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.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 |
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| Kamal and me NYE 2011 |
Tuesday, November 29, 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
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
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| Coaches: Lori and Jason |
 |
| "Before" |
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| Even Bella is working hard! And I will leave all of you with this:  |
Thursday, November 10, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
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
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
Friday, November 4, 2011
Dirty 30: Before and Aftermath!
October was a busy month for me. I have been training hard with my coaches for Oilman 70.3 (relay)and have also taken on a few hours at the not so local tri shop, Tri on the Run, just for fun! October also brought my favorite holiday and my big 3-0! Luckily I had my 1/3 life crises at 28 so this year was all about having fun. 2011 brought me a lot of challenges, a lot of changes and a lot of clarity. That being said, this Dirty 30 was all too real and a great celebration of the new beginings.
I began planning the "Speak Easy" a couple of months out as I knew it had the potential to be quite a production with the right things in place. As the last weekend of October closed in on me, the weather finally ooled off, the days began and ended earlier and the smell of fall was in the air. We made several blue prints for how to gut the house and what supplies we would need to completely recreate the 1930's infamous Speak Easies. I did a lot of research and spoke to anyone I knew to help me capture the ambiance. It turns out speak easies weren't quite so elegant as I previously thought. O' contrare' they were rather dim and dusty and the spread closely resembled a child's menu with hot dogs or mac n cheese! However, they were the host sites to some of the richest and badest mobsters as it was privelage to know where these libation lairs layed! The speak easies were found usualy on the outskirts of town in likely an abandoned library ( a mask to exonnerate a busts) only recognized by a single light usually of different coloring. Easy to say, our decorations were also minimal! Green bulb on the front porch- Check!
My best friend of a hundred years drove into town from Austin on Friday to help me manufacture the decor. Prior to her arrival I deep cleaned every knook and cranny ( my birthday gift to myself - sick I know) only to find myself rehanging spider webs and vintage photos! I made simple tables and covered them with beautiful, white, PLASTIC table cloths topped with a single votive- the real deal! I also managed to think up a way to make plush drapes that would keep all the light out of the house. Again ,I bunched up some serious purple table cloths and hung them on curtain rods, I dont think anyone could tell they were faux- it was much too dark! Three last minute trips to the local WT store to get suspenders, garters and white flowers and we were set!
T-2 hours:
Nicole and I jumped into costume and on our way to transformation! Nicole wore a purple flimsy hat, LONG black dress and elegant white gloves. Her costume was spot on and her hair was totally behaving that day (sigh) so I can say that she easily had an awesome transition time! My dress and hat were both custom made via mylil' bro ad his company Orange Jacket Fashions! I can not believe the amount of work he did or the precision in detail. It was truly breath taking!
T-1 hour :
Dressed to imress, we lit the indoor and outdoor fireplaces, votives, and set the mood. Gentle 30's jazz was playing in the back ground and a slight wind had picked up making for a great addition to our swoire. Finally, our brooding bouncer, Carter and a charming yet edgy bartender, Tyler had arrived! After a very short briefing my two main men fell right into character as they harassed guests who didn't have secret password and pacified the ones who did! Both of them did an excellent job keeping the the riff raff out and the ritzy in!
Showtime!
7 pm came so quickly as our first guests began to arrive. They were heckled at the door but once through welcomed to enjoy their evening. Mobsters and flappers came in full force with their tommy guns, bras knuckles, fedora's and altered attitudes. Feather boas and saltwater pearls adorned the arms and necks of the mobsters maidens and a few special guests arrived giving the 30's bash a new twist. I was amazed at the costumes that my braniac friends came up with: Chris Dolence came as a candy striper, like Mr. Peppermint from our childhood, complete with creepy curly mustache that he grew for the occasion. Next up: Dorothy and those ruby slippers (not to mention the cake balls she made!) and by her side was Charlie Chaplain who I mistaked as Hitler initially- sorry Curtis! The final couple to arrive, a real favorite of mine, Lucy and Desi! Yep, the Ricardos were at my party and in full character. I couldn't get "Lucy" to actually smile for the pictures- all Lucy all the time! I loved Lucy!
The evening was quiet for the first hour or so, when I was told that my playlist, ahem, sucked! Ohhhh, Dolence you're so eloquent! In a matter of minutes the 30's thrive was out te window and new age playlist, that shall remain nameless, had this speak easy speaking LOUDLY! Out came the hip hop, the booty busting- literally, and the little rockstars in all of us. I shot a video but it's a bit dark. See if you can identify any of the dancers!
