See Different. Do MORE

See Different. Do More

June in Chicago uniquely portrays a scene out of the “Awakening”.   As a matter of fact there is even a music festival called “Spring Awakening”.   Apropos as it is, June brought an inspiring event that similarly “awakened” many athletes to See Different and Do More.

For those of you that didn’t know (or those of you that heard my relentless raving…here’s one more plug) Chris Lieto happens to be my favorite triathlete.   I’ve “met” him many times and each time as star struck as the next teenie bopper belieber!   In March, Matt Miller, founder of C Different and overall bad ass, invited me to Dallas, as a volunteer supporting the BASE performance and DFW tri club kick off event.   Can you guess who the guest of honor was? Lieto!   It was only then that I experienced these philanthropists live.   I saw the community come together that weekend and was breathless at the amount of inspiration and support ALL of the athletes gave. 

 As I made my way back to Chicago, I thought about the things that Matt said to our big ol’ small community.  I thought about the experiences that Lieto shared and why he chose to be actively involved with the reconstruction of various communities.  I thought about my own journey and how easily I reside in my own head instead of using my capabilities and time to support others.   I wanted to DO MORE.

June 2, 2014 Chris Lieto and Matt Miller came to Chicago for our See Different. Do MORE fundraising event benefitting both charities.   Fitness Formula Clubs (the ONLY USAT certified performance center in the Midwest) stepped up and helped us host this event.  VIP ticket holders enjoyed an intimate, gourmet 3- course dinner and some of the nicest wine and brewery options as well as photo and autograph opportunities on the red carpet with Matt and Chris. 

As 8pm approached, and our guests doubled, the staff cleared the dining room and reset for the question and answer session.    The room filled with athletes, supporters and even some people who did not even know Chris and Matt.   Matt Miller, first took the most epic selfie, THEN began to speak about CDifferent with an air of harmonious conviction about what it actually means to See Different.   The CDifferent foundation came to life, after Matt noticed a blind passerby during a photo shoot.  He was inspired to use his abilities to begin this foundation of pairing visually impaired athletes with sighted ones in order to participate in competition.   CDifferent has now grown world wide thanks to Matts efforts.

Chicago’s own, Israel Antonio, took the floor as a beneficiary of the CDifferent organization.   Israel stands, reaches his hand out into the space, looking for his guide to lead him to the microphone.   He turns to face the room full of people that can see him, but he “see’s” nothing.   Israel lost his sight at 14 due to retinal detachment, without any warning.  While I cannot begin to tell his story with the same passion, I do know that every person in that room was moved by Israel’s bravery and compassion.  While Israel and many of these athlete’s are wildly independent, considering he was invited to represent USA in London last September, still it would be near impossible for them to race without their guides.   As Isra left the morale high with his segment of the event, the only thing you could hear was the beating hearts of all that attended- it was truly humbling and uplifting.

Lieto enters stage right and begins his story with a video.  Chris must have an innovative staff of videographers that have the gift of capturing the perfect balance of kicking ass and capturing hearts because if you have ever witnessed any of these videos, you would melt like butter in a frying pan.  This unique blend of hunger and humility is exactly who I know Lieto to be.   He’s a magnanimous machine, multifaceted and outwardly focused.  He drew the audience closer with his stories of the “exotic” countries he’s visited and how he realized that while he was competing for a title, these small villages were competing for their prosperity.  Chris spoke about MORE than sport bringing communities together to meet the needs of those less fortunate in MANY capacities.   Every guest in the place leaned so far in to listen I thought they would fall out of their seats.   The floor then opened for question and answer with what seemed to be everyone’s “good friend” Chris Lieto!   I believe that a professional athlete of this status that can be as open and captivating as Lieto is speaks volumes to his character.    It is a far jump across a puddle for Lieto to leave his life in Hawaii to attend our little city’s charity event, however the amount of awareness and support he, Matt and Isra created is limitless.

 We ended the evening on a high note when we presented the proceeds from our ticket sales, raffles and a little fundraising page we put together in an oversized check to MORE than Sport and CDifferent foundation.   They say it takes a village, and I agree, for had it not been for all the support of my little Chicago village, the community and the dedicated hearts, none of this would have come to be. 

