Archive for rio grande valley

The Warrior inside her

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 5, 2014 by runmyssierun

The very first Team in Training Triathlon Team practice happened on Saturday. We ran just a couple of miles. I don’t really like this about me at all anymore but I’ll be honest. I didn’t really think that was a workout for me. I run a mile as a warm up and another mile as a cool down regularly.

Isn’t that amazing???? I feel so pretentious, proud and guilty at the same time for this!!! Whodathought a few years ago that I, the middle-aged overweight anti-gym bunny sweat is icky girl, could run a whole mile without stopping?!?!?!?

And then Monday came around… it was dark, cold and drizzling rain. I wasn’t really prepared for the wetness so I wore all the wrong stuff. Thank goodness I carry extra gear in my trunk and had my trusty orange wind and water resistant jacket from German!!! It made all the difference in the world.

Coach “W” called out our workout to the group, “Lets go 4 to 5 times over the hill. That should be about 2 miles.”

Ugh! 2 miles again!!! *ya, that’s my attitude that needed some spanking

Off we went! I was, as always, the last to run up. I’m ok with that. I couldn’t hear my music and the rain was accumulating all over me… especially in my hair!!! It made the run more uncomfortable than I expected. But wait… oh… oh no… it’s not the rain that made this uncomfortable for me… it’s my… oh … oh noooooo!!!

Boom! I sprinted across that hill and luckily yelled out to Sarah’s mom who was cheering me on and trying desperately to take a photo of me – I couldn’t smile. “Tell Coach that I need to go to the bathroom! I’m going to Embassy Suuuuuuiiiiiites!!!!”

Whew!!! I made it just in the nick of time. TMI?

Sorry. I’m candid and tell it like it is. Sometimes when you run… pee happens. That’s the truth.

I returned back to the gang and continued my run and obviously the last one to run in because of my kidney explosion.

We gathered back together in a circle to stretch. Coach “W” then said something that snapped me back into reality…

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She said that along with coaching us through these next few months of physical training, she would also incorporate some mental training. “W” clenched her fists and pounded her heart as she said “When I speak of ‘spirit’, I don’t mean religion… I mean the inner spirit in all of us. I have a warrior in me.”

Our coach is a cancer survivor. She told us of a childhood memory she had of her being a warrior and how she ran around in her backyard from one side of the fence to the other as her dogs followed her and she imagined them being wolves. She giggled for a while as she reminisced. “We all have a warrior inside of us.”

“We need to remember WHY we are doing this.”

BLAM!!!

2 miles is 2 miles… and it actually ended up being 3! I must never scoff at that ever again. It wasn’t that long ago that I could go only one block. It wasn’t that long ago that it dawned on me that my Momma would never be able to run a mile… ever. That’s when it came back to me. Remember WHY I’m doing this.

So on today, World Cancer Day, I remember. I will likely need reminders again as I am human and get wrapped up in the nothingness of my life. It takes me a while to recognize these little signs but when I do… wow. It’s pretty powerful.

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Broken Crown

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 29, 2014 by runmyssierun

I recently cleaned out EVERYTHING in the house, the garage, the attic, every closet, etc… and found a lot of things, too many things, that took me to places I had tucked away in my memory. You know that popular hashtag going around social media? #throwbackthursday? Ya, well, this is too much for just a Thursday. In fact, if you combined all the Thursdays in a year, it would still lack enough space to handle these memories.

Lots of good ones… a few bad.

I’m a little embarrassed that I had been a packrat all these years but in a way, so very grateful, too. I made a lot of mistakes in my younger years that I thought I had learned from but for some odd reason was making those very same mistakes once again. Remembering all this reminded me of those mistakes and those lessons and how they pertained to me now.

  • Mistake #1: Being too shy
  • Mistake #2: Feeling like no one understood me
  • Mistake #3: Wishing

But what stood out the most to me was that I was really a good kid, a good teenager, a good young adult, a good adult and a good parent… I just made a few mistakes was all. A few bad choices, some naive misunderstandings and lack of experience should not have made me or anyone else think less of me. So after this lengthy introduction, here’s what I’m getting at: I didn’t need to change my shyness. Being shy is who I am. Feeling like I wasn’t understood by anyone was just my misunderstanding. In fact, I am sure that many of you reading this right this very second can relate to what I was feeling.  And there was absolutely nothing wrong with wishing… I just needed to make a plan to make those wishes come true. I simply needed to grow, experience and open my heart… not change.

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My parents spent a lot of their time with me and Donny whenever they could. They taught me all that they knew about the importance of family and God and education and work ethic and how you spend your time and who you choose to spend it with. And some how some way, my parents made each lesson jam packed with fun and happiness every single time.

We didn’t have a lot of money growing up – especially in my teenaged years. Donny and I went to a very good private Catholic school (I went all the way from 1st to 9th grade and Donny went from 1st to 5th grade). They struggled to pay the tuition each month and used uniforms each year but they got by. We didn’t have air conditioning or cable or were able to go on summer vacations but we were together and happy. We took weekend trips to Bentsen park and camped out in tents and made s’mores and fished in the river with fishing rods made from tree limbs and bait made from squished up bread on hooks we found along the river bend that others had thrown away.

Amazing that we didn’t have to worry about stepping on those rusty old hooks and spending the weekend in the emergency room getting tetanus shots! Or snakes or illegal aliens crossing over from Mexico hiding in the bushes or coyotes (both kinds) or… cancer.

We could wake up on a bright sunny Saturday morning, watch Looney Tunes and drive away for an hour to South Padre Island with a foam ice chest filled with a big chilled watermelon, cheese sandwiches and bags of doritos and not have to worry about Chemo.

Momma taught me that if I wanted something bad enough, I had to work hard for it. They provided me with enough food to nourish me, clothes to cover me, a house to call a home and love to encourage me. I worked odd job after odd job, many times working at several places at the same time so that I could get my first pair of designer jeans, pay for gas in my car and books for college. I never had to worry about invoices totalling thousands of dollars from MD Anderson every month.