All in all I'd say it was quite a hit on many levels. Nicole, Stephen, Gretchen, Carrie and I pulled together to make this production and I think it was enjoyed by everyone. I'm thankful all my friends came and that I am alive another year to celebrate. I'd be even more thankful if I hired a clean up crew, but that is a good sign it was epic! Thanks to everyone who came and played with us. A special thanks to The Stitts for letting us use their kids as actors and servants, thnks to G for picking up all that ceviche, to Carrie for making a Mondrian backdrop for photo fun, and to Stephen for running all over town to make this happen. Also, a thanks to our neighbors although don't think we're froends anymore! Kidding. Love you guys!
Next up, ending the season with a bang: Oilman is this weekend so wish us LUCK, our team TRI not 2 Suck!
JJ
 |
| TOTR! |
I began planning the "Speak Easy" a couple of months out as I knew it had the potential to be quite a production with the right things in place. As the last weekend of October closed in on me, the weather finally ooled off, the days began and ended earlier and the smell of fall was in the air. We made several blue prints for how to gut the house and what supplies we would need to completely recreate the 1930's infamous Speak Easies. I did a lot of research and spoke to anyone I knew to help me capture the ambiance. It turns out speak easies weren't quite so elegant as I previously thought. O' contrare' they were rather dim and dusty and the spread closely resembled a child's menu with hot dogs or mac n cheese! However, they were the host sites to some of the richest and badest mobsters as it was privelage to know where these libation lairs layed! The speak easies were found usualy on the outskirts of town in likely an abandoned library ( a mask to exonnerate a busts) only recognized by a single light usually of different coloring. Easy to say, our decorations were also minimal! Green bulb on the front porch- Check!
My best friend of a hundred years drove into town from Austin on Friday to help me manufacture the decor. Prior to her arrival I deep cleaned every knook and cranny ( my birthday gift to myself - sick I know) only to find myself rehanging spider webs and vintage photos! I made simple tables and covered them with beautiful, white, PLASTIC table cloths topped with a single votive- the real deal! I also managed to think up a way to make plush drapes that would keep all the light out of the house. Again ,I bunched up some serious purple table cloths and hung them on curtain rods, I dont think anyone could tell they were faux- it was much too dark! Three last minute trips to the local WT store to get suspenders, garters and white flowers and we were set!
 |
| Nicole getting into character |
T-2 hours:
Nicole and I jumped into costume and on our way to transformation! Nicole wore a purple flimsy hat, LONG black dress and elegant white gloves. Her costume was spot on and her hair was totally behaving that day (sigh) so I can say that she easily had an awesome transition time! My dress and hat were both custom made via mylil' bro ad his company Orange Jacket Fashions! I can not believe the amount of work he did or the precision in detail. It was truly breath taking!
 |
| Somehow I managed not to get a full shot of my costume |
T-1 hour :
Dressed to imress, we lit the indoor and outdoor fireplaces, votives, and set the mood. Gentle 30's jazz was playing in the back ground and a slight wind had picked up making for a great addition to our swoire. Finally, our brooding bouncer, Carter and a charming yet edgy bartender, Tyler had arrived! After a very short briefing my two main men fell right into character as they harassed guests who didn't have secret password and pacified the ones who did! Both of them did an excellent job keeping the the riff raff out and the ritzy in!
Showtime!
7 pm came so quickly as our first guests began to arrive. They were heckled at the door but once through welcomed to enjoy their evening. Mobsters and flappers came in full force with their tommy guns, bras knuckles, fedora's and altered attitudes. Feather boas and saltwater pearls adorned the arms and necks of the mobsters maidens and a few special guests arrived giving the 30's bash a new twist. I was amazed at the costumes that my braniac friends came up with: Chris Dolence came as a candy striper, like Mr. Peppermint from our childhood, complete with creepy curly mustache that he grew for the occasion. Next up: Dorothy and those ruby slippers (not to mention the cake balls she made!) and by her side was Charlie Chaplain who I mistaked as Hitler initially- sorry Curtis! The final couple to arrive, a real favorite of mine, Lucy and Desi! Yep, the Ricardos were at my party and in full character. I couldn't get "Lucy" to actually smile for the pictures- all Lucy all the time! I loved Lucy!
