Lauren’s Hope and a Giveaway

UPDATE: THE WINNER OF THE LAUREN’S HOPE GIFT CERTIFICATE IS MARTHA POOLE!

The kind people at Lauren’s Hope were thrilled with the positive comments from everyone so they gave me a discount code to offer to my readers.

Happy Friday!

SPEEDSkatingMomBlogButton***

I know! Exciting, right? A giveaway! I never do giveaways and yet now here I am GIVING SOMETHING AWAY.

I am a glass half full but likes to be prepared type of person. That means while I’m always hopeful things will turn out for the best, I have a plan in place in case they don’t. This is why I always run with three things:

(1) $5.00
(2) My phone
(3) My medical card

And ever since I ran face first into a low-hanging tree branch because I run looking down at the sidewalk, I also tend to wear bright workout gear because it will make it easier for the paramedics to find me.

This brings me to Lauren’s Hope. Lauren’s Hope combines safety with style. They carry medical i.d. bracelets that don’t, you know, look like medical i.d. bracelets. As a mom of a child with allergies, it’s important that he always has his information on him in case of an emergency. He’s at an age where he wants to blend in a bit more which is why I absolutely love these leather braided medical i.d. bracelets for boys. Or even these paracord bracelets.

Now, just because you don’t have a medical condition doesn’t mean you can’t wear one. For the past three weeks I’ve been wearing this Onyx Ceramic Stainless Steel Alert Bracelet. If something were to happen to me while running, the Universal Medical Alert Symbol is on the outside of the bracelet letting anyone know there is information on the bracelet that can be helpful. In my case, it has my name, home phone number and I.C.E. number engraved on it.

Now here’s the good news! I’m giving away a $50 (US) gift certificate to Lauren’s Hope (and yes, they ship to Canada!!)

To enter, all you have to do is leave a comment below and tell me which bracelet you would get and for who. Please be sure to leave your email address so I can contact you. You have until December 5, 2013 to enter.

The winner will be picked using www.random.org.

Disclaimer:  I was given my onxy bracelet for free but I asked that I be able to do a giveaway so one of you can get some awesome medical i.d. jewellery too. I haven’t taken it off since I put it on and my husband actually thought I bought myself a new bracelet. He was quite impressed.

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Posted in Speed Skating | 35 Comments

Swimming With The Dolphins

We just got back from a Disney Cruise which, to sound as hokey as possible, was magical in every sense of the word. From the moment crew members announced us as we got on the ship, to watching fireworks in the middle of the ocean at night, our life was filled with pixie dust for seven days.

But by far the most magical moment for me was the dolphin shallow water encounter at Dolphin Kay in Atlantis. I’ve always wanted to swim with a dolphin (unfortunately the boys were too young for the swimming encounter) so this was the next best thing. Only, I didn’t realize HOW excited I was until I walked into Dolphin Kay.

Y’all remember Kristen Bell talking about her birthday sloth on Ellen? No?

Watch this.

That was me when I saw the dolphins. I burst into happy tears and was all “OMG, I can’t believe we’re really doing this!” And then I started telling random people how excited I was while my kids tagged along begging me to stop.

Gawd, I’m so embarrassing.

But you know what?  I don’t care because I got to hug Palmer the dolphin and it was the best moment of the trip.

dolphin_cay_excursionAnd quite frankly, my kids should be happy that I didn’t start doing the robot too.

p.s. In case you were wondering, the whole no tech or television thing at our house is going surprisingly well.

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Trying Stuff: Volunteering

With the exception of when I overheat during a workout, I’m always cold. ALWAYS. So it’s ironic that I find myself in various ice cold arenas 12+ hours a week. The trick to staying warm when you’re in a cold environment is being prepared and dressing in layers.

The prepared part means you’re talking to a girl who has a Costco sized box of Little Hotties Toe Warmers sitting beside her desk. The layers part means I’m constantly dressing and undressing depending on what I’m doing.

In the change room helping Hockey Playing Son get into his gear? T-shirt and a sweater.

Sitting in the stands watching his game? T-shirt, sweater, parka, boots.

On the ice helping out at speed skating? Baselayer, t-shirt, hoodie.

In the stands watching Speed Skating Son after I get off the ice? Baselayer, t-shirt, hoodie, winter parka, boots, and Little Hotties.

