Tick...Tick...Tick...... NO BOOM.

Survived yet another predicted Apocalyptic event!
Hmm... How many does that make now?
I'm getting pretty good at this! (lol!)

Either way, I'm glad that we are all still here!  Because if we weren't, life just wouldn't be all that interesting...(yup, I got jokes.)

2012 ended pretty catastrophically for me, and frankly, I'm beyond GLAD to see it go.

My year (in a nutshell) went something like this:
Hold down couch.
Get bright idea to become more active.
Join gym.
Started racing.
More racing.
Still more racing.
Having a BLAST racing.
Lost 50 lbs of me because of racing.
Do big race in October.
Hurt feet.
Do a race 2 weeks later.
Destroy feet.
Do World Run Day in November.
Walk and cry through the entire thing because of destroyed feet.
STOP RACING because I can barely walk.
Mentally crushed.
Waitress on my feet 5 days a week.
Curl up in a ball and cry in pain after every shift because of feet.
Repeat the above 2 for almost 3 months.
Intake more Ibuprofen than food.
Stop all working out.
Sit in pain on self pity pot.
Hold down couch.
Dream of a pain free day.
Watch my (scale) weight drop because of muscle loss.
Eat like crap.
Watch my ass grow.
Get into month awaited Dr. appoint.
X Rays showed 3 heel spurs.
Pray Cortisone injection would be my Knight in shining armor.
Consider blog entry titled: Plantar Fascii-Fuck This!
Stress because 2012 is ending, new race season starting.
Worry about how all of this will effect my upcoming race season...

Happy New Year.

It's amazing how when something bothers you, it consumes you.  It's all you can think about.  My whole ordeal reminds me of a stop cigarette smoking commercial I once saw; The scene was of a man standing at the end of a long pier, while over looking the ocean.  As he was standing there, a shark jumped out of the water, and was chewing on his arm.  The scene showed his thousand mile blank stare out into the sea, with him repeating "Cigarette", "Cigarette, "Cigarette" over and over. He was consumed by his thoughts, all while oblivious to the rather large predator gnawing off his limb.  The commercial ended with him popping the smoking cessation product into his mouth, which immediately changed his thought process from cigarettes to "SHARK!!" "SHARK!!" "SHARK!!"

My "Shark" is my Plantar Fasciitis, my newly acquired inactivity (outside of work), and a mountain of unhealthy choices -Like CHOCOLATE! :) ....so good, but yet SOOOOO wrong!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days into the new year, somehow by the grace of God my feet started to feel noticeably better. I had noticed that I wasn't walking around on my tip-toes as much as I had been. I even noticed that I wasn't having to pound down Ibuprofen like it was candy to get through a shift at work. My feet weren't perfect, and my days weren't completely pain free, but I started to think that just *maybe* this was the end of this HELL I've been living in

I was feeling good and I wanted to give my feet a test try.  But because of my past experience I was terrified!!  The last time they had felt good (a month or so ago) I went back to my kickboxing exercise class, only to spend the time doing bounce on my foot cardio and I ended up destroying them all over again.

But I just HAD to try...
With that thought, 3 days ago I uncluttered and dusted off my treadmill  And I promised myself that if I felt the littlest bit of tearing or burning that I would stop.

I was able to go a whole 3.1 miles without any pain!!

I was so elated that I could have sat down and cried tears of joy!
Just to be safe, when I was done, I immediately stretched like I've never stretched before, downed some Ibuprofen and iced both feet.  It's like I was waiting for the aftermath of inflammation and pain -having to pay for what I had just done.  But fortunate for me, it never came!

The following day I wanted to try it again...
Back onto the treadmill I went to pound out another 3.1 miles.  I concentrated on foot strike, body posture, and breathing.  Miraculously I had the same outcome, no pain in my feet!

I can't say the same for the REST of my body though!!
With almost 3 months of holding down the couch, it has really taken a toll on my body and my abilities.  My legs are easily tired, my heart rate sky rockets, and my core is weak.  Not to mention my skin bounced around like I was JellO with eyes.  One of my greatest hates in life is eating sea slug, something I commonly call "Sand JellO" .. But now, I have a new second hate in life... Skin JellO!!
Ugh., What a sloppy mess my body is!

My body confuses me right now.
Overall, I'm elated with my progress!  Since this time last year I have lost a total of 55 lbs.  I've shrunk down almost 4 shirt sizes, and have gone down over 4 pants sizes. I've gone from a 42" waist to a 31"-32" waist.  My clothes that I could not wear before (because I was too big to fit them), are now too big on me.

So what's my problem you ask??
I feel as if I look the same as I did before I started all of this!!  I look in the mirror and I see every imperfection imaginable.  I can't figure out where *I* am buried in this "Edgar Suit" (Men In Black- LOVE that movie!) I'm wearing. What is "me", what is fat, and what is excess skin is confusing me.  And to top it off, unfortunately I just recently learned that it can take TWO years for your skin to catch up (shrink) with your current weight.  And if that's not bad enough, AGE (barf!), and lifestyle choices -What you stick in your food trap (aka: MOUTH) make a difference too....

