Every single triathlete has been there. Ever single triathlete in history has been a rookie at least once. And many of these questions have crossed our minds. Now, whether all of us had the courage to vocalize any of the following questions is not documented but I can personally guarantee you that at least one of these questions have crossed all our minds at one point or another.
How do you pee when you have your wetsuit on? What???? You pee IN your wetsuit while you’re in it???
Or hold it until you get on your bike? Are you kidding me?
But I’m a GIRL!!!! I can’t just pull it out like that plus how do you do that in bibshorts?!?!?!
Even the best of the best (Paula Radcliffe) gets runner’s trots.
Snot rocket… seriously? Please, no. Please don’t tell me what that is. I already don’t want to know.
Many runners and cyclists encounter the need to rid a snot rocket especially when running or cycling outdoors.
Does everyone go out for hot and heavy makeout sessions during open water swim? Everyone comes back with hickeys after practice! What’s a wetsuit hickey?
Many times wetsuits chaffe around the neck area especially when swimming for long periods of time or if not fitted correctly. Try using Body Glide before your better half accuses you of cheating on them.
Why do my workout clothes reek AFTER I wash them???
Workout gear is made from synthetic fibers that require special detergent for the proteins excreted during vigorous exercise. Even if you double wash your clothes, the smell remains and seems to smell “spoiled” and tends to gets worse. Win Detergent is a bit pricey but gets the stench out of a workout.
BLISTERS and toe nails that fall off?? Oh God! That’s nauseating!!!
I have fallen in love with Balega socks. Matched with proper, well fitting running shoes and little swipe of glide between your toes, you’ll avoid growing painful blisters and losing toenails during training with these sweat wicking socks.
What the heck are saddle sores?
If you haven’t been on a bike since you were 12 or you’re attempting a century ride – or ANY ride for that matter – do yourself the favor of buying the biggest tube of chamois butt’r around and apply liberally to your private area. Seriously, every single spot, crack and crevice.
Hey! This lake is missing lane line markers!!! How are we supposed to swim straight without crashing into everyone around me?
Yaaaa well, I’m not gonna sugar coat this… You’re gonna get swum over. You’re gonna get hit, scratched, punched, kicked and you’re going to panic and get upset. But you’re still going to get to T1. And at the end of the race, you’re gonna wanna do it all over again!!!
What triathlon ickies have you encountered and what tips do you have to give?
When I was asked to be a group Captain for this year’s Ride of Silence, it took a whole of a quarter of a second to respond with a resounding YES! ABSOLUTELY! YOU BETCHA!!!
While we didn’t have the almost 600 cyclists in attendance like we did last year, the group was large enough to stop traffic all around town and make a very loud statement with our silent ride. We passed by two white ghost bikes. Two that were not on last year’s route. Their families stood on stage and said profound words of wisdom for all of us to reflect upon and in the audience were countless cyclists who were hit by distracted drivers, survived and were ready to mount their bikes once again for this annual display of honor and remembrance.
That white bike you see by the road fastened to a light pole or sign signifies that the life of a cyclist was taken during a bike ride. Many times, if you get the chance to speak to a cyclist, you’ll begin to understand that the bond between the cyclist and their steed is unlike any other relationship between a human and an inanimate object. It is almost like the two become one. Neither can do what they were designed to do without the other. The white bike is a ghost bike waiting patiently for it’s owner to return to it so that they can finish the ride they started.
Weird thing about ghost bikes is that way back before I was even running, I worked at a television station and one of my projects was an awareness campaign with a 15 year old boy, Jake Ramon, who produced an award winning documentary about bicycle safety in the Rio Grande Valley after the tragic loss of Roy Carlson on Trenton road in McAllen. Jake’s mother is a cyclist with Team McAllen. Jake’s father is the big brother of one of my best friends when we were in elementary school. God seemed to have planted the seeds earlier and I just never quite saw the signs to what I was about to embark on.
Prior to becoming a cyclist, I drove my car with my phone texting all the time. I saw the white bikes by the road but never really paid much mind to them.
When you know better, you do better.
And that’s why I’m so vocal. I want all of us to know better so we can be better. And I know I’m not alone in this.
Me riding my “Mimi” custom Felt bike from Wally’s Bike Shop and wearing my sunflower trisuit from http://triflare.com/
After last weekend’s disappointing DNF at CapTexTri, I entered the Duathlon last minute with the promise to myself to just finish it.. not for time… not for anyone… not for any cause… not for glory or “I told you so” or “I knew you could do it” or even the whispers of “I knew she wouldn’t beat me.”