And as I was flipping through all the photos, cards, receipts and memorabilia of yesteryear, my eyes were led to one very special memory. In order for you to get the point of it, I’ll have to set the mood and history for you.

I spent a lot of time alone, grounded, in my room growing up.  *Not because I was a bad kid or anything but I think my parents figured out that it was cheaper to find an excuse to ground me than to give me money to go to the movies or play video games on the weekends and they never had the heart to tell me they couldn’t give me money. I would sit on the ledge of my window sill and write in my diary, read the Outsiders over and over again, listen to records and practice smiling in the mirror or curling and braiding my hair and day dream. I was that awkward girl that shot up taller than everyone else in 6th grade (but then stopped growing). I walked with my head down and hardly spoke a word to anyone so when I gave my heart to a boy for the first time and experienced my first heartbreak, Momma was there.

“Don’t let someone keep your heart if they want someone else’s heart,” she said calmly as she was driving making a left turn from 4th street to Sprague. I remember this as if it happened minutes ago. My eyes were focused straight at the stop light. I never looked at her. I never said a thing to her. She hadn’t seen me cry. She didn’t know what had happened or at least I didn’t think she did but clearly now I can tell that she knew. She must have seen the heartbreak in my face. It must be a “Mom” thing.

After speaking to the “Metamorphosis” group of empowered young ladies and listening to some of their challenges (broken families, teen pregnancy, peer pressure, drugs, gangs, grades, homelessness, rape, cancer), it hit me suddenly how I remember being that young and thinking how destroyed I felt when I thought I couldn’t talk to someone because I was so shy or that I thought no one understood what I was feeling or that my wishes would always be doomed to just daydreams in my head. Everything I went through gave me lessons and strength to be able to better cope with the increasingly more complex tribulations of life. As a teen, I experienced everything they experienced. They continue to contact me – and it thrills me to no end – to talk about dreams and mapping out plans to transform those wishes into goals.

One girl, I won’t say her name, reminded me soooooo much of myself. She never said a word. When I asked her a question, she blushed and looked down and to the left and hid under her long mane of hair… just like I used to. She was the first to find me and request me on a social media site. Still hasn’t said a word… but just like my mom knew something was up on that drive home when my heart was broken for the first time.. I know that little girl like I know myself. And I think she’s going to go further than she ever imagined. And I want to be there when it happens.

I am shy by nature but I work on my shyness when the event calls for it. I struggle with public speaking and simply just talking to someone I don’t know yet and it is difficult for me to expose my true self and experiences to others and it’s REALLY hard to ask people for donations… but it’s important for them to know and for me to let it out and to get over that fear. So I don’t change.. I just improve on myself a bit more and a bit more each time and am constantly working on my communication skills because of this. I’ll admit that my first instinct still tells me that no one understands me and the only ones who truly get me are inanimate music lyrics of favorite tunes but once I take that little step back, talk about it to a few trusted friends or even let it out on this blog, the responses that I get tell me that my problems, my emotions and my reactions are no different from so many others out there. I am a dreamer. I kind of like that about me. I hope that never changes because my dreams are big… gargantuan, in fact. But now I can take that dream and figure out a way to make that dream come true. Seriously, whodathought I’d be where I’m at now? Gotta hand it to me, I’ve had a hellovalife! And my dreams aren’t over yet. I’m just getting started.

So as I was emptying that last box in the garage and saw my old pageant crown crushed into pieces under all those memories, I cried just a little bit, regained my composure, smiled a little and continued on. After all, there is a kingdom I still reign over and a sunset I plan to ride off into. A broken crown won’t stop me. It never has.

Never give up on your dreams. Don’t change for anyone but improve on those flaws that stop you from achieving your best you.

 

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Certain things are likely

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 30, 2013 by runmyssierun

1554534_10153676217425068_1042486816_nIt was the last weekend of 2011 and I had recently finished my first 5k (at the Fiesta marathon) and right between Christmas and New Years… the perfect time to give up on your fitness routine because of all the parties and temptation and seriously… resolutions start AFTER December 31st, right???

Wrong

This resolution was to be life changing for me at that time and even though I didn’t know anyone running that morning at Bill Schupp park, I knew I owed it to myself and to Sissy to get in as many training races as possible… so I did it.

And I ran it.

And ran it again the last weekend in 2012.

And ran it again this last weekend in 2013… today. But this time it was with my two boys. THAT WAS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY YEAR!!! To know that I’ve made so many sacrifices these last two years, so many lifestyle changes and so many positive impacts by staying true to myself and my running fitness goals that it impacted the lives of my sons… by their choice.

You have no idea how gratifying it is so see this come full circle.

Sissy certainly knew what she was doing. Three years ago, had you told me that my boys and I would be running races for “fun”… I would have laughed hysterically in your face!!!

I do love the new “me” that I’ve fought to become again… again? Yes, again. I am slowly becoming the woman I was a long time ago and was reminded of that just last night when my old friends from high school all came together to celebrate Billy’s wedding.  If you are familiar with 80’s movies, you know who Molly Ringwald is. Well, there was a part of me in every character that Molly played. I refer back to Molly a lot because in high school, my friends were the real breakfast club. And I was Molly.

Of all the characters that she played, I was probably most like Andie Walsh.

I still love the classic Karmann Ghia, shop at thrift stores, sketch designs and am surrounded by music (although not a music store in my real life unless you consider iTunes as the modern day music store) and I’m least like Claire Standish because although I did win my city’s local crown, I was hardly a princess. I don’t think I could do the lipstick trick (I never tried) but I could do the cherry stem trick 😉 and I still swoon over the dark haired bad boy. What is probably MOST predictable is that I married a guy who honestly really did look like Jake Ryan. I’ve been coloring my hair for so long that you’d never even know that my real hair color is copper red!!!

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I’m rambling

So anyways as my old Breakfast Club reunited (sans a few members) the talk and the realization of who I used to be and who I was becoming were quite similar. THANK GOD!