Great, I'm sooo... screwed.
lol!
 
To fix my goofy way of thinking about my body, me and my "Flabby Flying Squirrel Suit" are taking a different approach to this year when it comes to body image.  Because of this year's race schedule, I know I'm not going to sit at this weight.  But to better help me clearly see the future difference, I had my daughter take pictures of me from the front, the side, and from the rear, wearing nothing but my sports bra and underwear.

GULP!!

I am also going to measure myself. That way I can keep more factual track of my progress- forgoing the common gym scale -which technically tells me NOTHING.  I'll compare photo's and notes at the end of this upcoming race season!

Honestly, I don't care if I lived the rest of my life at my present weight, -as long as it was muscle and not flab -I'm GOOD!  No matter how you "cut the fat", I want to be FIT and STRONG.  I never want to be stick thin.  I will never go below 160 lbs. Because of my height, anything below that makes me look gaunt, and starved.  Plus I have a love/hate relationship with my "fat" - Because I'm... Oh Crap, here it comes... OLD. (ouch, that hurt!)
I need it in my face as a plumper to look youthful, but NOT on my ass!!  I wish my fat cells would get their shit together and go where they are told :)

----------------------------------------------------

Speaking of Racing...
I am super EXCITED, (but yet I'm super SCARED) about this upcoming 2013 race year!!!!!!

I am really excited because I'm already registered for the 3 out of the 4 Triathlons that I will be doing.  I'm already committed to 1 Duathlon, and I am planning on doing all of the 5k's that I did this past year.  Plus, I really loved last year's Mud run- and would like to do another one or two.

I'm terrified because of my feet...
I'm worried that with my PF history, (high arches make me prone to PF) that one wrong move and it will be game over for me.  As an example, two of my Triathlons are back to back weekends in June. That's going to be tough to recover my feet in that short of a time frame. I'm even worried that my feet won't recover enough from my current position to even do my first race of the season.


**GROANS**...
I am just chomping at the bit here!!
ALL I WANT TO DO IS RACE!!

The irony of all of this is how much I had always HATED running... But take it away, and funny how suddenly that's ALL you want to do!
Just watch, if my feet heal/hold up- I will have my best running times EVER this season :)



   



       















    

Monster THIS!

I have not one, but TWO amazing children...

My "Small Fry" has a heart of Gold. He's polite, gentle and caring.  He always uses his manners and isn't a daredevil.  He's never been mean to anyone- ever!   

My big kid, well.... ??? What can I say?  For better or for worse, she's a carbon copy of me.  She's wise, she's bold, she isn't grossed out by much of anything, she isn't afraid to try new things, she knows when to have a good laugh, and knows when to reel it in.

Because we are so much alike, it creates for some "interesting" situations...

*I* have a "thing" about Spiders.

I have NEVER been a fan of them.

When I was 5, my parents had a pet tarantula.  Funny, I don't remember anything about being that young EXCEPT for that damn spider! I didn't like it! It was big, and hairy, and scary looking!  I remember that my babysitter would always poke at it with a piece of the aquarium lid while it was in the aquarium.  She didn't like it either.

  I must confess, I've actually killed a tarantula!

When I was 16, I worked at a local pet store that sold tarantulas.  One day while at work, I was trying to "show off" how brave I was to a customer by letting this $40.00 tarantula walk around on my arm.  For some reason, (it must have sensed my absolute terror!!) it started to bounce up and down (in place) really fast on my arm.  Unfortunately for it, my instant natural reaction was to fling it off my arm!  It hit the floor at lightening speed- putting an instant end to its life.  I never let one of those creepy buggers touch me again!

My fear of spiders runs deep!

While growing up in an old house it wasn't uncommon to have a spider in my bedroom.  I could never bring myself to squish them because: 1. I didn't want to touch them, 2. I couldn't handle listening to its body crack into pieces. So I would do the next best thing... Coat them with anything aerosol that I could get my hands on, and hope that it would be enough to kill them.  If that didn't work, I'd fry them with my Bic lighter!

Yes, I am the girl who would flip my car over a spider!!

When I was in my late teens I was the driver on a blind date one night.  While driving, a spider dropped down from my visor headed towards my lap.  Luckily, my date saved me from that menace before it touched me.  I have no memory of that "date"- again, only the damn spider!

When my daughter was a baby, I was a stay at home mom.  I was sitting on the living room floor playing with her when I looked up and saw a HUGE "wolf" spider on our living room curtain!  That one was a MONSTER! It measured over 3 inches from tip to tip!  How did I get rid of it??? I called my husband home from WORK to save us. (Unreal huh?? lol!)

Ok, I think you get the point of my Arachnophobia, back to my story!

One lazy afternoon last summer, while laying in my bed, I suddenly smelled a very foreign scent. It was such an "odd" scent that I cannot even begin to describe it.  I sat up to search for the source only to realize that on my pillow next to where my head just laid was a brown marmorated "stink bug".  These bugs are rather large, measuring almost 2 inches in size. They resemble a common box elder beetle (just bigger!) and are harmless.  

