Tag Archives: Miami Man

It has been a while…..

19 Sep

The prodigal blogger is returning.   This week I actually debated giving up the blog – it was a brief debate, with not much banter, just me muttering to myself about not having any time…  And the winner was………building suspense……..the blog.  Actually, the real winner is myself.   The blog is me being accountable so I must come back into the fold [inserting myself into fold here].          

So what happened last week that derailed me? 

Last week started out well – ran 8 miles last Sunday (see the last blog post) and lost a pound.    I think my first mistake was not posting a workout schedule.    This left me “open” – free to create (or not create) my schedule.  I ended up working out only 3 times this week.   However, what killed 2 workouts for me was my husband and the painful process of buying a new car.    I was getting phonecalls at work – “we need to go to XXXX dealership to see blah, blah”  and “come during your lunch hour to test drive XYZ”.       Purchasing a new car, ultimately a mini-van, was horribly stressful.   I won’t bore you with all of the details here – but I am the now the owner of:

 I am now an offical, card-carrying soccer mom.   Seriously.

The other big perk to buying an mini-van, beyond the status and space, is that I am able to cart my bike around easily.  So hopefully this will translate into group bike rides which I desperately need.    One of the other issues hurting my workouts is simply the sun is going down so darn early.      Moving on to other topics I need to share with you….

I am slightly freaking out about Miami Man and annoyed.    Last night I visited their website to get a better feel for last year’s race times to see what I should be shooting for (intimidating website – visit).  In the process I checked out other Athena women (I thought we could virtually bond over chaffing and jiggling).   Now, for those of you who don’t know,  Athena and Clydesdales (fun names…) are the classes for “big” people.   Big is simply defined in tri world for woman as 150 and above – so you could be 6 feet tall and 150 pounds and you are still Athena (I feel like I need to pound my chest when I say ATHENA).    Most women (from what I understand) who are not “big” – even if they are above 150 pick their age class.    So when I clicked on the pictures of the Athena women I stupidly expected to see larger women like me.  Ah, no….. Yes, they weren’t stick thin – yet only about 2-3 were overweight.     

What have I done?   I am going to stick out like a red wine on a wedding dress.   Not pretty and obviously not fitting in…

Yet – I am not totally freaking out about this still.  For some reason (despite my weight, slow times, and not having done a tri in a year) I somehow think it will be ok and I will come out with ok times.    I really don’t quite get where this optimism is coming from.  And I am so absurdly optimistic I am signing up for the NYC Nautica Triathlon in November (actually I am signing up for the lottery – God will decide that one for me).      My husband just shakes his head at me and asks “Are you having fun?”   I pause and think, “Am I?”  

Why yes, I AM HAVING FUN!   

And actually one big reason why I have been in a little of a funk this week is because I couldn’t work out.  

Today, as if I needed more proof that I would be the ultimate outlier in this triathlon of the TPs (thin and pretties) was purchasing a wetsuit and trisuit today.   God help you if you weigh more than 150.  To illustrate, if you weight more than 185 you can’t get a women’s wet suit (you have to order a men’s size).    My wetsuit (an XL of course) will be very very snug (if it fits at all).   Tri suits were also horrendous – most brands didn’t even make a size for me.   I found an XL or XXL on the Danskin website.      

My apologies for checking out – lets hope this is the last round of me neglecting blogging and myself.   Frankly, I also missed you all.    And thought of many of you this week.    So, here’s to a great week of training and life!

An hour run…..and finding hope:)

22 Aug

This is a short tale about finding hope.

Despite my best intentions, this blog really hasn’t spent much time documenting my efforts training for the full international length triathlon (Miami Man) that I have on November 14th.    Much of this I can attribute to my lack of consistent and positive workouts.  I simply haven’t been that serious about training.  And while some of this I can blame on procrastination, personal demons, and the allure of the BRAVO channel  – much of it I blame on circumstance and my personal situation.   My husband simply hasn’t been home to watch the kids and it has been hard getting a babysitter.   On a positive note – the tides are FINALLY changing.  My husband is on his last out-of-town trip and then, he is taking paternity leave.  Yes, he is staying home and taking care of the baby.   Besides (and most importantly) having great care for my newborn this also means that I will be able to train consistently and also make plans (his trips always change making planning for anything very hard). 

Lets get back to hope.  Lately, I have really questioned whether I could do the international tri.  The weight isn’t coming off quickly (not that I thought it would but a girl could  dream).  I also was (am) really struggling with running and biking (I haven’t even started to train for swimming).  To illustrate, I had gone, pre-pregnancy, from a slow ten minute a mile snail pace to a 11:20 minute earthworm pace; from running well over an hour to barely finishing thirty minutes.  My biking average has dropped from almost 20 miles an hour to 14.  Grim, Grim.  And then hope appeared unexpectedly at my doorstep today in the form of a glorious, wet run. 

My husband was leaving today (after being gone for the last three days).  I, of course, slept late. This left a small window to run.  And it was raining.  A lot.  When I started to run it was lightly “spitting.” At 5 minutes in it became tropical. It never stopped.  Little creeks of water on the street became roaring rivers, water lightly circling the edge of sewer grates became large whirlpools.   And I ran.  Sweet little puddles became the diving end of a pool and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to find a stretch of the street that wasn’t a pool.  And I continued to run.   The song Footloose somehow got stuck in my head,  a white Jeep sprayed me with a tidal wave of dirty street water  (I gave them a thumbs up opposed to a deserved middle finger – My sarcastic, “wet n wild” moment for the day), and a random, burly guy getting into this truck said as I passed, “You are hard-core. ”  My response to said, random man was – “apparently”.     Then it hit me – I am more committed to this that I give myself credit for.  If I am willing to run in this kind of weather, I really do want it – so I am going to fight for it.  

Moral of the story:  After an hour of consistent, non-stop, soaking wet running –  at the snail’s pace of 11-12 minute miles – it did, in fact, become apparent to me that I am (at least a little) hard-core.  This is my year of change.   And I am in better shape then I thought I was.  Bring on Miami Man.