Thank You

I am going to caveat this message with a few warnings:  This may be long…this may ramble and this may more than likely make me cry.  This is my official thank you.  I have so many things to write so many words to put onto this paper and so many emotions to express.  To start this composition is quite daunting, more daunting than starting the race, simply because I will be trying to accurately express every bit of gratitude without omission…yet fully aware that I will never be able to get it all out…not in a way that people will know exactly how much they mean to me.

This will be out of order and more than likely meander through tangents.  Most may feel it inapplicable but try to stay with me.   For those of you mentioned know that this does not scratch the surface for those of you not mentioned your impact has not been any less appreciated.

 I started this on June 8^th, 2011, 16 days before the race.  I knew I would have to start it early because of the amount personal gravity it holds.   By the end of this I will have read, re-read, re-written, added, deleted and edited this letter about 100 times.  Every time it will mean just as much to me.

Daddy,

 I don’t know why you did everything that you did for us.  I didn’t have to ask I didn’t have to beg or convince or plead a case, all I had to do was post a status update in face book about needing a drill and the next day you sent us messages telling us they were added to the pile.  I don’t know why you blindly supported yet another one of your youngest daughter’s ridiculous ideas.  I am beginning to believe, by your unwavering support, that I get these haphazard tendencies from you.  The wild burr up my ass to do something huge and unrealistic most likely comes from the fact that I am your daughter…your baby girl.  You never asked “why?” you never told me “no you can’t do that…it’s not a good idea” you just said “OK what do you need”.   I know you think you weren’t there for me for a lot of my life.  I know you think you missed all of the important parts of growing up Katya, but you didn’t you were there for the things that mattered and your still here for the things that mean the most to me.  I will always be your baby and you will always be my daddy.  I love you dadoo thank you.

Sarah,

You are my best friend and my biggest fan.  Ours is the only bridge you have ever re-built.   The things we have been through together…my God.  We have been through fat and skinny, married and divorced, the dumped and the new loves, Manolo Blahniks and Christian Louboutins.  Crossed borders, fallen on trails, inside jokes and pseudo families.  We’ve been to war together.  You gave me my God son.  You know me inside and out.  You know all about all of my crazy you are the person to whom I tell everything.  You keep me grounded and you enable my addictions.  You see the best parts of me and see the things I can’t see myself.  You have done this for years without falter or fail without question without doubt.  Hell…you’ve done it without every actually talking to me.  I don’t know why you picked me but I’m sure glad you did.  You have been the crutch I’ve needed to lean on the voice of reason and the spiraling lunatic.  You are me and well shit I love me so…Thank you for being my best friend and one of the loves of my life.

Alissa,

Do you even have any idea how amazing you are? You walk around through your daily life as a silent giant.  You are already all of the things that you aspire to be and you are only 16 years old.  You think you look up to me but I am here to tell you my dear it is quite the opposite.  You are the person I want to be when I grow up.  You make me want to be a better person.  You make me want to do good at all times.  You make me feel accountable for my actions and you make me proud of both myself and more so of you.  You make me who I am and you do it completely unaware of yourself.  I love you mini me.  You are the best part of all of us and I’m thankful to be the smallest part of who you are.

Deb & Frank,

 I have NO idea why you let your kids hang out with me…I mean really have you seen me drive? Your family is the stuff that books are written about.  The cracks and flaws are hidden in the shadows of the internal support and love that you all can’t help but exude.  I don’t know why you picked me either…maybe you and Sarah should sit down and figure that out someday.  The things you have done for me have been so far above and so far beyond anything that people should do for another person to whom they have no ties…I don’t deserve how good you are to me.  There is nothing exceptional about teaching you how to do a hang clean but there are endless numbers of accolades I could sing about the dozens upon dozens of selfless things you have done for me.  Coming to pick up my trash when it is piled half way up my barn, taking me in on thanksgiving, driving me home when I realize how stupid it was to ride my bike all the way to your house, standing up for me when no one else wanted to, letting me cry, listening to me yell, lending me your children for manual labor and dog sitting, allowing me to be a part of your family.  I love every single one of you Deb, Frank, Alissa, Joe, Zac, Minnet and Ken. 

