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Body, Mind & Soul…the REAL Triathlon workout

Posted in ACTS, cancer, half ironman, health & fitness, ironman, Mom, rgv, rio grande valley, Running, team in training, texas, training for my first half ironman, triathlon, triathlon training, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 28, 2017 by runmyssierun

I started this blog to share candid experiences of my personal journey with cancer and how I used marathons and triathlons as my soap box for awareness and a toolbox for fundraising. What I didn’t expect coming was the impact both would have inside of me… my soul.

So let’s talk first about FAILURE. Sure I entered my first marathon thinking that if I could show God how much I was sacrificing and how hard I was pushing myself to run TWENTY SIX POINT TWO miles that He would spare my Momma’s life and cure her cancer and all would be back to normal. Well, that didn’t work out the way I planned, huh?

Three full marathons, seven half marathons, thirteen triathlons, lost count of all the 5ks and 10ks and still… three DNFs

FAILURE

I was made fun of. I could have stayed quiet about it all and avoided the whole thing and the humiliation that came with it but I gave myself rules from the beginning and I did my best to stick to them:

No complaining. I had no right since I knew Momma had gone through so much – cancer treatment, surgeries, expenses, the loss of her sister and the loss of her only son. I had no right to complain.

Momma and her crown before her surgery

Be vulnerable and honest. If I was going to put it out there, I was going to go all out so that others could connect, understand, share, help and get the conversation and ultimately the movement of human compassion started.

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Never ever give up. This was the most difficult. Since I was never an athlete, it was hard for me to gauge the difference between soreness and injury. Not allowing myself to heal correctly and pushing myself because of my determination was the perfect combination for muscle injury.  When all the progress I made was thrown out the window because of my stubborn stupidity, it was humiliating and humbling to find myself right back at square one… overweight and out of shape.

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Oh but not all was failure. I did something pretty amazing. I did something that so many people never thought I could do… including myself. I accomplished physical feats that few attempt because of fear of failure. I accomplished getting a community to give of themselves for others so that a dollar here and a thousand dollars there could help someone in need… and we never even had to know who that person was. It was only important that they got a chance to live longer, happier, and healthier even if just for a moment. I accomplished a conversation that continues today… and important one. One that changed the way we treat, cure and charge for those services. I was a part of it. I did not sit on the sidelines of life. I was a part of this movement. It was just a little bit but it was MY bit and although it may not have been much, it gave me purpose, helped others and showed my children the example that my mother showed me.

 

The entire journey, I referenced God and angels and miracles and “signs” on a daily basis but something was missing. A connection was still missing… no no no… correction…

The connection was always there… I was just too blind to see it.

I knew what I needed to do. I always knew. I think all of you did, too. So this weekend it happened.

I attended the same retreat that my mother attended that set her soul on fire and strengthened her faith like no other I’ve ever met. That hand sign I throw at races was the hand sign she threw at me when she returned from her retreat. It means “I love you” in American sign language. It was an ACTS retreat and although I didn’t not attend it at the Shrine the way she did, I was able to attend it at my home church with the Priest that raised me and 71 other women whom were all strangely and purposefully meant to be with me this weekend.

Crossing the finish line of my first full marathon, witnessing my son graduate and choose to serve his country, giving birth, marrying the love of my life, winning my first crown, experiencing my first kiss… these life moments now have a new addition to my collection of favorite life memories. ACTS is officially a part of this collection.

The journey that this blog is based on began in 2011. But this week marks my true beginning. I now have all three “sports” in my line up and fully intend to workout each – MIND BODY & SOUL – to become the ultimate triathlete, the one He always intended for me to become.

And now, most importantly of all… I have mentioned “I” a whole bunch in this post. None of it was done alone by just “I”.  From the very, very beginning there was my FAMILY, there was our team of DOCTORS AND MEDICAL STAFF, there was TEAM IN TRAINING and THE LEUKEMIA AND LYMPHOMA SOCIETY and THE AMERICAN CANCER SOCIETY, there was the incredibly long list of SPONSORS, DONORS and VOLUNTEERS, there were numerous RUN GROUPS, COACHES, and TEAMMATES, CO-WORKERS, and seriously freaking awesome FRIENDS who joined me, there were my SONS and my HUSBAND and my FATHER who joined me in training or 5ks or followed me at my 2nd full marathon or helped throw orange paint at the Color Dash, and then there were 71 SISTERS IN CHRIST and HIM who never left my side… ever.

I’ve said it from the beginning… this was never just about me. This has always been about something much bigger… way bigger than just me.

As each phase in this journey has evolved, peaked and molded my life, I have seen the world of cancer change, my personal health change and that of my community, too, and ultimately the love of my family, friends and yes, my spirituality change immensely.

And for all of this… I thank you. So here I go again…a little quieter, a bit more purposeful and a whole lot stronger.  I invite you to join me if you are also ready to get over that fear, too.

 

 

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La Fea Mas Bella Con Ganas

Posted in team in training, training for my first half ironman, triathlon with tags , , , , , , , , , on December 2, 2016 by runmyssierun

Well it seems that even celebrity Emmy winners have that little evil, sarcastic, self-defeating, annoying voice in their heads, too. I’d be lying if I told you that I have mastered and conquered the evil voice in my head. However, I have learned to become quite successful at giving her a run for her money and beating her a few times over these last few years. I know I will always struggle with the voice of doubt in my head but I gotta admit, I am much better now than I was before October 2011.

I missed my alarm this morning and missed my morning workout. It set the tone for the rest of the day for me. I was a super busy day at work and couldn’t seem to catch up on the workload. My phone is by me at all times and is set to alert me when particular subjects trend on social media. Clearly triathlon is one of those subjects.

So when I was in the middle of blasting through three piles of paperwork, three conference calls, two interviews, sixteen follow up calls and my 4th venti coffee refill… America Ferrera popped up on my phone. It was her recap of her first Olympic triathlon… and it was probably one of the most verbatim real to life posts that not only depict her experience but mine as well… and probably many others, too. It was automatically set to post on one of my social media sites but I hadn’t had the time to read it… until now.

Here’s the link to the New York Times article I’m referencing: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/30/arts/television/how-a-triathlon-helped-america-ferrera-defy-her-inner-critic.html?&moduleDetail=section-news-3&action=click&contentCollection=Television&region=Footer&module=MoreInSection&version=WhatsNext&contentID=WhatsNext&pgtype=article&_r=1

How a Triathlon Helped America Ferrera Defy Her Inner Critic

By AMERICA FERRERA

NOV. 30, 2016

It wasn’t a dream. I was standing onstage holding an Emmy. I’d imagined being in this room, clutching this statue ever since watching my first Emmy broadcast at 7 years old. Now, I was actually at the podium and accepting the award on national television. It was 2007, and I was 23. I had worked very hard to get this far, I was shooting 16-hour days to make “Ugly Betty,”and I was loving every minute of it.

This should have been a moment of sublime celebration. But it wasn’t. I can’t remember the words that came out of my mouth, but I do remember, clear as day, the words that ran through my mind: Who do you think you are? You don’t belong here. No one here thinks you deserve this. Hurry up and get off the stage.