I needed to finish this so that I could prove to myself that I was not going to give up. Still sick, I pushed through.
My legs felt heavy during the run. I hadn’t run like I was supposed to so I expected this to hurt… but I didn’t give up. Didn’t stop once. But boy oh boy all that mucus that had accumulated over the last few weeks all of a sudden wanted to come out… and it did!!!
I wore my brand new beautiful Triflare sunflower one piece triathlon suit. I got so many compliments (although I wish I was 20 years younger and had the body of Alex when she wore her Triflare trisuit in Brownsville). I loved it!!! Well, until I tried to figure out how to get OUT of it in a hurry while running straight past T1 and onto the bathrooms while asking the race volunteers to unzip me!!!
What happened in the bathroom is seriously TMI. Don’t even ask. All you need is a good imagination.
I spent a good 10-15 minutes in there.
I walked out and found another fellow runner who was relaying and asked her to zip me back up.
I looked over to transition and saw just three bikes left racked… including mine. “Eh… might as well be the last one out and enjoy this one.”
What????? Is my inner sarcastic voice having a nice day????
Well, alright then! Let’s go have a great time!!!
I gently took Mimi off the bike rack and maneuvered her to the mount line. Stroked her seat, said “You ready Momma? Let’s go!” Jumped on and the fun began!!!
That feeling came back and boy did I need it!
I remember Sissy saying that she wanted me to find a way to deal with stress in a healthy way because she knew things were only going to get harder on me. She was right and I did.
I remember every single person’s advice along the way. I remember every helping hand and loving gesture from supporters, donors, sponsors, coaches, friends and family. Best of all… when I’m riding my Mimi, I forget all the pain, sorrow and anger I hold inside and feel more alive and happy than I’ve ever felt before.
So I understand what Mike Padgett said a few weeks ago about how if he died riding his bike, he’d die happy. As much as it hurt to think that it could happen like that, I understand that feeling. I hope it doesn’t happen like this but if it does… I’ll die happy.
And as promised… the latest from the media regarding Eddie Arguelles
For two years I’ve busted my butt pushing my body’s limit and taking it places I’ve never thought possible. I’ve caught myself saying several times that there are no more limits anymore. Nothing is impossible.
Getting healthy —- no limits! I can do this!
Losing weight — no limits! I can do this!
Curing cancer — no limits! I can do this!!
Running 7 marathons — no limits! I can do this!!
Cycling 108 miles up a 5,000 foot mountain — no limits! I can do this!
5 triathlons…wait, but I don’t know how to swim… Who cares! Learn! No limits!!! I can do this!!!!
Ride my bike a couple of miles with Eddie through the streets of my hometown…. Uh yeah… See… I can’t do that. I’m limited. I’m not limited by legal limits because I’m legally allowed to ride my bike in the street but the ignorance, lack of respect and inexperience of automobile drivers limits my ability and now my life longevity.
Seems I got a big wake up call this week.
See, for a while I lived my life without limits. And IT WAS AWESOME!!!!!
But sitting in a courtroom this week gave me all new insights on limits… Legal limits.
All this time I’ve busted through perceived limits and countless finish lines but I see now that there are lines that no human being SHOULD cross. When a child of God, a fellow human being, crosses that line with complete disregard to all moral, ethical and legal limits, it makes me wonder if there is still another path to run (or ride) in front of me.
As I enter for the first time the Capitol of our great nation attempting to convince our elected leaders of necessary change that must take place in order for cancer treatments and possible cure for cancer to be both affordable and accessible, I am reminded of legal limits once again.
I find myself racing along a path with lines that can be pushed one way and limits that restrain in another way and lives at stake all around us.
I sat with women from all over Texas today sharing our stories of cancer. How we’ve all lost children and how we’ve lost jobs and how time had been stolen from our lives because of cancer. Each story was profound and each struggle prolific and each woman still had a smile on her face after sharing it with me… Just like Momma used to do.
And then I met Ethan.. A reality TV star. You would think his celebrity status would diminish the harshness of his struggle, or his professional soccer talent would hinder the brutality of his disease or even think… Nah, he’s too handsome to go through such pain and suffering. But cancer is not prejudice. It picks whoever it wants and it usually picks the good people. It picked his dad. He lost him to cancer when he was just a boy. And cancer picked on him, too… Twice.