Carrie,

OOOOH guuuurl what have you gotten yourself into.  I am not sure if you know this or not but I get attached to people.  The people that I choose to force kicking and screaming into my life I choose because they are the people I can most learn from and be influenced by in a positive manor.  You unfortunately are one for those people.  Sorry you’re stuck with me.  I knew it from the second you messaged me and from the first time I talked to you on the phone.  You’re quite the accomplished individual and you can see it in the faces of your daughters.  You have no limits and you’re a force of nature stuck in a body built to move mountains.  A greater haphazard friend I couldn’t ask for and you are in my heart girl whether you like it or not. Love you.

The Vessel,

I won’t speak to this one directly, but I felt the need to thank him.  I thank him for teaching me how to appreciate great people.  I thank him for teaching me to recognize validity in human hearts.  I thank him for showing me the things that I do want and bringing to the surface the things that I do not.  I thank him for being the vessel that brought her to me.

Loo,

Where on earth do I start Loo? Our friendship has been quite a journey…a journey that was birthed out of pain…a journey that was birthed out of darkness.  We were by definition nemeses.   We had NO reason to befriend each other.  You had NO reason to create a relationship of ANY kind with me.  I represented something in your life that hurt you, something that walled you up, something that tried to break you.  I was a constant reminder of things you wanted to forget.  We were thrown together by the will of fate.  Our first meeting was a blur.  I hated that I liked you.  I said to you once that once we were both healed then we would be kindred.  That happened a long long time ago.  You put yourself right in the middle of an emotional fire for a stranger.  You talked me through a tough part of my life for NO other reason than you ARE in fact the giving tree.  You saw a person sinking...a stranger and you jumped into quicksand to help pull them out.  You are selfless you are beautiful you are strong and powerful beyond measure.  You are honest you are a force to be reckoned with and I gladly stand beside you and call you my beloved friend…my fellow Glamazon.  I would warn whomever you need to warn mama because I have this sneaking suspicion we are just getting started.

I could literally write and write until you have all been so exasperated and I have repeated myself so many times that nothing I say has any meaning.  There are so many more people could write about.  SO many more people who deserve words…I’m not winning any great award I just feel grateful for everything I have seen…all of the good in all of the people that I know.   Karen H. You don’t even know me and look how much you have done for me! Karen M. girl you have NO idea what it means to me to have your constant support.  I miss seeing you every day and I’m more than glad we happened to start talking about Tosca Reno that morning in the break room! My mom who probably thinks this was one of the more pointless things I have decided to take on but who by now has learned to silently sigh and let me do what I want.  She knows I get my stubborn from her…and yes for all of you who have been wondering…oh she WAY worse than me.  Tenacity from my dad stubborn from my mom…good mix huh? Anyways…told you I would digress.

Thank you everyone for everything. 

Short...Sweet...SWEEEEEEEEEET

It is DEFIANTELY Monday…the race is DEFINITELY on Friday…Loo DEFINITELY gets here THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW! I have been practicing my squeal and hug techniques.  People are going to be annoyed in the airport but we are bigger than like everyone so I have an INKLING they won’t do JACK about it.  I’m so stoked…I am not sure how to explain it really.  Not nervous not scared just ready I guess … as ready as I can be for not really knowing what I’m getting into! I know its short and sweet but I have a TON of work to do since I’m taking so much time off and I had final last week so I have been all over the place.  We will do a joint blog when we are co-located and possibly upload pictures of us packing and getting ready! I really can’t wait it’s gonna be epic!

Our Abridged Story

Upon the threats of my God sons mother…and let me know if this is fair... always seems to use my God son as ammo when she wants or DOESN’T want me to do something, date someone, go somewhere…though…I guess for the record I should say she is almost always right and I PROBABLY should let her run my life or at least listen to her more.  Anyways she requested we blog more.  I KNOW it’s been a minute or two sine we have written anything but I have to tell you man…its getting down to the wire over here!  Loo will be flying into the Reagan National Airport in Washington D.C. 8 DAYS!!!!!! EIGHT DAYS!!!! (You can’t capitalize numbers so you have to write them out to convey extreme emotion).  I have to tell you i am SUPER excited! I am PRETTY sure I remember what her voice sounds like but again…there was tequila involved the second time I talked to her and the first I was trying not to throw up all over brand new Lululemon stuff I had yet to purchase.  I will DEF recognize my fellow Glamazon in arms when she walked through the gates at the airport mostly because she will be taller than everyone else! For the first time in my life I am going to be on a team where everyone will refer to me as “the short one”!