So I decided to play a little "Joke" on my daughter...

I grabbed the stink bug with my hand, and headed to my daughter's bedroom.

She was lying on the top of her loft bed listening to her music.  I got her attention, and then... wait for it....

I threw the bug at her.

  

It took her a moment to realize what the Hell just happened, but when she saw this huge bug on her it was like watching a cat on a hot tin roof!  I don't think I've EVER heard her screech so loud or move so fast!

I of course was laughing so hard I just about passed out!

Just the other day while taking a shower I suddenly noticed that I wasn't alone.  I was sharing my shower with the largest, blackest, jumping spider that I have ever seen! It was sitting right on the door hinge watching me!  I was really on edge. I wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but in that shower!!! 

Then my daughter just happened to come into the bathroom, so I told her about my "Pal"...  

And what does she do???

She opens the shower door causing this lil bugger of death to drop down onto the small shower floor where I was standing!!!! 

I FREAKKKKED!!!

(I came completely uncorked!)

If I could have scaled the shower walls I would have!  

(Ok, I did become one with the side of the shower!)

And there sat my daughter... doubled over laughing hysterically, reminding me of that "one time" with the stink bug.. and she muttered something about KARMA as she left the bathroom.

       

         

    

"Barnyard Style!"

Go ahead, ask me... "Kill anything today?" 

Why Yes, yes I did!

And that leads me to my disclaimer: If you are feint at heart, stop reading here.

Being an only child growing up in a "firearms family" has taught me how to shoot from the time that I was knee high to a grasshopper, well into early adulthood.  I grew up hunting.  If I wasn't old enough to legally hunt, I was still brought along.  My parents even have stories of bear hunting, while dragging me along in the infant carrier!  I was like a typical boy growing up (funny, cause I'm obviously NOT a boy!), occasionally receiving guns as Holiday gifts.  I deer hunted with my family each year until I reached my early twenties. After that, I got tired of being cold, found the sport to be boring, and hated venison.  I never went hunting again...

The best part about farming is that you don't have to sit out in the freezing cold playing the waiting game in order to stock your freezer with meat. AND as a *bonus*, you don't have to eat venison!

Today, I learned a new skill! 

Today I learned how to slaughter a meat goat.

(Funny, because I had originally started out the day by doing a more female orientated domestic duty... laundry!)

Once I had decided that today would be the day, I started to collect the items that I would need:  Rope, to hang the goat carcass from a tree. Butchering knives; to slit the throat, eviscerate, and skin.  Rubber gloves to not get my hands full of "ick".  The 22cal. rifle, to do the "deed".  The book on basic livestock butchering (because I had never done this before!). And a piece of string, to tie off the bung hole.

All of the items were easy enough to find, except for the dang piece of string!!!
I could not come up with a simple 6" length of string. The irony is that all of my crochet yarn is in town at the apartment, and not here on the farm.  I thought about using fishing line, but then figured that it would just slice through what I was trying to tie off.  I thought about using a length of baler twine, but I thought because of its thickness, that I couldn't tie it tight enough to close.  I even looked for a shoelace, no luck.  I finally found my answer by taking a string from the strangest place- I took it off of a brand new Sheep Vaginal Prolapse Spoon (a plastic device used to keep the girly parts of a sheep inside where they are supposed to be while in late gestation).  We always kept a bunch on hand in case of need, and without any sheep left here on the farm-
Wahla! Found my string!!

I would be lying if I didn't say that I wasn't nervous about doing all of this.  Even though I grew up hunting, I never had to field dress my own deer. I was always the "leg holder" for my grandpa while he made efficient work of the job.

While drinking my morning coffee, I read and re read the areas of interest in the livestock butchering book.  (Aka: I was stalling! lol!)

Once I got my nerve, I gathered my gun, the goat's breakfast and off I went.  I knew that I wanted this to be as humane, and as quick as possible.  I didn't want the goat in any distress.  Distress causes an adrenaline dump into all of the muscles, creating stiffer meat.  When I got to the goat pen, the goat I was after was standing with his front legs on the cattle panel looking at me waiting to eat. I grabbed my gun and was going to do a point blank shot to the skull (draw an imaginary "X" between the ears and the eyes, meeting in the middle of the forehead- that's where you want to shoot), but I couldn't because I ran into one small problem...

He wanted nothing more than to lick the end of the barrel.

Now I know you are thinking "Awwwwe how sweet! How could you?" But don't. He wasn't a pet, he was a meat animal since birth. He was never gentled. I provided for him, he provides for me- Those are the rules. Besides, if I would have taken one step closer to him he would have run off like a marsh hare!

I stood there, drawn down on him for awhile waiting for the moment when he would finally put his head down, but it never came.  I knew this wasn't going to be THAT easy, so I grained the goats and waited for him to eat. While I waited I encountered another snafu, the other goats were eating nose to nose with him. Why yes, I had planned on putting the barrel on his head and pulling the trigger- but I didn't want to deafen the 3 other goats next to him.