In my teens and early twenties, I felt like I could do anything I set my mind to. I conquered all! There were no limits. In my late twenties, thirties and early forties, I felt like I could do nothing right.

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Each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.

My Breakfast Club friends – life long friends – helped make me feel like I could do anything. And I hope that I don’t diminish how special they are to me by saying this next part because NO ONE COULD POSSIBLY BE AS WONDERFUL FRIENDS AS THEY WERE TO ME AT THAT TIME but now I feel like through all these run groups, team in training, Maniacs, cyclepaths, etc….  is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.

When the original Breakfast Club was together, we were unstoppable. We could change the world if we wanted to in 72 hours. We never realized what we had at the time.

Now, I have a new Breakfast Club. The members are all so very different from each other. Some of us still tear each other apart with misunderstandings and gossip. (Not like my original Breakfast Club) But some of us… some of us are pretty dang awesome. And I’ll bet if given the chance, they could change the world in 72 hours if they wanted to.

I am so glad that I am part of this motley gang of misfit fitness fanatics. I am so glad that I have the family that I do. I am so glad that I was raised by the family that I had. I am so glad that my Breakfast Club reunited and remembered who I was and who Sissy wanted me to be again.

The great thing about Andie, Samantha and Claire is that all those characters went through some crazy drama, she had a few trusteds that she vented with (Yes, I have a “Duckie”, too), but with the help of her friends and the love of her family and a little bit of creativity… she gave up something that was dear to her and gave it to the handsome bad boy

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she transformed the humble gifts that were given to her and creatively combined them all so that she could show the world that they did not break her, and she showed up to the big event and showed them..

In the end, Molly always got the kiss and the storybook happily ever after ending… and that’s where I hope I am now. Sometimes I feel like my whole life has been written by John Hughes. Sometimes, I wish it was.

2014… it’s time to get it right. I know my goals. I know how to get them. It’s not going to be the trite “New year/New me” lingo here… I want the old me back again. So here we go!!! With the help of my friends and family…

WHAT’S HAPPENING HOT STUFF?????

Don't you forget about me. (*Rodney Perez)

Don’t you forget about me. (*Rodney Perez)

To my Duckie…

Taking it back old school so that I can move forward.

Now what?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 22, 2013 by runmyssierun

I went from never running a mile in my life to running a marathon (ok, make that plural for technicality’s sake)

And then after that was dared to complete the Triple Crown for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Did that.

As part of the training for the Triple Crown, I joined the Maniacs. Part of their requirements was to complete three triathlons a year… did that.

Now what?

As I sit back and contemplate on the personal PHYSICAL milestones that I have achieved in this short time, I have to wonder if my personal EMOTIONAL and SPIRITUAL milestones were met as well. And don’t kid yourself… I’ve also asked myself the question “What’s next?”

Yes. My relationship with God and myself has become quite intricate and intense. I would love to say that I’ve always had a closeness to God and was pretty good at knowing myself… but these last two years put me at a level that I never thought possible. After speaking to Derek a short while back, I was reminded of my purpose.

Have I completed my PURPOSE?

No. I don’t believe so.

I went back to the picture that fell on my foot that Sissy had intended to give to me but passed away before she could.

The first line grabbed me once again.

Life in not a race but indeed a journey

“Life is not a race — but indeed a journey.”

You see, it’s not about the races that I complete… it’s the journey that I have taken along the way. It’s the people that I have met and befriended. It’s the obstacles that I have overcome. It’s the way I have looked fear eye to eye and took that step forward anyway. It’s about all I have lost and all I have gained. It has nothing to do with the medals hanging on my office wall. It has nothing to do with my PRs and splits and what I weighed on the scale before and after. It’s much bigger than that. MUCH MUCH BIGGER THAN THAT.

It’s about the people that I have helped. It’s about the hope that was generated. It’s about relieving someone else’s family from debt. It’s about taking the worry away from a family wondering how they’re going to get transportation to MD Anderson or San Antonio. It’s about providing housing and utilities and copays during chemo treatment. It’s about getting people to realize that there is a problem, a serious epidemic here and it seems to be getting worse. It’s even more than just a cure. It’s about PREVENTION of this ever happening again to another family…. selfishly, it’s also about doing all I can to make sure it doesn’t happen to MY family ever again.

I had made mention of being asked to be a panel speaker in a previous blog post. I was leary of being a part of this movement because I live in an area where anger and ignorance thrives. We take a mistruth and spread it around like gospel. We call it “chisme” (pronounced cheese-meh for my Spanish-slang novices out there). It is really hard to get a donation from our residents so when you GIVE them an excuse NOT to give… oh ya… they’ll run with it by saying “I’m not going to give because all these races you do are cancer fundraising scams!!!” “I’m not paying for your vacation” “None of this money even goes to help cancer patients!” or that local spin… “None of this money even goes to help LOCAL cancer patients!”

I was so afraid that if the ignorant got word of this, they’ll spread it around and we’d never get anywhere!

I did, however, attend and gave it a chance. I’m glad I did.

I was a little disappointed in the number of people who showed up who were actually touched by cancer. There were more politicians running for election there than those who had or had had cancer. But if they can help create/change policy here locally (i.e. impose smoking bans regionally or remove chemicals from our locally grown agriculture, etc.) I can see why they were there. The handful of people who were there that had been touched by cancer stood out. Not in a bad way. It’s like they lit up the whole theater. I’ve met people like that before. You know… you can tell they’re going to be big, really big, but no one knows who they are yet. That’s the kind of shine they had. Momma had that light. Everyone she met could see it. We as humans gravitate towards people who have that light.

The movie played in that freezing cold theater and while I completely agree with the ultimate message they were intending, I still saw so much bitterness and … oh, I really don’t want to use this word but can’t think of any other word that describes it… hate towards big corporate business.  I do not believe that all big business is bad and greedy. The undertone sure made it sound that way especially when the leader boasted that they did not take donations from ANY big business. If I owned a big business and knew that 1 out of every 2 men  and 1 out of every 3 women would be touched by cancer, I would certainly take a good look at my workforce, calculate those stats and jump in full force to do something for my employees. Big or small business, that’s just the right thing to do.