This is not an exaggeration. My speed skating mom posse sees me in my sleeping bag parka shivering away–three hours in a rink and a girl gets cold.

So you can imagine I was thrilled when Columbia Sportswear wanted me to take part in their Trying Stuff campaign because (a) I need warm gear and (b) I’m always trying new stuff.

The first package they sent me contained a Columbia Omni-Heat Heavyweight Baselayer (which is what I now wear on ice when I help the first class at speed skating) and a pair of OutDry Kiry Neve Gloves (which I haven’t worn yet).

And the theory behind this is that I wear the gear while I “Try Stuff.”

Only I can’t get my mind off the fact that last weekend Speed Skating Son’s Club Mini-Meet was cancelled because there weren’t enough volunteers. It was pretty disappointing for the kids. The older kids always have a great time racing against their teammates and for the newest skaters it’s the perfect opportunity to compete in their first meet in a friendly environment.

The first thought that went through my mind when I got the email the meet was cancelled was, “Crap! I should have signed up to do more. It’s my fault.”

This would be the exact reason I’m always over-extended, but that’s a whole other story.

Listen, I get it. There are a million reasons not to volunteer. You’re busy, schedules conflict, there are younger siblings who need to be take care of. I’ll be the first to tell you I didn’t volunteer the whole first year Speed Skating Son was in speed skating (why yes, I do feel guilty about it, thankyouverymuch).

This year, I started helping out on the ice at speed skating. I had no idea what to expect when I volunteered to do it. I knew it would take a re-balancing of my schedule, a husband who would support it, and on occasion when my husband had to work, for my two boys to be patient and wait for me while I was on the ice.  What I knew for sure is that the younger kids in speed skating need more people on the ice to help keep them organized and if I could do it, I would.

It’s taken me a few weeks to feel comfortable out on the ice. I’m good at volunteering in the classroom but out on the ice is out of my comfort zone…this is something we’ve established in the three years I’ve been writing here, n’est–ce pas?.

But I love it. I love being on the ice with these kids. No matter how crappy I feel before I go on the ice, within minutes I’m in a good mood. These kids… THESE KIDS…they make me grin. Their stories, their jokes, their confidence, their smiles…it’s amazing.

So in the theme of “trying stuff” if you’re a parent and you can volunteer in a way that will help your child in a sport–not just speed skating, any sport–try it. Whether it’s a big position or small, you will both walk away smiling.

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Pictures Can Be Deceiving

On Friday the kids and I did the Trek or Treat run. It was our first so I opted to do the kid-friendly 1k run because I know my family and our limitations pretty well. But, apparently, not well enough.

The event was awesome–people dress up in costumes and you run at night on trails and through a cemetery while carrying a flashlight or wearing a headlamp type thingy. Plus there was pizza and hot chocolate. How could it be anything but awesome.

I mean, it looks like we’re having fun, right?

Trek Or Treat-small

In retrospect I should have brushed some bangs across my forehead.

Pictures can be deceiving.

We did have fun, up until Hockey Playing Son got frustrated and moody and it all sort of went downhill from there with our run being only moderately run and mostly walked due to my son being all “refuseous to keep up-eous” and it ended with a very silent van ride home.

Only if I posted that picture on Facebook everyone would be all, “That’s awesome!” or “How much fun is that!”

Because pictures can be deceiving.

Listen, I take my kids on a lot of outings. A lot. I’m very into giving them new experiences and having them do stuff outside their comfort zones.  Not to mention I have a husband who works weird hours so if I waited for him to do half the stuff we do, it would never happen.  And the thing is while many of our outings have been great, many others have gone to shit. In fact, I mentally prepare myself for an outing to go to shit so that I’m not surprised when it happens.

I’m a glass half full but likes to be prepared type of person.

Oftentimes you go on Facebook and see pictures of your friends and family on their outings and everyone is smiling and happy so you’re all, “I guess this going to shit stuff only happens to me.” But those pictures don’t tell the whole story just like my picture doesn’t. Who’s going to post a picture where their kids are melting down or the video where your children scream at you that you’re the worst mother even though you just spent five hours with them doing the FUNNEST THING EVER.

Who wants to say, I just spent $200 at African Lion Safari and spent most of the day yelling at my kids.