It’s funny how the universe works.   I would like to challenge all of you to DO MORE, even if you are a little lost in your personal life, focus outward and you will bring others and yourself a more fulfilling life. 

Special thank you to all of our sponsors and supporters:

Fitness Formula Clubs

BASE Performance

Team to End Aids

SIP

Eggsperience

More than Sport

CDifferent

Chris Lieto

Matt Miller

Austin Sunderman

Israel Antonio

Chris Navin

Trevor Hougardy

Tony and Kelly Demakis

Nic King Ruley

Nigel O’Reilly

Limitations-Schmimitations

It's been awhile since I have shared anything with the cyber-world, and I would like to give a big apology up front.

My recent transition from Texan to Chicagoan has definitely provided a variety of life lessons and the last year of quiet thoughts keeps leading me back to one very large space: limitations. I want to share this entry from my book with anyone who is bored enough to read it, in hopes that there is a deeper understanding of what overcoming this means.  

"I do not long for the good old days, even though I love the remember whens. I do not think I am a product of my environment; rather I will be a producer of my environment. I was brought up as close to poverty as one can govern, but my mind is my wealth. The biggest distinction in my thoughts than the average Joe’s, is that I will never allow myself to be limited"

This is the unedited chapter of my book, so please forgive the juvenile structure, however my idea is there. The key word and the big, empty space is "limitation".

Isn’t it true that so many of us are conditioned to be "humble" and "selfless" yet often this is sacrificing our own personal happiness? Isn’t it true that we set out to take on a job or a relationship that is merely safe or comfortable rather than a captivating? Isn't it true that we move linearly in life, possibly having glimpses of eccentricity, but quickly refocusing back on the path we are told we should take? I have, time and time again. Most will quit when they experience rejection, or find their way into a difficult and seemingly irreconcilable situation. Most will make excuses or appear as a martyr because they have convinced themselves they have failed. And most will bludgeon their psyche for doing something viewed as snobbery.

Setting limitations on myself has been the worst evil I have ever accomplished. I allowed myself to grow weary and feel weak because I am, in fact, just a bartender. What I am forgetting, is that I AM a bartender. When was it ever subordinate to make money? Since when has a title ever defined me? How did I forget that? I set limitations on myself and created a life that I drag my feet. I have always had big dreams, and always had big ideas but why do I the feel pressure against me?

Jumping states in order to ground myself from the pretensions and glittery possessions is what I thought I was doing. I sold everything I owned, left everyone and every comfort I had to prove to myself I was not shallow. After many months, weeks, days, and hours of thought- perhaps my heart was in the right place but my head was ten steps ahead of me. My point here is not to outline all the "things" I had or the "things" I did, but to understand that I...and you...got there because we are limitless.

The world loves the outgoing, loves the dreamers, and loves the willing and the fearless. They will jump on their shoulders to be a part of those who they see as heroes in professions, relationships or just in life. I am by no means a hero, but I am bigger than I am playing in this game of life.

And that's just it.  My life thus far I have thought, I have seen, I have jumped off a few cliffs without knowing how to operate my parachute. Somehow, I have managed to land safely. By setting limitations on myself, I realize I am sacrificing a very large part of me and not inspiring others to take on their dreams.

Moving forward with my realization, I will challenge myself to continue the power of the non-linear thinking.   I want to be the inspiration in others, even just a single person, which conjures the courage to stop at nothing.  Wouldn’t it be invigorating knowing that “things” do not define us, but rather it was the work behind it that has granted us the power to obtain, simultaneously cultivating self awareness, happiness and inspiration to those who need an extra push”?  I say “limitation-schmimitation”! Don’t settle for anything in life, because maybe you ARE too valuable not to have everything.