I guess my background in economic development has given me an understanding of social and economic balance and need for both the big box and the mom-and-pop or sole-entrepreneur in this country. So the tone that was set from the get-go was like nails on a chalkboard to me. The women who were interviewed were all angry and bitter. They were all stage IV breast cancer patients.

My mother was first diagnosed in 2006 with stage IV cancer and never once showed anger or bitterness to the world (although I know she must have felt it at some points – she never showed it). She told me over and over again that she was not “battling” cancer. She was DANCING with it. Cancer would take a step and she would take a step back and then she would take a step and cancer would take a step back. She smiled when she said that. ALWAYS. She danced with cancer for 6 1/2 years. It was when the death of her sister, the death of her son and the overwhelming worry of expenses stole that smile from her face that her condition worsened. It was when she was UNHAPPY that cancer finally gained control over her.

She didn’t “market” herself that way. She simply WAS that way. Always smiling. Always happy.

She taught me to be like that. By example. It’s not some marketing ploy.

So that was the only other part of the movie that I didn’t agree with… and took offense with. *But that’s another topic

Bottom line: I hope that all those miles I put in and all the money I helped raise are not in vain. I run for organizations that my mother said helped her. I know there are organizations out there that have profited off of the breast cancer awareness movement. There will always be greedy people like that in the world. Let God deal with them when their time comes. In the mean time, don’t make it any easier for them. Think before you buy pink.

Pinkwasher – a company or organization that claims to care about breast cancer by promoting a pink ribbon product, but at the same time produces, manufactures and/or sells products that are linked to the disease.

Critical questions for conscious consumers

* How much money, if any, goes to a breast cancer organization?

* What organization and programs will your money fund?

* Is there a maximum donation and has it already been met?

* Does this product put you at an increased risk of breast cancer?

Donate directly to a breast cancer organization of your choice if you are concerned about where your money is going.

If you are local to the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and would like free movie passes to see the last viewing of Pink Ribbons, Inc., I will gladly provide them to you. It will be showing on Sunday, October 27th at 2:00 p.m. at the Historic Cine El Rey Theater (311 S. 17th Street, McAllen, TX) A Question and Answer panel with discussion will follow the film.

My personal note:  I don’t care what kind of cancer you have or what kind of issue you have, once you let anger get the best of you… it has already won.  Do not let it control you. I highly recommend watching this movie but please disregard the bitterness. Just think before you pink.

Critical pinkwashing questions to ask when donating or purchasing pink ribbon items.

Critical pinkwashing questions to ask when donating or purchasing pink ribbon items.

Speaking about the toxicity of our environments and our need to not just focus on finding a cure for those who have been hurt by cancer but also  PREVENTING cancer from the rest of the world. Discussing cancer priorities

Speaking about the toxicity of our environments and our need to not just focus on finding a cure for those who have been hurt by cancer but also PREVENTING cancer from the rest of the world. Discussing cancer priorities

Talking about the points in the Pink Ribbons Inc documentary that stood out most to us.

Talking about the points in the Pink Ribbons Inc documentary that stood out most to us.

So in conclusion… now what?

LET THE STORY BE TOLD. Momma and Sissy had a message. The world needs to hear it so that it doesn’t happen again. Not just deal with it and “slice, burn and poison” it… but NEVER allow it to happen again. This is beyond a much needed cure that is accessible and affordable to all. This is now about prevention for the next generation.

Oh! and ya… I’ll keep running and getting others to run with me (or tri, too).

Something for the pain

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2013 by runmyssierun

I am aware of pain. I feel it. I just won’t talk endlessly about it nor will I go around showing everyone my boo-boo or tell them “it hurts when I do this”. I simply won’t do “this” because it hurts.

I do listen to my body and know the difference between muscle fatigue and muscle damage. After a few harsh extreme endurance physical events, my body is bound to feel one of the two.

I went for a second opinion (yes, other than my own). Sometimes, I admit it, I don’t know everything.

The doc’s opinion… I’ve got a pain in my neck.

Spine works in McAllen…. That was pretty cool. They hooked up this thingamajig to my spine and it calculated all the problems and intensity of the problems on my back.

Way cool!

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Viva Bike Vegas – the Triple Crown

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 25, 2013 by runmyssierun

You have to be brave with your life
So that others can be brave with theirs

The moment was here. I boarded the plane knowing that quitting was NOT an option.

“Fasten your seatbelts. The captain just said he was going to try something new.” – Southwest Airlines Flight Attendant and part-time comedian. He kept my nerves at bay with his comedy act over the loud speaker.

After a few delayed hours of flight, I went straight to Las Vegas Cyclery to pick up my “Mimi”. To the person who has never ridden an awesome road bike before, the relationship between me and my custom built Felt bike is probably perceived as a bit coo-coo. And to those people I have to say “so what?”. “Mimi” was beautifully reassembled and rolled out to me with unanimous comments from the bike store staff gasping “Your bike is wicked!” – yes, I know 🙂

Las Vegas Cyclery and my Felt bike

I was able to meet up with Rodney’s family for dinner. (Rodney was one of my best friends in High School that lost his battle to cancer just a few months before he was to stand up with me at my wedding – He was beyond phenomenal.) Dinner was fabulous. I had the best seared ahi tuna salad ever! Yes, I was starving and am a nervous emotional eater. I scarfed the whole thing down.

The Perez family at VBV dinner

Rhonda, Rodney’s sister, took me to the local convenience store to pick up some zip ties and crazy glue. I have a feeling that the store clerk thought I was a serial killer. My bike’s water bottle holder had snapped in half during the flight over. I had to find some way to jimmy it back. Nevada is way too hot to have just one bottle of water for 104 miles.