But you know what? It’s okay. Both are okay. It’s okay to post your fun outings where everyone is joyous and you are feeling like the most perfect parent ever and OMG I’m never going to forget this day, but it’s also okay to let other parents know your outing went to shit.

Because lives aren’t always picture perfect. Lives are messy. Sometimes children get frustrated, or their legs get tired, or it’s hot, or they didn’t want an orange juice they wanted apple.

Or, sometimes, even moms lose their shit.

PleaseStopTalkingToMeWhileITryToFindAParkingSpotInDowntownToronto.

It happens.

Shit happens.

But don’t ever let it deter you from the next outing. I get that it’s frustrating to put time, effort, and money into what you think is going to be an awesome day and have it all go in the crapper. But even in the crappiest of outings, you’ll have happy moments.

runBecause sometimes pictures aren’t deceiving.

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Couples’ Therapy Or How Thursday Is My Favouritest Night Of The Week

It felt good to get back on the ice on Thursday night but also shaky. It’s funny how quickly we can lose a skill, and by we I mean me. In the warm up I did a crossover, almost fell and was too scared to do another so I suppose it was serendipitous that one of our first drills was a centre circle crossover drill.  Serendipity is a bitch, but a bitch that got me to do crossovers so I’m not mad at her. 

On a different note, my husband is completely hot when he’s in his speed skating gear. HOT! As in smokin’. As in speed skating may not destroy our marriage like I first thought.

He’s also good at speed skating already which means he’ll graduate from the fast group to the faster group in no time and I’m not even jealous because I like my group of ‘fast’  skaters. We get out there and keep trying no matter what always offering encouragement and smiles, and have started referring to ourselves as the Little Rascals. Quite frankly, we’re all kinds of awesome.

What is also awesome is now I’m not all by myself with an entire house asleep when I get home from speed skating so hubby has a beer and I have some wine and it’s like our own little sporty date night.

It’s reconnecting through speed. Dudes, I may have just come up with a new kind of couples’ therapy.  I think I need to patent this idea.

 

 

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Back On The Ice

Tonight is my first night back at speed skating. It actually started last week but I couldn’t go because I was a bit preoccupied with shitting my pants. Thankfully my husband was there to represent *thumps chest twice*

Yes, Hockey Playing Husband is going to speed skate with the Masters this year which means he’ll be Hockey Speed Playing Husband or Speed Hockey Husband, or something. The thing is, I’m married to a dude who is really athletic and anything sporty he tries, he’s great at. It’s slightly annoying but I don’t tell him that because he could totally catch me if I tried to run away. He’s also very dedicated to his sportyism so it was no surprise to me when I walked into the kitchen earlier this week and he was squatting down beside the table. When I asked what he was doing he told me, “Working on my basic position” which is when I came to the conclusion that this is totally going to destroy our marriage.

Sadly E. won’t be coaching the Masters this year which means now I have no excuse to send her ridiculous emails about my ineptitude both on and off the ice but I probably will anyway so she doesn’t miss me too much.

Speaking of coaches, you can now refer to me as Coach Sharon because twice a week I’m now helping to coach the little ones at our club. Truth be told, I love the little kiddos. I love their determination and watching them grow and improve as skaters. I also love how most of them are already better than me.

Actually, I don’t love that.

So my goal this year is to do 500m in under 1:10 which would be shaving approximately a whole shitload off my current 500m time or if you want real numbers – about 15 seconds. To put this in perspective, 15 seconds in speed skating is like taking an hour off a half marathon time which I won’t be doing anytime soon either.

But tonight….tonight my goal is mostly to stay upright and to not silently curse when my husband is put it into the faster group.

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It Never Gets Easier

First of all, if I ran into you in a hallway at Blissdom on Saturday and seemed rude as I kept running right on by because I was heading for a washroom OR if at any time I spoke to you about *waves hand in circular motion in front of stomach* my intestinal troubles, I apologize.

The body has a way of acknowledging what your brain refuses to admit.

My brain was telling me I would be fine speaking in front of an audience. My stomach  gave my brain the finger.