So I did.

It deeply saddened me that this mean, scared voice stole that moment of joy away. If I wasn’t going to own and enjoy my successes, then what was the point of working so hard? I decided to put up a fight by getting into therapy. For the next eight years, I worked really hard to recognize and silence that nagging internal critic. And at times, I even believed that she’d left for good.

Then a year ago, a friend of mine competed in her first triathlon to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. As I watched her train, I was equal parts enthralled and horrified. The running and biking seemed brutal enough, but the open-water swimming was unimaginable.

When my husband decided he was going to join her in the next triathlon, the voice returned with a vengeance: Don’t even think about it, America! You’re the fat kid. The procrastinator. The quitter. You have cellulite. YOU ARE NOT A TRIATHLETE!

“O.K., I’ll do it!” I yelled the words desperately. Sensing my own self-doubt, I doubled down, announcing my triathlon plan on every social media platform I have.

Every time my alarm went off at 6 a.m. on a Saturday, I deeply questioned the decision: What the hell was I thinking? Whenever I tried to run, an old shoulder injury would flare up. The pain was excruciating. I would trudge along trying to think of ways to get out of this commitment. I could get sick. I could get called out of town for work. Maybe a car could hit me … lightly?

One day as I was miserably running laps, my coach Jerome said to me, “I don’t know what you’re saying to yourself when you reach that pole, but you need to change it.” I was annoyed and exhausted, but mostly I was creeped out. Was he psychic?! Every single time I passed that pole and looked up to the last 100 meters of my lap, the voice would start to scream: Who do you think you are? You can’t do this! Just stop and accept you’re a failure!

It occurred to me then that if I really wanted to make it through this challenge, I needed to rewrite my inner dialogue.

On my next run, I gave it a try. As I approached the last leg of my lap, and the sensation that I might throw up or pass out began to rise, I dug out my inner Beyoncé. I began to chant: I’m a survivor. I’m not gone give up. I’makeep running, ’cause a winner don’t quit on herself!

I sounded like a crazy person, and it still hurt like hell. My shoulder, my lungs, my legs — my whole body ached. But for the first time, I didn’t feel beaten down at the end of a run. I felt like a badass.

When I had to start swimming in the ocean, I added a new line to my mantra: You are a warrior, you are strong, and sharks are not real. And in I went. Although I wasn’t graceful or fearless, I was swimming in the ocean at 7 a.m. on a Saturday.

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Who the hell was I? And what else was I capable of that I had never dared to try?

Slowly, I stopped thinking about training as a physical challenge. It became mental. The true exercise was to keep the negative thoughts at bay for as long as I could.

How many strokes could I take before the fear needed a breath of air? How many miles could I run before my shoulder wanted to start telling her story again? How far up the hill could I pedal before I felt the urge to give up?

I began to have a real conversation with my mean, scared voice. I even began to understand her fear. She’d only wanted to save me from humiliation and failure. She was protecting me the best way she knew how, and I learned to appreciate that, even if I no longer required her services.

On the day of the race, I only had two goals: (1) finish and (2) stay positive. I am proud to say that I accomplished both.

I swam a mile in the ocean (not a shark in sight), biked 25 miles and then finally began to run the last 6.2 miles. The homestretch.

As I powered past people, more often than not, they would start walking. I’m going to be honest — the first few times, it felt good. But by the third or fourth time, it lost its novelty.

I know how it feels to be passed by. I know how it feels to allow someone else’s success to be my own failure. I know all too well how hard it is to battle a nasty inner voice.

So I started to talk to each person I passed. I smiled as I hurled cringe-worthy enthusiasm their way. “GO, GIRL!” “You GOT this, man!” “We’re almost there!” My only goal was to yell louder than the voices in their heads. And you know what? People smiled back. Some started running again.

When I crossed the finish line, I didn’t cry, which shocked me, because I am a crier. It wasn’t until two days later, on a flight to New York, that the reality of what I had actually done hit me and the tears began to flow. I didn’t just complete a triathlon. For five months, I showed up to defend myself against a scared and angry voice. In the end, I didn’t eradicate her. But I had transformed her.

With every step, stroke and pedal, I turned “No, I can’t” into “Yes, I can,” “I’m limited” into “Look what I’m capable of,” and “I’m weak” into “I am whole, healthy and strong.”

I finally got my answer to that question: Who do you think you are?

I am whoever I say I am. And I am a triathlete.

America Ferrera

The actress stars on “Superstore” on NBC.

A version of this article appears in print on December 4, 2016, on page AR22 of the New York edition with the headline: … I Did a Triathlon

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Triflare Tribe

Posted in training for my first half ironman with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 20, 2016 by runmyssierun

Triflare is an incredibly amazing company that designs colorful stylish workout gear that not only looks like it could take over the cat walks of Milan but can also accellerate  performance levels to place you on a podium! So when they surprised me with a feature on their blog…  I was BEYOND honored!!! Here it is 🙂

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http://triflare.com/blogs/news/triflare-tribe-member-myssie-cardenas-barajas

Triflare Tribe Member Myssie Cardenas-Barajas

September 20 2016

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Meet Myssie Cardenas-Barajas Triflare ambassador from the great state of Texas!

Myssie first got involved in athletics because of loss in her life. In 2011, Myssie lost three family members to cancer. It was during this painful time that she found comfort in running with Team in Training. She needed a way to work through her grief, while at the same time desiring to raise money for cancer organizations. She not only found comfort by surrounding herself with those who had survived, but she found her love of swimming, biking and running.

She bought her very first pair of running shoes and ran her very first block in 2011. By the end of 2012, she had run 2 full marathons, 6 half-marathons, and countless 5k and 10k’s. Unfortunately (or fortunately!), she injured herself during her second marathon. It was this injury that propelled her into the world of triathlon. Because she was limited in running, her coach recommended swimming and cycling. Of course, she needed to overcome one obstacle – she didn’t know how to swim! With the help of her son, she learned and 10 weeks later, completed her first triathlon!

One of Myssie’s favorite ways to stay motivated when training gets a bit mundane is to create powerful playlists. She loves music and finds that creating a playlist that matches the course elevation helps prepare her for race day. She knows by the songs when a hill is approaching or when she needs to pick up or slow down her pace.

Myssie’s favorite race thus far is not a well-known race. In fact, if you aren’t from Texas, you have likely never heard of it. It’s called “The Hell of the South: HOTS.” And here is why – it’s a 56-mile road bike race along the fence of Texas/Mexico border. The trail consists of asphalt, caliche gravel, sand pits and dirt! But, that’s not even the worst of it! The race is held on July 4 – the hottest time of the year in South Texas. Myssie said, “It was special to me because when I raced it, I was the only female that did this event among many other local and state elite men.”

Myssie hopes to continue inspiring people to get involved in sports. Her advice to newbies is powerful. She said, “I know you’re scared. I know you don’t think you can do it. I also know you’re wrong and you have yet to experience making the impossible possible. You are stronger than you know. Join a team, get a coach, sign up for a bucket list event and just go out an amaze yourself.” She also believes that growth happens when you are pushed out of your comfort zone so, she recommends training with people who are more experienced and better than yourself.