So this weekend was LONG.  Those of you who have been on my FB know that I participated in the Fredericksburg R.A.T. race this Saturday. This was comprised of 4 miles in a canoe (which I have never done) 10 miles on my mountain bike (which we all know I am SUPER awesome at riding) and a 5.2 mile trail run.  IT WAS HARD! Canoeing is way harder than Daniel Day Lewis made it look in Last of the Mohicans.  I managed to run DIRECTLY into what can only be described as a tribute to Plymouth Rock and greatly injure the shins of my partner.  The bike was better than I have done but it took us QUITE some time to make it the whole ride and I look like I have been karate kicking boulders.  I am about 1 day away from saying eff it and getting spray tanned these legs are a MESS. By the time it was time to run it was about 85% humidity and 90 degrees out so needless to say but I will say it anyways…man…IT WAD HARD.  LITERALLY the only thing that got me through the run was knowing that at that exact moment on the other side of the country Loo was doing lateral burpees over a man made life sized cross.  I purposely stayed 50 yards behind Zeal so that he couldn’t hear me groaning “why won’t this just end” I was a BRAT! But after the race I gathered at the barn with a few friends and we drank margaritas out of hub caps and played catch phrase until we could no longer understand the ramblings of the drunk NC born man trying to describe accurately so we would guess “Renee Zelwigger” (sp) he was NOT successful.  It was a great weekend topped off by a Sunday trip to REI for Loo and my food for the race and some Lululemon for me for being so very very good that weekend!

Ready to get mushy??? I wanted to finally tell you all the story of “us” not the whole story but the abridged version (you we are going to make you all buy the book).  This is actually just the letter I was going to send to CF journal for publication but we never got a response for it so I figured let’s not let it go to waste.

“What we do in life echoes in eternity” This quote resonates more than simply the expert script writing and convincing delivery of Hollywood.  You will remember the greatest parts of your life and it is your choice whether those bullets are positive or negative.  This story illustrates just that idea.  You can choose to allow dark moments to dictate who you are or you can choose through discomfort to turn from the dark into the light. 

There are moments, songs, smells, snapshots and people that will paint the portraits of an individual’s integrity, demeanor and exuberant presence.  Two people have accidentally become each other’s catalyst for incomparable personal growth.  The path we have forged was blazed with fire and passion.  We ignited a massive emotional explosion and in its wake, littered behind us were all of the scarred wounds, self doubt, hung heads, weakness and pity we ever had for ourselves.  We have replaced every single one of those things with tenacity, strength, power and a kindred friendship. 

The basis of our friendship is not by ANY means normal in accordance to social standards.  We were, for lack of a better word, nemeses from our very first accidental yet fated encounter.   We inherently blamed on another for the misguided actions of another and yes if you are intuitive enough you will quickly figure out that we were set at each other’s throats at the hands of a man who did not know how to properly handle either of us.  Having your cake and eating it to, does not bode well in the world of a Glamazon.  His role in our creation is miniscule he was merely a vessel nothing more, so to get into any specifics of the situation would be both invalid and moot.  There are a select few privy to the knowledge and full back story, however, no one more so than the two of us and for the moment we will keep it that way.  Because of his callousness we have found in the world and in one another, appropriately on the opposite sides of the country, a true ally in arms.

In the beginning we would spiral.  Going on and on about things that no longer mattered, things that couldn’t be changed, things from which we needed to learn.  After we had the hours of dredging through emotions and anger and all the hurt we made a pact.  We would not let the insecure actions of a misguided person mandate our relationship.  In order to keep our sanity we focused on dial in motivation to push through tough workouts.  We found ourselves feeding off the strengths of one another to push our physical accomplishments.  We found ourselves getting to know each other.  We would submit daily text messages with the brutal punishment we had put ourselves through and describe eloquently how much we loved the pain.  It was healing for us.  It was commiseration in something other than the obvious. 

Every day we tested our mental toughness, looked for our threshold/work capacity, and pushed our limits to new levels.   All of these are based firmly on the backs of strength, stamina, endurance, mental toughness.