Live out Loud,

Jenn

The Relationship Circa

Many  times over I write about the human emotion.   The fear of loving or being loved, the value of  a relationship and the excitement that comes when we actually embrace it with the right counterpart.    I have been residing in Chicago for about 3 months now and a lot of clarity has graced me.   One of the largest struggles I have had in life was intimate relationships.   Now that I am here, alone, I have had time to sift through the ashes of my past and get real with what decisions I am making before, during, and after a relationship.  
If history repeats itself, I can assure you that this psychology will be short.   I teeter between the bad boy and the nice guy...over and over again.   I am attracted to the suave and yet diminishing facade that the bad boy offers.  It is a taste of the wild side.   It is a mind blowing passionate experience that I am all to comfortable with showing to another, or am I just playing that role?    The nice guy, for me, is typically he thinker, the creative, and the brainiac.    I can't help myself against his powers.    He kindles my fire and keeps me grounded.  He shows me the world in  a light even instagram can't replicate, and I spend the entire relationship feeling belittled that my brain doesn't have the same wiring. 
I have pondered what I really want: how tall, how dark, how handsome.   I have made check lists, weighed my options, and read every book around who the perfect mate is.   everyone has their own path to perfection and mine was lost in transcription.   I have realized that it is not about the other person, but knowing who I truly am.    Perhaps the eighth wonder of the world, but themost difficult variable for me is staying OUT of a relationship!    I know,I know, taboo at its finest.   Sure when I  receive a wedding invitation, baby announcement  or any other run of the mill showcasing of relationships, envy may creep in.   However, I have grown in a different direction than those love birds.  I choose to be happy for the chapter they are in their life and parallel that solace to where I am in life.   I can not make some one love me and I will not settle to peer pressure, that's just me.
I am thirty years young and have a lifetime ahead of me.  I have "Jenn" to work out and to be comfortable with forever.   In the words of U2  "I still haven't found what I am looking for", but, I do know who I am looking for- Me.   Until I know myself and accept that I will continue to grow and change, he will never be.

Chicago : My Kind of Town

Welcome to Chicago!  What's your story?  What's your dream? We've all got a dream.
For some, a dream will indefinitely remain just that in either simplistic or the unrestrained perception.   For me, I know it will evolve existence and spread like the wild fire of 1871.

My new home!

I am no stranger to change but this is by far the biggest move  I have ever made.  I made the decision based on the account that Houston just wasn't cutting it for this feisty fire starter.  While I made some great friends and had a blast training and working with many of the local athletes, my visions of success was some how stunted.  I stumbled upon an incredible career opportunity via a dear friend, Kamal, whom I met in Dallas in 2008.   We have grown closer over the years with little face time.   In my darkest hour I reached out to him for the kind of support few can furnish and behold the opportunity presented itself.  It was a little over 18 days that my superficial possessions were sold and all that was left of my swaggering style now grass roots girl, her dog, and a 10 foot Uhaul were headed north.  Two days on the road and a very long intermission in Memphis brought some clarity and a melange of  palpability as to who I am and where I am going.   I revisited every step of some difficult  life altering decisions I have made and some, not quite so difficult.   I figure that you don't know where you are going until you know where you've been.  It was the most surreal 21 hours of my life pervading emotional breakdowns, mental uncertainty and  thrills of  new conviction.  It was all coming together.

We arrived Wednesday , December 28th and an aire of cautious relief soaked my skin.   I unpacked the truck, unpacked my new life and packed in the professional and social scene.  I met with old friends, made some new ones and found myself in a world I'm too unfamiliar.  The faces came and went, but not a single eye contact or gesture was made by the locals.  This seemed irregular to my roots of  southern hospitality.   Appalling as it seemed, I still wondered what was on the occupied minds of the passer-bys and why the only olive branch extended was by the coffee shop  (Ipsento) barista.   He complemented my accent, however geographically inaccurate, and fell in love with Bella.   He told me of the best bargain shops, where to get a good "northern" coat, and, of course, where the dog parks were positioned.  I  did shop those places, got a good coat and gloves, and took Bella to the park.  Still the swift rhythm of Chi- town seemed no place for me...until I let it in.

