Better to be a Loser than a Quitter

              I always come home from my monthly races so excited to blog about it, ready to motivate people with my enthusiasm and experiences. I came home Sunday and napped. I couldn't think of anything motivating to say and the only reason I am blogging now is to admit defeat with dignity.  I lost the ICE BREAKER TRIATHLON.  I finished DEAD LAST. My heart sank when I scanned the numbers in the list tonight. Anyone who knows me, knows that I hate losing. When I lose it eats at my insides. In school I would cry when I got a  B. In college I wrote the cooperate office when I got a mediocre job review. As a woman I pout when I lose Monopoly for hours after the game is packed up and put away. When I think a customer is unhappy I think about it at night instead of sleeping.  I never let my kids win games, I never bend the rules, and I almost NEVER lose. Embarrassingly, I have even went so far on occasion to quit before I can lose so that I don't have to admit defeat.  Admitting defeat is the hardest pill to swallow.  I finished dead last, and to be brutally honest it sucks.
          When I was a little girl I remember looking in the mirror and being disappointed in my body. I remember pushing in on my stomach and imagining what it would look like a bit flatter. I remember sucking in my gut at 7 years old when people would look at me.  I remember when I was about 12 knowing that I was fat. I remember knowing that fat was one of the worst things you could be, because if you were fat it really didn't matter how smart you were, how funny you were, how kind you were, people would still always describe you first as fat. Of course they might not say the word fat, they might say "large, chubby, fluffy, bigger, chunky, puffy, round" all of which just mean fat. Don't get me wrong I was confident, I participated in theatre, I sang publicly, I spoke out in class I wasn't hiding. I just knew I was fat, it was a part of who I was and being fat meant people automatically thought you were lazy, slothful, selfish, and incapable-- at least it did in my own head.
         There are many times people look at me and say " I don't know how you do it all" The answer to that is complicated, but it goes back to the fact that in my family being "lazy" is one of the worst human offences.  One of the first memories of something my mother said to me was me telling her "I'm bored" like a lot of kids do when they want entertained. She would tell me over and over " A bored person is a selfish person, if you cant find anything to do, do something for someone else."  I think this one statement has formed the kind of woman I strive to be. I don't want to be considered lazy or selfish so I fill my life with challenges.  This is the first time in my life that those challenges have been physical, and the first time that I have never won and likely will never win any of these races and that part officially sucks.

        My race day started with a phone call, from my friend Steph who was waiting for me ready to drive to the race in the Walmart parking lot. I was asleep, dead asleep and from the first ring I knew I had overslept. I answered the phone with, "What time is it?!?" I panicked. Got off the phone, got my clothes on and ran out the door running 20 minutes behind. I was just hoping I remembered to bring everything so I wouldn't be swimming in my clothes or one of the weird suits from the YMCA lost and found. With today's luck I would end up with the size 2 thong bikini left behind from 1978 and would alienate the whole of Walnut Creek. Luckily I had my suit. We arrived with just a few minutes to spare. The swim was first and I finished in record time, even though the other lanes were all emptied out before ours I wasn't that concerned. I still finished at least 3 minutes faster than my usual time in the pool. After a slight mishap which ended with us walking into the men's locker room. We changed and went upstairs to the cycle room and here is where things started going downhill for me. My legs were exhausted, not just tired, literally in muscle failure shaking with every pedal.This had never happened before. I had to stand to get the pedals to move and by the second mile I started feeling defeated. At one point I felt my hands pushing my legs down to get the pedals to move. I finished 10 minutes after the other Dirty Skirts, and many many minutes after the other tri-athletes. I wanted to quit, I wanted to cry, I wanted to run. This was not fun. This wasn't empowering or liberating or motivating. This just made me feel like I was back in 9th grade gym class where everyone was looking at the chubby girl, and hoping she wasn't  going to end up on their team.   My only solace was in the faces of my skirted friends, the ones who have seen me at my highs and lows. The ones who knew how far I have come and where I want to go. These women are powerful, engaging, beautiful, and strong and everyday I am with them I feel better about everything and I wasnt going to let them down.  At mile 7 they are off the bikes and have become my focal point. I hear their voices in my head even when my eyes are closed pushing back tears more from defeat than the pain.  I still put on my "show face" the one I put on when a customer isn't happy with me, the one I put on when the seemingly perfect mothers make a comment about serving my kids processed foods,  the one I put on when someone says, " I wish I could dedicate so much time to working out" as if working out is taking away from other more important and neglected areas in my life.   I had my worst bike time ever-  longer by 9 full minutes. People from the next heat were done before me. 10 miles never felt so long. When I saw the treadmills( equipped with personal TVs-- this is a beautiful facility) I actually felt relief. I got on and I immediately felt at home. My legs weren't shaking anymore. It was like my muscles were thanking me for remembering what they actually know how to do. Run.  I started slow to make sure my legs wouldn't fall out from under me and finsihed strong. I hate running on a treadmill, but today I was grateful for it.  I finsihed the final leg of the race in my normal time frame. And when it was done, I felt like pouting.
                I pouted on the inside so no one would think I was a whiner.  One thing worse than being lazy is being a whiner. I actually got stabbed by a fork in the back of the hand for whining, but that's a whole other story better left for a day when I am not busy feeling sorry for myself. Then it hits me I AM WHINER! I am going against my own advice when I tell first time runners its not about winning. I am a hypocrite and that is NOT ok. So today If they gave medals mine would say "Last Place".  My original goal was to finish in less than an hour and thirty minutes and I DID by a lot. And that is GOOD!  There is only one thing worse than being a whiner and that's is being a quitter. And on Sunday, January 29th 2012  I was NOT a quitter.  I finished last. BUT I did finish.  I may not be there yet, but I am closer than I was yesterday and "still lapping everyone on the couch" So maybe I wasn't dead last after all, and maybe for today that's good enough. 