 |
| Dorothy and Hitler...Charlie Chaplan! |
 |
| Mr. Peppermint |
 |
| Lucy and Desi Ricardo |
The evening was quiet for the first hour or so, when I was told that my playlist, ahem, sucked! Ohhhh, Dolence you're so eloquent! In a matter of minutes the 30's thrive was out te window and new age playlist, that shall remain nameless, had this speak easy speaking LOUDLY! Out came the hip hop, the booty busting- literally, and the little rockstars in all of us. I shot a video but it's a bit dark. See if you can identify any of the dancers!
after 46 seconds you can actually see people
 |
| The MEN |
 |
| The LADIES |
 |
| Dance Break! |
 |
| After Dolence changed the music! Notice the curtains? |
 |
| Even Bella and Mason partied! |
 |
| The hosts with the mosts! |
All in all I'd say it was quite a hit on many levels. Nicole, Stephen, Gretchen, Carrie and I pulled together to make this production and I think it was enjoyed by everyone. I'm thankful all my friends came and that I am alive another year to celebrate. I'd be even more thankful if I hired a clean up crew, but that is a good sign it was epic! Thanks to everyone who came and played with us. A special thanks to The Stitts for letting us use their kids as actors and servants, thnks to G for picking up all that ceviche, to Carrie for making a Mondrian backdrop for photo fun, and to Stephen for running all over town to make this happen. Also, a thanks to our neighbors although don't think we're froends anymore! Kidding. Love you guys!
Next up, ending the season with a bang: Oilman is this weekend so wish us LUCK, our team TRI not 2 Suck!
 |
| A GREAT capture! |
JJ
Thursday, October 13, 2011
What Not to Wear
Disclaimer: This blog is solely in jest and targeted at those of us who struggle with appropriate athletic wear and inspired by two of my favorite local athletes, Carrie and Gretchen.
I have vivid recollection of an old friend and former Brewer High School track star, Amy Taylor (known for her sexy legs) saying with conviction “Spandex is NOT your friend, and just because they make it in your size doesn't mean you SHOULD wear it". As the girls' careful laughter echoed the walls of that old drill team room, her words have stuck with me for some 10 years. Now coming from a young lady with legs as cut and long as a super model, it sounds condescending...however, she is right.
As athletes, we are expected to wear various clothing styles and fits to compliment the sport AND our bodies. I have been to many a fitness competition, marathon, bike rally, crit race, adventure race, gymnastics tourney, swim meet, or just good old fashioned evening walks and must say apparently we didn't get the memo. Manufacturers spend years and tons of money "perfecting" the appropriate design and dynamics of an article that will separate their product from the thousand others on the market. They are doing the dirty work so YOU don’t have to! Let me explain: if you are training, competing or just looking for some comfy clothes to look sporty in there are plenty available if you just look.
I understand the big comfy sweats and the oversized hoodie, but this gigantic jumper was not intended for track practice! There are a variety of things you can wear to run in and will double your dollar for versatility. My favorite is the running skirt. Girly and dainty to the eye, but has super wicing powers that don’t leave you with dumpy drawers post run. Added bonus: wear it around town with a racer back and your favorite micro hoodie and envy will be cast upon your sporty style!
There are also a variety of running shorts at your disposal. Nike seems to be the most popular with their eclectic patterns, bright colors, and relatively inexpensive commitment. It seems like everyone has a pair of these shorts in their alma maters' colors, which is cool but pay attention to your sizing. Get a real idea of what size you ARE as opposed to what size you want to be or think you are. My great friends Carrie and Gretchen BOTH think they are 2 sizes larger than they are- and they are berated for it! Gretchen sent me this picture of her new race day outfit asking my opinion. I told her the truth " they look awesome!"
But here is what she came home with.
No, people she did not tie a parachute around her waist, but she did upsize her shorts because clearly she didn’t notice all the weight she lost during her kick ass 2011 triathlon season. Fail! Carri is my skinny mini friend that is also under the impression that she should shop at Trader's Village for her athletic attire. Again, this beauty is in gangster's paradise with her big ol' britches and don’t get me started on her competition swim wear.
I don't criticize unless I have a resolution to offer, of course. We fixed Carrie's swimsuit saga as I had a brand new one that I bought too small ( Speedo runs incredibly small) and immediately her baggy bottoms weren’t slapping the side of the pool during flip turns. Success! She's so cute, it’s a shame not to show her physique! Glad I could help!