Let me just stop here a second and say that in a perfect world I would have not had the other 3 goats present.  I personally think having them see what's happening is cruel.  But if I would have isolated the other 3, it would have made this goat really worked up, risking a bad shot because of him being so on the move and frantic.

Back to story... Luckily for me, he was a food hog and shoved the other goats out of the way.  And so I waited for the right moment.  After the shot. I gave it a few moments for him to do his thing. After which I grabbed his hind legs and dragged him out of the pen and into the backyard where I could slit his throat and drain him using a small hill to my gravitational advantage.

While I was waiting for him to finish draining I grabbed the book to follow the diagram on what to do next.  I read that I was to take the front feet off just above the ankle bone.  Having never done this before I learned really quick that this thing is more durable than I ever thought!  I guess I was expecting to take my boning knife, and after working my way around the joint, to be able to snap it off like on a chicken.  I expected WRONG!  After a couple of attempts I gave up on objective #1, deciding to leave the feet on, and moving onto the next task.

The next step was to peel the skin back from the front legs all the way to the shoulder.  I had to make an incision down the length of the inside of the leg.  OMG! What was this goat made out of? Steel??  Getting through the hide was tougher than I thought.  And I'm sorry to say it, but my definition of "Peel" is to like peel a banana.  I had one hand on the leg, and one hand on the skin while I tried to "peel" it back. I learned immediately that you cannot peel a goat like a banana.  You can't just pull the skin off!!!  SO I let that one go for now while I moved onto the next objective...

(I'm starting to realize that I'm NOT very good at all of this! LOL)

The next task on hand was to tie off the bung hole.
Um excuse me?? You want me to not only "touch", but  to also "cut loose" the anus?
You have got to be kidding me!
But I did it! I cut around the anus and pulled it out, so that I could tie a string around it to keep the poo from coming out and tainting the meat.

REALLY???
Out of the 3 objectives the only thing I had successfully managed thus far was tying off its asshole??

My next mission was to finish dragging it up the hill, through the backyard, to my rope over the tree branch. After I tied the hind feet to the rope I was starting to feel pretty good about everything.

Until I hit yet ANOTHER road block.

 I could not hoist the goat off the ground by the rope!!
I pulled, and pulled on that rope!  I wrapped the rope around the base of the tree to help me with pulling.  But I could not get more than a few inches of hoist.  (Pretty much the only thing I could do was get it in a vertical position) Crap!  Now what?? I NEVER thought that I wouldn't be able to hoist it up the tree all by myself!  Not that I think I'm THAT strong, it just never crossed my mind!  So I took a minute to think about how to problem solve this situation...  Then it hit me!  Use the 4 wheeler!! I had it all planned out, I was going to tie the rope onto the 4 wheeler and use that to hoist the goat off the ground to hang.  Genius!  WRONG! The 4 wheeler wouldn't start!  Ok, next plan... Use the riding lawn mower!  Again Genius!!  The rider took quite a bit to initially start in this cold weather.  Plus it hasn't been run in months.  But once I got it started I drove it down to where I was working, tied on the rope and drove it forward.

FAIL.
The rider couldn't hoist it either!
Once the slack was out of the rope, the rider's wheels spun in place.
Darn.

I realized that I needed to lighten the load.
Here we go... I decided to dress it.
Lucky for me and my curiosity, I have opened up plenty of animals over the years searching for the cause of death.  So this part was pretty easy for me!  While "gutting" it, I couldn't help but think that I should go into the house and grab a scalpel (my cutting tool of choice!) to make quicker work of it!  I was pretty proud of my dressing job!  I didn't puncture the stomach, intestines, or bladder.  And the rectum came out easy because of the earlier incision and string!  The only thing that I had wished for was a kid to now hold the leg for me!! Once the guts were out, I removed the head with a butcher's hand saw.

After I lightened the load, I tried hoisting it yet again by hand. I could kinda lift the bugger, but I couldn't hold the goat up, pull the slack out of the rope, and tie it off all at the same time.  Back to the lawn mower I went!  Because of there being less weight, I could pull it enough to get everything except for the ankles of the front feet off the ground before the rider pooped out.
GOOD ENOUGH!

Hmm... How do I untie the rope from the lawn mower, and tie it to the tree without losing everything that I had just done?? I didn't!  I used a second rope. I tied it to my original rope around the ankles and tied that to the tree!  Then I could put the rider in reverse, loosening the taught from the line without the goat falling back to the ground.  After I got it tied off, I inserted a stick into the chest cavity to hold it open.

Next up, skinning...
This wasn't such a bad job! It reminded me of weeding a garden...Mindless work. I admit, it was kind of fun to try and cut the skin away from the body without cutting into the meat. Notice, I said "Cut" and not "peel"?? lol!  The only thing that crossed my mind, were the people driving by seeing me do this.  The way my house faces, people can still get a clear view even though they are 300' away.  And with this goat being black and white, I thought; " Oh Great! Someone is probably thinking that I'm skinning a large dog!"