If you were at Blissdom and went to the Power Hour session chances are you saw me on stage shaking to a degree with which you probably thought wasn’t humanly possible, only I knew it was possible because this is what my body does when I’m nervous. I know this about myself and while I don’t like it, I still force myself to do whatever it is I’m doing that’s scaring me so much because stepping outside your comfort zone is empowering although at the time when you’re right in the thick of things it feels more Pepto Bismol-ish than empowerment.

This is one of the things I said when I spoke and I mean it wholeheartedly because I don’t just talk the talk, I walk the walk.

Speaking in front of an audience is not new to me. Oh no, this gal has ridden in a few of those rodeos so I knew what to expect.

But who wants to listen to me go on and on and on about how speaking in front of an audience scares me and yet I do it anyway because it’s good to go outside your comfort zone and blah blah blabbity blah freaking blah.

Here’s what I will tell you…bear with me here.

Lately my husband has been running sprints. I did a lot of sprints while training for the triathlon. Running sprints, biking sprints, Tabattas… I formed a love/hate relationship with all of them. Sprints are awesome and horrendous all at once. Awesome because if you want to change your body shape, and get stronger/better physically, do sprints. Horrendous because they make you want to vomit.

One night after a particularly grueling session he said to me in an offhand sort of way, “When are these sprints going to get easier?” I think he meant it as a rhetorical question but I was all “I have an answer for this because my trainer told me! It never gets easier! You only get faster!” I was super proud of myself for knowing this and maybe buffed my nails on my shirt and then blew on them.

He thanked me for basically ruining his sprinting workouts forever and walked away. I guess some people really can’t handle the truth.

But you can, right? Because the truth is going outside your comfort zone may never get any easier no matter how many times you do it.

You may get stronger, faster, better. You may find ways to deal with your anxiety and you may even get it under control, but it may never get any easier.

I’m telling you this now because I don’t want you hunting me down next year and going “Hey Sharon! I keep going outside my comfort zone and it’s still as hard as it was in the beginning so now I’m going to punch you in the neck because YOU NEVER TOLD ME.”

I didn’t tell you because I only had six minutes on stage and I think I may have even gone over on my time because I kept babbling on about my shaking body and I was slightly worried that I was going to shit myself – so I’m telling you now.

No matter how many times you do something, it may never get easier.

And that’s okay.

I have enough Pepto Bismol for all of us.

 

p.s. This post is in no way affiliated with or sponsored by Pepto Bismol.

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Never, Ever, Ever Call My Bluff

So much happening over here and yet, NO TIME TO WRITE. I kept waiting for the unscheduled craziness of summer to end so that I could get into a schedule but now there is schedule but so much work and no time for fun writing, which makes me sad.

No what else makes me sad? That I only drink wine on weekends now and that by simply eliminating wine from my life I have lost three pounds.

In other news….we got a kitten. Not just a kitten but the cutest fucking kitten on the planet. I went to the pet store to get bird seed and he literally climbed the door of his cage and stuck his cute little leg through the bars as far as it would go as if to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me, Miss? You are supposed to bring me home.”

And he was right. I was all, “I AM supposed to bring you home.” But in a baby voice while I stroked his paw.

So I texted Hockey Playing Husband and asked him on a scale of one to ten how upset he would be if he came home from work and we had a brand new baby kitten to which he replied one. I wrote back that I thought he was confused and explained that one was not upset at all and he said he’d be fine with it. So I texted back “I like this new laid back Paul, he should get laid more.” And he said “Yes, he should.” To which I responded, “It makes sense – some pussy for some pussy.” 

And then I adopted a kitten.

Apparently my husband being all laid back was his attempt to call my kitten adopting bluff because when I called him and told him he needed to put $200 in my account right this very second because they don’t allow you to adopt using a credit card, his response was, “Awww…fuck.” But I kept a smile on my face and nodded like he wasn’t swearing at me because the adoption lady was watching me and I had told her that my husband was completely on board with the whole kitten thing which, for all intents and purposes, only 10 minutes previous to this call, he was.

On an excitement scale of 1 to 10, my kids registered a 72 kajillion when they got home from school because there hadn’t even been any talk about getting a kitten and then bam! KITTEN. Our other cat, unfortunately, decided to go with the “I am going to beat the shit out of you” scale–he registered about a 22 on that–which left me looking like I had gotten into a razor blade fight with a ninja and is why I’ve had a kitten living in my bedroom for the past two weeks.