Ethan was well known for his long hair but insisted on being in control of his cancer and shaved himself bald. He was still very striking. And then he shared a video diary of himself while on treatment.
He cried while watching himself as if the suffering all came back to him that very instant. He never said it but insinuated that there were moments that he didn’t think he could make it… And moment that he didn’t want to. And then he looked up with years in his eyes as he admitted the reality … “And it can come back again.”
The second time cancer hit him, he said “It hit me in the gut.” He said he had to do something …. SOMETHING. It was his “do something moment”. I know that feeling all too well.
My whole family had been effected by cancer. It will never ever be the same again. I am hit in the gut in a way that you may not understand but I promised y’all is be candid. And just as Ethan was incredible candid with me tonight, I’ll share this tonight with y’all….
I feel guilty. I feel guilty for not being chosen. I feel guilty for being healthy, for taking my health for granted all these years, and for NOT going anything until it was too late to enjoy it with those who are now gone.
There will be lines that can never be crossed. There will be finish lines that I hope will never end for me. Countless I hope! There will be limits that I hope to break and limits that I hope will never ever be touched.
Do you know what your limits are?
Oh Sissy… What a journey you’ve chosen for me!
*ps — I dreamt Donny last night. He was his six year old self sitting with me in front of the tv in the living room in the house on Samano watching Saturday morning cartoons together… As we always did. Can you guess what was on the tv? Can you guess what we were singing? #schoolhouserock #imjustabill
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving” – Eddie Arguelles
Mike Padgett said this earlier today: “We had a large turnout at 5 AM this morning for a memorial ride for my best friend, Eddie Arguelles. Lots of emotional, spiritual, and physical support for friends and family. Three cities supported the ride with police escort. Local bike shops sent SAG vehicles. Cycling clubs and groups, competitive and social riders bonded together to show the love that we all share for Eddie. Eddie did a lot of blogging and even wrote about “Memorial Rides”
Eddie wrote this in his blog: There is a willful species in the world that carries with it nothing more than a simple code of ethic. It is true of every single one in this species, persistence! You will never keep a cyclist down, you will never break the bonds that are established in our crazy little groups of suffering, you will never dull down the sharpness of our camaraderie, you will never break our spirit, you will never beat us, we always win!
Thursday, April 24, 2014, exactly one week – almost to the minute – of Eddie Arguelles’ fatal hit-and-run, hundreds of cyclists, close friends, co-workers and family gathered at Starbucks in solidarity for Eddie, showed support for the cycling community, and collectively gathered to discuss what can be done to minimize the number of auto/cycling/pedestrian incidents in the Rio Grande Valley. We finished the ride that Eddie wasn’t allowed to. And we did so with a little underlying fear inside a good number of us, with a whole lot of pride in all of us and reflecting upon all the wonderful memories that we shared with Eddie.
I watched in awe as the crowd of supporting cyclists grew and grew and grew. I have to admit that I giggled to myself for just a bit as I remembered the term “militant cyclists” that was used the day before in a response to the letter to the editor in a local paper.
“Is this what he meant by ‘militant cyclists’?” I asked myself as I witnessed each rider hug and console each other with invigorating calmness. No, we are NOT militant cyclists. But we certainly are NOT pushovers either.
For decades I remember the Valley being labeled as backwards and ignorant and uneducated and lazy. Now, I find myself in the midst of community evolution. A horrific tragedy happened and we have all learned from it and are carefully and quietly and intelligently discussing methods of change, playing devil’s advocate and observing all sides of the issue. This is what gives me hope. And we all know what happens to those who do not change. And change IS happening. We are now more forward thinking, intelligent, highly education and active in lifestyle and community than ever before. Sure… there are still those who do nothing else but hangout in the neighbors garage and float a keg, smoke some weed, and have nothing productive to offer the world. But that doesn’t mean that this latter population is the majority. Clearly by the responses published here (on the link below), the ignorant WILL NO longer be ignorant to the issue.
The 5AM Wake Up Riders efficiently and effectively organized THE most mesmerizing bike rides of our life time. We all met together once but discussed details as they developed on almost an hourly basis over the last week via group text and resulted in a fine tuned event with a very loud message.
