Looking Ahead While In the Moment

I have my last solo triathlon of the season in a week. I've got such mixed emotions about the whole thing. I'm scared because I know what I'm getting into on the bike. I'm excited because I enjoy triathlon so much. I'm sad because this is my last one of the year. I'm already setting goals for myself for next year. I'm trying to decide if I want to do the NYC Triathlon or the Lake George Triathlon for my first Olympic distance. Maybe I'll do both. Maybe next year I'll do all the triathlons I can find (and afford.) Why not? What's to stop me?

The thing I think I love the most about triathlon is that there are different challenges each time, there are different goals, and there are difference circumstances. There is always something new to learn and I just can't take enough in.

Triathlon is something that distracts me from me. Sure when my tri-suit is a little snug I'm reminded of the fact that I'm ten pounds heavier than last year. But at the same time, I'm probably a fitter ten pounds heavier. I'm running longer distances, feeling better on the bike, and I've found a swimming technique that makes my freestyle strokes less strenuous. Each race I'm pinpointing where I can improve and I do it. I just can't wait to apply what I learned this year to what I'm going to do next year.

Time For A New Leaf

Weight Watchers doesn't have too much original material for me to read. It's been five years of being a subscriber so I understand that the whole idea of weight loss isn't full of revolutionary information. But every once in a while there is an article about attitude and loving yourself just the way you are that I read immediately. I'm not very good at loving myself and I welcome new insights and approaches.

The article that I read the other day was about loving your body before you embark on any weight loss journey. I find that to be terribly ironic since people lose weight because they don't like their body- not because they do. (I understand that many people lose weight for health reasons but they are a minority in the American weight loss community.) Despite my initial attitude towards this approach I am beginning to find the merit. So lately I've been putting more effort into loving my body the way it is. Why shouldn't I? It's my body. It's my vehicle to live my life the way I want. Why waste energy hating it? Once I can let that frustration go I will be free.

That's really my goal- to feel free and in love with my publicly lauded ass. I guess I felt losing weight was the only answer. It's really not. The article really drove the point home when it gave me the perspective of being my own best friend. I'm disgusted with the way I speak to myself. Would I tell any of my friends they are a disgusting fat-ass? Or a lumpy tub of goo? Or will never look as fit as they feel? No. NO. I would never say that. So why do I say those things to myself? It's ludicrous. And crazy. I make jokes about things I don't like about myself to bring levity to my negativity. "The only part of my body that got wet in today's rainstorm was my ass. Because it didn't fit under the umbrella. Zing!" Why zing myself? To make others laugh? I need to find a new hobby.

I'm going to redirect my hateful energy into saying supportive things to myself. Truthful supportive things. There's no use in telling myself I have could be a Sports Illustrated model. That's just not real. (Nor are they. See what I did there? Haha.) I think I'll start with liking my skin. Mikey tells me I have such lovely skin. I should really start listening to him. And I need to stop listening to my negative self.

The Toughest Thing I Ever Read

Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying" was the most difficult book I've ever read because of the narrative. Faulkner wrote each chapter in the voice of a different character. The intelligence of the character and the vocabulary of the character varied significantly from one another. The younger or less well read each character was, the more focus it took out of me.

It was most definitely worth the effort because I felt a real sense of accomplishment when I finished. It was also a wonderful story told with the voices of fascinating people, filled with secrecy and heartache. A truly rewarding literary experience.

I'm an Asshole

Dear That's Just Wonky,

I'm so sorry I've neglected you so much for the past month. Who knew unemployment could be so time consuming? I ache for quiet time alone for weeks at a time but when faced with an unknown length of loneliness I panic. I didn't want to wallow so I made sure I was busy. Luckily I still had the part-time job that called me in for some day hours and my free-lance writing assignments to give me some structure. You can check out a post that has Mike's name on it but I wrote it and took all the pictures and here's one that has my name on it, though I wrote it before I was canned.

I was also away on a pre-planned vacation in the Adirondacks for five days. Every year I treat the trip like a fitness spa. I swam a total of 2 miles on the lake, ran a total of eleven miles, and biked a total of twenty. I loved every minute of it. It really helped me feel prepared for the triathlon that I have in two weeks. The road was pretty much the terrain I needed to train on so I'm feeling very strong this year. I'm also slowly building up my mileage each run for the half-marathon. Running in the mountains was great because the air is clearer and the roads aren't as bumpy as Albany's sidewalks. But for all the time I spent outside I didn't get much sun. The air was too cold and the wind was too fierce for sunbathing but perfect for flying my kite. Mike and I tried to fly a kite for thirty minutes before I gave up on it and tried the other kite in the kit. It turns out the first kite we were using wasn't even made with all its parts. We were flying a kite with no skeleton and no rudder. I looked pretty stupid for a while there. I want my money back.