But so worth it because, Oh My Gawd…

 

Excuse me, Miss? But I already lurves you so just take me home.
I get no work done now

 

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Posted in Speed Skating | 10 Comments

Victories Come In Inch Worms

Last night was our last night of dryland training. I didn’t participate much this year due to (a) pre-triathlon I didn’t want to hurt myself by tripping in a hole on the field while we were running and (b) post-triathlon I took a hiatus from anything that wasn’t laying, sitting, or drinking wine and eating chips.

But I did the last two sessions because Speed Skating Son really wanted me to, and when my kids actually ask me to do stuff with them I feel an obligation to do it. That my friends, is called Parenting By Guilt.

Last week’s class had myself and another mom doing what was called the Centipede or Caterpillar, or something. Actually, I’m pretty sure the name was “how to make two moms look ridiculous while trying to improve their upper body and core strength.”

caterpillar copyIn all fairness, the two of us chose upper body over lower body so us crawling across the field falls on our own sore shoulders. About midway through we stopped and changed the plan to alternating pushups. I did 15 then rest while she does 14, then she rests while I do 13. You get the picture.

E. looked over while I was in the reset portion of the alternating pushups and did the hands in the air gesture that’s known the world over as “What’s going on over there? Where are my Caterpillars”

I shrugged back with a raised eyebrow and sheepish grin, the gesture that signifies “Dude, we’re in our 40s. We feel like we’re more butterfly-ish.”

But life has a sense of humour because that Friday at boot camp I had to do something called the Inch Worm which was essentially the Caterpillar only in a parking lot instead of a field.

Life apparently wants to see me ass-end in the air, it’s like my husband that way.

And last night? Last night was a blast because on the last night we get to do “fun” things after we do the hard work.

For the record, I feel like during the speed skating straightaway drills we were doing I was actually lower than I was at this point last year. Part of me wants to believe that maybe I’m slowly inch worming my way along to being more athletic. The other part is well aware that this is quite possibly my own delusional thinking yet again, but a girl likes to dream.

Last year on our last night we did bear walks and crab crawls, followed by somersaults. This year it was more of the same, adults intermixed with kids, to create relay teams where we went head-to-head running backwards, crawling like a crab, and somersaulting our way to laughter.

When I was putting Speed Skating Son to bed last night and asked what his high point was, he said it was the dryland training. His low point was that it was the last night of dryland training.

So I’d like to end this with a big thank you to the two wonderful people who dedicated their time and effort to put together a program and trained the kids (and some of the diehard parents). For over three months you volunteered your time and that’s a pretty kick ass thing to do. It’s not just me that feels this way–all the parents think you rock the kazbah.

Signed,

Your Grateful Reluctant Inch Worming Friend

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Let’s Talk About My DNF, Shall We

So on September 1st I participated in the Ontario Women’s Triathlon. My goals were to ride fully clipped in and to finish. I managed to complete only one of those goals because I DNF’d within the first four minutes of the race.

When I do something I like to do it in a spectacular way.

For those of you who don’t know what a DNF is it means DID NOT FINISH. That’s in all caps because, well, you know….I DIDN’T FINISH.

The short story is I got kicked in the face about 150m out. Hardish right underneath the chin but not so hard I was hurt. I’ve been kicked in the face before but this was hard enough that I swallowed a bunch of lake water, lost my focus and started to panic. Twice I flipped onto my back and tried to get it together but I just couldn’t. I was having a panic attack in the middle of the lake. The lake that I had been swimming in before. The lake I knew I could swim.

But…it didn’t matter, I lost it and I couldn’t get it back so I waved down the lifeguard in the motor boat and he motored his way over to me. “Do you want to hang on the side of the boat for a few minutes or do you want in?” he asked.

I asked to get in the boat, emphasized with an expletive but ending with a very nice “please” because you want to be nice to the person who is hauling you out of the lake in the middle of your panic attack. For the record, there is no way to get into a boat from the lake gracefully. Then I took the boat ride of shame back to shore. The 30 second ride was filled with expletives muttered under my breath to myself.

Once on shore, a very nice woman in the sweetest way possible took my timing chip.

Then I stood there on the shore trying to wrap my head around what just happened. For a good two minutes I just stood there. And then I did the only thing I could do. I jogged to the transition area and finished the rest of the race.

