Tri Me Part Dos

I’ve been reading a blog by a woman who is a triathlete/mother/writer and she made me want to be just like her (what’s new, right?)  But she also made me want to blog more about my running/tri-ing, so here we go.  Check her out.  The first link is her first blog that she no longer writes on but I linked to it because it’s so worth reading about the beginning of her journey.  This link is her current blog which is also very much worth reading.

So one week, three days after my first sprint triathlon, I am still alive.  YAY!!  Not for lack of trying to die though.  I skipped out on training for the week and a half before the race (and when I say skipped out on, I mean sat on my lazy butt and justified it with the fact that in 10, 9, 8, 7,… days I’d be burning 700 calories before 9 am so I could be lazy all I wanted).

Skipped training and all, I finished.  And I wasn’t last!! I was Eighth from last, but I was not last. But really, first, third, 157th, it’s just semantics, really. Right?!

So let us recap.  Partially so that I can make myself sound better than my time will tell you I am, and partially so that I can look back at this and laugh when I’m an IronWoman one day (hopefully later than sooner).

Swim  I was thinking my time for the swim (not including a run to the transition area) would be around 9 minutes.  I ended up beating that by a long shot even with a run around and into the transition area.  It was my strongest part, I’d say.  It was also the most fun part for me.  I forgot that I was tired and nervous as soon as I got into the water.  It was also fun because I passed some people and at the ends of the lanes when we’d stop to take a break (that’s really embarrassing) I talked to the friends I had made while standing in line waiting to jump in.

Bike  My bike time was about what I hoped it would be.  It was a little faster than when we had practiced it a couple of weeks beforehand.  It also seemed a little easier.  I rode in mostly the correct gear thanks to Jane and Jess and their “encouragement” and advice.  I really enjoyed the bike portion after I got off the first mile or so of constant hills.  The whole course was moderately hilly, but that first mile or so was killer since I didn’t stop to catch my breath after the swim.  Either way, I remember thinking as I crossed under a bridge at about mile 3 or 4 that this was so much fun! The course was there-and-back style, so it was also fun to cross paths with the fast people and hear them yell nice things at those of us who were “pacing ourselves”.

Me at 45 seconds…or 25 minutes. Or anywhere in between.

Run  Worst 2.5 miles of my life.  I wish I was kidding.  I had done bricks in workouts several times.  My legs had started feeling like they could do the race in an upright position. But, I was also counting on/hoping for a lot of adrenaline.  About 17 seconds into the run is when I realized that the last two weeks of “letting my body rest up for the big day” was the worst idea ever.  About 45 seconds into the run is when I decided that I’d never ever ever ever ever do a triathlon again.  About 25 minutes into it is when I realized that my 45 second revelation was still true.  At about 35 minutes (because yes, even with a short 2.5 mile run it took me over 35 minutes) I decided that heat was seeping through the earth from the depths of Hell.  At 38:something I finished the stupid run.

At 40 minutes I decided that triathlon was my new favorite sport.

I finished.  I wasn’t last.  I won’t let myself say that I was a winner because I finished, though.  I royally screwed up by not training seriously the last two weeks which in my own mind puts me in the “I should have gotten what I deserved but God was gracious” category.  I didn’t meet any of the goals I had set which were really quite doable.  There was no reason for that.

I think I subconsciously stop working out before big events (I did the same thing with the Cooper River Bridge Run) because I need an excuse if I fail.  But More on that later.

Anyway, that’s the story.  I’ll do another one on August 12th if all goes as planned.  There is also a Half Marathon next month that’s in the plan.

Until next time…

Me finishing. See that person behind me? Yeah, she wasn’t part of the cleanup crew.

Tri me

This post is being posted after the triathlon, but was drafted a few days before.  Sorry for the delay! I hate when I forget to hit “publish”

The nightmares have begun.  My first triathlon is in 5 days and I’m dreaming that the pool is in a rusty vampire building, that the ladies are hiding my shoes from me while I swim the first leg of the race, and that I would be in very last place.  The first two are unlikely, but the last is haunting me.

I don’t want to be that girl who crosses last and who everyone is waiting on- or worse- who everyone left because they were ready for breakfast.

I don’t want to hear the same voice directed at me that I hear every day from mommies at the pool who are so proud of their wee lads for swimming with their swimmies still on.  “I’m so proud of you! You did such a great job!”

Lots of people have said things like “well, at least you are doing one!” or “I’d just be happy to cross the finish line”.

That’s nice.

I wanna win.