My McGyver skills are pretty impressive. (I watched a lot of TV as a kid)

crazy glue

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I drank a full bottle of pedialyte, lots of bed rest the day before and nibbles of fresh fruit all day long, steamed veggies and a pasta dinner, one choco chip cookie and nonstop water all week long (with of course my coffee in the morning – I know I know but that’s my vice).

I was a little nervous because I had mentally prepared for a practice ride on Friday morning with the national Team in Training and it was cancelled last minute. However, I did get to meet the North Texas TNT bike team who seemed VERY nice and willing to adopt me on Saturday to make sure I was comfortable and around people I knew – just in case.

Inspiration dinner was tear-filled and amazing. Ryan (my national Flex team director) had surprised us with photos of our loved ones that we were all cycling for. It was quite touching. I had a hard time finishing my dinner. They had me stand for applause and couldn’t look up at all. I have a hard time letting people see me cry. Momma wouldn’t allow any of us to see her cry when she was in treatment. I try really hard to be as strong as she was. I still have yet to be able to be that strong. They did get me to laugh as they “crowned” me later that night with paper burger king crowns all stacked one on top of the other. But we all know who really deserves the real crown. I will always bow down to her.

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Saturday morning came and I was well prepared. My time trial landed me in the first wave however the North Texas team was in the 4th wave start and the National team was in the 3rd. My virtual coach said I could go down a few waves and placed me in the 3rd wave start with the other national team members and closer to the Texas team. I had a start time of 7:40 a.m. Later than I expected. Hotter than I predicted.

A wind advisory was issued that day and prior to leaving the start, advised everyone to change their aero tires if possible.

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I got a bit more nervous at that point.

Ok, now that you have the back ground, here’s the nitty gritty.

I made my way to the start line with a few thousand of my new friends. The sun was itching to come out and play over the horizon. It shined just enough to illuminate the taunting of the start line.

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From mile 7 to mile 30-some it was an uphill battle. It was tough. THE toughest thing I’ve EVER done! No words can describe the brutality. The winds varied 18-40 mph against me and never once were at my back!!! I stayed on my saddle the entire time and knew the exact moment I entered the Red Rock Canyon because the wind and the heat sucked out all the moisture from my mouth, skin and eyeballs.

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The incline grade here obviously increased. I mashed much more than expected and my heart broke when I looked down four times at my Garmin to see 7mph, 6mph, 5mph and yes, 4mph. But I made it to the top. It took me almost FOUR hours to climb that mountain!!! Four hours for just thirty miles. Ok, so I did take my time being a winter texan and took a ton of scenic tourist pictures (see above). But four freakin hours was way longer than I planned. But I wasn’t sagged!!! I saw one after another go down. Exhaustion and heat took some of the best. It was quite intimidating. I caught myself yelling out “Chemo is harder! Chemo is harder!”.  It helped me put things into perspective quickly.

I went deep into the dangerous hidden parts of my memory. All those days I was a hallway away from where I knew Momma was being fed poison, throwing up, wanting to cry and double up from the pain she was going through… but didn’t because she knew she had to endure in order to survive. We were a hallway away from each other and she knew I was scared. I knew she was scared. So she’d text me photos of her smiling trying to convince me that she was doing fine. It was that memory that fueled me. As I spotted the photographers along the course, I smiled for her the same way she smiled for me…. even while in pain.

Remember my attitude coming in? So, I figured, ok, the hard part is over. It’s literally all down hill from here. My legs are feeling the pain but I’m not injured and I’m not super sore and heck ya I can do this! (p.s. I was sooooo wrong for thinking it was that easy… the hard part was much further away)

Then I see a sign. Albeit a misspelled sign but I got the message. “Be safe fast decent”

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I had worried so much about climbing that I hadn’t ever really gone over how to handle declining a mountain nor had I had the opportunity to practice it at such a pitch!!! I was scared and basically rode the brakes almost the entire 30 miles down the mountain. This hurt my make up time I had figured into my total. I barely made the cut off time at the bottom of the mountain. You had to make it or else they’d re-direct you to the metric century course. The race director smiled at me and said “Texas, there’s a wind advisory going on just as you turn the corner here. Are you ok with that?” (They nick named me Texas) “Yes, sir, Wind and heat are the only things I was able to train for properly in Texas” I replied.

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He assigned a mentor alumni from Kansas to stick by me but I have say it was a great feeling to drop them once that wind came in. They couldn’t handle it. I went back up to my normal 15-18mph speed against the wind. It was just like home. But that’s when my battery went dead on my phone. The iOs7 update sucked up all my battery life faster than predicted. If something should happen to me, there was no way I could contact a sag vehicle, coach, teammate, friend, husband or dad. At the next rest stop I ran into a huge Kansas team that adopted me. After that, I saw the Texas team and they insisted that I join them for safety reasons. I agreed under the circumstances. The time was about 2:00 and the winds really picked up. I saw three cyclists go down with the wind as we made turns. Bikes shattered and shoulders and wrists broke. Fear consumed us all but it overwhelmed three of the Texas team members and they were made up of mostly Marine families and held the motto firmly… they would not leave a team member, they would do this together. Their speed went down to 6mph against the wind. I began to regret my decision to join the Texas team. It was actually HARDER to ride slowly than it was at the 15-18mph that I was used to. BUT if something should happen to me, they were right. It was safer for me to stick with a group and they were all I had. It killed me to go this slow. The heat sizzled my legs. I had gargantuan salt crystals forming around my nose and eyes. Each time I wiped them off, more would grow back bigger than the last. My mouth was so dry and I could feel my lips crisp up. I didn’t have sun block but I did have spf chap stick. I used my pockets for fuel and not sun block. Big mistake.