Before each race, Myssie jams out to the Foo Fighters and replays voice messages from her mother and brother. She credits them, Sissy and triathlon for saving her life when she was struggling with grief.

We are so thrilled to have Myssie on our team. She has been through many hard times, and yet she still finds ways to inspire those around her. She definitely inspires us!

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Shark Bait Who-Ha-Ha

Posted in training for my first half ironman with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 16, 2016 by runmyssierun

Promo Ad

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Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928 – 2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc.

 

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What you focus on expands

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 1, 2016 by runmyssierun

So here’s the great thing about open water swim training… swimming with sharks doesn’t only happen in salt water. Facing my fear of swimming, in open water, with sharks, alligators, heebeegeebees, red tide, murky, dark water with no visibility and no idea of what is one inch in front of you… and worst of all… vicious seaweed has forced me to become stronger, confident and able to go toe to toe with any and all aggressors that challenge me. When times get tough, I no longer throw my hands up in the air and give up so easily. I’ve been through tough times, many of them more challenging than most others have been able to survive or even attempt to accomplish. I now know I can do more than I initially thought I could possibly do.

So with that, even though I fail… over and over again.. I rise. Each and every single time. I rise. No matter what.

Swimming with sharks doesn’t happen in just water. Sharks are everywhere. They are the challenges in life, fears you cower from, bullies at school, family or work. Everyone has sharks in their lives. I’ve just been lucky enough to learn how to train myself to continue on through them… albeit slowly but surely.

On that note, I’d like to share with you something profound and uplifting by a teammate of mine who posted this on our team board. He’s an amazing athlete with an equally astounding outlook on life and competition.

TOO MUCH TIME TO THINK ABOUT TIME.

I wanted to make a comment for you to be mindful and think about you’re best not the time.
Stop and think about your best not a deadline. You’re not going to Ironman races just to finish and you are not shooting for for a certain time. You going to show yourself your very best and leave it on the line.
We ask “what time are you shooting for?” Or we say “I’m shooting for sub 12 hours” or “I’m just looking to finish” and then we focus too much on that number.
STOP. You’re not looking to just finish. You’re looking to do what the fastest guys on the planet are looking to do and that is finish it as fast as you can. Maybe that isn’t fast maybe it does hit the deadline time but that shouldn’t be your focus. It should be to push yourself to be the best version of yourself on that day and in that moment.
Don’t train and walk into this or any race shooting for the minimum. You’re better than that and you deserve to see what you have in you. Falling short of goals is normal. There are too many variables that you are not able to factor in. You are picking times in perfect weather, perfect wind, perfect nutrition, no bike malfunctions and everything else to be perfect when making up your times. Nothing is ever gonna be perfect and it is too much stress to put on yourself.
What I say is is that I’m going to throw down the fastest time I have for that day. That is what I have always done and that is what we all do.
I lost the first 19 bike races before I won my first one. I lost many tris before I won one.
Statistically speaking I’m a much bigger looser than I am winner but that is based on numbers and as I just said… Numbers don’t matter. What You believe about yourself does.
You can all finish the race but will you throw down and dig deep to bring out the best version of yourself? That should be your goal.
I used to be the slowest guy on the course. I just knew I wasn’t meant to stay there.

~~Jason Reinhardt

At my workplace, we have a saying “What you focus on expands”

It was brought to my attention that my most recent posts over this last year has focused on my negative nemesis. My lack of strength, injuries, lack of support, and negative nancy comment after negative nancy comment…

So here goes… I’m focusing on my best. Keep me accountable. Because deep down inside me… I know I can do it. I know I can. Now I just need to prove it to myself.

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DNF =Double Nutela Fudge and the journey to 70.3

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 11, 2016 by runmyssierun

Successful people are not those who do not fail. They are those who fail more than anyone and simply refuse to accept it as the conclusion.

failure is not my conclusion

Ok… so I’m not going to sugar coat it. I was WAAAAYYYYY out of my league at my first attempt at a 70.3. I can go on and on with excuses up the wazoo… but I won’t.

But don’t kid yourself… I’m not going to discredit all I have done, either. Remember, I am still relatively new to this and am not a person with a stellar athletic history. Before I go into my sobby pity party story, I’m going to pat myself on the back and gently remind myself of how far I have come under the careful guidance of some exemplary coaches in just four years. Remember, I was not on the track team nor on the volley ball team nor the softball team in high school. I was a Sergeanette drill team member and vice-President of the Homemaking club. Seriously. In college, I dated a soccer player and that was just about as close as I got to being athletic. I was a pathetic, prissy, beauty queen princess that never once experienced a drop of stinky sweat. Ronda Rousey has a term for girls like me. She calls them “DNBs” or “a Do-Nothing_B*tch“. Yep. I’ll admit it. That was me at one time and I think in my youth, I was encouraged to go that direction by many of the people around me. I know better now.

So I’m pretty dang proud of how far I’ve come. I’m not going to rub it in your face and make you think I’m better than you. Because I’m not. I’m no better than anyone else.

The difference now is that I learned the hard way that life is too short and it’s not guaranteed that tomorrow will be here. So I make sure that I live every day to it’s fullest. I have goals. I know in my heart of hearts what the word “success” means to me and I know how to get there. Success means something different for everyone. And here’s a heads up… the definition of success to any one of us can change on a daily basis and none of us need anyone else’s permission to think of it as success or not. If that doesn’t make sense to you now, don’t worry… you’ll get it later when it’s your time to know better.

Ok… so let’s get to the nitty gritty of the Ironman Texas 70.3 at Galveston this weekend.

This event is a year in the making for me. I was supposed to do IM Victoria last year in Canada. After a couple of frightening events, a fear of not being able to fundraise the amount I needed to and a heart crushing text from a fellow teammate that season, I decided to step away from Team in Training that season and post-pone my event for the following one. Two other team mates had chosen to do their Ironman in Austin later that year and after calculating the flight costs, hotel stays and bike transport, it made financial sense to postpone my IM to Austin with them after all that drama.

God had other plans.

Training wasn’t going as well as I had hoped and my body wasn’t cooperating as it had before. A popped IT band, scar tissue around the hip muscles, piriformis syndrome, a bulging disk at L4-L5 and herniated disk at L5-S1 put a bit of a damper on my expectations. The Longhorn IM in Austin sold out just at the same time the doc told me I needed to have more therapy done. So here we are… one year later… at IM Galveston.

Let the games begin.

Galveston’s event was positioned perfectly between the anniversary death dates of my Mother (April 8) and my baby brother Donny (April 11) right smack on April 10, 2016. The emotional state of being on those two dates and each day in between is not one that I recommend to anyone. Factor in the stress of competing for a half Ironman on that in between date and any one of us would be knocked into a whole new world of crazy. Add to this, I lost my temper and in my weakness allowed myself to enter into a fight about something ridiculously stupid and meaningless…. and it continued for days. Long story longer… my head was not in the game. I lost focus on my goal. On my marathons and triathlons that I’ve done well in, I noticed that I was taken away from my normal environment for a few days, surrounded by people who fortified my mindset with positive reinforcement, removed from my every day stress, problems and negative people and allowed my brain to be convinced that I could do anything I set my mind to. And I did.