So what did I do?  The only thing a normal American beginner triathlete (I am having nightmares about these stupid things, so I am calling myself a triathlete) would do.  I googled “how to not be in last place in a triathlon”.

I could google “how come when i talk to girls on facebook they don’t answer me back” and I’d get lots of results.

I could google “why are americans afraid of dragons” and almost a million pages would come up.

I could google “why do asians have slanty eyes” and end up with enough reading material to last me until I can afford to go to asia and ask one myself.

But when I google “how to not be in last place in a triathlon” all that comes up is something about the Phillies and the Red Sox.  I did find a promising article about a lady who finishes every single race last.  Unfortunately, when I looked at the participant list for Sunday morning, her name was not there.

Confessions Part II will probably include hilarious pictures of women I tripped to get ahead, weird outfits that people wore, and a story of a happy ending (one where I was in first place).

For You. For You. For You.

Last night I had the opportunity to serve communion at the gathering.  

As each person comes to partake in the Eucharist, we say

“This is the body of Christ given for you.” 

“This is the blood of Christ shed for you.”

It was a powerful few minutes for me.  Over and over and over I got to be the person reminding believers that the Death of Jesus was for them.

For the girl whose parents were abusive.

This is the body of Christ, given to you.

For the man who is hungry

This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.

For the couple who can’t conceive.

This is the body of Christ, given for you.

For the girl with a broken heart.

This is the blood of Christ shed for you.

For the family who just adopted.

This is the body of Christ given for you.

For the newlyweds.

This is blood of Christ shed for you.

For the person who just experienced God for the first time.

This is the body of Christ given for you.

For me, Sarah Harris.

This is the blood of Christ shed for you.

For you, friend.

This is the body of Christ given for you.

This is the blood of Christ shed for you.

 

Anthems

Two weeks, Three days.  Is it pathetic that I have that figured out?  Whatever. That’s how long it’s been since Jamal and I ended our relationship.  That’s how long I’ve wondered what the providential reason is (because there is always one, right?) for the split.  That’s how long I’ve been answering questions asked by other people.  That’s how long I’ve felt comforted and protected and fought for by the people around me.

Forever.  The math was significantly easier on this one.  That’s how long God has been good. 

I can be in a relationship with the man that I love, and God will be good.  He can break up with me and that relationship can be taken away, and God will be good.  The abundance and beauty and perfection of God’s goodness is no less or more when I get my way or don’t get my way.  It’s always abounding.  It’s always perfect.  My definition of good may change, my perspective of good may be altered, but that goodness is as constant as the God who possesses and grants it.

I sing because You are good.

And I dance because You are good.

And I shout because You are good.

You are good to me.

With a cry of praise, my heart will proclaim

You are good.

Some days really suck.  Some days are really good. Death. Grief. Sadness. Worry. Pain. Protection. Peace. Praise. Wholeness. Life.

In death,

In life,

I’m confident and covered by

the power of Your great love!

In a season that for 2000 years has signified death bringing life, it’s really cool that Jesus would let me experience on the smallest of scales how my own death can bring life.  I’ve seen it over and over and over again: In my brokenness, He makes me whole.

What can make me whole again?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Another Frost.

I’m in a season of doubt and frustration.  I keep thinking spring is here.  That newness is about to surround me.  That growth and life are present.  Then it decides to snow.  Again.  Once I’ve seen a flower bloom, the last thing I want is another frost.

Tonight I saw this quote on Facebook:  “God has no bad thought towards us. Only a desire to see us conform to the image of Jesus.” I don’t know who said it or where it’s from, but here’s what I know-  This season that seems unending and hard and so so tiring is purposed to make me more like Jesus.  This season that makes me want to give up on everything even when I know that that’s not what I’m supposed to do is purposed to make me more like Jesus.  This testing is going to make me more like Him.

I hate it.  I hate going through the fire.  I hate being poked and prodded.  I hate being broken and torn and beat up.  I wish there was an easier way, but there isn’t.  This is the way God chose because it’s the absolute best for me right now.  This is the most effective way to make me more like Him.

I’m learning to keep promises.  I’m learning to fight as hard as I possibly can even when I’m down.  I’m learning to seek the Lord with every single thought because that’s the only place I am finding life.  He’s teaching me to recognize all of the broken cisterns in my life.  He’s teaching me how to love without abandon and without condition.  He’s teaching me that my life isn’t about me and what I want and how happy I can be- It’s about Him and what He wants and how I can honor Him with all of me.

This season sucks.  It really does.  But when the spring comes around, I believe whole-heartedly that it will be so much more appreciated because I will see the beauty from ashes.