Chi-town only builds "up"

Favorite little java shop

Dinner at Ditka's with Uncle D

First night in town @ Belly Shack

I found that the people of Chicago are closed off, they drink and smoke and are ferocious food snobs.   What kind of place doesn't have a Whataburger or bluebell ice cream or a Luke's Locker?  Defeated.  I continued the observations of my little neighborhood: hap hazardous wastes on the side walk, stray cabs changing lanes and nearly swiping cyclists, bartenders demanding they are "craft" not "drink slingers" and general brutish attitudes  that would send wild animals tail tucked back to the forest. 
I was all wrong.
Chicago is the city of motivation, the city of innovation, the city of invention- and from what I deduce, the most authenti-city I have experienced.   I was in the wrong view and needed to make the switch to panoramic.   I  had placed Chicago in the Texas box.  Round hole square peg.  Let me slide up and right a  thousand miles and actually get out of Texas.   My bet is Peru doesn't have Whataburger either, so why would I care if Chi-town doesn't ?  The litter I see on the side walk is opportunity for a single mom's 14 year to earn some extra money for the family.  The stray cabs and daring cyclists are deliberate and even predictable and share the same cause: "get to work".  Chicago is full of people who focus their sights on their work.  It doesn't matter if you are an executive, a teacher or a gypsy.  The pride Chicago-ites take in their careers is astonishing, which is why I owe an apology to the "bartenders".    It is a craft, especially in this town, to see the lengths they go to for creating something jenn-uine :) and marketable to their guests  from behind the bar , on the service floor and  buried in the kitchen.  I was wrong in accusing the brutish attitudes, we all have our opinions it is likely that Chicago just allows them be exposure in lieu of hiding behind fear of judgement.   I was right, however,  they are food snobs.  Every damn place I have eaten has been mind blowing.  Every thing has  it's own confidence, it's own kick, it's own elixir.  I owe a sincere thank you for all the fortitude it takes to be the peacock in the flock.

Blue 13

Blue 13

The Craft @ Karyn's on Green

When I accepted my erroneous perspective,  I fell in love with this city.  People aren't rude and really, the south has the hospitality but the "north"  ( or Midwest as they call it) has the in-jenn-uity.   It has charm and free spirit and honesty.  It has taken a weight off my shoulders so heavy I thought I might collapse under it's heft.   I wear what I want, I eat what I like, I run where my feet take me and I have realized Chicago...is my kind of city.

Mikey, Greg and me NYE 2011

Kamal and me NYE 2011

2012 Tentative Race Schedule

I am taking a leap and writing about a major portion of my life: triathlons!   As if no one could tell I am an active person and working my way towards being a well rounded athlete.  Three sports in one!   2011 was a difficult and mostly absent season as I spent most of it in some rehabilitative structure or modality.   However, 2011 was a season of learningand has shaped 2012 for me!   Under the tutelage of Lori Cooper, Jason Watson and 212 in Motion I am looking forward to some very hard work and some personal bests!   I would also like to share that  I have been accepted as  2012 Athlete's Honey Milk athlete as well as Bay Area Multisport athlete.    I would also like to thank Tri on the Run for supporting my biking needs especially with customzing my new ride, Bay Area Multisport for the glorious masters classes and appointing me an official member of the board and newcomer to the tri's, HITS triathlon series!   I am looking forward to next season whole heartily and anxiously awaiting all  my fellow athletes' schedules as well!   Without further delay,  here is what I'll be up to next year:
March
3- Woodlands 13.1

April
29- Kemah sprint-B  Houston

May
 5-Wildflower 70.3  A - California
30- Doggie Du- Austin
31- Captex tri Sprint B- Austin

June
 26- Buffalo Springs Sprint A- Lubbock

July
 25- Tri Waco Sprint A- Waco

August
 5- Bridgeland Oly A- Houston
 19- Take on the Heat Sprint B- Dallas*

September
 5- Avia Austin Tri Olympic-C  Austin

October
 11- US Open Oly A - Dallas

November
 7- Oilman 70.3 A  -  Conroe

December
 4  White Rock Relay ( full marathon)- A   Dallas
31- Loop the Lake -Dallas

Coaches: Lori and Jason



"Before"



Even Bella is working hard!


And I will leave all of you with this:

Cinder...fella

We long for them:  The mysterious knight and his majestic horse to save us from the towers of confinement.  The bad biker and the roaring engine that rattles our hearts or the affecianado with the smile that could kiss the ground in the winter time and make a flower grow.   It's no secret to men what the ladies want as we often sit with our chins rested in our palms dreaming of the "perfect" partner.   BUT who are these men underneath the cool exteriors?   Are they raging rivers? Are they gregarious geeks?  Are they mommas boys or daddy's descendants?   What is it they are masking with big engines, slick hair, hard bodies or inconspicuous character?   In short, what makes men, well, men?