Because elevations were my initial fear, I remember the 30-mile mark being the biggest and longest obstacle, another peak would be around mile 70 and the last kick in the shin would be around the 90 mile mark with the steepest incline of the entire course. I was at the 90 mile mark and all of a sudden the course went off road. THIS WAS NOT EXPECTED!!! Have to admit that a smile overtook my face when I realized that Wally’s Hell of the South race really was the perfect training. THIS was the steepest incline and decline of the day. Google the three sisters of River Mountain Trail. I felt like an unpaid stunt man!!!


this is a link to a video of the three sisters

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IT WAS THE BIGGEST RUSH OF MY LIFE! The video does it no justice!!! I hit 37 mph (some of my teammates argue that it was close to 45 that we hit but I never had the guts to look at the Garmin on my wrist). After this, it was flat windy hot and boring. I went from “That was AWWWWEEEESOME! I’m gonna do this again!” to “I can’t wait for this to be over! How far away are we from the finish line? Are we there yet? I’m never doing this again.” I was hot, exhausted, thirsty, crispy, cranky and wanted to go faster!!!! One of the Texas members fell over and began throwing up. The team stayed behind with him. I HAD to go forward. This slow pace was driving me bonkers and we were so close to the finish. I was already 2 1/2 hours behind my predicted schedule and wanted to get off my saddle now!!! My feet were sore from mashing so hard up hill and my fingers were numb from gripping the brakes down those sisters. I finished strong and eager to just get it over with and surprised to see 400 team members and the Medinas at the finish line waiting for me with cheers and a crown!!!!

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In summary, I am injury free. The only real sore part I’m dealing with is my neck and shoulders. My nutrition and hydration was perfect. My training was spot on. Had I mastered the confidence to conquer the uphill and downhill, I would have made much better time. Had I decided to stick with the Kansas team, my time would have been much more like my training time. (Texas would NOT go over 8 mph) Had I remembered to stick sun block in my back pockets I would not have snake skin on my legs and nose right now.

I had dinner that night with some of the race volunteers. The Sag driver told me “I sagged one of the contributors of Bicycle magazine!! Take that to the bank!” another bike coach told me “I’ve done over 30 century rides in my life and never once have I seen one this difficult.”
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CLARITY

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 13, 2013 by runmyssierun

It’s a moment in time when all of a sudden the light bulb shines brightly in your head…

The “Ah ha” Moment!

As I near the end of my TRIPLE CROWN journey, I wanted to take a look back over all the people who stood by me, those who encouraged, those who said it couldn’t be done, those who benefitted, those who joined with me, those who mocked me, those who gave, those who took, those who I lost… and those precious, dear new friends I gained.

Those of you who follow my facebook, twitter, instagram and other sm accounts know that I rarely use names in my posts. I have nick names for family members and simply don’t talk about people I don’t like. *I learned that from Bambi* http://youtu.be/I71cY9Ysy5U

So, if I haven’t talked about you and you want to see your name here, want acknowledgment of some sort and are upset because you feel I’ve left you out… think again. Ask yourself, “Is she protecting my privacy or is she upset because I hurt her?” Regardless of the answer, know that you certainly have NOT been forgotten.

The ones that deserve more recognition than I have given… I’m going to continue on with my kudos and their nick names:

Dolly Gas – I was 18 years old when I first met her. Even back then I -and everyone else- knew this woman was soon to be the pulse of the Valley. She has a gift unlike any other, that of kindness and generosity unmatched. It is always when I least expect her to be by me to lift me up that she is there. She has been one of my biggest supporters, largest donors, most encouraging fan and dearest friend. For over two decades, this woman has shown me by her example all that I hope to be.

Butterfly Angel – This woman is so incredible! When I first met her, she didn’t know who I was and started talking about me to me. When I got to know her story, it was so similar to my own, I felt from the get go that we were true sisters. We both knew the torment that cancer causes and the torment of running a marathon… together. She has also been one of my biggest supporters, largest donors, most encouraging fan and has quickly become a dear friend. From bike jerseys that have turtles to orange bike gloves to hiring an artist to paint my first running shoe… this woman thinks of everything!!!

Les is More – This woman was one of my baby brothers dearest friends. She was accused of untruths and blamed for things that she did not do. She still had the grace to keep her head high, crush the lies and still do the right thing by killing the accusers with kindness. When those things happen to me, I look to her for guidance as her example has led me through way too many situations that flooded my eyes with tears and brought me to my knees… from those same people who tried to take her down. She has not only donated to EVERY Leukemia & Lymphoma event I’ve been in but she has also been a fabulous mastermind to several fundraisers for me as well.

My Breakfast Roll Club, PNO, and the “Family” – If laughter, love and encouragement had a dollar value… with all that they have given me, I’d be a gazillionaire. Honestly, I did the math.

Because the above have given so much, I keep their identities sacred so that others do not attack them for donations. Unfortunately, our world revolves around money and the people above have worked very hard for the money that they have and are always being hit up. People see their deep pockets and not their overflowing hearts. I’ve been the lucky one to be a recipient of their overflowing hearts.

Coach – I know… I call so many people “coach” because I have so many (running, triathlon, tnt, flex, vrc, etc). I often boast that the world is my coach because of all the lessons I’ve learned these past couple of years. But my close circle of friends/fellow athletes know who my “coach” is. While she has not made a donation, it is the skill, motivation and experience that she has shared with me that trumps any dollar amount. How can you put a monetary value on self-esteem?

Xman, Skittles and Little Skittles – I could not do my long runs on Saturdays, open water swims on Sundays or 80-mile bike rides in the hill country without these boys “taking up the slack” at home. They’ve waited for hours for me to finish marathons with cowbell and posters. They ran 5ks with me for training. They shaved their heads in solidarity. They gave me swimming lessons, took the dogs out, folded laundry, swept fur off the floor, quietly watched TV in the other room while I recovered and even followed me around on one marathon with ice chests full of ice, water, gatorade and fuel for me and all the other runners around. How can you put a monetary value on sanity? There’s no way I could train the way I do without this kind of support at home.

And now to “those”

To the mothers (especially) and families of Sarah, Ben, Baby E and Dezma… thank you for allowing me to befriend the grandest treasure of your life. Thank you for having the courage to tell the world of your struggles and your triumphs. Through your grace I have found my resolve. Thank you.