This went on for several weeks.  It was our therapy.  We looked forward to the daily challenges set out by each other.  It only seemed fitting that we continue to push ourselves past what we knew we could accomplish.  Strangely there was no competition between us.  We didn’t try to overrun or impress, out do or dominate each other…everyone else …yes…each other no.  It was a life line and the purest form of motivation.  It made us wonder what else we could do made us wonder where our breaking point was.  We found our next hurdle to overcome.  We mended hearts broke bodies and now wanted to face death.  The Peak Death Race was the closest thing we could find and Loo was the first person I thought to ask and she accepted BLINDLY.

We can’t train specifically for what is ahead of us we can only hope that our bodies and physical capabilities are well rounded enough to be ready for anything. Hike, climb, move heavy objects, carry gear on back, test intelligence, agility skills.  We don’t get a gear list until the last minute…any clue to what will be thrown at us will give us an advantage in training.  We must have endurance, yet be quick. Will require us to think and strategize. When to push fast, when to pace ourselves, knowing to gain ground in our "wheelhouse", how to battle through our weak skills.  We cannot be defined by our limitations.

Hello? Are you alive?

Yes, I am still alive. I am a horrible blogger, we all know this by now. I am still training. I am getting excited. I am scrambling, my mind is racing all the time, I can hardly sleep at night. I have gone so far as to sleep in my contacts a few nights to struggle with tired eyes. Katy and I cannot believe the race is almost here and we get to see each other in a few weeks. We celebrated our 1 year anniversary of "the blur" last week. Presents to be exchanged when I see her.....and tattoos will be in our future.

I conquered the Tough Mudder race a few weekends ago, which gave me a little boost in confidence about my athletic ability. All my hiking has really paid off, I was flying up the mountain and obstacles weren't too bad for me. But I do have to say that I was left badly bruised, felt like someone used a brillo pad to loofa my body and have scrapes that would lead you to believe I let a cat use me as a scratching post. Great learnings for what to wear for the Death Race.

I am looking forward to meeting up with a few of my fellow Death Racers this weekend to do a "Mini Death Race" that was designed by a few of their friends. Call it a dry run for what we are up against in a few weeks. We have a gear list of what we will need to bring and will find out late Friday night as to where and when our event will take place. They did a mock race a few weeks ago that began at 4:30am Saturday, covered 50 miles in 14 hours, required biking, swimming, hiking, and nonsense that attracted the police to question their sanity....Oh boy. I can't wait!

Okay, this is a lame short post. I know. But at least it is a post!

Delusional

BAHAHAHAHAHA...ridiculous...so amidst the training for the Death Race which is a mere 17 days away, I also am KIND of training for the R.A.T. race next Saturday ( I say kind of because I can't really get out and learn how to kayak in 6 days).  It is a multi sport race 10 miles of mountain biking, 4 miles of kayaking and 5 miles of trail running.  SO since that race is this Saturday I figured I should get fairly (as much as I can again in 6 days) comfortable on my bike.

 So here is another bad habit of mine.  I am a LITTLE delusional when it comes to my physical abilities.  I remember vividly the first time this trait reared its ugly head.   I was in 7th grade.  I went skiing with my best friend at the time Virginia Jarvis.  I had been skiing once before that I think when I was 7 and I'm SURE I didn't actually ski.  So Virginia and I ventured over to the bunny slope an went down twice.  After my second run down the basically flat snow surface I decided OBVIOUSLY I was good enough to do a black diamond. I mean...I didn't fall, I could stop, I didn't run into anyone...I was good.  Onto the lift I went and up up over up up up .  I got to the top of the slope and thought to myself  "self...this is going to be bad" but I was up there so...never mind I couldn't see the slop below me due to the angle of decent.  I went for it how else was I supposed to get down.  I got MAYBE 20 and no longer had either of my skis and only one pole was still in my hand.  True to form though I made it down mostly on my ass partly on my two feet...delusional. 