I couldn’t not finish. Not after all the times I tell my kids to always get back up when they fall. I needed to complete it for me. I needed to know that I could keep going even though I completely fucked up the beginning.

When I got home and told Hockey Playing Husband, he hugged me and said, “That was probably the best thing that could have ever happened to you.” And as strange as it sounds, he was right because now I know.

I know that when I completely lose my shit, I can pull it together and keep going.

I know that I can continue even when I would not only not have a time, but that my name wouldn’t even be on the list. It would be like I was never there.

I know that there are some things you just need to finish, for yourself.

I know that if I hadn’t finished, I would have regretted it forever.

I felt awkward about getting the medal at the end because I didn’t complete the race. “Everyone else finished,” I told Hockey Playing Husband, “I didn’t. I didn’t really earn it. Maybe I should throw it out.”

“Maybe you should keep it to remind yourself that you can keep going even when you get kicked in the face,” he said.

So I did. Because sometimes a gal has to remember that getting kicked in the face is a good thing.

p.s. Don’t leave a comment about my kicked face because (a) it was over two weeks ago and (b) getting kicked in the face seriously didn’t hurt that much. It scared me more to drink the lake water.

p.p.s. Why yes, I did do the 20k bike ride entirely clipped in. I have now replaced my riding while clipped in fear with a deadly diseases acquired by drinking lake water fear.

p.p.p.s. For all the people who were cheering me on while I ran in the transition area, I apologize. You have no idea how much I wanted to stop and tell you all to stop cheering me on because I was just boated in.

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The Summer Of Zinning

Forgive me readers, for I have zinned. It’s been almost a month since I last wrote and in that time I also chardonnayed, pinot grigio’d, sauvignon blanc’d, and in one particularly crazed weekend, all of the above plus shots off a water ski.  There was duck-face involved and slow ninja-move, karate dancing to Pink Floyd. It wasn’t pretty.

duck lips

This is the duck face that shots built.

The point is, this was my summer of excess. Or actually, half a summer of excess because I managed to keep it together up until my triathlon in July at which point I came to a full halt working out wise and went full throttle on laying on lounge chairs, drinking wine and eating barbecued meat.

It was a gawd damn good summer.

I made a few halfhearted attempts at working out so I wouldn’t die in my September triathlon but when the weather is nice and your backyard patio is calling out for you to sit your padded butt in a padded chair and pass that ice cold wine please, it would be rude not to answer.

And rude I am not.

But now the kids are back in school which means I’m back on track – a sad, get my ass back in shape hurty track. I started boot camp yesterday and now all those muscles I didn’t use floating in a pool and laying in lounge chairs are all WTF Sharon.

But it was worth it. Every calorie-laden-glass-of-wine-potato-chip-campfire-smores-grilled-meat moment.

And I guess I’ll just have to remember those moments when I start training for my Olympic Distance Triathlon next year.

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Seven Reasons To Do A Triathlon

Total Body Fitness
You thought you were bad ass doing aerobics and lifting weights but now things are about to get real. You’re going to swim/bike/run/cross-train for this triathlon and work your body harder than it’s ever worked and become seriously fit in the process.

Your Body Will Do Stuff You Never Thought It Capable Of Doing
Ride a bike for two hours then get off and run faster than you’ve ever run? Swim for an hour followed by weights? Work out six days a week? You say to yourself, “I can’t do this crazy shit.”  Well guess what bad ass? You can, because it’s mind over matter and you’re going to learn you can push your body more than you think.

Number On Your Arm
When you pick up your race kit for a triathlon they mark your arm with your number in permanent marker. Wear that number proud. That number says “I trained my ass off to be able to race in this triathlon.” In fact, don’t wash that number off for a few days and bask in the glory of letting everyone around you know how bad ass you really are.

The Wetsuit
A wetsuit is like full-body spanx only spanx won’t help you float when you’re swimming. It’s basically spanx on steroids. Every wetsuit should come with a cape because you’ll feel like a god damn superhero when you zip into that neoprene.

The Cool People
You’d think that all the other people taking part in a triathlon would try to take you down. You’re the competition, right? Wrong. Triathletes are a cool bunch of people who  offer advice, give support and will even help you zip into your superhero wetsuit the day of the race. Make an effort to get to know them. You’re part of the tribe now – embrace it.