The book Men are from Mars Women are from Venus is a solid read that explains the logical "fix -it" wiring of men versus the emotionally and mostly unforgotten mechanisms of females.   Certainly hormones play a viable role in what separates us from them, but I think there is something more to it.   Men are simple, we can all agree on that, or are they?   They are simple when it comes to weekend plans, dinner or what to wear and they likely just want a definitive plan and their friends to hang with.  However, I think I don't give our condensed counterparts enough credit.  

For me, I love a man with edge.   Confidence holds a fine line before exploding an ego so if done right, I'm putty.   I love the bad boy and the charmer. I love the tall ,dark and handsome and the analyzer.   This is a tall order for one man to accommodate.   I mean this isn't Weird Science and I don't have that capacity in my computer!   What if underneath every man's mask is just a man.  A real live person without an expectation or agenda.   What if our expectations of a man are so manufactured that it is penetrating their minds and causing them to act as something they are not?   Think about any person you have ever seen change.   For better or worse, what was their reason?   How well did they play that role?   How long did it last?   They may have changed to impress a lady, to gain recognition at work, to embrace their alter ego.   We have all done it to some degree and I think men may be stronger in the mental arena giving them a harder expectation to live up to.  Do not fail, right?   Wrong.  Men are just as sensitive to what they should look like and how intelligent they are expected to be.  I am reminded of "Screech" from Saved by the Bell.   The geek was always on the prowl to becoming the man of "Lisa Turtle's" dreams.   He relentlessly wracked his brain in attempt to figure out what she wanted in a man.   It was entertaining but tragic like watching Wil E Coyote continue to fall off of a cliff or combust at chance of catching the Roadrunner!  Screech, in the end was just Screech however his affinity to Lisa kept him on a wire to be something he is not.   He just wanted to Lisa, because she was Lisa.  Is it possible that Lisa's continued cold shoulder gave Screech the power to advertently reinvent himself to her liking?   Is it possible that most men react similarly?

I think we all wear a mask to cover who we are.   It seems to have become the staple of humanity.   Always climbing up and we must act if we want to do.   Poppycock!   I'd rather find that my dream boat boy is genuinely himself, a geek to boot, and the confidence that allows him to embrace his nerd is far sexier than any motorcycle.   Besides I'm an athlete and engines on your bike is just cheating.   My point is for the men out there:  drop the tough guy attitudes, the debonaire diatribes and the testosterone talk-fests and let us see the real you.   Cinderella, after all, melted away at midnight and all that was left was her, a servant with a sureness.  

Oilman 70.3 & Team Tri Not 2 Suck

 Tranquility sounds at 3 a.m. Sunday morning but I had already beat the alarm to the coffee pot by 10 minutes.  Race days hold an absolute pattern for me: serenity and mental gaming calm me until I reach the parking lot of the site, then the ear phones go in and I lose myself in Eminem's depictions of fearlessness and abrasive focus empowering inner strength and superceding intenal doubts.   Oilman was my last of the season and the weeks leading up to were filled with work and strategy.

  We walked into transition united as team Tri Not 2 Suck knowing what was ahead of us was going to be difficult.   It wasn't the course or the distance, per se, but the knowledge that we would not let eachother down, and more over we would not let ourselves down.   2011 was a year of challenges for the 3 of us and somehow, at least in my head, this race signified redemption.

My efforts to keep my head down and my thoughts quiet were interrupted occasionally by fellow competitors, supporters and the giant strides of Bella in anticipaton of venturing the entire venue.   Of course I scoped out our relay opponents, but so often I misjudge the strengths of them and after reading Mark Allen's article on mental toughness it didn't really matter who the competition was, I was there to race my race.   Again, I quieted my thoughts and turned my focus to Carrie.   This would be her first 1.2 mile open water swim, and she was going to finish it for us and for her.   The day couldn't have been more perfect, in my opinion, chilly but not cold, overcast and a slight wind.   We snuck some pictures in as we walked our swimmer to her starting line.  It is truly amazing to see the focus in a competitor switch the second they toe the line.   My intuition was on fire watching my teammates prepare as we were all doing our least favored event.   At last, the gun goes off and so did Carrie.