SO my point (yes there was one) seeing as I had ridden my bike in my neighborhood along the very wide gravel hills and also maneuvered successfully through pedestrian traffic in D.C. OVBIOUSLY I was ready for 10 mile on the trail of Lodi Farm.  More than likely none of you know what Lodi is.  Its and ACTUAL mountain bike trail...where ACTUAL mountain bikers go to ride their bikes.  That means its technical, slippery, steep, rooty, logy and NARROW.  Let us not mention (OK we will) that we took a wrong turn and ended up on the 10 mile route instead of the 5.  We will also pretend not to mention that I was a BRAT!! I do not fare well doing things I'm not good at doing so there was a lot of "GOD BLESS AMERICA"'s getting yelled.  I fell about 70 times and one of these probably the BEST fall...well hmmm I went over the handle bars going downhill BEFORE I knew you are supposed to get up off the saddle and sit back and lean forward (people like to tell me things after the fact)...but I think better than that was riding over a rail bridge and it turned slightly but I decided it was a better idea to stay straight and go front wheel first into the creek bank.  It was EPIC.  Out of a movie or comedy.  My wheel his the bank and bounced back but I kept going forward.  Needless to say I was laughed at a LOT today. 

 I know that this is supposed to be talking all about the DR training so i will throw in here at the end I that I went and got Loo and I the 10 ft of climbing rope we are required to have (static, dynamic who effing knows I closed my eyes and pointed) and some enduromax at the recommendation of a Ms Carrie Adams runner and DR crew-er extraordinaire. 

I'mma Show YOU how great I am!!!

My new favorite color is dirty.  I am constantly dirty these days and it’s become comforting.  Luckily my mom doesn’t read this blog otherwise I’m sure she’d be calling me to tell me I’m making it look like I was raised by wolves or marmots or something…but I wasn’t,  mom did a grand job…and she will tell you before anyone else I’m a “daddy’s girl” so she can’t be blamed for anything I do.  ANYWAYS…I’m dirty.  There is this constant weird black stuff under my nails.  I assume it’s from sand or logs or hell maybe it’s just from making breakfast I don’t know. 

Yesterday I was forced against my will to climb for 30 minutes with my 50# pack.  I so very much did not feel like it at all and in my head I was whining the whole time.  Luckily I can put on a good front.  My partner in crime at one point (he did it for an hour because he’s ridiculous) looked over at me and asked how I felt.  My response was “Oh I feel good my abductors are a little sore but I’m good!” Yea OK..ya know what else I am? I’m a LIAR that’s what.  I was NOT good.  I was UN-happy about my current station in life.  My legs felt like cement jell-o…I don’t even know how that is possible.  They were super heavy but not even a little stable.  I couldn’t see because in VA right now it is ABOUT 754 degrees and 99% humidity (apparently the “VA is for lovers” slogan was adopted during that three days of spring that VA sees every year…good job way to think that through…I don’t know ANYONE who likes “loving” in this weather it’s too hot to be in close proximity to myself let alone anyone else) and my body refused to keep any water,  I so diligently spent all day ingesting, INSIDE my body…it just dumped it out all over my face and eye balls and somehow UP my nose.  I got done with that stupid idea…that’s right I said it was STUPID (I can do that because it wasn’t my idea) and went over to the man cave and did 5 rounds of 50x double unders, 25x evil wheels, 5 x135# hang cleans and 15 x chin ups.  What was funny about that was EVERYTHING.  I couldn’t string more than 10 double unders together to  save my life which to the dismay of those around me made for some colorful verbal exclamatories… and my hang cleans…oh brother my hang cleans they were soups ugly.  I think I only got under the bar for one set the rest were at the will of God and pure grit…Now I WRITE that I did 5 rounds but there are two people around here that know I only did 4 rounds so let me go ahead and be honest. 

By the end of that I was dirty.  Evil wheels require that you fully extend so that your stomach is on the floor and my new toothpaste colored power Y tank is now a lovely shade of gym floor dirt grey…this is my happy face.  I am aware that it always sounds like I’m complaining but I’m not I love it and by the time I get home, eat and shower and get my nightly pep talk I always feel great.  A little proud of whatever I accomplished that day a little scared about what I have to do the next but great…and I mean it this time.

WE LIKE BIKES!