“The event is a way to keep Eddie’s memory alive, and rather than focus on the tragedy, it is a way to focus on the way he lived his life.” Ramon Hermida
“In my opinion, this is the best way to counteract the disgusting act of drinking and driving. It demonstrates the beauty of clean living.” Ileana Garcia-Spitz
I arrived to the ride a little early to the Thursday ride, just as I did last week and waited in my car until about 4:20a.m. This is my speculation but I’m pretty sure that after learning the details of Eddie’s hit and run, he was hit right about this time exactly one week ago from that moment. I took that time to reminisce and be grateful for all that I had and had been given.
Because of the large number of cyclists that were predicted to come, we were directed to the Lowe’s parking lot next door as to not over crowd the Starbucks parking lot where we all normally gathered as the starting point for our ride. I unloaded my embarrassingly dirty orange “Mimi” bike, I was immediately greeted and blessed by Big John, the same man who greeted and blessed me at my very first bike ride event ever… Arbor Day 2012. That was a great sign. I took a good look around.
Wow! So many cyclists! This early in the morning??? We must be nuts! Nah, we must have all been really touched by this man to all be up this early in the morning and not filled with anger but actually overflowing with love and respect.
I made my way through the crowd from Lowes to the entrance of Starbucks. I leaned my bike against the wrought iron fence and immediately began scanning the area for the best light and angle to capture the moment and the enormous crowd.
“Are you preparing for the selfie?” someone asked.
“Yes, yes I am.” I replied. This one was going to go down in the history books. I had to get it right… for Eddie. I couldn’t let the light hearted part of the ride disappear because someone took Eddie from us. His light hearted humor must remain and this was the only way I knew how to keep it there. “Andale Myssie!!! We’re waiting for the selfie!!!” he would yell at me jokingly. I had to get it right. Andale.
I was given the bullhorn and Monette, Eddie’s widow, took the speaker. I watched and listened in pure awe as she gracefully thanked the crowd for their support. Her voice cracked and her lips quivered but her eyes looked straight into the hearts of the cyclists in front of her. Her strength and bravery and stoic beauty was enchanting. I stood by her, completely still unable to breathe, holding the bullhorn with tears gushing and mocos running out of my nose so very thankful that all the cameras were BEHIND me unable to capture me in the emotional state I was in (or so I thought).
Eddie Palacios led us in prayer for safety and thanks for all our blessings and then Mike Padgett announced the 5AM Group expectations and safety reminders. He went over the course route and then the floodgates opened when he read us a quote from Eddie Arguelles’ blog. (I posted it above) And even the President of the University came and spoke to the group.
“Today, all of you ride in his memory,” Dr. Nelsen said. “Somos familia. We are a family. Be safe. Keep him in your heart. Keep Monette in your heart. And remember, this is about Eddie, and this is about us all being part of one big family.”
And then it was my turn… I felt my throat immediately go dry. I had explained to the crowd that Eddie had me take silly selfies of him and I and anyone else who rode with us that day after every ride… and I wasn’t about to break that tradition that he and I enjoyed. However, I did add something new, a little bit of me and my Momma. I asked the crowd to do two selfies. One of all of them just being normal and the second with their hands raised up in the air with the hand signal that says “I love you” to Eddie. AND THEY ALL DID.
And then we all rode off… together.
I waited to the very end, like I usually do. It was completely and totally surreal. The whirr of the 400-some bicycle tires churning in unison over asphalt was the hymn of unity, remembrance and honor. I turned the corner onto Jackson Road going South and took my eyes up off the tire in front of me and said just one word… ‘WOW’
The sight in front of me was nothing short of spectacular. From Highway 107 (aka University Drive) all the way South on Jackson Road to FM495… pretty much as far as the eye could see were flashing red lights of bicycles, two by two, all along the bike lane for miles upon miles in the velvet black of night.
Three cities, three police departments, almost three hundred cyclists (the numbers are still in question) united together for Eddie, for what he loved to do, for what he wanted his family to do, for what he had hopes of his community embracing… for the love and benefits of cycling.
The community has spoken. And the conversation has just begun. About a year ago, I had posted that I was warned about the various bike gangs and how territorial they were about their members, their distances, their paces, their bikes… and I admit I saw it then… but not on that morning. There were no gangs. There was only a “species”. The one species that Eddie spoke of in his quote.
I find myself now in the beginnings of an enormous wave of change. It will anger some. It will empower many. It will be necessary or it will be our own fault for allowing our world to morph into IDIOCRACY (yes, just like the movie).
RunMyssieRun 