Back in transition, I Gu'd up and checked my nutrition was in alignment with the plan Lori, Jason and I worked on.   2 bottles of EFS, 6 gu's, a bag a small pretzels (made a nice quasimoto hump in my jersey), and my salt tabs should get me through the 56 mile time trial I was about to endure.   My focus back to my watch and the transition line looking for Brad or Carrie.   38 minutes in I better gear up my thoughts proceeded my actions as I was already in my cleats and fastening my aero helmet.   I shoved 2 gu packs in te leg of my shorts for easir access and to make room in the bento box for a nutrition bar- better safe than sorry.   40 minutes.Gretchen and I watched the smooth chip hand off by an all male team  that we subscribed to: "When Carrie comes in I'll get the chip and put it on your ankle".  "Brilliant".   Stephen screams "Here she comes"!   And there she was Brad just a few feet in front of her cheering her on.   Gretch grabs the ankle strap, I grab my bike, chip fastened and I am off like a prom dress!  

Before I even get out of T1 my 2 gu's, strategically placed in the thigh of my shorts eject themselves, damnit- I guess they weren't up for a ride.   Of course the mount line was 6 feet further than where I thought it should be but overruling volunteers got me back on track....and we're off!   Don't go out too fast, have fun, remember what Lori said, you don't want Jason yelling at you my thoughts roared.   Left turn, thoughts continued 56 miles and no ipod, listen to the cars, the birds, why didn't you eat all of your breakfast, at least I don't haveto pee.   Right turn- climbing now.  It figures the one place in Houston I get to race at has hills, at least the wind is calm, I like her kit, hey theresa duck, where's the chip seal... shut up!   Right turn- solitary confinement.  No spectators, no cars, no ipod.  Remember Mark Allen "find the place between the positive and negative where it is quiet and stay there".  I've yet to master the meditation but I understand the place where negative talk and positive talk lives in me, I kept my head wedged between the two.  Calm.   I looked at my watch, 26.2 mph.  I guess there is a tail wind, slow down remember what Jason said.   I pulled back and settled in to a steady cadence.   It wasn't long before the scandaloous stretch of scurvy seal was staring me in the face.    Two weeks leading up to the race local athletes ranted about the 10, no 14, no 16 miles of new chip seal on the bike course, certain to rattle your brain and chip your teeth.   Will it be paved before the race?   Will they tear up more of the road?  What pressure should I put in my tires?   "SHhhhhhh, quiet place.   I endured it, it was not bad but I was greatful for the moment when I hit the slick street again.   Mile 28 self -scanning.  Legs feel good, knee is holding on, saddle is feeling numb but no soreness, where's my...oh my watch stopped- great.   Down 1.5 ish bottles, perfect, 3 gu's and 3 salt tabs-on target, all inner dialogue as I am sure any competitor watching me thought I may have been hallucinating what with my head nods and awkward agreement that everything was going...well...right.    Where's the turn around?   Shiiiiiiit- left handed turn, don't lose it! ( insert Zoolander tantrum in turning left) Whew.   I guess that's the turn around.    I grabbed my first water bottle from a sweet little boy that said " I think you're in the wrong race, this is all boys!"    I think, dear child, all the girls were in front of me, and you got here late!  Down the hatch the water went all 20 ounces and as I passed a couple of Bicycle World athletes I let them know it was "time to take it home".   Mile 40 my thoughts began to explode.  My calmness became calamity.  What times it, am I on track, I only have 2 gu's left, I need water, I need calories, why did I say I'd do this, is it sprinkling, I can't handle my bike in the rain, where... what...why...Shut-up! Focus!  Head down, find a target and pick them off....Oh I love Target! Focus, Jennifer, focus" .   Target in place, knee feeling achey and losing form but I reestablished my quiet place and knew this is where the mental game was going to take shape.  I contnued on my path to conquer my target.   As I passed him I asked the time, 2:42 since his swim began 20 minutes before I left transition.  PEOPLE, left turn, slick roads!   I was rejuvenated to see LIFE and feel the energy of the volunteers.   I picked up my cadence, shifted to a higher gear and took my last gu at mile 50.  My eyes began to weaken.   I was chasing that little dot in my left eye.  You know,  the one that appears in the periphery but when you try to look  it jumps further into the periphery.   My eyelids felt heavy, chills overcame my burning red legs ( so much for sport legs and no burn) and I began wondering what tools I had to stab into one or both of my tires and if my team would believe it.   You came to do a job...do it!   Down goes the rest of my EFS, all that was left of calories was the hunch back of pretzels and the bar that awaits me at transition because butter fingers dropped it in excitement!   My legs were heavy and  had to pee like a race horse.   Find the calm.  Finally, a long descent helped me find my cadence and I was back in action.   This is where I found out exactly howfar 5 miles was.  It was actually 8.  The climbs were harder, my legs were suffering bloody abrasions and numbness, my elbows rubbed raw and my mind, again, was defeating me.   Drop your gear, stop fo a second.  NO!  Shut the hell up and do what you came to do.   mailto:F*@# it, gear up, head down and hammer. it    I came here to compete, so I wanted to leave knowing I gave it everything I had.  Every injury I overcame,every friend I made, every friend I lost, every home I lost, every swim, bike and run I completed, everything right here, right now. 