Given that it was my first time at skinning, my job wasn't perfect.  If you look at the solid hide you can see a few spots where I had gone through it making a small hole. And you can see a couple of thin spots of meat on it- where there shouldn't be.  But all in all, I'm pretty proud!

After I had the hide off, the only thing I had left to do was to make the carcass "cat proof".  The words "cat proof" and "bullet proof" kind of go hand in hand. Nothing can ever be bullet proof, it can only be bullet resistant. Same with cats...
To keep it out of cats reach the best I could, I tied a rope to the front legs, and tied that rope to the base of the tree. Right now the goat looks like a meat covered hammock with the way that it is hanging!  Not pretty, and not typical, but after all of that work of raising, feeding, and slaughtering,  I would be very sad to see it all become cat food.

All in all, today turned out to be one of those "I cannot believe that I did that" type of days.
I'm happy knowing that in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse (lol!) I would be able to eat.
I am SHOCKED at how "non icky" doing this slaughter was. Outside of getting a bit of initial kill "blood on my Uggs" (that's OK, they weren't authentic Ugg boots anyway! lol!) there wasn't any blood at all! There wasn't any blood, poo, or stink. I didn't even wear my rubber gloves (I wore my outside work gloves)
And the best part???

Hunting "Barnyard style" does have its advantages! No license required!            

             

       

Plantar Fascii.... FRUSTRATED!!!!

...Pass me another Advil please...

There is a saying in the horse world: "No Hoof - No Horse",
I've learned that this saying holds true in people too!
er? Just without the "hoof" or the "horse"!

I am a sufferer of Plantar Fasciitis.
What is that you ask??  (Here's a quick visual and explanation!)

Plantar Fasciitis is inflammation/tearing of the thick tissue on the bottom of the foot. This tissue is called the plantar fascia. It connects the heel bone to the toes and creates the arch of the foot.

Yup, that's what I have...Welcome to the world of sport's injury... it sucks!

It is no secret that I am "accident prone".
For instance, I wiped out at a bar (completely sober), tripping over a small rubber mat and falling on my face in front of a large group of people.  Or when I rolled my ankle in a restaurant in New Orleans, again falling on my face in front of an entire room of dining patrons (that one left my ankle black/blue and so swollen that I couldn't walk for weeks)  Or when I was Ice Diving, and while walking, I slipped on some wet slippery ice and sent myself flying (I was splayed out like Bambi on Ice with that one!) Or just this summer, I was on my bike at an intersection and I forgot to unclip my shoe from the peddle, and...you guessed it! Fell on my face in front of a bunch of onlookers!

I'm so accustomed to wiping out that all I can do is laugh when I do.  I'm pretty banged up and bruised on a regular basis.  If it's not from falling down, it's from banging into stuff, or by playing too rough.  Most of the time I don't even notice being bruised until someone points it out to me.  Scrapes and cuts I of course notice immediately :)

Those minor injuries don't bother me... But I can't say the same for my Plantar Fasciitis!

The first time I got PF was a few years back. I can't remember what I was doing at the time when I got it, and I didn't even know what it was.  I just knew that my foot hurt, and it hurt to bear weight on.  So I wen't to a Podiatrist who enlightened me on this condition.  I then wore special insoles inside of my shoes, I taped my foot, I wore a make-shift splint during the day, and I wore a splint at night.  I was fortunate enough at that time to not have to work, which gave me plenty of time to rest it in order to heal it.  This time around, I'm not so lucky.  I work on my feet 5 days a week, which gives me little time for it to rest and heal.

I raced this entire summer without having an issue with PF. After some races, I could feel it "coming on" and I just made sure not to injure it more by taking the rest it needed to recover. I didn't get full blown PF until I competed in that Duathlon in October (and I had just started working shortly before that).  I damaged the Fascia on my right foot bad during that race.  And there I was, back to doing my familiar walking on my tip toes with my right foot from then on out.

I admit, I am not the brightest bulb on the tree- cause after the Duathlon, I did another race two weeks later. (surely not helping my cause!)

Between my past racing, and present working, I just cannot get this to heal!  I have so many pairs of shoes, so many sets of PF insoles (sometimes I would wear up to THREE different sets in my shoes at one time!), neither helps.  I've even gone to a special shoe store to have my gait looked at to get a correct pair of  running shoes ($130 later.. no different).  I've done calf stretching, foot stretching, foot massages, wrapping and taping, resting, elevating, and cold therapy.  I've eaten so many Ibuprofen I'm worried that it isn't good for me. I've watched endless videos on correct walking/running to avoid PF.  I've read countless articles on the subject.  I've adjusted my gate to have a more "flat" foot strike on the ground.  I've tried to transition into a more barefoot approach by wearing my Vibram Five Fingers (my favorite shoes on the planet!!) to work.

But at the end of the day, I would curl up in a ball and whimper in pain.