Mistake #1 – I wasn’t focused on the finish.

A year of injury, a holiday season of overeating and twenty pounds of extra tires around my belly and thighs made my paces competitive with molasses and turned squeezing into my wet suit equal to a heart rate zone 4 cardio experience. In a desperate attempt to fit into my wet suit, I drastically reduced my calorie intake the two months prior to my HIM (half ironman). Now, every great athlete understands the importance of calorie intake during hard trainings. Clearly I am still not a great athlete and in my stubborn and vain stupidity, thought it was a priority to be able to fit into a wet suit over mastering the endurance of a tough workout. On the days that I did eat properly, I had exceptional workouts. *I love the to-go bowls and pre-prepped meals at Fit Fillet!!! I hit goal paces at long swim workouts, conquered the mountain on Zwift Island on my bike and comfortably ran my fartleks on the days I ate right. On those days where I felt a bit bloated or didn’t get enough rest, I skipped my meals and thought I could live off of a shake for the day. Yeah, sure… I was seeing my waist go down again but I burned out quickly on those days, too.

Game day – Sunday, April 10 – wetsuit zipped up easily. The weight had been lost. But I also lost a lot of strength. I knew that was part of the bargain… I just didn’t realize how much strength I would risk. In hindsight, I don’t think I played my cards right on this one. I got up at 3:45a.m. Hit snooze until 4:00a.m Got up. Got dressed. Packed. Prayed. Drank the last swing of what was left in the Pedialyte bottle from the night before and drove to transition and body marking. *Hindsight – invest in an RV so that you can just sleep in the parking lot at the event!!! That was a smart move I learned from the experienced triathletes there!!!

5:00a.m. body marked

5:15 a.m. set up transition area.

I met Cecelia Carroll. She complimented me on my bike and the matching orange arrangement of my entourage. I explained to her why I race with orange and she immediately teared up. “I lost my dad to cancer three years ago.” We hugged and cried. “Thank you for this moment. I needed this.” She told me. Cecelia would go on to rank #83 in our AG with a 7:20 time.

I exited transition to wait in the porta-potty line. Nerves had hit me and hit me hard. This may be TMI to you but it’s the truth. I am normally extremely constipated but when nerves hit me, I break out into hives and plant myself on the toilet until all’s well. And I did just that and boy did I let it all out. Uh oh. I kinda felt real sorry for the next person in line.

Now, let me tell you a little bit about my kit. See, I wear orange at all my races in honor of my Momma. It was her favorite color and she said it was the happiest color on Earth. So when Triflare created the “Sun Star” trikit, I knew this was as close to perfect for me and my vision of the promise I made. Triflare asked me to be an ambassador for them this year and I gladly accepted. Their designs, colors and fit are like no other triathlon kits I’ve worn and am honored to be a member of the triflare tribe. One other Triflare ambassador was there, too, although she is a professional triathlete and wears their kits not just for the pretty colors but for the performance standards. She is Sarah Haskins. Sarah ended up winning the whole shebang that day.

So imagine this… I’m exiting the porta-potty in my yellow and orange sun star Triflare trisuit looking quite smashing and I ask the woman propped up by the table near by to please zip me up. And she does… like a pro. No literally. Really. I turned around to thank her… It’s freaking Sarah Haskins!!! She’s beautiful!

6:30a.m. I meet up with Team Healey (they adopted me this season as a team member) under the transition entrance and walk in unison to the swim entry like superheros in their super hero suits except that we were a bunch of over grown adrenaline junkies in neoprene scared outta our wits but trying our best to hide it behind nervous giggles and wide eyes that never blinked.

6:45 a.m. waiting at the swim entry.

6:50 a.m. watching the pros warm up on their swim.

7:00 a.m. the pros start their swim

an hour goes by…

and fifteen more minutes

8:16 a.m. I ask if it’s ok that I have an orange swim cap instead of the yellow cap that the rest of my age group is wearing. IM volunteer responds with “If you’re ok with it, go ahead.” I give him a thumbs up. On the dock I see my first triathlon coach Sandy Overly and Maniac champion, Teresa Mancabelli. They look so comfortable! So pro! That’s because they really are! And then off in the distance I see a familiar face… one that I haven’t seen in years, like since high school graduation!!! Melissa Macheska!!! We zoom over to each other and have a total of 20 seconds to catch up, hug and wish each other well until…

OMG I’m so thirsty. OMG I have to pee. OMG I’m so hungry.

Why does this happen to me right before…

JUMP!

And I jumped into the water feet first with hands over my goggles.

Hey, this isn’t as cold as I thought it would be. It’s actually pretty nice. The water was a bit murky and from the bottom looking up, it kinda looked like weak dirty old coffee water. I slowly floated up and Whew! Thank goodness I used that anti fog liquid the day before and did it right! These goggles look great! No smears. No leaks. A bit snug though. I wonder if having them this tight will give me a headache. I hope not. Last thing I need is a head ache right now… does my head hurt? Is that a headache I’m feeling? Oh no. I better not be getting sick. Last thing I need is to be getting sick right now or a fever.. oh no… not a fever…or is this because I didn’t have coffee… oh no… I’ve got a caffeine headache and that won’t go away until I have coffee and these guys on kayaks don’t have coffee…It’s going to take me about 45 minutes to finish this swim and get to land so I can get coffee… and wait.. they won’t have coffee at transition… was there a starbucks on the bike course? I don’t remember seeing one.. no, every bike course has a coffee shop on it…

See folks… what we have here is Myssie’s head in full motion.

BANG! The gun goes off and age group 45-50 begin swimming.

That whole conversation in my head happened in 4.5 seconds flat. And… we’re off.

The water is like glass. It wasn’t choppy like how I had thought it would be. This is nice! Woah bucko!!! A swimmer goes over my right side. Blam! ugh! There’s kick #1 to my face. And… boom! Swimmer with crazy sharp toenails gets me to the left. Come on guys! Ease up on the rookie here!

Alright Myssie… keep your breath controlled and pace yourself. Easy. Easy. Nice. There you go! That’s how you do it! Boom! Boom! You got this baby!!! OMG! This is actually happening! This is really happening! And you’re doing it! You’re doing it! You’re going to finish this thing and you’re going to be awesome! Look at that! You’re spotting! You’re swimming pace is solid! And controlled! And you’re passing those buoys one by one!! Ha! And you thought this was going to be hard! Girl, you got this! If this is the hardest part, you’re going to go straight into the full like all papitas!!!

And just like that…it all came crashing down.

The swimmer behind me was having problems and he called out to a kayak for help. A jet ski zoomed over immediately and pulled him out. That jet ski clearly forgot the whole “no wake” rule and sprayed me with gasoline and slammed me with endless waves. By the time I got to buoy #5, I had to hold on to it, grab a hold of my temper and wonder if I had enough energy to punch the jet ski guy in the face for the last three times he zoomed by me and slammed me with waves. The kayaker nearby asked if I was ok. I joked back with him,”Ya, I’m ok. I’m just having a problem finding the lane lines in this water.” He laughed back at me and said “Oh yeah… they’re down there but it’s pretty deep. You’re going to have to look harder. Anything else I can help you with?” “Yeah,” I yelled back at him,”would you call in my stunt double now? I could use her help.” he laughed.