I am dedicating my first Triathalon to my Dad,  Jay Tallmon, who was and is one of most important influences in my life. He was the first man to call me beautiful, the first man I ever danced with, and the man who cried when he "gave me away".   He has shown me through his own actions that I can achieve physical success even without an atheltes body. He has always pushed himself to do better than his best, and he has NEVER ever quit anything he starts. I love you Daddy!

A man is not finished when he is defeated. He is finished when he quits.  - Nixon

Life in the Fast Lane

Lately I have been living life in the fast lane. Things have been happening so quickly that I barely realize where I am  before I am someplace new.  I feel like yesterday I was blogging about starting this mission and I am already 1/4 of the way through my journey. Just yesterday I was struggling to get people to book appointments and now I am flooded with amazing customers! Yesterday I was celebrating my 21st birthday in Butler, PA with good old  friends, and this weekend I celebrated the 10th anniversary of my 21st birthday with new good friends!
 Its funny how when your little you cant wait for your life to begin. Longing for the day you can go on a "Car date", kiss a boy, marry Matthew McConahay. Then your older you just yearn for it to slow down, to have 5 more minutes of snuggle time with the 8 year old who barely fits on your lap, praying for one more night with a man that Matthew Mcconahay cant even hold a candle to, and wishing that time could freeze just for another instant in those perfect moments. I have been repeating a mantra lately- it includes only two words, SLOW DOWN. I have to remind myself that life is so precious and while its awesome to have such a busy life it comes with a cost. That cost is often my own sanity. So when I feel overwhelmed, when I feel defeated, when I feel like my emotions are getting the best of me --I just keep telling myself SLOW DOWN .SLOW DOWN. SLOW DOWN.  These are likely the two words runners shouldn't tell themselves, but even when running lately I have been mentally slowing down, making myself feel what my body is doing, feel the air going in and out of my lungs, feel my feet pounding the pavement, the sound my arms make when they swing against my body. One of the coolest thing about doing the runs is the new places to look at while you run. This is why running on a treadmill is such  a challenge for me. There is nothing interesting to look at to distract me from the fact  I may indeed be dying.  Running is hard. For me it never gets easier,it doesn't matter that I ran 7 miles two weeks ago. Three miles still takes everything out of me. 
This weekend I ran the 7th Annual Jingle Jam at the South Suburban YMCA.  The jingle jam was another early morning, I don't care how many runs I do,  the mornings will continue to be the bane of my exercise existence.  I would also take the opportunity to thank Boone Walmart for not towing our cars during last months race-- even when we are parked in the middle of the lane blocking at least one of four parking areas. Because of my problem with functioning early in the morning, I parked my van in front of another car which was not in ANY space at all! It was in fact parked in the middle of the driving area. Luckily the kind people of Walmart did not tow our cars, but instead surrounded them with large orange cones for the majority of their morning and afternoon business hours. When we came back to get the cars, it was clear to us that the orange cones were our scarlet letter of idiocy and another example of why mornings suck. Are there no nighttime races??
The morning of the Jingle Jam I was careful to park within the legal lines. It was my turn to drive to the race and it was also a good excuse to clean my van. Understand that when I say clean my van I mean that there will be space for feet to be set and seat belts to be buckled. We live out of our car, and because of that there are normally multiple half eaten meals on the seat, floors, and streaks of frosty on the ceiling, on any given day my van contains sports equipment, toys, books, props, coats, shoes without matches, socks without matches, baby wipes new & used, Pokemon cards, receipts, unopened mail, opened mail, and a variety of unidentified objects.   Most people without children are disturbed by my van, and to be brutally honest even some with kids bring their scentsy spray when they ride with me :)  