The Beer
Maybe you restricted your alcohol intake while training and maybe you didn’t but nothing will ever taste better than that first beer you have after you cross that finish line. Carbs and calories be damned. Bottoms up and enjoy the sweetest god damn ale you’ll ever drink. Then drink another one because you just finished a mother fucking triathlon.

Which brings me to

The Feeling When You Cross The Finish Line
You trained for months, maybe even years. You waited at the start for the horn to blow so you could swim your ass off in the water, ride the shit out of your bike, and run like the wind. You only get to cross that finish line for the first time once. Raise your arms in the air and smile or dig deep and run like you’re being chased by a god damn rabid bear. No matter how you cross the finish line, take a moment to savour the fact that you accomplished what you set out to do. You’re a triathlete and nobody can take that away from you.

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My Wake Up Call

Yesterday I participated in the Iron Girl triathlon as part of a relay team. My friend Robin biked, her friend Wendy swam, and I ran.

Robin KICKED ASS  actually doing the 20k 10 minutes faster than she thought she would.

Wendy KICKED ASS in her swim and the trek up the hill to the transition area.

I, on the other hand, got my ASS KICKED and had what was one of my worst 5k runs ever. It was so bad they didn’t even record my time.

sprint relay resultsHa! Just kidding. I don’t know why my time wasn’t posted. They have the time it took us as a team to complete the race but for whatever reason my race time wasn’t included.

This is a good thing because from as far as I can figure out, it took me about 33 minutes which is actually longer than it took me to run the 5k in the Toronto Triathlon Festival three weeks ago. You know, AFTER swimming 750m and biking 20k.

There were two factors that contributed to this fiasco of a run.

1) The heat: It was freaking hot and it was a non-shady route. Heat is my kryptonite because I don’t sweat a lot and tend to overheat. By the time I finished I was red as a tomato and as hot as picante. My relay partners were actually quite concerned with the state of my face but I assured them this was my typical colour after a hot run and then went and stood in a misting tent.

The second factor and the one that had the most bearing was:

2) I have been a sloth. Since the TTF I have had a couple of lame-ass runs and one session of dryland training. What I have enjoyed was a lot of wine and many hours sitting and yesterday I paid the price. That price was the lamest run I’ve had since January. My only saving grace is that you have to be really good at math to figure out exactly how lame.

So ya, I’m back at it because I have one triathlon left this season and I’d like to not drown, fall off my bike, or collapse.

You reap what you sow, people. And I just reaped myself an ass-kicking.

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I Needs Me A Running Partner

Months ago I signed up for the Island Girl Half Marathon relay taking place in September with a wonderful woman who I’ve never met in real life. This may seem strange but in my life it’s kind of normal.

Essentially the two of us would run 10.5k each and be home in time to polish off a burger and beer for lunch. I did the run last year with my friend Natalie and except for the wasp that tried to take me out, it was a wonderbar day.

Unfortunately I got an email from my yet-to-meet-in-real-life running partner and it looks like I will not meet her because she is injured and won’t be able to run it with me.

Which means…I NEEDS ME A RUNNING PARTNER.

So I’m looking for someone to run 10.5k with me on September 22nd. I’m asking with a pretty please AND a cherry on top.

Don’t leave me hanging like my kids do when I try to high five them.

Who’s in?

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Birthday Wishes, Thoughts, And Prayers

Yesterday was my birthday and I celebrated by hanging out with my kids. We went to Canada’s Wonderland where we went on rides, ate lunch, talked, walked, and laughed. This was followed by dinner at the Lone Star – con queso, yo! – where my kids giggled with delight when I given a ginormous hat to wear as seven servers sang a very loud birthday song.

lonestar hat

This morning I sit here and think of my friend who in less than an hour will be wheeled into an operating room to remove a large brain tumour that was found a month ago. She is sweet, and funny, bright and kind. She is the mother of two – two beautiful children a wee bit older than my own.

She is one of us.

I don’t know if prayers and keeping her in your thoughts will help her but I do know it can’t hurt.

I don’t usually ask for anything via my writing but today I am. Today, as you go about your business and do your daily things, think of my friend and send a positive thought her way.

And hug your kids extra tight.

Life can change in a second.

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Posted in Speed Skating | 8 Comments