So…I just want to say first of all thank you to everyone who has been supporting us through this process all of this time…and to let you know not to worry it’s almost over.  That being said let’s talk about me again.  As a few of you may know I am a little impulsive and pretty easily influenced when it comes to activities.  Go ahead and ask Carrie who has convinced me that my NEXT endeavor, post Spartan Death Race, is going to be the GORE-TEX Trans-Rockies 120 miler…yea go ahead and re-read that sentence…that’s what I wrote.  Don’t bother asking me why because you all know what the answer is going to be “Because someone asked me to”.  The FUNNY thing is that tactic ONLY works with physical stuff.  If you ask me to go to the post office and mail something or get my oil changed it will NEVER happen…I am not very consistent that’s for SURE…well not in aspect to aspect of my personality.  Each aspect is pretty consistent within its self.

 OH total side note (this is going to be fun and I am bringing it up because I just called and left a message at my parents house and this STILL upsets me).  For no ish 30 years (as long as I can remember) the voice mail message on my parents phone has been my mother’s voice saying “thank you for leaving a message at  410 272 1199” ALL of a sudden its now some automated chick bossing me around telling me what to do…30 YEARS AND NOW THEY CHANGE IT! Actually they changed it about 8 months or so ago but it still makes me mad face when I hear it. I DIGRESS!!!!

ANYWAYS…I bought a mountain bike this weekend on not a TOTAL whim but an at least semi-whim…like a whim that blew its load early in the day and couldn’t get it up for the afternoon romp.  There is a race June 11^th that involves bikes that AGAIN someone mentioned to me at the Maniac Mudder and sold me in about 45 seconds.  So I purchased a Trek Gary Fisher HiFi Plus 29-er…nope don’t know what any of those words mean all I know is its pretty!  So I realized many many things in the course of now owning this machine.  #1 I am not in the kind of shape I thought I was.  Riding a bike for sport is nothing NOTHING like riding your bike growing up.  It turns out riding your bike for sport is really REALLY hard.  #2 you need those padded shorts.  My lady parts are NOT happy with me.  They are NOT happy at all.  #3 the phrase “it's like riding a bike” applies ONLY to things that you have absolutely no idea how to do despite the fact at one point in your life you were able to do something that resembled them.  For example let’s say when you were 12 you liked to blow soap bubbles.  The phrase “Oh it’s like riding a bike” could be applied if 18 years later someone asked you to chemically engineer dish soap that could be used without water in zero gravity  conditions for NASA so that astronauts can have clean dishes and you stupidly have spent the last 18 years mastering the art of basket weaving instead of getting your doctorate in chemical engineering…in that case the  phrase is applicable because in a very long winded manner I am here to tell you kid bike riding is NOTHING like adult mountain bike riding.  The final thing that I learned this weekend is that I have a new love and it is in fact mountain bike riding. 

I spent all weekend on and off of (against my will and by the hands of gravity and poor balance) my new toy.  I took him to DC for Memorial Day and rode around the mall re-visiting the monuments and watching the DC Memorial Day parade.  Pat Sajak was there…it was a big deal.  Then I headed over to Arlington National Cemetery to pay my respects to section 60 and have myself a good emotional moment.  If you’ve never been…I pity you.  I don’t care where you live or what your views are…pay your respects.

Natural Born athlete

Listen…I am NOT a natural born athlete.  I am not one of those people to whom physicality comes naturally.  You can certainly ask anyone who has seen me do anything for the first time to verify that fact.  Ask ANYONE who has seen me on a step mill EVER. Not once have I step milled (yup it’s a verb) and NOT tripped or caught my big floppy toe.  Ask any of the people who have seen me run into any of the various obtrusive pieces of stationary globo gym equipment while just walking to the water fountain…like the BIG stuff the hammer strength stuff that doesn’t move.  Ask Jake or Alan, who witnessed me max out my vertical jump that one time, how un-graceful and un-poetic each attempt was.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I thought about it once, (I think…only once because I tend to ruminate a little SHOCKING) my short comings, and I felt that over thinking this one would more than likely force me into another genre of habitual past times like collecting beanie babies or something far more mundane and sedimentary and less well…dangerous…and I came to a clear realization.