On the ride down it was raining. It was snowing. It was windy. It was cold. It was miserable. I was determined to run regardless!    Dirty Skirts if nothing else are determined. Three lovely ladies were brave enough to run in the most miserable conditions.  We arrived on time, got our packets and chips, and entered the costume contest. We donned pink Santa hats and bells on our shoes!  We waited in the gym and when the time came we piled outside. It was pretty cool when the gun fired off to hear every ones jingle bells ringing down the street. The route had a lot more hills than I anticipated. About 8 minutes in the fastest runners were already looping back around and were halfway done, one of which was stripped down to nothing but a pair of shorts!! Along the course we had a fan club, which was kinda cool!  People yelling "Go Dirty Skirts!" When I would pass people, or more often when they would pass me, they would say " they were at LHF race" or " awesome shirts". I even had 2 people say they read my blog after seeing me in my get up. I always get a small surge of happiness when someone says they read or were inspired by my blog. Its because of that that I know I am NEVER in this journey alone. There are other people out there like me. Who arent athletic or perfect who are just trying to be better and prove to themselves and to everyone else that they can do it.
I always think about quitting when I am running, but today I didn't.  I just thought about the warm forever lazy waiting for me at the end, and how thankful I am for my husband. The night before our race he had a minor surgical procedure and I was thinking about the kind of man I married and why. Many people told us we shouldn't get married, they said we were too young, too broke, too inexperienced and for the most part they were right, but the things I loved about my husband 13 years ago are still the things I love about him now. He loves me unconditionally and uncontrollably, he loved me when I was 250 pounds and never said one word about my shape. He loves me even when I am unlovable. He is an amazing father and a loyal friend. He has showed me that losing weight is about mind over matter from experience. Steve lost over 80 pounds in order to join the army many years ago and believe it or not he did it by running. He ran everyday around the track and I would go sit on the sideline and watch. In my head I didn't think he could do it, he was slow, he had too far to go, he wasn't going to stick to it-- but I never said it out loud. He proved me wrong as he often does. He lost 80 pounds, many pants sizes and joined the US Army out of pure determination. Although I was proud of him, I don't think until recently I appreciated the amazing thing he accomplished in our first year of marriage. I am proud to be married to someone who  not only is determined for himself but also offers me unconditional support of ideas. When I say I am going to do something no matter how hair brained it sounds, Steve knows I can do it, he doesn't second guess me, he doesn't criticize me, he just believes in me. That is one of the things that has gotten us through the tough times in our marriage.  If you want something bad enough in your life you go after it. You take a chance. You reap the rewards. You endure the consequences. You persevere. That's what Steve and I do everyday with our love. We love each other. Sometimes that love is complicated. Sometimes its easy. Sometimes its tolerant and sometimes not. But we just keep keeping on.    My friend Kathy always says that running is cheaper than therapy and I am really starting to believe her.   I used to think people ran because they had nothing better to do,(I had far better things to accomplish with my time). I used to think people were just wasting valuable time with nonsense, but it turns out I was just wasting time with my own judgements.
 I finished  the race 2 minutes faster than any of my other times and finished 10th in my class. I should mention the fact that I don't have any idea how many women were in my class, and I think I would just prefer to think there were at least 100 :)  All in All I was pretty impressed with myself.  There was food abounding for the FIRST time which was great to not be greeted with an empty table of crumbs and smashed bananas. We had water, bagels, yogurt, granola bars!  We ended the run with listening to the awards ceremony and getting our photo with Santa.
I love Santa! I love Christmas, and this year partly in due to my mantra we are doing an old fashioned Christmas. I am making 90% of my gifts and instead making a conscious choice to spend less money and more time with my family.  If we all spent even a little less, and instead donated to something noble, something bigger than ourselves, something that makes a real tangible difference in peoples lives we could make a real Christmas miracle. When I was done running I enjoyed clean fresh water, got into a cleanish dry car, drove home to a cleanish warm house, and spent the rest of the day with the most important things in my beautifully complicated life my family and friends. Life really doesn't get much better than this!