PF- It's a life changer.
I've had to eliminate everything outside of my job.
Not that long ago, I started taking Kickboxing 3x's a week. Absolutely LOVED it!  But I stopped when I knew I wasn't doing my foot any favors by constantly pounding on it.  I tried to favor it the best I could during class (and I learned that I can jump rope on one foot, and even do one legged jumping jacks!), but as soon as class was over, I would limp home. Speaking of limp. I now limp everywhere... at work, walking in the morning, walking to the vehicle...etc.  I've stopped running (not that I was a fan of it before!),  and no more treadmill.  I can't even do the elliptical machine because it hurts.  Everything physical in my life has come to a screaming halt.

And to add salt to my wound,
Here's the kicker...
I'm junking out my left leg/foot because it is constantly compensating for my right foot.  My left hip, knee, and foot (which now has PF too) are always aching.  I'm also losing muscle and condition by the minute from not exercising.  Things are getting "wiggly-er"

Unfortunately, this is the way things have to be for awhile.  It's really sad for me to think about after all my hard work this past year.  I worked my ass off!!! LITERALLY!  But if I don't rest this the best I can, I will end up with more permanent damage then I have already done.  I will end up having Cortisone injections, or even surgery. Neither of which I want!

I'm really starting to wonder about my next race season...
I have already signed up for 2 out of 3 triathlons, and 1 out of 3 duathlons for 2013. And then there are the 5k's, and mud runs. I'm worried that my foot won't hold up and I won't be able to do what I love...Racing.

In the upcoming week I am going to start into things that don't put strain on my foot like; swimming, stationary biking, yoga, pilates, and weight lifting.  And hope to in the upcoming month to get back into more aerobic type exercising.

I will get through this, it just will take time. :)

 
   

  

Waitress Games... Part CUTE

Every once in awhile... 

(Hmmm... That just doesn't sound right! Ok, I need to rephrase!)  

Every once in a what almost feels like a LIFETIME, someone relatively good looking walks into the restaurant.

Let's face it, I work at a Family Restaurant.  Family Restaurants are generally not the "Hippest" place in town.  Outside of walkers, canes, wheel chairs, and crayons... Afternoon eye candy is pretty slim!  But when the Magic happens.... There isn't a waitress in the joint that doesn't stand up and take notice.  And the lucky waitress that gets to wait on this vision of beauty, is temporarily luckier than any winning lottery ticket holder!

Our day shift waitress clan is made up of all different walks of life. Some gals are happily attached, some are single, some are separated, and some are divorced.  Pretty much the same diversity as any other place of employment these days.

Just the other day, a good looking gentleman came in to dine with his female partner. Who knows what the relation was between the two, but they were pretty close as they had both decided to sit on the same side of the booth together. (Awwwwe.... how romantic!)  

One of the waitresses alerted me to him and had said that he had the "cuteness" factor going on. So of course, I being who I am, I wanted to check him out for myself!

There was only ONE problem. There was no way I could just randomly walk past their table because they were sitting in what we call "the tunnel".

The tunnel is a single row of booths that run down a long DEAD END hallway.  With a wall being on the left, the hallway only being wide enough to fit a waitress, and the row of booths on the right- There was nothing discreet about checking him out!  And to top it off, if it couldn't get any more impossible,  they were sitting in the very last booth.  Plus they had their backs facing to the rest of the room.

There won't be anything casual about the task!

Great,... How am I going to pull THIS off??
I had no business to be down that hallway, they weren't my table. And it would look really silly of me to just walk down to the end, turn around STARE and walk back!

But then my waitress friend made a valid point!  She reminded me that we keep the highchairs we are not using back there.  SO I grabbed my rag (whoops! It's a TOWEL, not a RAG- Waitressing 101!) and off I went to wipe down the highchairs!!

I felt SO guilty and stupid for being back there that I couldn't even look at them! I was less than two feet away from them, and as to not seem invasive I kept my back to them the entire time that I was cleaning off those chairs.  When I was done, I turned around and took a long hard glance at the man in question and went back to report my opinion.  Nothing obvious about that!

He was a nice looking dark haired, clean cut, shaved chest (YES!!! I NOTICED!!!) man.  Oh! He had a woman with him?? ...Never noticed... HA!

While my waitress friend and I were chatting about him, another waitress came up and had asked us what we were talking about.  After we had explained the whole thing to her, her human nature took over.  She then wanted to see this for herself!

But once again, the same dead end tunnel problem came into play.

SO we gave HER the Towel....
Did I mention we have the cleanest highchairs in town????? ;)



                   

Fear Factor- Everybody has a limit.

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

-Nelson Mandela

Yesterday I had participated in my first "Duathlon".  This race consisted of a 3 mile run, transitioning into a 33 mile bike ride, transitioning again and ending with a 1 mile sprint to the finish line.  This was my biggest race to date.

Let's see... How to start all of this... How about with some HONESTY?? :)

I am a  Fraidy Cat.

Yup, it's true!  There, I said it.  

I have a pattern about me when it comes to "big things" in my life:  I get the idea to do something, and then I commit to it. Then, as time moves closer to the event, I get extremely nervous about doing it.  My reasons for getting nervous usually boil down to performance and fear. The day of the big event I've accepted what is to come and my nerves/fears have mellowed. The moment before the event, I'm always focused, and relaxed. My fears and nervousness are gone. Once I do the event, I'm always pleasantly surprised at either how much fun it was, or how well I did.  

