscles so that I could keep running, I think He's got better stuff to do) Then, according to my watch, it was time to start cooling down, so I slowed it down and felt WAAAY better. Then I came to a sign. I technically only had another five minutes or so left to run. But the sign said "2 miles" to the trailhead. Two miles to go and I would have made another loop - 9 miles total. My old long run. My back in the day Phoenix kicking some arse long run. So, I picked it up again. If the Lord had still been running with me, I'm sure He would have advised me against such a foolhardy decision. But, as it was just me and the Beast at that point, foolhardiness won the moment. I ran another fifteen minutes - 1:40 instead of 1:30. But I made it. <br />
<br />
And I've been paying for it ever since. My brain stopped working as soon as I stopped running. Or maybe it had stopped working long before and I just didn't notice it because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. My legs didn't seem to know how to walk. And that heartburn really started telling me about it. So, I overdid it. Nothing new, really. Truth be told, it was kinda fun.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-29595938082255205062010-01-02T23:12:00.000-06:002010-01-02T23:12:05.119-06:00Happy New Year!Happy New Year, One and All! May you enjoy and relish the year ahead and experience each moment as though it was your first.<br />
<br />
<br />
To ponder - A lesson in going after what you want and enjoying every moment once you get there:<br />
<br />
<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y9aVe9vFEFk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y9aVe9vFEFk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-21414918256441566542009-12-28T08:03:00.007-06:002009-12-28T17:48:55.917-06:00Running for Water<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhYkaCzs4ttSjHEivIj3rA4PXwkFJAFcjWv3_Ubehm1s-TZSeWs4YizcVmeoqeqNbGcfEjaQywc1fRsjqIsiMjRbkVnqpb4E9cMCvDF2mzgY_0J3rJr1l4iONiX08ydk_DqWrYlKnRa36/s1600-h/little+boy+drinking.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 203px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420433889120905986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMhYkaCzs4ttSjHEivIj3rA4PXwkFJAFcjWv3_Ubehm1s-TZSeWs4YizcVmeoqeqNbGcfEjaQywc1fRsjqIsiMjRbkVnqpb4E9cMCvDF2mzgY_0J3rJr1l4iONiX08ydk_DqWrYlKnRa36/s320/little+boy+drinking.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I have many ambitions. Some of them are silly - like my endless and impossible quest for a perfect butt. Some are improbable - like my deep and elusive desire to be a professional writer. But behind most of them is the underlying wish that my life have a purpose, that it make the world better somehow (the "perfect butt" quest does not qualify). </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Up to now, my athletic pursuits have been for the singular purpose of enriching my own life - and, really, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. A stronger, fitter person is better in every other aspect of their lives and that, in itself, accomplishes a "higher purpose." But, now, I find I want my sweat to mean more than that. It began with Team Phoenix - an endeavor I hope I inspired but one that does better without me in the picture. I know that's vague, I'll get into the details another day. Suffice it to say that I was not the best Beast for the job. Now, I feel pulled to train for the marathon and I want that to have meaning too. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Last month, Hubby and I watched CNN Heroes and were struck by Doc Hendley, founder of <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Wine to Water</a>, and his passion for what he was doing. Neither of us were aware that the "water problem" was this urgent or this far reaching: 1 billion people do not have access to clean water. 5 million die every year because of it. Lack of water kills more children that HIV/AIDS, war, you name it. Every 15 seconds a child dies from thirst or from water-related illness. The numbers are so astronomical your brain wants to reject them. But you cannot allow yourself to go numb because, both best and worst of all, this problem can be solved. Wells and water filters. Simple. Not even very costly. One organization suggests that 10 billion dollars would solve the world's water crises. That seems like a lot until you consider the cost of the Wall Street Bailout. Or how much Americans spend on Christmas, reportedly 45 billion dollars, every year. My goal here is not to induce guilt but to incite action. $500.00 drills a well. $100.00 provides a long lasting bio filter. These are numbers we can handle, if not individually, certainly collectively. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, I'm running for water. If you're out there and so inclined, you can donate by clicking on the icon in my sidebar or by going directly to <a href="http://www.winetowater.org/">Wine to Water</a>. If you do go there to donate, I would appreciate it if you let me know what you gave so that I can add it to my tally. My goal is to raise $5,000.00 - 100 wells or 500 filters. That's a lot of thirsty people saved. Whatever you can manage is appreciated - if you've only got a buck, know that it all adds up. If you can't spare anything, I would be grateful if you'd pass the message along. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Or . . . if you're so inspired that you want to do something too - join me! Create a page of your own (click on the "My Fundraising Page" icon in the sidebar, Firstgiving walks you through the process and it costs you nothing and takes very little time) and raise some funds with your next event. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>No matter what you do, please keep these people in your prayers. If enough of us step up, they will know they haven't been forgotten.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-63300674831843629662009-12-24T08:29:00.004-06:002009-12-24T09:23:31.177-06:00Now I've Gone and Did ItWell. I'm officially registered for the <a href="http://www.gostlouis.org/">Go! St. Louis Marathon.</a> I'm excited. Its exciting. I'm really, really, pumped and excited.<br /><br />Okay, I'm terrified. Petrified. Holy sh!t, I've gone and did it. I'm in for an a$$ whoopin' for sure. I'm seriously going to attempt to run a distance that up and killed the first guy who tried it. Very frickin' smart. <br /><br />Oh well. No going back now. I can always switch to the half if my training proves grossly inadequate. I've got a feeling though. Under the terror. Its a good one. The beast is growling - in a happy way. She wants to come out and play. <br /><br />She's been a happy beastie the last couple of weeks. My runs up to now have been the slow, plodding, base building variety. Not enough to bring Phoenix out of hibernation. She might have opened an eye to look around, groggily mumbling, "Whaa.... we running? mmmm, no. Not really. Night." She made one appearance during a pitiful little 5k I ran a month or so ago. I was pushing it as hard as I could on the last mile and sure I couldn't hold on. In my mind, I searched for the beast... "You there, beastie?" "yeah. i'm here." "I don't think I can do this. I'm too out of shape. I'm going to slow down." "no. hold on. you can do this. look, you're almost there." "Okay." .... "You still there?" "i'm here. hold on." "Okay". On and on for a mile. It sucked to be moving so slow and huffing and puffing like I was hauling it. But I did hang on. So it was good.<br /><br />Last Sunday though, my long run. That rocked. I went to Phoenix's old hunting ground to do an hour. As soon as I found myself on that trail, I had to start pulling on the bit to keep myself from taking off. After ten minutes warm up, I let it loose - trying to keep my heart rate in a somewhat reasonable range - and, friends, it felt fine. Not fine as in "no, really, I'm fine" but fine as in "that dude is FINE". It was FINE. I actually felt like I was moving. My legs had that old sproingy feeling. Beastie was out and awake and loving it. Every turn and hill of the trail felt like home. <br /><br />It used to take me 45 min. to complete a loop of the trail at my long run pace. I figured it would take me at least the whole hour to get through it this time. I made it in 50 min. So, five min. slower - but, seriously, that's not bad for two years away. As I rounded the turn for the last mile, my legs were getting that "long run" feeling and I knew I'd be stopping for ice on the way home. Ice baths in winter suck. But it helped, so what am I complaining for.<br /><br />My Tues. tempo run was more of the same, Beastie growling happily, me feeling like my old self. Its good to be on the way back. <br /><br />Next post: Running for Water. Stay tuned.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-24823689874679030352009-12-17T19:49:00.002-06:002009-12-17T19:58:10.290-06:00Oh Yeah. Then, there's these guys.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ5Mi_ghpkksqpP8Dxi22jzHo1rPK7iMeYr93OtYh-qEOMpH_x9v3MM1_M0o8LMJV4zHxE6_bDq-uQ2EhMxKP2bmcfyTicNehdiY5b-AhwJA_LrKeSBK75-W-WZSEss5sZenCKXL7I_aj/s1600-h/100_3076.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416388845403653586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZ5Mi_ghpkksqpP8Dxi22jzHo1rPK7iMeYr93OtYh-qEOMpH_x9v3MM1_M0o8LMJV4zHxE6_bDq-uQ2EhMxKP2bmcfyTicNehdiY5b-AhwJA_LrKeSBK75-W-WZSEss5sZenCKXL7I_aj/s320/100_3076.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbwhW5W0tSvfub382oSycgZJ5i8DVwAyETjoUb4aZw1ZerczOQCK0VV2X9VBrIOVZ8Ii-fV9emSmpoVm9I597SrO6cENil0piEG7sMSoEltlXxQqkDbAcT4Nm67T0dtCteyC8eMs4ZrWN/s1600-h/100_3089.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416388838114930946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbwhW5W0tSvfub382oSycgZJ5i8DVwAyETjoUb4aZw1ZerczOQCK0VV2X9VBrIOVZ8Ii-fV9emSmpoVm9I597SrO6cENil0piEG7sMSoEltlXxQqkDbAcT4Nm67T0dtCteyC8eMs4ZrWN/s320/100_3089.