Me looking sweaty and hot after the run!

The DIE HARD Dirty Skirts!Video About Spending Less This Season! Check it Out!

A Lesson in Determination

                    RACE 3 of 12 --LIVING HISTORY FARMS OFF ROAD RACE- 7 miles

         Waking up super early may be the worst part of running races. I don't function well early in the morning. The morning of this race I actually suggested we leave a few hours earlier and "tailgate" before the race began.  The night before I couldn't sleep. I was nervous I wouldn't be able to finish the race, after all the most I had ever ran was still over a mile less than what I was needing to do this day. Seven miles is the distance alone-- that doesn't even include the creeks, banks, stumps and hills.  I watched several you-tube videos of the race, looked over last years finish results, and read blogs about what to expect. It didn't help much, just made me feel more anxiety.  Our shirts were finished just in time for the race! The skirts and shirts attracted a LOT of attention-- MANY people were photographing us and the backs of the shirt. It says " Does this skirt make my butt look fast?" We even scored a 40 second interview on stage. People came from all over the United States come to share in the fun. They only accept 7500 registrations and they were sold out within a weeks time. We all anxiously awaited and registered the same night it opened. We communicated through texts and FB messages to make sure we all got signed up in time.
         Once we were there the costumes were hilarious and creative! There was Santa and his reindeer, zombies chasing their brains, men in dresses, brides and grooms, Lego men, naked Spartans, and of course the Dirty Skirts( just to name a few).  While we were waiting for the race to begin our tailgate party was more like a huddling flock of hens around a crock pot of steel cut oats and hand warmers. We talked about our kids, husbands, and how to cook oatmeal. A few cars down there were peoplein thier 20's cracking beers and drinking straight out of liquor bottles. I can only imagine their conversations did not include ANY of the above topics. I think that's what makes us special is we are proving to our families, our friends, and most importantly ourselves that your never too old or too slow or too anything to do something that is a challenge. We would save our drinking for a day when we didn't need every bit of our stomach contents. This  race was going to be hard enough for me without puking.
        I don't know if other runners have this issue, but when I run my underwear fall down. It doesn't matter what size I have they roll right down my flat butt.  So I decided on the ride down they would have to go, I went into the portapotty and quickly discovered that because of the layering this would be much easier said than done without catching hepatitis. I decided they must be torn off. After some finagling--they were in the bottom of  portapotty and my butt was instantly colder.  As I shut the door behind me I wondered what the next person was going to think when they saw them in the portapotty, but I was sure as heck not going to retrieve them.
      I read online that because of the obstacles there would be points in the race you would be walking or waiting to cross rivers, bends etc... So when you had the chance to run you should take it.  I was cold and the running was heating me up quick. By the time I was 1 mile in I was already losing the gloves and long sleeves. The first creek crossing was about 2 miles in, it was a 4 foot drop into a ankle deep creek. It was easier than it looked. I was a little disappointed that it wasn't tougher and I wasn't dirtier. The second creek crossing I was ALL IN. We chose the steepest and deepest part to cross. This is when I discovered not wearing underwear has its drawbacks. The water was ice cold, and I am VERY short , it was hip deep. I almost lost my left shoe in the mud, but made it up the embankment with a little booty push from my race partner Trish. 
                Miles 3-6 seemed to fly by. When I run so many things float in and out of my mind. Today I was thinking about my kids, thinking about how seeing me take chances everyday will help them to take chances too. Will teach them first hand about faith and perseverance. Having a mother who isn't fearful, who isn't typical, who does the best she can in everything she does everyday will hopefully make them stronger adults with the ability to make decisive and wholesome choices about their lives.  Lately I have been beating myself up about being a "good" mother. I have been working 12 hour workdays 6-7 days a week, missed every hockey game this season, and have cooked 3 meals in the past month.  the sacrifice in my family and personal life for my business has been tremendous recently. I remember a few years back being critical of moms who forgot snack day, who didn't brush their kids hair, and whose daycare providers spent more time with them than they did. Its funny how God teaches us empathy. When I run I feel stronger. I feel in control. I feel like everything is going to be OK-- because the truth is it will be.   Re framing my parenting while running today made me feel like my kids have a chance to not be screwed up after all.  We kept a nice jogging pace most the time, and made it through a total of 5 very muddy creek crossings, a few steep embankments with ropes to pull us up, and fields full of slippery corn stalks and stumps.  The last mile was the challenge. I started to feel my legs get heavy, and I started to see more people going around me. We were going up a pretty decent hill and my body was starting to feel broken. I walked about 100 feet and then started hating myself. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!- You have run 6 miles and now your going to walk up the last hill on the last mile!!" I started running again, slow at first and then as the pink skirts ahead of me started disappearing I picked it up and caught up with my friends. I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass me by. I wasn't going to make excuses for myself anymore, I wasn't going to give in to my weaknesses, I wasn't going to be the chubby girl who everyone needed to pass. This is where it counted. This is where it mattered. RUN! RUN! RUN!  I have an approach to life and the same premise applies to my running --winning means I am willing to work harder, longer, and give more than anyone else.  It doesn't mean crossing the finish line first. It doesn't mean winning a trophy. It means that I don't leave anything behind. I just have to make sure that when I cross the finish line to the line of Imaginary Beef Stew I can say I gave it everything I had. And I did. 