Your running shorts are SUPPOSE to be short! The less drag you have the better and more material just aides in the awkward inner thigh disappearing act when shorts are dangerously long. Don’t embarrass yourself! Further, I think the shorty short spandex tights are still a better fit for the ladies than most shorts. They fit snug against YOUR curves have soft waist and thigh bands and light weight. Sold! However, they can be rather revealing so for the more conservative I would suggest, again, the running skirt.
Triathlon wear is something I have become all too familiar with. There are so many different types and colors and qualities where do you start? I suggest figuring out your body type. I'm a rather bootylicious female so stuffing myself into a pair of Zoot shorts doesn’t do me any favors. Even 2 sizes larger I still look like a sausage! I was not born a mannequin so why dress like one? I find that Louis Garneau and DeSoto sports have a much softer waist and thigh band which accentuates my curves rather than cutting them off. Both companies have tons of styles and lengths to fit your fancy. For those of you that ARE built like beanpoles, Zoot and 2XU are a safe bet for you. Remember triathlon is a sport in which DRAG counts, negatively. You swim, bike and run in the same outfit, so comfort is probably not going to aid you in your next PR. Yes, you want your kit to be comfortable, but comfortable for what you are training/racing- not comfortable for a morning sunrise and hot chocolate. On the note of comfort, I might also suggest the "onesy". Yes, that favorite childhood jumper has gone retro! Kidding. The onesy scared me at first thought of having my entire body outlined for everyone to see. Not to mention that NO ONE looks hot running; things shift and bounce in opposite directions causing appearance of unjustified epidermal eruptions. The last thing I need is full body coverage, but to my surprise it actually is quite slimming and feels like a giant "spanks" holding you in. It felt amazing in the swim as most of my two piecers fill up with water and may or may not be flapping in the wind after it dries out. Kiwami makes a brilliant (and expensive) custom suit! I think it's one of those "looks better on" situations!
Guys aren’t typically in my repertoire of rants on style as they really just don’t care. They have the right idea: don’t care what size and probably not what color, but DOES IT FIT? However, in the slight chance that one of you manly men are scared of a speedo or shorty shorts -get over it. Like your car's engine, each piece of clothing is designed to make you go FASTER, HARDER, and look cooler than any other guy. Let me tell you guys, a girl will turn her head for a man with confidence and a great pair of get-away sticks! I know one guy that dominates the athletic arena and in WHITE. {drool}
Now that I’ve completed my rant about the oversized aversions, I won't neglect the undersized either. I must confess I CAN still wear my spandex from last season, but I’m also guilty of putting on a few pounds after being out on injury for 6 months. So, I’ve got 4 fingers pointing right back at me on this one. My curves went out and got their own zip code this year and I haven't done much re-wardrobing to accommodate the change. There are two ways to remedy the too tight fight: lose weight, buy bigger clothes. For ladies it’s a fight against a number, right? I refuse to spend money on "fat" clothes so I'm going with the first option. A sincere apology for anyone who rides behind me or swims next to me! While this may be a bit of a contradiction, I fuel my motivation with the extra “pull” I’m getting from my spandex. It reminds me not to harness the see-food diet and to push harder during my workouts.
I could buy bigger clothes but I believe that is a crutch. It's accepting that I expanded so rather than shrink back I just gave myself permission to eat a gallon of ice cream. As this cycle continues, I will need to refer back to the beginning of this blog on oversized clothes!
I hope this was a fun read for you as it was funny just to write and you ALL know the people I am referring to! If you are one of them, remedy immediately!
I have a few things on the roster including Try Andy's Tri in Sugarland this weekend, Oilman 70.3 relay, and maybe a visit home for the half marathon. Happy Halloween! Mwahahahahaha!
I have vivid recollection of an old friend and former Brewer High School track star, Amy Taylor (known for her sexy legs) saying with conviction “Spandex is NOT your friend, and just because they make it in your size doesn't mean you SHOULD wear it". As the girls' careful laughter echoed the walls of that old drill team room, her words have stuck with me for some 10 years. Now coming from a young lady with legs as cut and long as a super model, it sounds condescending...however, she is right.