The notorious winds caught up by this time and the waves officially became choppy. Not only that, but the current got super strong! I was so impressed with my sighting, I knew I was going straight… but the current by that time had increased in strength and was able to move me like I was a plastic bag floating in the wind. I was like one of those cartoon characters where the arms and legs were spinning in Tasmanian Devil speed but going no where fast. By buoy #8, both calves in my legs had cramped up and my back cramped and I couldn’t see straight anymore. The whole world went blurry. My goggles were 20/20 clear but I couldn’t focus on anything. I’m not sure how to describe it other than I knew one thing was located in one place but I saw it in a completely different direction and fuzzy. I was hungry and thirsty and was clearly dehydrated. I was swallowing water, breathing in water and it wasn’t super salty like the bay at South Padre Island that I was used to. It tasted like what I imagined metal or gasoline would taste like. Not wanting to freak out… I allowed it to drip back behind my nostrils and down my throat. It felt slimy and nasty but I took it. I heard the crowd at the swim finish and knew I had already wasted too much time. I couldn’t kick because of the cramps and was relying only on my arms… my weakest part of my body. In cycling… we call this “bonking”. Obviously, I’m not a swimmer so I’m not sure if there is a term that matches the equivalent of bonking.  But that’s what happened.

“Bring it in orange cap! Come on! Bring it in!” the kayaker cheered me on.

I was on the last turn in and I could hear the roar of the cheers. Swim!!!! Swim Myssie! Give it all you have! 

Why is the Swim finish facing the other direction? Your eyes are playing tricks on you! Don’t believe what you see! But where am I? Where am I going? I’m lost!!!

Mistake #2: Hydrate and nourish your body correctly before and during your big event.

After the kayaker steered me to the direction I was supposed to be going, I made my way onto the swim exit ramp, took my first step and boy was it a doozie! I swear if the rail wasn’t made of sturdy wood and waist high, I would have fainted right smack back into the water. It held me up. I slowly took the next few steps and the girl under the arch said “Congratulations… you made it. They’ll take your wet suit off at the end” but no one was cheering… no one was there. Everyone was gone.

“I’m sorry. I have to take your time chip now.”

What? What do you mean you have to take the time chip? Aren’t you supposed to take my wet suit off of me?

Wait… oh… ohhhhhhh!!!! Oh noooooo

That’s when it hit me.

I looked down at my garmin… 1:14

SHIT

I went four minutes over. They DNF’ed me.

With my head hung low… I proceeded onto my walk of shame down the artificial green grass turf from Swim Exit to T1 where no one but four volunteers and six other DNFs congregated around like zombies in the Walking Dead. Exhausted, dizzy and pissed off I sat at the foot of my Mimi and began to cry.

I couldn’t ride her. That was it. A whole year of training. A whole year of sacrifice. All that expense. Everything… for this moment… and I blew it. My best wasn’t good enough.

I got my gear bag and searched for my phone. I wanted to call my mom. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted her to tell me it was ok, that she knew I tried my best and I’ll get it next time. I wanted to feel her hug me. I wanted to get on my bike and go.

But I didn’t. I sucked it up and called my husband completely defeated, embarrassed and humiliated by my lack of … everything. The event volunteers were standing right behind me.

“DNF number Twenty six fifty one. Next.” – ugh! That hurt! Seriously? They had to do that right there like that?

I packed up my gear, took Mimi off the rack and rolled her out of transition.

An older gentleman walked along with me,”Was this your first time?”

“Yes sir. Does it show that much?” I responded.

“No. Not at all.” He was a bad liar.”I just hope this isn’t your last is all. I’m at these events a lot and I hope I get to see you here again.”

“You will. Just look for the orange.”

I had parked pretty close by the transition area so it was easy for me to quickly collect and pack all my gear up into my car. That’s when a woman approached me.

“Hi. I was pulling out and leaving when I saw you. I just wanted to tell you that I DNF’ed on the swim, too, and wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. I’ve done this a lot.”

“Was this your 2nd, 3rd… 17th?” I asked.

“I lost count already.” she said smiling.”You did great and you look so beautiful in that orange.” and just ask quickly as she showed up… she disappeared.

So, here’s what I learned…. Ironman is tough serious business. I will never make it if I am around someone who tells me I’m not doing it right, good enough, hard enough, fast enough, long enough. I will make it if I believe I can. I know what to do. I know how to do it. But just like everyone else in this world.. I have doubts in my head that need to be mastered. I cannot do that if I am not focused and I don’t make nutrition and hydration a priority.

Mad props to all who finished IM Galveston. IM and HIM are events that should not be taken lightly. My respect to all who have been there and done that.  Respect to all who attempted as well and did not make it because they were hit by cars or had other obstacles that stopped them from their goals. I know I’ll see you out there again as we go for it again and earn the M dot.

Watch out Captextri. The fire has been lit.

I will finish Longhorn.

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 Lastly, (but surely not in the least) thank you to my friends, co-workers and family who encouraged and supported me. Your cheerleading skills exceed extraordinary levels!!!   

    
 

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Heart rate zone training getting better now

Posted in cancer, cycling, Running, triathlon with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2015 by runmyssierun

This is the first week I’ve finally started to feel pain free and strong during my workouts but still dealing with the headaches of a caffeine-poor body. Unfortunately, I can also feel the additional weight I’ve put on for all these last few months I haven’t been able to do what I had done before. I share the stress and anxiety of my fellow triathlete friend and blogger LoriLynn (You can follow her blog here).

Putting aside the mental need to LOOK a certain way and WEIGH a certain amount and BE a certain size has always been a constant struggle for me. After all, I am that washed up beauty queen that let herself go… (that’s sarcasm). But in all seriousness, that time of my life really did mess with my head about my body image. I’m not going to blame pageantry for that because I think many women endure body image challenges and realizations at that age – and THIS age for that matter! It’s probably even worse at this age (I am 45 by the way). I won the swimsuit portion of the Miss Texas Scholarship pageant at the Miss Rio Grande Valley preliminaries in 1990 and I was even one of the very first Bud Girls swimsuit model. The 90’s was the decade of the waif super model. It was IN to have big Cindy Crawford Guess model hair, smoke cigarettes, never eat and do step aerobics with slouch socks and high top white Kaepas.  20 years and 20 pounds later with two children, this same era of women that endured that decade must now endure either the ridicule of “mom pants” or the embarrassment of “muffin top” with the more hip low-rise jean. Long gone are the days of “Little in the middle but she got much back”. The struggle is real but, thankfully, so is my outlook on myself now. Do I WANT to look like my twenty year old self? Oh hell ya! Will I do what I did back then to get where I was? Oh hell no.

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It’s not rocket science to understand where the weight gain has come from:

  1. A drastic decrease in intense and consistent physical activity over a period of about 6 months

  2. A drastic decrease in heart rate due to the removal of highly caffeinated beverages (i.e. coffee) over a period of 4 weeks

  3. A tremendous desire to NOT fall back into the unhealthy, restrictive eating disorders of my pageant days because now I know the cardiac dangers of being “skinny fat”.