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p4ys4ljMro_aDXpYyASTYkGXvgjuUoe3-LbeioQpqOWHtysQpiEvdw-IOBg47_RU5VKrrEzvEKPbHVZdOYjZ-nPYumdBdwgPerGOAprfzvXO_DNBw3shs4XOCe0csawKeN_XIz_JXYnU/s1600-h/100_3049.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416388829188727202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p4ys4ljMro_aDXpYyASTYkGXvgjuUoe3-LbeioQpqOWHtysQpiEvdw-IOBg47_RU5VKrrEzvEKPbHVZdOYjZ-nPYumdBdwgPerGOAprfzvXO_DNBw3shs4XOCe0csawKeN_XIz_JXYnU/s320/100_3049.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJXFMHVttrzwy7PF2bCPGIUzluXrvSav4mRp-DAeGEr2HIF7tNBJn_3x4d3wPZd9MCKDY2MJqJJDc4swuYq5HTAnZap8TScP9JFjgZD-V7BuFqK4S5WTtsG94jv3lpT2oL5oa7Em2mLh3/s1600-h/100_3133.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416388824398137378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJXFMHVttrzwy7PF2bCPGIUzluXrvSav4mRp-DAeGEr2HIF7tNBJn_3x4d3wPZd9MCKDY2MJqJJDc4swuYq5HTAnZap8TScP9JFjgZD-V7BuFqK4S5WTtsG94jv3lpT2oL5oa7Em2mLh3/s320/100_3133.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-48763302057998558402009-12-17T17:02:00.002-06:002009-12-17T17:33:07.700-06:00The Marathon ExperimentWhew. Time to clear some cobwebs and do some writing, people. All my people. Well, me. And Hubby. And the robot spammers. <br /><br />Its been a rough 18 mos as far as training goes. Twenty-five extra pounds that have been slooooowwwww in getting the hell out of dodge (10 lbs to go, as of this writing. come ON already.) Two stress fractures (one in the knee last March and one in my foot this summer). The swine flu. Countless nights of interrupted sleep. A thousand other excuses/good-enough-reasons. I worked it in where I could, whined a lot. Cried some. But, mostly. . . mostly, I've been enjoying life. Noah is a joy. Devin is a miracle of a big brother. Hubby is The Best Daddy Ever. Even when Noah runs to me as soon as Hubby comes home because he just loves Mommy best right now. Its all about the boobs and there's nothing Hubby can do about it. Still, he hangs in there and shows his patient love. The tables will turn before we know it, of this I'm sure.<br /><br />Now, finally. Finally, finally, FINALLY - Noah is sleeping through the night. Through the night. THROUGH it. As in down at 8:30pm up at 6:45am. If you don't have children, you cannot appreciate the utter miracle that entails. And this means that I am sleeping through the night. Which further, and most importantly, means that it is no longer impossible to get out of bed at 4:30 am and . . . TRAIN. Yes, yes, yes . . . TRAIN, my people (me, hubby and robot spammers, but hey, they're my people and I love them). It some slow, silly, painfully non-athletic training just now. But it is what it is. Its running and swimming and spinning. I LOVE IT!!!<br /><br />So, what have I done, one might ask (if one were a robot spammer or my husband - I don't ask, I just do)? I have, of course, gone and made a rash and bold and probably exceedingly stupid decision to train for The Big One. That Big Thing that I was supposed to be in training for when my little surprise came along and shook things up a little (a lot) - because life, people, is what happens when you're busy making other plans. At least that's what Lennon said. So, yeah. I'm going to try to run the St. Louis Marathon. I say "try" with all deliberateness because, though I have four and half (five if you count the two weeks I'm into it already) months to train, I'm really behind. My mileage is laughable and my speed - well, lets just say that there are some walkers that would absolutely smear me if I went out at my current "speed". <br /><br />I'm going to try. Experiment, if you will. I've developed a plan that's a sort of hybrid of a plan I found based on time rather than mileage (for beginning marathoners - me) and the FIRST training plan that suggests running only three days a week with cross training on at least two other days. I like the FIRST method because it allows me to at least maintain the fitness I've worked on in the pool and in spin class (I have yet to get on the bike - that's a post for another, later day) and also allows me to try to avoid the dreaded stress fracture thingamabob that's cost me so much time this last year. I'm doing a tempo run, a speed workout and a long run (on dirt) every week with at least one swim, one spin and Crossfit. <br /><br />So, we'll see. St. Louis allows me to switch to the half-marathon if I need to and I think that by March, I'll know if that is what needs to happen. In the meantime, I'm setting my sights on The Big One and waiting with baited breath to see if I can actually do it. I'm not sure if I can. That's what makes the Experiment interesting.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-50203883443792399642009-03-23T12:08:00.003-05:002009-03-23T12:23:28.256-05:00Stress. Fracture.WHAT?!?!?!