This time, this race was different... I was almost overtaken by my Fear. 

I love cycling! 

But there are 3 things about the sport I absolutely fear: Becoming "Bike Splat" (run over by some object), riding on wet pavement, and popping a tire.  Two of which are the fear of dying, and the last one- well, that's a performance thing! Not sure if I can remember how to change a flat!

  

This race was the ultimate Trifecta for me when it came to those fears.

  

The weather forecast for the race was horrible!  They were predicting cold temps., heavy rain at times, and high winds.  Knowing this, I had spent plenty of days before the race thinking that these odds are not in my favor, and that I run the risk of getting seriously hurt. I had done quite a bit of debating to race or not to race.

The morning of my race, I was pretty "typical me" (I was pretty "Chill") 

I was up at 4:30 am eating my pre-race oatmeal, I had accepted the weather, and had moved on to thinking about the race itself and strategy.  

By 5:15 everything was packed and I was on the road for the 2 hour drive. 

It took less than 30 minutes for my fears to kick back in!  It was raining so hard that even with the wipers on high, you still couldn't see the road in front of you. (ahem, another "I'm going to die" moment! lol!)  Luckily, I wasn't driving so I could shut my eyes and try to "Zen" it all out (didn't work! lol!)

2 Hours later when I got to the race it was still raining.  I checked in, got my bib number, chip timer, and shirt.  Even then I was still not convinced that I was going to race. But I knew that I somewhat liked the shirt I just got, and that I couldn't wear it in good conscience if I didn't do the damn race!

After hearing the race announcer over the loud speaker announce that the course was very slippery, I sat frozen from fear in the car for the next 60 minutes undecided if I should race due to what I had just heard and safety.

And then I saw the other racers...

Holy Cats were these racers fit!!!

Um? Yeah, they all looked like they just stepped off of the cover of a Wheaties box as Athlete Of The Year!  I thought to myself; Good Lord? Were all of these racers "Elite Racers"?  I then heard the same race announcer announcing that due to the slippery bike course, pace times would be slower for the race- they will be down from a 30 MPH bike pace, to roughly a 26-28 MPH pace.  

I just about passed out when I heard that!!  

A 28 mph PACE?? I can only make that speed on a steep downhill with the wind to my back! My non race pace is only half of that!  I calculated how long it would take me to complete this race, compared that to the estimated times of the other racers, and wondered if the race officials would even 

still be there when I got done!

And suddenly the fear inside my head just got a new best friend! 

His name was EMBARRASSMENT!

There I sat, consumed by both fear and embarrassment trying to figure out what I was going to do.  I weighed the reasons I wanted to race vs. quit.  My reasons for racing were because I had signed up for it, my friends/family knew that I was doing it, and I was too embarrassed to turn in my chip timer and drive off having everyone see that I had just quit. My reasons not to race were because of fear, safety, and embarrassment of finishing way behind all of the other racers. 

But my time was running out.. I knew that the transition area closed soon, and if my bike wasn't racked, and my gear in place- I wasn't racing PERIOD!  Those were the race rules.

15 minutes before the staging area closed I had made my final decision...

GAME ON!

(and then I was scrambling because I had nothing ready!)

A friend of mine on Facebook wrote this to me: "Fear Is A Powerful Emotion. Ask Yourself What You Would Regret More."

I just COULD'NT be crippled by my fears!

It would haunt me forever if I quit without even trying. I may not be the best, but I am not a quitter.  I may come in last, but I will do it with a smile- Because THAT is who *I* am.

...and that is what I did.

According to my Garmin, I had the BEST run time of my life!  Granted, I think it was because all the other racers were SO much better than me, that I pushed myself harder. (Or perhaps it was because I was "Geeking" out to my favorite Dub Step station on Pandora! Awesome music always helps! lol!)

I finished my (first portion) run in 33 minutes, and 13 seconds. Of course I was last, but I didn't care! I was having fun smiling, jokingly telling the people that were marking the course that I was "bringing up the rear!"  And of course I was the only person left in the transition area when I got there. No big deal, I didn't have to deal with the mass of people that all got there at the same time before me!  I turned off my music (illegal to ride with during a race), changed into my bike shoes, downed a packet of energy gel, squeezed my wet hands into my bike gloves, helmet on, and off I went!

I was happy because the portion I hated the most was done!

My bike ride was "Interesting"...

(the cycling portion was two 16+ mile laps)

Right away race officials tweaked me out by telling me to be careful upon exiting the transition area because of the wet leaves on the pavement. Once I got going the first thing I did was test my wet brakes a bit to see how responsive they were. I was extremely surprised to learn that even though wet, they worked perfectly!  While I was out on the highway, I had one mental rule: Stay off the road paint!  Hitting that wrong would have been a sure fire way to end up eating concrete.  I tried not to care about the cars whizzing past me, and I breezed over the bumpy, slippery, railroad tracks.