Clearly I've collected a few tires around my belly. Unable to run like I used to and being restricted from core strengthening exercises due to the hip and herniated disk issues, it has become quite embarrassing to show off this bag of flab around town in the most unforgiving spandex lycra known to mankind.

Clearly I’ve collected a few tires around my belly. Unable to run like I used to and being restricted from core strengthening exercises due to the hip and herniated disk issues, it has become quite embarrassing to show off this bag of flab around town in the most unforgiving spandex lycra known to mankind.

A zoomed up version of my point of view over the entire run. They quickly became colorful dots on the horizon.

A zoomed up version of my point of view over the entire run. They quickly became colorful dots on the horizon.

I’ve been gradually trying to increase my running endurance and mileage to catch up to Maritza, Ronnie, Cat and Alex. On Saturday, it was difficult to see them easily jog out a full mile and a half ahead of me while I struggled to remain in my zone 2 and cuss vile words as I was reminded of my pace by my Nike Run app voice from hell. I had purposely removed the pace from the window of my Garmin watch so that I could focus only on distance, heart rate and heart zone. I completely forgot to mute that wicked woman from my Nike App. Oh well, at least I learned what to do the next time I go on my long run and, honestly, it is good to know my pace at that zone so that I can prepare myself for time during practices and race day. It just hurts the ego because all I’ve ever heard up until this point is that you should push yourself to your max and beyond your known limits. It’s supposed to be hard to do these workouts. You should run a mile in less than 10 minutes and even better if you can do less that 8 minutes and then you can run the with VRC regulars once you hit the 6 minute mile level.

My concern now, after learning about heart rate zone training, if after completing so many half marathons and full marathons that took several hours to complete - assuming I was at levels that should have been no more than a few minutes in length, have I done permanent damage to my cardiovascular system?

My concern now, after learning about heart rate zone training, if after completing so many half marathons and full marathons that took several hours to complete – assuming I was at levels that should have been no more than a few minutes in length, have I done permanent damage to my cardiovascular system?

At my zone 2 rate, currently, my one mile times were hitting 13 minutes. *I know, laugh all you want. I wouldn’t put it out for ridicule and comparison if I wasn’t already prepared for the backlash.

So here’s the point I’m trying to make (after all this backstory)… at the end of my eight mile Zone 2 pathetic run, Coach Lori twisted her ankle and slowed down to finish my miles with me.

Coach Lori had to twist her ankle in order for her to slow down enough to keep up with my zone 2 pace.

Coach Lori had to twist her ankle in order for her to slow down enough to keep up with my zone 2 pace.

She kept me in check and had me constantly check my heart rate.  Every single time she told me to check, I was over my zone 2 level. She was in tune with her body and I still wasn’t. She could read when her heart rate was going up and could tell that if I was running alongside her, that mine was obviously up as well. I still need to hone in on that skill so that I don’t exhaust my body before the finish line. This is important and something I have never learned to do! Just as you should push to make yourself fast, you should also strive to calm your heart rate down for empowered endurance.

While on that last mile, she said something that pierced me to the core. “It’s more important for women to understand and regulate our hearts because heart disease kills more women than all cancers combined. We, as women, tend to take care of everyone else but ourselves and it’s our hearts that give out. I lost my mom to heart disease because she was sedentary.” (click here for stats about heart disease that validates what Coach Lori said)

See, the thing is that I really did feel strong in my run. *Granted I did start feeling a little pain in the hip at about mile 4 but it subsided after a while. I also had the best swim in ages just days later. I didn’t feel winded. My breathing is now in control, There is more power in my stroke. My hips are rocking in the water just as I am supposed to be. I’m still slow as molasses but now, with this new little attitude… who cares? And if you care about my pace… you need to ask yourself why you care so much about MY numbers. Worry about yourself. I worry enough about myself. Ok? I had a great swim. I’m not bragging. I’m relieved!!!!

I started running because my Aunt Sissy asked me to run for her after she saw that I was becoming unhealthy. In my mind, I was running to fight cancer for her. In her mind, she wanted me to run to become healthier so I wouldn’t die a premature death like my baby Brother did after dealing with the stress of cancer on top of every day life stress.

But here’s the reality – I run because I don’t think I can do much of anything else to fight cancer and I still have some anger issues with cancer. After all, it stole some of my favorite people in my life. I run because while in Team in Training, Run Walk or Crawl, Running 101, Sandy Overly’s Just Tri Its and Maniacs, Erica’s Super TriLife, and all the other running groups I was/am in… I’ve found a great sense of emotional healing, confidence, camaraderie and support that I do not get in any other part of my life.  I run because my doctors have monitored me and showed me evidence of me becoming a healthier person. I run because I really like the way I was looking. Running made me feel and look younger and more vibrant. Running makes me feel like I can contribute to not just my well being but also help someone else either by inspiring them to also begin a healthy lifestyle or by raising money through Team in Training and using it for cancer research to identify the source of cancer, find a treatment for cancer and make sure that it is affordable and accessible for all those who want it. Add swimming and cycling to this and, goodness, triple all the benefits stated here.

I’ve gone through so many phases of running (and triathlon) and I do not want to change or edit any of my prior posts that document it because I think it’s important and indicative of the way I’ve learned and matured through each sport. I can go back to posts where I saw I was focused on speed, or focused on weight or focused on distance… I ‘mean really.. go walk through any gym, watch any TV commercial, scroll through Pinterest, Youtube or Tumblr running inspirations and you’re going to find so many mixed messages out there. I listened to them and got mixed up myself.

We all have different reasons to workout (or NOT “workout” per se but simply be more active in our lives) . We all have various motivations. After three years of jumping into the health and fitness world of marathons and triathlon, I’ve witnessed my reasons and motivations morph. Each season and every coach has taught me something new about myself that I wanted to improve upon. I hope that never changes. I hope I always want to improve myself. I hope I’m always learning something new about myself. I hope I’m never so pompous as to think that I know it all or better than anyone else out there struggling just like me. I hope I’m never so insecure that I feel the need to constantly compare myself to others and form a hatred stemmed solely from envy. I hope I never lose the joy I have found in this life style and in the people who surround me with encouragement and support.

At this moment, I am not looking at my pace.

At this moment, I am not looking at my scale.

At this moment, I am focusing on my heart health, endurance and form.

At this moment, I am only concerned with being better than I was before and beating one thing and one thing only… CANCER.

I didn't run to beat your timeI ran to

Why do you workout? Do you run? Zumba? Crossfit? Bike? Spartan? Roller Blade? Body Build? Surf? Skate? Walk? Swim? Dance? What do you do and why do you do it? Do you WANT to do something but too scared to start? If so, what is it that you want to do?

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Things triathletes never think to ask until it’s too late

Posted in cycling, Running, triathlon with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2015 by runmyssierun

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???

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Or hold it until you get on your bike? Are you kidding me?

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But I’m a GIRL!!!! I can’t just pull it out like that plus how do you do that in bibshorts?!?!?!

Click here to read how a girl can pee during her bike ride of a triathlon

Runner’s trots? What’s that?

