Felicity Part Two

Sprouts in my front yard. They emerged after harsh times, and so can I.

So the "Four Things" meme is going around on Facebook at the moment, and one of the items is "List four places you'd rather be right now."

And for all my bitching and moaning as of late...there isn't another place I'd rather be.

So I left it blank. All four slots.

I have a feeling this PhD will turn out like my first Ironman: long and painful, but I was happy to be there and smiled almost the entire time.

Felicity, indeed.

Felicity (n.):

1. the state of being happy, esp. in a high degree; bliss: marital felicity.
2. an instance of this.
3. a source of happiness.
4. a skillful faculty: felicity of expression.
5. an instance or display of this: the many felicities of the poem.
6. Archaic. good fortune

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This is actually the third version of this post. The two previous versions somehow veered off into two separate and distinct tirades about the various ways I do not enjoy some of the people and circumstances of my doctoral program. A choice (but abbreviated) excerpt:

"If you want a life-enriching educational experience, where there is joy in learning new things for their own sake, then get yourself a Master's degree. If, however, you would like a daily assault on your self-worth and to be surrounded by people so consumed with status that they can't stop posturing for even one second to realize that the most necessary first step in real learning is to admit you don't know, then consider pursuing a PhD."

And that's not even the worst of it. Yikes.

Here is what I really want to say:

Last week I embarked on a journey through all four seasons of Felicity. If you aren't familiar with this show, it's basically the story of a curly-headed girl finding herself through her college years/early adulthood. There is a scene in one of the first season episodes where Felicity is watching Ben (!) run. She ponders the fact that he is good at something he really loves. That is what the PhD business was supposed to be for me. Triathlon, too.

Long story short: I'm am extracting myself from all the falderol to concentrate on my own stuff, my own joy, my own reasons for being in the program and in the world. When I'm focused and committed (read: not distracted by nonsense), I am good at this school thing and I love it. I've been wasting a lot of my time spinning my wheels and concerning myself with other people's garbage and shooting myself in the foot in my attempts to resist. I have found some great people here who energize me both intellectually and emotionally, and they are the ones I will let into my life and on whom I will expend my emotional energy.

So I'm putting the "break" in "spring break." This post marks the break I am making with the bad habits and negative energy. I'll use the week off from school to gain some momentum so I won't be easily derailed once classes begin again.

That's it.

Done.

Over.

Next.

A *New* New Leaf

*rubs eyes*

Who turned on the lights?

Maybe it's because I've been watching too much Intervention, but after the hellish week I had last week (in which I worked my ass off and still turned in one steaming pile of crap after another) and a generally underwhelming embarrassing semester altogether, something's gotta give.

I remember when I used to be good at things. Like, really good at things. And I used to LOVE school. And I used to blog regularly. What the hell happened?

I honestly don't know. But here's what I'm going to do about it:

Endorphin therapy.

Now that the 140.6 monkey is off my back, I'm going to work my way back up from the shorter distances and get faster. Some call it "training." I call it "what you're supposed to do instead of showing up on race day, undertrained, and hoping for the best."

But really, I'm in it for the side-effects: more energy and ability to focus. I think that'll fix a lot of other stuff that's been dragging in my life.

Stay tuned!

It's Official!

...because online quizzes never lie.

What female superhero are you??? Wonder Woman! You're an original. A champion of justice and able to keep up with the best of male superheros, you attribute your power to amazonian origins. You`re a powerful, independent woman, and you`re not afraid to show it.

Click Here to Take This Quiz

Wind Blows but Doesn't Suck

Okay, we all know how much I hate biking in wind. Today I took off for my 12-mile loop, wind was blowing about 17-18 mph which I was determined to endure just to prove a point.

I was mentally prepared to slog it out through the cross- and headwinds, which I did for about 7 miles. And then it turned into a tailwind (though I didn't know it at the time, but I knew something was up when I was approaching town again after only 40 minutes). I managed a 12 mph pace in the headwind and bumped it up to 15.1 when all was said and done.

Here's the thing: I'm pretty sure that in real life I can only ride about 12.5 mph right now. Don't get me wrong, I still pushed those last 5 miles...but it's all just a little bittersweet knowing that I had "help."

Maybe it was a little reward for getting out there anyway.

You never have the wind with you - either it is against you or you're having a good day. ~Daniel Behrman, The Man Who Loved Bicycles

*shrug*

In the Interest of Full Disclosure

Okay, okay. I give.

My friends from California e-mailed to set the record straight on the whole Jermaine Stewart debacle:

"Krissy,
I don't know what the bet was, but I absolutely remember that song. Ana asked me about the "don't take our clothes off" song this morning and I was able to remember it and sing the chorus right away. What I didn't know until I saw the video just now is that the song was done by a male. The voice pitch and lyrics all seem like a woman's singing. And seriously, what kind of man drinks cherry wine and tries to talk a woman out of stripping???
- Scott"

"Krissy-
Last night when you called, I couldn't remember this song, but this morning in the shower I started singing it out of the blue and remembered it quite well. I have a terrible memory and can't say when I first heard it but I remember hearing it in junior high (TX) and maybe even freshman year (FHS). What was the bet about?
Ana"

Dang.