To the fellow runner who accused me behind my back of lying about my mile times. Thank you for getting me angry enough to run even faster than what I had stated and was smart enough to have proof the next time on my Garmin. YOU made me faster. Thank you.

To the jealous gym bunnies, false friends and former co-workers who made my life miserable with gossip, flirting, accusations and making fun of the hand sign that my mother and I treasured so deeply… I hope one day you’ll be able to experience the self esteem and confidence that I gained. You probably need it more than I ever did.

To those hundreds of people who wrote to me with questions on how to get started on your own journey, please know that you ARE worthy enough to make yourself the same promise I made to myself. DO NOT GIVE UP. Not on yourself. Value yourself more. Trust me, I struggle with the same issues you do. Many of us do. NEGU

To that stranger who ran a marathon for my mother and my aunt Sissy without ever knowing who they were… THANK YOU. Thank you for giving us six more treasured years together. Thank you for all your hard work and dedication and training and fundraising and sacrifice and anonymous grace. I will probably never know who you are but I hope that I honor you for what you have done by doing the same for someone else in the same circumstance.

To my sponsors… WOW! It is honestly overwhelming to attempt to even try to name them all here (some are at the top right corner of the screen if you’re on a computer or at the very bottom if you scroll down on your phone screen). To think that a business owner saw enough potential in me to give a portion of their hard earned money and donate it to some crazy person doing an extreme physical event so that someone they or she would never know could get their cancer treatment, transportation, housing or possibly a cure just fills my heart with hope for our world. God really does work through us all. In all our deeds and thoughts, He is in us. How else can you explain this?

To my donors… Each one gave as much as they possibly could in honor or in memory of a loved one touched with cancer. So many gave me names, photos and stories of those they gave for. Each one touched me to the core. I knew many and felt like I knew the rest after hearing the stories. From $5 to $2000, the donations kept coming in. I did my best to tell their stories to any who would listen. I did even better remembering them when I wanted to quit running, swimming or cycling. Because what I was going through couldn’t be nearly as hard or as painful as what they went through. Thank you donors. Your money is going to someone as special as my mom was to me.

To my Team in Training teammates, fellow Maniacs, Cyclepaths, VRC running class, RWC girls, 5am wake up riders and RPM classmates, thank you for pushing me and encouraging me. I always felt guilty as I was the last to come in (always) and knowing that each of you sat and waited for me to finish each practice and event. You did so with cheers and smiles and no complaints. I am honored to have had each of you by my side. YOU WOULD NOT LET ME QUIT. Thank you for that.

To my family – Thank you for sitting in the hot sun and the bottom of heartbreak hill with posters and cheers before I even knew what heartbreak hill was! Thank you for homemade banana nut bread for recovery… yes, bananas ARE supposed to be eaten to help with lost potassium. We’ve gone through so much together, I am so thankful that the silver lining for us is a much closer, loving family than ever before.

To my friends – Homemade pasta carb-loading dinners pre-race night, custom wet-suits by design, dinners in San Diego, floor seats to the Spurs before race day… the extravagance of their generosity is amazeballs!!! I am one of those lucky people who has lifelong friendships that count. They never EVER forget me and the bonds are unbreakable. Clearly. They know that what I am doing is completely different from what I have done all my life… I’m a professional princess 😉 And they still treat me as the legend in my own mind. I really do have the best friends ever.

To my brother – I know you are still with me. EVERY SINGLE EVENT I have done has had a Foo Fighters song blaring out at me at one point or another. I know you are still with me. Now stop laughing at how slow I still am!!! You weren’t fast either!

To my Sissy – Thank you for pushing me into this journey. Thank you for knowing that this would be the perfect opportunity to meet your biological family. Thank you for planning my journey back to self-esteem and health. Thank you for NOT picking zumba (as I first joked to you about).

To my Momma – Thank you for the courage and strength you showed all your life but especially while you were being attacked by cancer. Thank you for being the roll model I still struggle trying to portray. THANK YOU FOR EVERY SINGLE CHOICE YOU MADE. Thank you for telling me every chance you got that I could do anything I set my mind to. You were always right.

Thank you world.
I see what I must do.

Falling Slowly

Posted in cycling with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 2, 2013 by runmyssierun

My big ride this week was an 80-miler scheduled for early Saturday morning. Funny how I had planned all week going over route after route and getting advice from all the local experienced bicyclists… and I ended up not doing any of the discussed routes!!! But everything worked out in the end.

Here’s how it went:
3:45 alarm blares. I smash it into snooze oblivion.
3:50 alarm blares again. Ok Ok!!! I’m up! I’m up!
4:10 I’m all dressed, teeth are brushed and hair is braided back. I grab my garmin and the two lights charging in my office. I get my water bottles out of the kitchen. I make my coffee and bagel and say a cuss word when I see that someone ate all the peanut butter!! (I’m not nice in the morning)
4:30 I put air in the tires, attach the lights, pack my chomps, gu and check the brakes. Slip on my clips, take a spin around the block to make sure all is well and zoom off the parking lot to wait for the rest of the gang.
4:45… the gang no shows
5:00 Wheels down. I head North. I had spoken to all the other bicycles gangs in the area and took note of their departure times and routes so within a few minutes, I had already hooked up with a new gang that I had never met around Edinburg. Their pace was a bit slower than mine so it was easy to have that familiar discussion… “Hey, your bike! That’s the orange bike! Are you Myssie?”

It was early and I still had a long ways to go so I did the “click click” after a short while and jumped onto the next group along the familiar 5am Wake up ride route going South on Jackson. While it was surprisingly cooler than expected, it was still quite humid. I was going through water pretty fast.

7:00 I see the 2nd street overpass and tell myself to attack it with all I have. I set my gears in place, I fire up my quads and mash it with all my might. I did it!! One gear and seated!! The runners along the trail whoop and holler and my arm shoots up with proud fists. As I descend the hill, I see the Team in Training group… AND THE WATER STATION!!! I zoom by for a free refill and snap some goofy shots of us together and I’m on my way again.