Even the best of the best (Paula Radcliffe) gets runner's trots.

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.

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?

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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.

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!!!

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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.

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?

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Listen to your heart… rate

Posted in triathlon with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 13, 2015 by runmyssierun

Be the weed that grows between the cracks of the concrete. The weed grows because it does not know it isn’t supposed to be there among the strong concrete. It struggles but survives and looks for the sunshine every single day. The weed never really belonged where it was and even when others tried to pluck it out, it knows it must continue or it will die.

I see no shame any more from being a weed anymore in a world where I never really quite belonged. I find strength in it now.  

What a week!!! I’ve made a major effort to minimize my caffeine intake down to normal human being levels… and no one has been murdered yet by my hands. (Whew! That’s a good sign.)

I can walk into or go to drive thru at my local Starbucks and they have my “regular” (Venti hot caramel macchiato skinny and upside down with a straw) ready for me AND call me Angelina Jolie to make my day. Yes, I know.. they spoil me! And I love it!

“Hello Angelina Jolie! Would you like your regular today? Or your Venti caramel skinny latte with two splendas?” asks Starbucks barista Alex in the morning 🙂

So when I made the move to decaf after ten years of the same drink order… I think a memo may have gone out to all the Starbucks employees – and our local PD may be on high alert to watch out for me. I dunno… what do you think?

Can you read the label? I think they're afraid it may the first sign of the apocalypse.

Can you read the label? I think they’re afraid it may the first sign of the apocalypse.

It seems that my coffee addiction is wreaking havoc on my heart rate training. In an effort to do my best to continue this crazy promise, I need to put a curb to my addiction to Joe and begin my affair with Zone 2. I find it odd that it’s difficult for me to train in this manner.  These last few years, all I’ve ever heard from people who I train with is “you can push harder”, “No pain – No gain”, “train insane or remain the same” so I’ve become used to pushing my limits and going hard – as hard as I possibly can – during my trainings.

I have an incredible new coach this season with Team in Training. I’ve known her for a while and admired her drive and accomplishments so when she agreed to coach the team this season, I was thrilled!!!

THIS IS COACH LORI

THAT'S MY COACH! LORI TIJERINA... and yes, that's her finishing time!!!

THAT’S MY COACH! LORI TIJERINA… and yes, that’s her finishing time!!!

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She’s a beast and she knows what she’s doing, how to do it and how I need to adjust to do it, too. Keeping my workout routines but instead of focusing on speed and distance, she has me focusing on my heart rate zones.

Do you know what your zone are??? Here, try it out yourself.

http://www.digifit.com/heartratezones/training-zones.asp

Did you plug in your digits? Did you see where you are supposed to be at Zone 2? Ok, good. Now get that heart rate monitor and go run some intervals and try to keep it at Zone 2 and your regular run pace consistent. Or try doing a long run, say 8 miles and see how long it takes you to complete if you never go over your Zone 2 max number.

NOT SO EASY EH????

I don’t take pre-workouts. I don’t take any of that Advocare, Zeal, Plexus, IDlife, Herbalife, etc. or any other medication that messes with your heart rate and blood pressure. But I do drink an average of two pots of coffee a day. I know… I know.

So now, I’m on week three of extremely limited caffeine intake – not gonna tell you how much because I still have issues and I may go postal from admitting how bad I am and it’s none of your beeswax anyway. And there haven’t been any fatalities… yet. (Heavy emphasis on the YET) Can you feel my pain???

To date, so far I’ve gone from 135/89 in May to 128/78 in June to 120/73 this past Thursday. Baby steps in the right direction.

I’ve been consistent in my workouts and finally felt a difference yesterday in my swim. My breathing was very controlled. I get myself really worked up I guess because I see so many awesome athletes by me doing phenomenal things and I want to do them, too, forgetting that I don’t have the athletic experience and foundation that they have. These things take time and I have to constantly remind myself of that. sigh

I have also taken advantage of the network of doctors that I work around closely with. Adding Dr. Joel Solis and Dr. Joey Cadena has been reassuring to me this week as well. I should get some results from their findings later next week.

While some of my trainings have been under the radar, I’ve had some fun posting my anxiety filled musings on social media. Here’s some of them…

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Oh! By the way… it’s that time again to begin looking for sponsors this season. Would you like to sponsor me and/or the Team? See that donation box? No??? Oh… ok.. I’ll just post it here for your convenience. Feel free to drop in $20 or $200 or $2000. However, if you would like recognition – and I’m all about sponsor recognition – contact me to see how we can partner up to beat cancer.

And the link is here, too: https://donate.lls.org/tnt/donate?programGroupName=TNT&fundraiserPageID=2068254&participantFirstName=Myssie&participantLastName=Cardenas-Barajas&displayName=Myssie%20Cardenas-Barajas&fundraiserPageURL=http://pages.teamintraining.org/sctx/yourway16/mcardenasb

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My third Stanley’s Triathlon

Posted in Mom, triathlon, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 22, 2015 by runmyssierun
The Real Stanley

The Real Stanley

So before I do my recap of today’s triathlon, let me tell you a little bit about WHY this event means so much to me. See, I’m a daughter who loved her mother and I do lots of crazy stuff in her memory and honor so that others don’t have to experience this pain that she went through with cancer. When children do incredible things for their parents, it tells me that those parents did something right. They showed real love to these children, the kind that garners life-long respect and admiration. Something that I thought every child received is actually a rarity now.

A little over three years ago, I met a young, kind, and generous man by chance while posing for a photo shoot by Mid-Valley Events Athlete of the Week story at his bike shop.  It didn’t take long for this guy to take me from marathons to triathlons. I was hurt anyway from the marathon that I had done and was using triathlon to continue my training while my feet were healing. I borrowed my husband’s bike and took it to him to get fitted and I guess he either felt sorry for me or he knew I was way in over my head or it was a combination of the two… but he took me under his wing for probably the same reason I admire him… we both love our mothers and do these crazy things for them in their honor.

Stanley, the namesake of this triathlon, is a seeing eye dog. He was his mother’s seeing eye dog. Stanley is no longer here but lives on through this sport of triathlon in La Joya, Texas.

Proceeds from this triathlon go towards the organization Guiding Eyes for the Blind.

Because Wally supports me in all my crazy adventures, I’m going to make sure I make Stanley’s triathlon an annual event on my calendar and support him as much as I can. Because we both have extraordinary moms and that’s just what good kids do.

Want to know more about this? Here’s the link: Guidingeyes.org

And my recap…

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Ok, it’s no secret that my training has been a tad bit wacky and unconventional lately so I was a bit worried about how I would perform today. Nerves were hacking their way through me as I drove in… no coffee, tired (the last couple of days I’ve been living on just a few hours of continuously disrupted sleep) worried that I had forgotten something really important. I unloaded, asked Nesta (who had parked near me) to zip me up (told you I was tired) and made my way to body marking and bike check at transition. I was happy to see Alex eagerly waiting for me to remove my jacket so she could body mark me and then –again — purposely picked the very last bike rack to set up shop.