I Am My Own Nemesis

So I got up, had breakfast, got all dolled up in my running outfit and gathered my things: sunglasses, visor, race number, safety pins, gels. With my hands full, I told the dogs to be good little babies and then closed the door behind me.

Notice anything missing from that list?

KEYS! Sonuva!

That's right. I locked myself out and by the time the locksmith worked his magic, I missed the race by 10 minutes. What an idiot I am.

I managed to pull a hip flexor last week and NOT stay off of it (beautiful weather + lure of ultimate = painful ultimate). SOOO, it is probably a good thing for me to have missed this race to give myself a little more time to heal. (I've got a bag of ice tucked into my shorts right now.)

Missing this race means I must do the Des Moines half-mary in a couple weeks -- and I should learn the lesson of staying away from sprinting sports for a little while.

Double-dog dang. :(

Ownership

Well, Tea gone and done did it: in her comment on my last post she said she'd have to go back and "catch up" on my blog. Immediately, I mentally summarized what I thought she might find.

Aww crap.

In my unpacking adventures I came across the scrapbook/journals I put together for each of the two years I've been at this triathlon thing. They are nothing more than two small binders full of the same thing that's on my blog:

"I'm really gonna do this. No really, this time I mean it. I'm really gonna train."

Then: "Um, so here's why I haven't been training."

and

"Wow. I was super-slow and miserable at this race. Probably because I haven't been training. But next week, I'm really gonna get serious. And here's an impossibly unrealistic race goal to boot."

I found these binders last week and then took mental inventory of all the bloggers who are in roughly the same place...and I got really mad at myself for all the time I've been wasting, but mostly for all the lame excuse-making. GeekGirl (and others) and I started triathlon at about the same time. Today, she is in the healthy weight range, and well on her way to an Ironman showing. I am not. And I DNF'd.

When I started, I only had 7 pounds to lose to be back in the healthy range. Since then, I've gained even more weight -- putting on the bulk of it (15 lbs.) since last October when I decided to train for Ironman. I even got to be Athena weight (which is pretty serious on my 5'1" frame).

It's very tempting to point out my increases in endurance, but that would just be one more act of denial. So I'm not going to do it. Turns out, I'm my own mortal nemesis.

I will simply end by saying that I have my goal for this week, and I will blog about it only when I reach it. You've all got to be pretty sick of reading about all my big plans and grand schemes. Frankly, I'm sick of proclaiming them to the world and then failing.

SO...join me next time when...well...no promises. Join me next time when I post another blog entry.

Cornman Tri 2007

I got to meet Duane and his family! What a swell guy! I even got to see him quite a bit on the course, which was a nice boostie on what was a really challenging day.

Time for some more math:

Moving - 3 weeks of training + the Hill of Death + more hills + wind = Ugh Fest '07

...and a finish time of 2:12 -- on a SPRINT!

All right, I get it. I have to train.

Not Just a River in Egypt

In the days leading up to this thing, I was in a lot of denial. even as I packed my stuff (the night BEFORE!!) I still didn't believe I was actually going to go through with it. And the next morning, as I was loading the car and driving away...even as I set up my transition area, I still could not believe that I was going to participate in this race. It wasn't until I was in the water getting pummelled (for the first time ever) that I accepted my fate. "I guess I'm doing this," I told myself, finally.

Swim ~12 minutes

Ugh Fest begins. This is the first time I've done an open water swim that was actually crowded. Even at IMAZ I had plenty of space to just SWIM. I spent a good portion of the first 100m doing a breast-stroke/sculling/treading water because I got myself stuck in a clump that moved just slightly slower than me.

Bike ~1:17 (times are approximate because my HRM does not have a lap function -- WTF?!)

I passed Duane just before the Hill of Death. Lots of people walked their bikes up this thing. I'm proud to say that I stayed on my bike and pedaled the whole thing. Apparently even that is an accomplishment becuase I saw a woman about 10 yards ahead of me just completely fall off of her bike and into the tall reeds (you know, when you're clipped in and going _really_ slow and you just lose it?).

Between the hills and the wind (which I won't complain about because it was the only thing keeping the heat at bay) I went slow enough to reacquaint myself with the color green (lots of it, as far as the eye can see) after a decade in the desert's hazel beauty. I also got acquainted with Iowa's aroma: earthy, rich...with a splash of swampy and a hint of pig farm. In wine terms: not a great finish.

Run ~43 minutes

Then I went on a leisurely, 5K stroll. I don't think I can really call this a run, because I only ran about a third of it. But here's something amazing: even walking, I managed to pass someone. Short and stumpy with stubby legs PASSED a guy!