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Once I hit Military Road, I feel like Switzerland. My mind goes back to a conversation about bicycle gangs and how it was expected to be a part of one or be shunned by all. I smile, relieved that all the groups that had congregated along the road over the next few hours all waved at me and welcomed me to join in with them along their rides. All up and down from Edinburg to Pharr to McAllen to Mission to Granjeno to Penitas and back, every single bike group welcomed me… or was it that they welcomed the “orange bike”??? I have to admit, my bike is quite famous now.

At my midway point, I stop for fuel and to check my stats at the corner convenience store on the corner of Shary Road. It is where most of the cyclists meet for the same reasons. While I’m there, several bikers surround me to check in and see how I’m doing. A few ask about a close friend of mine who also cycles and triathlons (is that a verb?) with me. Maritza had lost her brother just two days before while he was on his bike in a tragic tractor trailer accident shortly after he returned from his tour of duty. The news had begun to spread quickly and left us all with heavy hearts.

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The group made sure I was ok and I was off to meet up with another group at the Butterfly park. However, it was this short little time when I was alone that my worst nightmare came true.

I had traveled the road a hundred times. I knew how to go over rail road tracks correctly and did so each time. But this one time… when I was alone… it all went awry.

In a split second, the tracks seems to catch my tire perfectly. I was thrown, attached to my bike with my clips, into the middle lane and right in front of oncoming traffic. I remember it in slow motion… Falling slowly…I had to have flown at least ten feet into the air and onto the next lane. My head hit the street and then my elbow and then I hear the crash of my bike. “Don’t get up Myssie. Don’t get up. The 18-wheeler is going to run over you right now. You’re going to die. You’re going to die now.”

I turn my head slowly under and to my left. The 18-wheeler had stopped just in time. I was not going to die.

A kind stranger, Joel Sanchez, saw the whole thing unfold before him. He stopped. He drove an Aggie maroon colored hunting truck with camouflage upholstery and picked me up from the street. He swooped up my bike into the bed of his angel guided vehicle. This wonderful man took me to the same corner store to help clean my scrapes and put my chain back onto my bike. And just as he appeared from nowhere… he escaped to nowhere once again.

Just as I was about to throw in the towel and call someone to pick me up… the next group of angels arrived. He was a preacher and he had with him a child, a 15-year old bicycle prodigy trying to escape a life of gangs and drugs via the world of bikes. God speaks to me. Some times quite loudly.

We went on for another 20 plus miles after that. They even escorted me home to make sure I made it safely.

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A few blocks from home I asked myself how I really felt. I was surprised that I felt like I could easily go another 20 more miles… easy. Granted, not FAST… but easy. I could do it. I feel really good about my training. I had a good scare. I am lucky. But I feel my calling now more than ever before. There must be a reason I am here doing what I’m doing. Someone really important is going to benefit from my fundraising. I may never meet this person but I know deep in my heart, this person is just as important as my mom was to me.

Roar!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on August 30, 2013 by runmyssierun

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I am the Walrus

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 23, 2013 by runmyssierun

John Bingham shared some wise words last year over dinner right before my first marathon. He said “You are a long distance endurance athlete.”

John Bingham "The Penguin" and Myssie Cardenas Barajas. Read his blog - The Penguin Chronicles

John Bingham “The Penguin” and Myssie Cardenas Barajas. Read his blog – The Penguin Chronicles

He told us how he earned his nickname “The Penguin”. I could relate. He described himself as waddling like a penguin all throughout the race… but he finished. He’s never been first but he always finished. I could relate.

Maybe I’m a penguin, too.

I remember my mother giving me a poem on the first day of college. It was about a turtle. She told me to take my time and observe as much as I could to take it all in. She told me to stick my neck out for what I believed in and that no matter what, the shell of love that she built around me would protect me. She raised me to be a turtle like her.

Maybe I’m a turtle, too.

When first going out for my swims in the pool, I was taught by my son to not splash… at all. I took everyone’s advice to heart and tried with all my might to do it all as perfectly as I could. I was called “the little mermaid” because of it. I thought it was cute at first but now I see myself differently.

I’m really really still very very slow. I had my swim evaluation done earlier this week. My form was good for the amount of time I had been swimming. In six short months, I kept my elbows high, my breathing was good, I was skimming the water, my kicks needed some work and I need more power in my stroke but all in all… I was doing well.

One thing for sure… I am NOT a mermaid. After reviewing the video of myself swimming, I looked like I was swimming in molasses. I know… I know… it wasn’t about speed on that day. It was about form. Regardless, I couldn’t help but think about the Beetles song…

I am the Walrus. Cuu Cuu Cuchoo

The song makes as much sense as my life right now. It’s confusing, entertaining and much like a scene right out of Alice in Wonderland, I’ve found myself going down some crazy rabbit hole swimming through my own tears and off to a race that never seems to end and hoping that when I wake, it’ll all make sense to me.

The wonderful solid part of this week was getting the news that Kristina was well on her way to become a permanent list member of the cancer beaters club. You can read about her journey on her blog here. The day before Kristina made her news public, Taylor made her announcement as well!

Taylor ringing the cancer free bell

Unfortunately, David (our honored hero for this season’s Team in Training) is back at MD Anderson for the second time fighting stage 2 lymphoma. The good thing is that great things happen in threes 🙂

David Mendez and Sarah Morales - TNT's honored heros

David Mendez and Sarah Morales – TNT’s honored heros

So off I go again… slow but determined, for something much much bigger than just me. I am a penguin. I am a turtle. I am the walrus. I am relentless.

I wake up at 3:45a.m. to ride at 5:00a.m. to put in more miles on my bike before the sun rises than most people drive in their car all day long. All this, just to beat cancer and to show my love for my family members that cancer took away from me.

I wake up at 3:45a.m. to ride at 5:00a.m. to put in more miles on my bike before the sun rises than most people drive in their car all day long. All this, just to beat cancer and to show my love for my family members that cancer took away from me.