Today was my first chip timed race. Today I finished 2051 of 7500 racers. Today I pushed myself beyond what I thought I was capable of . Today I forgave myself.  Today I thanked God for giving me great friends who believe in "No Man Left Behind!" Today I ran, and ran, and ran and it was the most fun I have ever had running! I may be slow, but I am still lapping everyone sitting on thier couch :)

Susan G Komen Race for the Cure

We registered under the name Team B.F.F. (Breast Friends Forever).  It was not my first time going to the race for the cure, but it was my first time running.  We decided collectively to create custom hair bows and sell them to raise money for our race team.  12 of us registered and starting crafting. We got together in each others living rooms, basements, and in the unfinished cardio room to create one of a kind creations. Some of them were good and some were unique. It was so much fun making them with lovely ladies. We sold them at local shops, the YMCA and Boone Hyvee and Walmart. The bows raised over $800 for our team --SUCCESS!! We also planned a fundraiser event to raise money-- it was called "Fight for the Cause" It was scheduled to be a kickboxing circuit class followed by Yoga. The night before the big event the YMCA had a fire and the space, the bows, the equipment was all fire damaged and the fundraiser was cancelled.  But TEAM BFF doesn't take anything lying down-- after some last minute bow making we sold  more bows in 2 days following the fire than all the days leading up to it.

The race theme is pink, so we decided to costume ourselves in pink running skirts, pink tops, and pink socks, and of course pink bows!  The day of the race there was also a set of pink eyelashes, a pink bra, pink lipstick,  and pink hairspray for everyone!  We were ready to go! I even brought pink Gatorade and pink cream cheese with mini bagels for breakfast.