<br /><br />So, my knee has been hurting for awhile. For the most part, I was able to ignore it and just get on with it but it started getting worse so I heeded Hubby's insistence and went to see the Doc. <br /><br />After describing my irritation (I refused to call it "pain" at that point), Doc uttered some scary stuff about it sounding like a torn meniscus and words like "surgery" "6-12 week recovery" and so on and so forth and then she ordered an MRI. The good news was, my meniscus looks great! The not so good is that my femur and tibia don't look so good. Its a stress fracture. Shucky darn.<br /><br />On to the Orthopedist who gave me a hefty brace that makes me look like a cyborg and sentenced me to a month on the couch - interspersed with time in the pool and on the bike - no hills, no running, no walking. The June race is right out. I'm trying to be hopeful that I'll be able to get my run on in time for the Ballwin Tri - that's the race I did as my initiation into triathlon and it would be kind of poetic to make it my first race back. <br /><br />In the meantime, my knee is broke. I swear it hurts more since they told me it was a fracture. Every time it twinges, I imagine my poor bones, grinding together, splintering. Not a very helpful visualization, I'm sure. <br /><br />Feeling sorry for myself seems to be what I'm best at just now. Ah,well.<br /><br />To celebrate, I spent some time in the pool this morning doing Tabata intervals. The pool feels good. No pain, no limp. I guess I'll get my swim on but good in the next few weeks. Wish me luck.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-29623433439802269622009-03-06T08:41:00.002-06:002009-03-06T08:54:09.831-06:00Tiny MiraclesIf any of you from my "past life" (i.e. Before Noah) are still out there, you may remember my <a href="http://phoenixtrialbyfire.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-have-this-idea.html">Idea</a>, namely a team to train, empower, and raise money for survivors of domestic violence. Its never left me.<br /><br />Ironically, when I started back to work at the children's theatre in October, another woman who used to act with me "back in the day" started back again as well. Her "day job" is as a counselor for a local organization that helps women extricate themselves and heal from violent relationships. I told her my idea and she liked it so much she told her supervisor. Her supervisor was enthusiastic about the possibilities and sent me her contact information. I have a meeting with her at the end of this month.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tri</span>-Hubby is in telecommunications sales and met a woman across the river in Illinois who runs a similar organization. He told her about my idea. She was also intrigued and I have her contact info - I'm waiting until TH gets back to her about her telecommunications before I call her - I don't want my call to remind her that TH hasn't called her back yet ;)<br /><br />How strange that two years after this Idea "came to me", the Universe seems to be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">aligning</span> to make it happen.<br /><br />In the meantime, I am still fighting the good fight and trying to get back in shape. I'm swimming, spinning, running, doing Yoga and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Crossfit</span>. It feels awesome! The June <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">tri</span> looms in the near future but I'm confident I can do it. <br /><br />Its all good, friends, its all very very good.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636567097339297046.post-695821259743029232009-02-08T21:10:00.001-06:002009-02-08T21:10:49.693-06:00In Case You Didn't Know . . .FORD IRONMAN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP LOTTERY INFORMATION:<br /><br />The 2009 Ironman Lottery Program officially opened Wednesday, October 1 at 12:00 p.m. EST. Athletes interested in earning a slot through the Ironman Lottery must apply by Saturday, February 28, 2009, with all winning entries being announced on Wednesday, April 15, 2009.<br /><br />A vision of Ironman founder, John Collins, the Ironman Lottery began in 1983 as a way to provide athletes of all abilities the opportunity to qualify for the world’s most challenging endurance event. The Ironman Lottery awards 150 domestic, 50 international and 5 physically challenged slots that are chosen randomly from more than 7,000 lottery entries. <br /> Athletes who are part of Ironman’s Passport Club receive member benefits such as an increased chance to win a lottery slot. The club, beginning domestically in 1990, is now open to athletes from around the globe.<br /> Participants gain entry into the Ford Ironman World Championship one of three ways: by qualifying for a slot at one of more than twenty events held worldwide, by winning a slot through Ironman’s charitable eBay Auction or by being selected in the Ironman Lottery. Recognized as one of the most in-demand athletic events in the world, nearly 60,000 athletes vie for one of 1,800 coveted slots to the Ford Ironman World Championship, taking place in Kailua-Kona , Hawaii , each year.