As athletes, we are expected to wear various clothing styles and fits to compliment the sport AND our bodies. I have been to many a fitness competition, marathon, bike rally, crit race, adventure race, gymnastics tourney, swim meet, or just good old fashioned evening walks and must say apparently we didn't get the memo. Manufacturers spend years and tons of money "perfecting" the appropriate design and dynamics of an article that will separate their product from the thousand others on the market. They are doing the dirty work so YOU don’t have to! Let me explain: if you are training, competing or just looking for some comfy clothes to look sporty in there are plenty available if you just look.
 |
| Forever Lazy and Track? |
I understand the big comfy sweats and the oversized hoodie, but this gigantic jumper was not intended for track practice! There are a variety of things you can wear to run in and will double your dollar for versatility. My favorite is the running skirt. Girly and dainty to the eye, but has super wicing powers that don’t leave you with dumpy drawers post run. Added bonus: wear it around town with a racer back and your favorite micro hoodie and envy will be cast upon your sporty style!
 |
| Behold! The running skirt! |
 |
| Good Fit! |
But here is what she came home with.
 |
| Doesn't Fit |
No, people she did not tie a parachute around her waist, but she did upsize her shorts because clearly she didn’t notice all the weight she lost during her kick ass 2011 triathlon season. Fail! Carri is my skinny mini friend that is also under the impression that she should shop at Trader's Village for her athletic attire. Again, this beauty is in gangster's paradise with her big ol' britches and don’t get me started on her competition swim wear.
 |
| Soggy Bottoms? |
I don't criticize unless I have a resolution to offer, of course. We fixed Carrie's swimsuit saga as I had a brand new one that I bought too small ( Speedo runs incredibly small) and immediately her baggy bottoms weren’t slapping the side of the pool during flip turns. Success! She's so cute, it’s a shame not to show her physique! Glad I could help!
 |
| Redeemed! |
 |
| Basic Black shorty |
Triathlon wear is something I have become all too familiar with. There are so many different types and colors and qualities where do you start? I suggest figuring out your body type. I'm a rather bootylicious female so stuffing myself into a pair of Zoot shorts doesn’t do me any favors. Even 2 sizes larger I still look like a sausage! I was not born a mannequin so why dress like one? I find that Louis Garneau and DeSoto sports have a much softer waist and thigh band which accentuates my curves rather than cutting them off. Both companies have tons of styles and lengths to fit your fancy. For those of you that ARE built like beanpoles, Zoot and 2XU are a safe bet for you. Remember triathlon is a sport in which DRAG counts, negatively. You swim, bike and run in the same outfit, so comfort is probably not going to aid you in your next PR. Yes, you want your kit to be comfortable, but comfortable for what you are training/racing- not comfortable for a morning sunrise and hot chocolate. On the note of comfort, I might also suggest the "onesy". Yes, that favorite childhood jumper has gone retro! Kidding. The onesy scared me at first thought of having my entire body outlined for everyone to see. Not to mention that NO ONE looks hot running; things shift and bounce in opposite directions causing appearance of unjustified epidermal eruptions. The last thing I need is full body coverage, but to my surprise it actually is quite slimming and feels like a giant "spanks" holding you in. It felt amazing in the swim as most of my two piecers fill up with water and may or may not be flapping in the wind after it dries out. Kiwami makes a brilliant (and expensive) custom suit! I think it's one of those "looks better on" situations!
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| MY onesy! |
Guys aren’t typically in my repertoire of rants on style as they really just don’t care. They have the right idea: don’t care what size and probably not what color, but DOES IT FIT? However, in the slight chance that one of you manly men are scared of a speedo or shorty shorts -get over it. Like your car's engine, each piece of clothing is designed to make you go FASTER, HARDER, and look cooler than any other guy. Let me tell you guys, a girl will turn her head for a man with confidence and a great pair of get-away sticks! I know one guy that dominates the athletic arena and in WHITE. {drool}
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| How does he do it? |
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| Even dressed down! |
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| Tight in the tush |
I could buy bigger clothes but I believe that is a crutch. It's accepting that I expanded so rather than shrink back I just gave myself permission to eat a gallon of ice cream. As this cycle continues, I will need to refer back to the beginning of this blog on oversized clothes!
I hope this was a fun read for you as it was funny just to write and you ALL know the people I am referring to! If you are one of them, remedy immediately!
I have a few things on the roster including Try Andy's Tri in Sugarland this weekend, Oilman 70.3 relay, and maybe a visit home for the half marathon. Happy Halloween! Mwahahahahaha!
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| Courtesy of Adri Lila! |
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