The Monday after we came back, which was last Monday, from the wonderful mountains I started a new job. It's a job in theatre and I couldn't be more excited. As my friend Karen put it, I started my career on Monday. It was a crazy, stressful week but I've already been doing the kind of work I've always wanted to do. I am just beside myself. It's only up from here.

My softball team has also been busy with make-up games and kicking ass in the play-offs. I was second base for two games last week and I haven't played that position in two years. But! I made two outs, stopped a hard hit and scored a run on my own hitting and base running. It was a pretty exciting few weeks in the Colt .45 nation.

I know these are all just excuses but believe me, I've missed you too. I've been thinking about you constantly but every time I was in front of a computer more urgent things would require my attention, like finding a job and looking at porn. One day, I was in front of my computer for five hours, sitting in my triathlon suit, because I was just going to check my email before I worked out but the next thing I know I applied to three jobs and organized some important data. Not to mentioned getting my wonderful job offer. That whole time wearing what amounts to be an adult onesie.

So never fear Wonky. I'm back. And I won't neglect you like that again. I promise.

Love,
Katherine
xxoo

Oh How Fast It All Goes

At 7:45am tomorrow morning I will be en route to Baltimore/Washington International Airport to meet up with my friend Pamela so we can go to our ten year high school reunion. Pamela is one of few friends from high school with whom I speak regularly. I moved to England three days after graduating from high school so I didn't get to spend breaks with friends or that last shebang summer before college with any of my high school friends. So. It will be an honest ten years since I've seen many of the people with whom I spent three awesome years. I'm very excited to go and I really hope my ass is an appropriate size.

I really enjoyed high school. Everywhere we moved was a better social situation for me and it culminated with a great high school experience. I met great people and learned what I wanted to do with my life while in high school. So yeah! I'm fairly excited. I am a little sad that it will limit me to seeing friends only from my class. And even then not all of them. We scattered pretty effectively.

Despite my excitement I can't help but worry that I failed somewhere. I lost my job. I'm not (yet) married. I have no kids. I don't own a house. My life isn't all that thrilling. If I lived in a city being all fabulous I don't think I'd care so much, not that the size of Albany should count against me. Many people from high school got master's degrees, got married, bought houses, had kids and can already afford solo vacations on the Outerbanks. I can claim none of those things. I chose a different path. And I know that. I don't even know why that's really bothering me. I must not be really okay with the path I did pick and where life has taken me. What else can explain this ill-ease? The people I'm going to be spending most of my time with tomorrow night are people who don't give a shit about that kind of stuff. We'll have fun regardless of the degrees we have or the amount of money we make. I know that. So I should just forget my worries and look forward to shooting the shit with my friends while we wait in line for the buffet complete with open bar. Yeah. That's what I'm going to do. And it's going to be awesome.

The Day I Said Hello To My Little "Friend"

I'm very proactive when it comes to my health. I go for yearly physicals, yearly gyno visits, get my teeth cleaned at least once a year, and I take so many vitamins my fluorescent urine could sprout a baby from the dirt. So every year I have at least two opportunities to address the searing pain I feel in my abdomen when I sneeze, laugh too hard or cough. It's not every time I sneeze, laugh too hard or cough, but the pain is often. And severe. I feel like my left ovary is trying to punch its way out of my body with shear anger.

This year I decided to really get to the bottom of this so I made my gyno take an extra look. He confirmed the pain was stemming from my ovary by the face I made when he poked around the vicinity of my angry little ovum dispenser. He couldn't feel anything like a cyst so he scheduled me for a sonogram to get a better look of things. I needed a sonogram? Okay. Fine. I scheduled it for a Friday so I could leave work early and not have to worry about it. But the office closes at 11am so I will have to go back to work afterwards. Bummer but okay. Fine. I just hoped I don't feel somehow violated after the procedure. I have no idea what to expect but this does have to do with my lady bits so I assumed the worst.

I assumed that I would need to take something off to get a picture of my pissed off ovary taken so I arrived for my sonogram with easy to take off clothes, cute socks and underwear. I've never had a sonogram before so I had no idea what to expect. Will I have to take off everything? Just my bottoms? Take off nothing? I quickly had my answer. I had to take everything off. Okay. Fine. Easier to do the sonogramming I guess. But once I had my fancy paper gown on and feel the stiff breeze of central air is when I notice the stirrups. I'm kindly asked to place my feet in the stirrups and then a wand is prepared with some jelly. A WAND. I'm kindly asked to help maneuver the wand into my weewaw so the tech can get a better picture of my insides. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. How could I be so ignorant? Oh man, it was so uncomfortable. The tech didn't make any small talk to fill the awkward silence while so I decide to tell a story about a friend of mine who faced a similar surprise. I tried not to laugh because I didn't want to ruin the image of the grimacing ovary so I just drummed my fingers on my chest until she mercifully removed the probe.