I was late getting to the meeting point to drive down to Des Moines. I was late because I was searching for my race number.  I looked everywhere, it was NO WHERE to be found. It was sad because the day I got my race packet in the mail  I was so excited that I got the number 2011.  I immediately called my friend Kathy and told her how awesome and lucky I was to get that number. She politely told me the truth that everyone had 2011, and then laughed at me. Bubble bursted!

After being late to the meeting point, we were made even later by a gas station trip and 2 potty breaks. It was actually a lot like driving with my kids to places. We got to the race moments before the start time. We heard the gun go off and made our way down through thousands of people who were all registered to walk. We got in line behind about 10,000 walkers and couldn't weave our way through to the "running part". So what does team BFF do?? We DODGE DIP DUCK DIVE AND DODGE all around these walkers. It was like extreme 5k Frogger. We were bouncing off curbs running on grass, pushing over baby strollers, and knocking little old ladies over. The good thing about arriving late to a race and having to run with the walkers is you feel REALLY REALLY fast. I essentially felt like I was winning the Olympics.  When we crossed the giant finish line we were greeted with water bottles and key rings that represented different breast lump sizes. What more could a girl ask for? We got tons of compliments on our sparkly running skirts and socks-- we were by far the coolest cats there!

Our race was about human kindness. The real purpose of running today wasn't to make great time, it wasn't to look fabulous ( although we did), it was about survival in small and big ways. It was about caring for someone more than yourself and making health a priority. It was about running for all those people you know who didn't deserve to die. For those who left behind people who needed them. For those who fought and won.  Today I ran for my mother in law. She kicked cancers butt as Henry would say.  In Celebration of Frances Maria Moore. A woman who would never give up.  We love you MeeMaw!

No Day But Today

Sometimes something happens to you and it changes who you are, sometimes something happens and it changes everything.  In May I decided it was time for a change. I was sick of feeling like I was living in someone elses  skin. When I would see photographs of myself I was in disbelief of how overweight I had become without even noticing. I photo shopped myself in EVERY picture since 2001.  Change can be scary for some people, but for me its like a drug. I thrive on new ideas, new experiences, and new friends. I started going to the YMCA religiously. I met new people who became instant friends. They noticed when I lost weight, they congratulated me on finishing classes, they encouraged me to keep going, I made a decision early on that I would run. I never ran before, except this once when my 1 year old darted toward the street and I bolted about 20 feet to swoop him up before sudden danger. My entire decision making on running was based on a simple observation- you never see obese people running on the side of the road. Runners aren't fat. It may seem superficial but it was motivational. none the less. So I ran, I went about 1/2 a block and had to walk.  It was harder than it looked.  Persuaded by Peer Pressure  I signed up for my first race, The Pufferbilly 5K. Now it was time to get serious. I never pictured myself running a mile, , much less a race. I was to top heavy for running, I bounced far too much people would stare and likely wreck into trees.  I ran with friends a few times a week.to prepare. I had worked my way up to running a mile without stopping in 3 weeks. Pretty impressive in my own personal runners world. The morning of the race I woke up to a silent house. 6 am is very early in the Moore household-- I got dressed and went to the start point. While standing in line for a number and bag, I felt like an impersonator, like at any moment someone was going to laugh and ask if I was joking. No one laughed. I saw my friends and when the start gun went off I felt a burst of energy. I jogged slowly by my friends, it was cool and a little foggy. No one was out except the runners, once you get past the start line it thins out and its every  man for himself. It was like a scene from a movie, almost spiritual to listen to my breath, the sounds of my shoes hitting the pavement, cool air breeze and everyone around me doing the exact same thing but all in their own little bubble of  self challenge. My legs started getting tired at about the 1.5 mile mark. I just kept thinking that if I can just run to the end of the block, if I can just run to that tree up there, if I can just catch up to that girl ahead. It worked. I ran a race. When I ran past the finish line I teared up. It was my mental trophy.   In 6 months, I lost 60 pounds and went from a size 24 to a 12. I did no specific diet. I used the oldest trick in the book  I ate less, and exercised more.  From this one race a dream was born. A few of the ladies decided to start a running club and I joined in. This blog is about my journey to complete a years worth of races. I vow in front of the entire world.-- that I will run 12 races in 12 months and chronicle the journeys of our "Dirty Skirts!"   "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start."