<br />For more information visit <a title="http://ironman.com/faq/lotteryfaq" href="http://ironman.com/faq/lotteryfaq" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">www.ironman.com/faq/lotteryfaq</a> or the <a title="http://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=" href="http://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1608973" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">Lottery Registration page</a><br /><br />All athlete-related inquiries can be directed to <a title="mailto:Lottery@ironman.com blocked::mailto:Lottery@ironman.com" href="mailto:Lottery@ironman.com" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" ymailto="mailto:Lottery@ironman.com">Lottery@ironman.com</a>. <br /><br />U.S. APPLICANTS<br />There will be 150 lottery slots available to the U.S. applicants. ONLY U.S. CITIZENS MAY APPLY. 100 names will be drawn from the Passport Club. 50 names will be drawn from the U.S applicants and any unselected Passport Club members. Lottery selections will be available on April 15, 2009 at 12:00pm EST on <a href="http://ironman.com/" target="_blank">Ironman.com</a>.<br /><br />INTERNATIONAL ATHLETES<br />There are 50 lottery slots available to International applicants. CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES WILL NOT BE ENTERED. 25 names will be drawn from the Passport Club. 25 names will be drawn from the International Applicants and any unselected Passport Club members. Lottery selections will be available on April 15, 2009 at 12:00pm EST on Ironman.com.<br /><br />US/INTERNATIONAL SELECTED ATHLETES<br />Athletes who are SELECTED through the Ironman Lottery must have completed an Ironman 70.3 or other long-distance event (1.2 Mile, 56 Mile + 13.1 Mile) or longer within one year of the 2009 Ford Ironman World Championship to validate his/her lottery slot. Lottery winners must complete a validating race before August 31, 2009 and all validating information should be E-mailed to Lottery@ironman.com by August 31, 2009. Failure to comply will result in forfeiture of the lottery slot.<br /><br />PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED LOTTERY APPLICANTS<br />Five names will be drawn for the 2009 Ford Ironman World Championship from the total applicants applying in the following Physically Challenged categories.<br />The following defines the physically challenged divisions for the 2009 Ford Ironman World Championship Lottery.<br /><br />DIVISIONSLower Extremity - This includes single below-the-knee amputees, in which a standard bicycle is used, and run with a prosthesis or crutches.<br />Wheelchair One - This division consists of single above-the-knee amputees who ride a standard bicycle, but use a racing chair on the run.<br />Wheelchair Two - This division consists of athletes who have double below-the-knee or a double above-the-knee amputation. These athletes ride a standard bicycle and use a racing chair on the run.<br />Upper Extremity - This is an athlete who has one arm amputated above or below the elbow, in which they will use a prosthesis on the bike.<br />Blind - This is for athletes who are legally blind, 20/200 with best corrected vision, requiring a handler throughout the race. They will use a tandem bike and will be tethered during the swim and the run.<br /><br />Athletes are required to submit:<br />• Medical description of physical disability from primary care physician.<br />• A letter from his/her physician validating athlete’s fitness and ability to meet the physical demands of an Ironman event.<br />Upon review of information received all eligible athletes will be registered for the physically challenged lottery. Any application received with incomplete information will not be processed for the lottery draw. Any decision on whether or not an athlete meets the criteria for a specific division is at WTC’s sole discretion. All athletes chosen will need to complete an event that is 70.3 (1.2 mile, 56 mile, 13.1 mile) distance or greater within one year of the 2009 Ford Ironman World Championship.<br />For more information please E-mail Lottery@ironman.com<br /><br />HAND CYCLE DIVISION ATHLETES<br />Physically challenged athletes who are paraplegic, quadriplegic or double above-the-knee amputees, and race using a handcranked cycle on the bike segment, and a racing chair for the run segment, will be able to compete for two male slots and one female slot at the Ironman 70.3 Buffalo Springs Lake and two male slots and one female slot at Ironman 70.3 Antwerp. These slot winners will then compete in the 2009 Ford Ironman World Championship on October 10. Please contact Ironman at (727) 942-4767 or E-mail Lottery@ironman.com, for further information.Larissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00058994751103189361noreply@blogger.com1