I was told to go wait for the doctor in his usual exam room. Where the nurse directed me to TAKE EVERYTHING OFF AGAIN. Back to the paper gown I went. And I proceeded to wait for 15 minutes only for him to come in and tell me my ovaries are perfect and that there is nothing wrong with them. If I want, he can go in surgically to check things out but I figure that is unneccesary. He told me this while he wrote me a prescription for ibuprofen. Okay. Fine. All that for nothing. I have bared all of my lady-bits to two strangers in one day- for FREE- for stupid IBUPROFEN. I could have saved the co-pay and the stiff breeze. At least I know I'm healthy. I just wish I had something to appease the pissy ovary and give me some comfort. Sigh.

I Found the Opposite of a Crap Sandwich

I lost my job on Monday. I'm not going to get into the details but it was pretty awful. I wanted to curl up into the fetal position and never come out of it. Thanks to the help of my friends and family I came out of my fear coma to realize that only good can come of this. I was deeply unhappy and I'm now free to move on to better things. I have been given the freedom to explore things I probably wouldn't have explored in the confines of my full-time job. I'm not saying I'm skipping in the streets hollering, "I'm free! Free at last!" (Though I kind of am in my heart.) But I am going for jobs that would provide me with new people, new experiences, new skills, new opportunity. A little part of me is excited. A large part of me is scared.

I was terribly ashamed. I didn't want to tell my father out of fear that he would condemn me and I didn't want to tell my mother out of fear that she would smother me in her worry. I called my father the next day when I was collected enough that I wouldn't cry. His response was one of calmness and support. He's always been calm and supportive but I've never had to tell him I was fired before. And in this economy. I wanted to wait to tell my mom when I found a new job. Sort of a "oh by the way- I lost my job but it's cool because I have this other one." That didn't work since she called my former work extension to find that my voicemail was being sent to another phone. So I had to tell her.

I've been incredibly lucky- my part-time job immediately gave me more hours and put in a good word for me in for a full-time position; I have friends from my old job sending me openings they hear about; my friends who publish All Over Albany threw some more writing assignments my way; my friend Karen brought wine; and my friend Lyndy sang anything I wanted on her karaoke video game for an hour and then slept over so I wouldn't be home alone since Mike was out of town. But most importantly, Mike is letting me cry and be mad and feel frustrated. He is willing to do whatever it takes for me to go for jobs that I wouldn't have before. I couldn't feel more supported and cared for than I do. Thanks to my friends and family I know I'm going to be okay. I have to be. There is no other way to be.

Look Out Next Year

The race results are finally posted so I am able to do a post mortem. I did this race last year in 1:32:49. This year's race was completed in 1:33:25. I shaved 45 seconds from my swim, shaved a minute from my run but added two minutes on the bike. I must admit I'm kind of bummed. I am ten pounds heavier this year (my boss says that must be muscle- I don't agree) so that could account for some sluggishness and I wasn't as regimented in my training as last year. I'm okay with how I did. I only really added 45 seconds overall, not whole minutes. It's just I thought I had shaved time off the whole thing and I didn't.

Unlike last year I felt great once it was over. I didn't want to vomit and the weather was gorgeous so I could actually talk to Pat, Lyndy and Mike while we waited for Mike's cousin Diana to reach the finish line. I didn't feel so great at the start. While I was putting my nose-plug on my hand was shaking crazily. This could have been due to the fact that I drank some of Mike's super-energy drink before we went and that stuff makes me shaky. I couldn't have been that nervous.

I think I've learned some lessons for the next race:

1. I need to get toe-clips. Being able to pull up on the bike pedals will help with speed, time and stress on my legs. Hopefully it would make the ride just a little more enjoyable.

2. Get a different water bottle. The one I used wouldn't open all the way for me to get any of my Gatorade.

3. Drinking Gatorade (or trying to anyway) was better in the long run than just water. But just Gatorade will not cut it after the race. I need to eat something immediately afterward.

4. Always get there early. Getting there as early as we did was super! We were able to get to the bathroom when there was no line and we were able to get our bearings and enjoy the beautiful morning.

I am training lightly this week but I only have 43 days until my next race. I'll be doing more bike-centric training for this one. But then once it's over I will be doing nothing but running and swimming. It's all so close! Before I know it I will be running over the finish line of the half-marathon!