I carefully placed everything in the order that Coach Sandy taught me, got my earbuds, picked out my playlist and immediately began warming up with a stretch and a short, casual jog and then found a quiet place to sit and listen to my saved voicemails from Donny and Momma. This – this right here – keeps me grounded and focused on my WHY.

I’m surrounded by extremely gifted athletes that train very, very hard. There’s a few newbies, too. Scared and nervous and wondering what they got themselves into… I remember that feeling. And this is when I remind myself to do the absolute best I can do today and that, yes, I will hurt and yes, I will be out of my comfort zone for a while… but I am no quitter and I am not here to compete and I am not here to injure myself, either. I know how to listen to my body now. I know when to push my limits. And I know when to bring it down now. These are great things to know!

There’s something quite extraordinary about triathlon training. You get to know a lot about yourself – things you never really thought you needed to know. I think I’m a better person now because of this. No… correction. I KNOW I’m a better person now because of this.

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I jump into the pool and within seconds I can gather that just a few swimmers ahead of me there’s a person struggling and they’re going to back up all the other swimmers because no one wants to pass them. I scan my way over to the other side of the pool and there are families cheering their participants on and quickly pan over to the opposite side and I see German examining each swimmer, locking in on form, speed and safety.

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Number 9 GO!

I push off from the ledge like a torpedo and don’t come back up for air until I’m half way into the pool. My stroke was conservative and on point. As I entered the third lap, I felt my breathing accelerate and caught myself in time to calm myself down. This was also about the time when I caught up to the struggling swimmer. I tapped their foot and passed them. Went forward a few more and saw Maritza holding her nose at the ledge of the pool.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

“He kicked my nose!” she shrieked.

Boom! I took off, passed him and thought about doing the same to him… but didn’t. The thought was evil enough for my revenge. Eh, I’m sure he just got freaked out a bit with all the crowd in a lane and just hit her by accident.

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I exited the pool and in one graceful swoop took off my swim cap and goggles while jogging barefoot to transition in what I was hoping was a Bo Derek moment… but let’s be serious.. even I know I was moving like a walrus.

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Transition was a blur – literally. I felt like I was going to faint. I guess I just stopped too soon or something but when I leaned over to slip my shoes on… the world kinda did a little twirl around me. I grabbed onto the bike rack and got my bearings, snapped my helmet in place and took “Mimi” off her rack.

Here we go… my favorite part!

Click click click click my shoes went and I trotted through transition to the mount line. Remembering my little dizzy spell, I went to the side so that others wouldn’t rear end my clumsy butt and carefully leaned over to begin my ride. It had rained pretty hard the day and night before and it left puddles of uncertainty all over the road, especially around the first corner but let me tell you after I got out of the event area… I booked it like there was no tomorrow. Off the seat I went.

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click click

I went into the hard gears and savored that wind against my face!!! Man oh man that felt awesome! It wasn’t like the wind at the Jalapeno 100 a couple of weeks ago… this was different. It was a welcoming, friendly, how you doing kinda breeze. It’s a little deceiving, too, because you start dancing with those sneaky rolling hills on Jarachinas Road!! You don’t see them coming really but you feel them in your legs and before you know it… boom! Elevation!!! Change gears!!!

The sun was up, fellow triathletes are all cheering me on and delicate periwinkle colored flowers were blooming along the fenceline… it was so so so very pretty!!! Oh my gosh! Wait… where’s the drama? Every single time I am in La Joya… something really crazy happens.

The first time I did Stanley’s, an SUV filled with illegal aliens almost clipped me as they tried to escape into the brush nearby and then I fell off my bike at the dismount line going into T2. The second time I did Stanley’s, my saddle sack with the required flat repair kit fell off on the drive over to the race that morning! I ended up riding my bike with my running fuel belt on and an extra tire kit packed inside!

I should have known something crazy was going to happen.

Just when I thought I was going to have a drama free event, Maritza passes me and seconds later she wails out in agony and plop goes her bike into the grass. From my point of view, it looked like her leg popped out and was only still by her side because her shoe was clipped in to her bike!! Screaming from a patch of grass and her bike on top of her, I jumped off my bike to help. Two other cyclists did the same. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she exclaimed,”Your times!! I’m ruining your times!” Silly girl thought that being on a podium was more important than her. Thank goodness it was just a cramp. She got back up after a few minutes, stretched her leg out and finished the race.

I know the rules. I’m not supposed to help other racers. I risked disqualification but there’s a point where the real Myssie pops out and punches the pseudo competitor facade and takes over. This is Maritza. She is a friend. You cannot leave her. No race is worth that. I’m sorry. It’s just not how Momma raised me. I really though she had broken her leg and if I had left her like that, she would have been in serious agony for God only knows how long. I thought I had it all on my gopro… but I hit the wrong button… again. 😦 Bummer.

I saw Sandy about a quarter mile ahead of me. Nah, I’m not going to speed up and take it away from her. This was her first triathlon. That was third place right there in my age group and I was letting it go. And I smiled and felt absolutely wonderful knowing that she was going to feel on top of the world in just about an hour. I rode the rest of way back about three bike lengths away from Maritza just to make sure she was ok and wouldn’t cramp up again. I’m glad I did that. I would have felt awful if it did happen again and no one was there to help her.

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T2 zoomed by and off I went a-running.. er a-jogging… er I was moving in the direction of the course. My feet felt like concrete. They were so heavy and I was honestly very disappointed because I had had a fabulous run earlier this week. But to be fair, I hadn’t had a good solid “brick” training and I was angry at myself. I deserved this. Regardless, I trotted on. It was a short two mile stretch and although I was slow, I was on a consistent pace with no signs of stopping. Good!

As I reach a little over half way, I see Coach Chavez beginning her run and I notice the struggle in her face. I haven’t known her for very long but I can pick up on body language and knew her enough to note that she needed some pushing. So I cross the street and decide to do the run portion over again so I can make sure she’s not struggling alone. I think she panicked for a while and didn’t understand what I was doing at first and when it sunk in, she said, “You don’t have to go this slow. You can go ten steps for…”

I stopped her there. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m fine.” I said curtly so that I wouldn’t get any other arguments. Plus it was probably my only chance to not get an argument from her since she was out of breath. I had the advantage in this conversation hehehehe

She said a few curse words… mostly the “F” word but that’s her style and it’s what works for her and I pushed her as best I could with encouragement. Between the vulgar language, she blurted,”I just wanted to finish this… (this part was inaudible) to be last.”

“You’re going to finish. You’re not going to be last. I’ll be last.” I said very matter-of-factly.

So as we were about a half block away from the finish line, she said,”Don’t be last. Finish this with me.”

And that was the smile I carried into the finish line.

The best Last Place finish to date. It is in journeys like these that you finally figure out what really matters in life. Kindness, encouragement and finishing what you started are just some of the lessons I've learned. I've crossed many finish lines but I'm far from finished. :)

The best Last Place finish to date. It is in journeys like these that you finally figure out what really matters in life. Kindness, encouragement and finishing what you started are just some of the lessons I’ve learned. I’ve crossed many finish lines but I’m far from finished. 🙂

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Thank you to those Dos Guys, all the sponsors and volunteers for yet another extremely well organized and produced event.

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