Once off the main highway, and onto the county roads where cars were few, I felt myself relax.  I even spotted a racer about 300' ahead of me!  So I concentrated on my technique; head down, elbows and knees in, push the peddles down, pull the peddles up. I also took advantage of the changes in elevation by shifting gears often and moving my body forward and backwards.  

After a few minutes I did catch and pass that racer!

And then the hills started. It was never ending up hills!  Each time I got to the top of a hill, there would be a short down hill then onto another even bigger up hill.  These constant hills were tiring! 

I even had to stand and peddle to climb up them!

After about 30 minutes, while coasting down a small hill I decided to take my first drink of water.  When I went to replace my bottle back into its holder, I missed the holder and DROPPED my bottle onto the road. Uh! Really???? I've never dropped my bottle before, and now I do it in the middle of a race???  And so I stopped, turned around and went back to pick up my bottle. If I was a TRUE contender, there is NO WAY I would have ever stopped to pick it up!  But dang it, this was one of my nice Camelbak bottles- and I wasn't leaving it!  No bottle gets left behind! lol!

With that blunder, the racer I had passed earlier quickly caught back up to me.  (I actually freaked her out, she thought that I wiped out because she saw me turn my bike back around after I had the bottle back). Her and I rode together for a few minutes and she made a very valid point! Out of the blue she said:

"We may be in last place, but we are beating everyone else who had decided to sit home 

and not race today!"

And then she was gone. I performed better on the down hill than she did and I left her behind me.

LOVE the Down Hills!!!

The rest of the way was grueling!

This course was described as "Flat and Fast".  Personally, I was really starting to wonder where the FLAT parts were! All I kept doing was climbing long inclines! Plus the winds were really strong, pushing me and my bike all over. It was still raining on and off, and the temperature was dropping due to the strong wind.  I had head wind, wind from the left, and wind from the right, but NEVER wind from behind me! lol!

I tried to think positive!

This race was also described as "Scenic", so I looked around a bit.  It was beautiful! The open fields, the fall colors, a couple of horses that ran the fence line as I rode by, a herd of cows quietly grazing in a field, and a winding creek that went in and out of the fall trees.

And then the "Beauty Bubble" popped and I was back to fighting hills, wind, cold, rain, slippery corners, and snot.....lots of snot.  Trying to figure out what to do with that snot was a learning curve all in itself!

Thank GOD nobody was around me! I'm certain it wasn't pretty! lol!

At mile 12 I was really starting to feel fatigue settling in.  I was chilled even though I was working harder than ever.  With hill after hill, I wanted nothing more than to be done. I don't know how many times I contemplated stopping on the side of the road and waiting for someone to pick me up. But I continued to keep riding on.  One of the hills was so tough for me that I had to get off my bike 15' from the top, and run up it with my bike in hand. Once at the top, I had to stop for a minute and take a rest before I rode onto the next hill, an even bigger one.  The gal I had once passed, had now passed me up.  After that minute I got back on my bike and continued on.

My most memorable moment came when the first place racer, who was finishing his second lap, past me and told me; "Good Job! Keep it up!"

At mile 15 I was in rough shape riding up yet another hill when there I saw the race photographer. (Oh great, this isn't going to be pretty!) Even though I was tired, I smiled and said Hello to him as I was riding by.

At mile 16 I was pretty much praying for death. lol. I just kept thinking how on earth am I going to do this entire lap all over for a second time!

And just when I wanted to quit, my saving grace came.  I got to head back to the transition area instead of going the second lap. I found out that they pulled all of the race volunteers off of the bike course because the winds were over 20 mph.  I wasn't the only person that completed just one lap (16.85 miles), there were quite a few others that were ahead of me with the same fate.

Even though I was exhausted, I was still happy.  I re racked my bike, quickly changed back into my running shoes and finished my last mile to the finish line.  I ran with the gal who I saw on the bike course for awhile. It was nice to finally learn her name, and a little bit of her story.  I smiled and thanked all of the race volunteers as I passed them. I even "High Fived" a spectator!

I felt good when I crossed the final finish line. I had worked hard.  I pushed myself harder than I ever had before.  I felt that even though I was 16 miles short on my bike ride, I did the impossible. I conquered my fears and insecurities by getting out of the car, and saying "I'm Going To Do This!"

Of course I came in close to last, but that's OK.

My fitness level did not match the other competitors, and I'm very inexperienced.  That was the very first time I have rode in the rain.

I was proud of myself for having the courage, and desire to TRY.

There were 110 people signed up for that race, and only 67 people competed in it that day.

My placing was 65th place. I was 1 of 8 people that were "one lap" competitors.

Here are my stats and the 1st place finisher for comparison (the first place finisher was a man 3 years younger than me)

My bike pace was 14 MPH, the first place finisher 28 MPH.

My 3 mile run: 33:12 min./sec.      (first place racer: 18:11) 

My T1: 3:47 min/sec.      (first place racer: :38 seconds)

My Bike: 1:16 hour/min. *16.85 miles      (first place racer: 1:23 hour/min. *33 miles)

My 1 mile run: 13:11 min/seconds        (first place racer: 6:59 min./seconds)