Not Easy Being Green

There should be a sign at the Iowa border saying you are about to enter the world's largest corn maze, and that you had better have a map. The highways here often overlap in some sections...I got lost coming home! SONUVA!

Why I REALLY Tri...

So I dabbled in a little celebrity look-alike this morning...

First, I put in a picture from what I call my Prime Time (right after I moved to Seattle from DC and was in the best shape of my life). Here's what I got:



Not bad...these are all very pretty ladies...more than enough to make a girl feel good about herself.

I should have quit while I was ahead.

But no, I went and used a more recent picture from here in New Mexico:



Oh dear. We are not in CuteGirl-Ville anymore. Seriously, Regis Philbin?!!?!

What. The. Mother. CRAP?!

That's it. I'm going for a run.

Eureka At Last!

Last night's post on Project Procrastination was a much-needed wakeup call. There are so many amazing athletes out there who are actually overcoming formidable obstacles while I'm here whining about how lazy and unmotivated I am. Despite reading Duane's blog for a while now, and having a general idea of what he has set out to do, only today did I find his feature on RaceAthlete.com I can't believe I had overlooked this for so long!

For inspiring stories of people who have dug deep inside themselves to pursue triathlon (or any dream, for that matter), one need only peruse the blogroll at RaceAthlete.com. Like me, many of these people took a little inventory and were unsatisfied with the state of affairs. Unlike me, they took on the task of transformation and are really working to see it through. If I am going to know even a morsel of success, I'm going to have to figure out what the difference is between myself and them. What is it that gets them out the door, into the pool, onto the bike, or out of the snack aisle? More appropriately, what is it that keeps me on the couch, out of the pool, off my bike, and covered in snack shrapnel?

After some thought, I think I've figured it out. My pursuit of triathlon has been awash in the Seven Deadly Sins of Triathlon (okay, six):

Pride: Yes, I want to "Brag for the rest of my life" about Ironman. I like it that the mailman delivers my Triathlete magazine each month and sees the bike rack on my car and is probably really impressed because he's never actually seen me. I like it that I have this tri blog and I can pretend I'm some sort of athlete. And frankly, I am pursuing the ridiculous and superficial goal of reclaiming the cute girl that I was at 19. Talk about denial: I was even a little relieved that I DNF'd at IMAZ because I didn't want my finish line photo to immortalize my current weight. (Notice there are no current or recent pictures on any of my blogs showing me from the waist down.)

Gluttony: It seems that everytime I start to get into a groove with my training, I fall victim to the SnackDown. Oct 15, 2006 was supposed to be Day One of my IMAZ training. What did I do? I put on 15 pounds of snack weight. Most recently, I turned over this new leaf...and then ordered The Big Feed. I'll get you yet, Gluttony Monkey!

Envy: I swear to God, if GeekGirl gets one more cool tri toy...

Lust: See Envy.

Greed: Well, this move to Iowa is about to cut my income in half...Really, between the gear, travel, and registration fees, this is not an activity that will facilitate an amassing of wealth, so I guess I've dodged this bullet.

Wrath: Yesterday, I stooped so low as to drag all the positive, supportive bloggers to engage in this cardinal sin. (I'm sorry. Can you forgive me? For what it's worth, it helped.)

Sloth: We all seem to have our own brand of struggle with this one. Some battle their sloth by ridiculing it. I will admit that I have missed workouts because I spent the day reading tri blogs about swimming, biking, and running, (or comedy about various foibles while doing these things) instead of getting off my butt to ACTUALLY swim, bike, and run--further evidence that the Sloth Monkey's been whispering sweet Do-Nothings in my ear for too long. Nike-style is the only way to combat this: Just Do It. As simple and difficult as that.

So for all my jabber-jawing, I never stopped to figure out what my One Thing is -- why I'm REALLY doing this. I've thought about this for a while, too, and this is what I've come up with:

As an only child, I constantly vacillate between my fear of being alone in the world and cherishing my independence and self-reliance. Triathlon is where these two meet. A DNF is a solitary experience, and so is a finish line, podium, pass late in the run, etc. -- they stay with you long after everyone else has moved on, and only you know how it happened. On bad days, you confront yourself; there's no one to blame, to lean on, or to carry you (or to turn off the eff-ing wind). On good days, you get to feel the wind in your hair or water rushing over you -- self-propelled swiftness, speed and freedom. Self-reliance at its best. This is where today's post by Stronger gave me the nudge I needed. She reminded me that I really do enjoy all three sports and all that I'm missing when I avoid them.

So I think I've found it: Triathlon lets me experience the joys of independence and self-reliance. It also helps me confront my despair at the thought of feeling alone in the world. It lets me know that if I ever were alone in the world -- I can handle it. I can keep pedaling, keep breathing, keep going. I can also find friends on the road who are like-minded and supportive -- strangers who will give me a "Stay strong, Krissy" when I need it most.

I know that this is it. My One Thing. (It must be, because I've been crying for the last 15 minutes.)

All this time, I had been using triathlon to run away from my life...when the best it has to offer is me.