 I could see the long line of cones leading me back to where I started with my team.   Just keep pedaling.  YOu're almost there.   In an instant I felt the hours of labor begin to creep up my digstive tract and I wondered if I would make it to the finish line in one piece.    Last turn.  My senses were off.   There was no auditory function, my tactility retreated, my taste was only of salt and my eyes were failing me- seriously, but I was still going.   I pulled my feet from my shoes, a small victory as I have only done this twice in a race, and I realized I was coming in very fast.   Where's the dismount?  You're coming in too hot, why can't I hear anything?  Puke when you get to Gretchen, they're counting on ...BRAKES!    Oh Shit!   I felt my bare feet hit the ground, my bike over my shoulder and  hussled what was left of me over the timing mat and made my way back to my team.    I handed the chip to Gretchen an collapsed to my haunches as the blistering tears filled my lids.  I did it, I did it.

Gretchen made her way out on the run, a 3 loop course, where spectators had plentyof face time.   We cheered for our gal pal to bring us home every moment she passed.   Her first 2 loops were on pace (so we assumed) and she looked strong.   Worry set in as we waited for her third loop passing and time was elongating.   Her calves had cramped and her back had ceased causing respiratory issues to boot.  Finally, we saw her bright colored ensemble hoofing in and we were relieved she was home.   Carri and I darted out to run along side our fearless friend into her finish ne.  The specatatos got a good laugh when the announcer congratulated team, Tri Not 2 Suck, on our finish!   We ran around to great Gretch with a big sweaty hug and a delaration of redemption!  We did it. It didn't suck, and we brought home some hardware.

I want t give a sincere thanks to all that have supported me through 2011 and also those who doubted me ( including myself).   I want to thank, first, Stephen.  It has been a very long, bumpy road to recovery but you have been there every step of the way always believing in me and telling me to "stay on your wheel".   I want to thank my coaches Lori Cooper and Jason Watson for prepaing me, believing in me and being the voice of reason and the hard ass, respectively. :)   I want to thank Greg Pennington for hosting a tough race and just being a generally awesome dude.   Thanks to John Cobb and his ingenious VFLOW max saddle that kept me comfy during my ride.  Thank you to Athletes Honey Milk and Bay Area Multisport for the supportive nutrition and workouts that got me here.  Thank you to Tri on the Run for addng me to their team.   Thank you to my second family and caregivers Dr. Weinstein, Debbie,Shayna,Andrew,Zach, Rachel, Peggy, Goldie, Marv and the rest of them for nursing me back to health both emotinally and physically.  2011 was a big year for me.  I couldn't have done it without any of you.   Stay tuned for 2012 season and the holiday adventures to come!  All my love, Jenn