I’m not a natural born athlete.  I was born to be heavy, I was born to be slow, I was born to procrastinate, and I was born to under achieve or get by on the bare minimum.  I know that.  I have been in my head and I have seen my own habits and bore witness to my own methods.  I am not a natural born athlete.  Everything I do is hard for me.  Every time I run I’m taxed.  Every time I swing a kettle-bell, power clean 155#, walk up walls, pull up, push down, jump over…it’s difficult and I want to stop.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I beat myself mentally before I start.  I think of ways to give up mid stride.  I don’t see progression.  I have to practice.  I have to fail…a LOT.  I have to do things over and over and over and over.  I have to drag myself sometimes…most times.  I get angry with myself multiple times in every workout.   I am not a natural born athlete.  I know I have limits I face them daily.  I know that when I get home today and strap on my pack that it’s going to hurt and its going to wear on me and I will struggle up hills and  over rocks.  I am not a natural born athlete.  I am not particularly good at anything but I do all of these things despite how familiar I am with just that fact.  I am not a natural born athlete, but I disregard that handicap I perform as best as I can…that’s, I guess, what makes me an athlete.

Another talent to add to my resume

I am pretty sure that if I treat this race like a day in the life of a nanny, I am going to be just fine.....Anyone ever take 3 kids under the age of 4 to Disneyland? Have to carry them everywhere? Squirming impatiently in line for rides while you struggle to keep them in your grips? Tired, cranky, thirsty, hungry, WHINY....psssh. Carrying a sandbag up and down hills is nothing. At least it won't talk back.

I discovered a new talent of mine today while walking with my little glamazon. I managed to hold her while wearing my 50# pack hovering to pee in a beachside restroom. AND I managed to get my lululemon tights on and off. Yep. That is a talent if I do say so.

I got a good walk in today, searched out all the hills (I swear it felt like I walked uphill the entire time) and guess I covered about 5 miles. I purposely did not bring myself water, even though it was rather hot and humid. Figured at some point during the race I will have to suffer for a while without water, so why not practice a bit? Well, I will admit that I drank my little glamazons water out of her sippy cup. Yep, nanny of the year nominee over here. She was just dumping it all over herself anyway. Hehe

It's Mental

I made an executive decision on Monday night that Tuesday had to be a yoga day. Crossfitting 5 days in a row and beating myself up all weekend hiking, running, what have you took a bit of a toll on my body. Joints are sore, muscles are tweaked. I made the mistake of glancing at our daily wod Tuesday.....10! Bear complex, pullups and situps. UGGGGGHHHH. Probably one of my favorite workouts ever. Yes, that is how sick I am. But I stuck to my guns, listened to my body and did bikram yoga.

Talk about a mental challenge. I have been quite absent from practicing yoga for the last few months (like 3 or more!) which is absolutely terrible. I used to practice about 3 days a week before joining crossfit. Well, let me tell you about demoralizing and how my body pretty much gave me the big FU during the hour and a half struggle. My yoga brain no longer exists. Poses I used to rock, no longer happened so easily. I was not accepting what my body could give that day. I was staring at everyone else trying to compete with them. Stillness between poses was very difficult, non existent at times.....at one point I totally felt like a crossfitter that was stripping her shirt off and trying to pace around my mat, like I would shake out my hands during a wod and pick up the heavy weight again to get a few more reps. But, through forcing myself to go back to yoga, I realized my weaknesses and how I have been neglecting my body in very important ways. Stretching is necessary after all the abuse I put myself through. So, I will be heading back to yoga at least once a week from now until Death Race day. Not only for the healing of my body, but of my mind too.

To quote my roomie, who is an amazing personal trainer, crossfit instructor and fitness model....."It takes BALLS to rest." God, I struggle to rest, but after my demoralizing yoga workout Tuesday and the fact that my body is SOORRREEE.....I took a complete rest day Wednesday. I feel refreshed, mentally and physically. I am looking forward to the Tough Mudder race this weekend with my friends. A 12 mile obstacle course race through the mountains of Snow Valley. I have been brainstorming with Katy about stuff we will need/want our support crew to have for us at the race. Any ideas you guys have for us would be awesome! I have gotten to know some of my fellow death racers (somewhat local) and have made plans to meet up for some excursions on the weekends. It's been so great to meet people, create friendships, talk about workouts, encourage one another, make game plans about teamwork to survive and overcome the race! IT IS GETTING EXCITING FOLKS!!!!