on your knees you look up decide you've had enough. you get mad, you get strong, wipe your hands, shake it off. then you stand.

I have officially survived race conditions. Now did it come with pre-race pouts, 5 year old fits and high-pitched whines of "I don't wanna!"? Of course it did. And did it mean some scrapes, scars, bruises, tears and fears in the process? Hell yeah it did. But am I living proof that big girls can do it? Yes I am.

We had our first and only "mock" triathlon this past weekend. An homage to the Malibu Classic tri, it was slated to be a .5m ocean swim, 18m bike and a 4m run. Wetsuited up and ready we headed down to the beach only to find that riptides would make the .5 miles of (tear-stained hell in the 50 degree waters) swim an impossibility. Let's just say I wasn't sad...So NOT sad in fact that I think I was the loudest person out there to scream "YES! YES! YESSS!!! OH GOD YES!"... So with a 'dip your toes in' start, we ran up the beach, stripping wetsuits ready to attack T1. 

Looking back, I should have taken my g-damn time getting ready for the bike. But instead, at the beratement of several of my "support staff" I rushed through my change and took off on the bike with only one bike glove on, the other in hand. Fast forward 100 yards as I try to secure the 2nd glove mid ride, hit a nasty pot hole and go flying, bike and left ass check sliding a few yards further.......... I just lay there, pain running through my side, in total shock of what had just happened as fellow racers gasped and screamed "Are you okay?"

Every time you get up and get back in the race
One more small piece of you starts to fall into place

I don't know what small piece of me spoke up to snap me out of it - maybe it was that girl who was sick and tired of being called fat, the one with the screw you attitude towards anyone who said she 'couldn't do' something in life, the one that new that giving up and letting go wasn't an option. Regardless of which deep down depth I pulled it from, I inevitably got up, dusted the gravel out of the cuts on my arm and leg, checked my bike to make sure it was still race functional and just kept riding. And riding. And then running. And running. Until 2 hours later when I passed that finish line. Strong, standing and proud. 

(Side note: To top it all off, still on my race high, I got off my arse on Tuesday night and went for a run. But not just ANY run... it was supposed to be an easy 2.5 miler ('cause let's face it, that's the farthest I've gone and the longest I was comfortable with). I don't know what possessed me to try out a new route too, but I grabbed my ipod with it's new list of pump me up songs and hit the road, fully expecting that chest seizing panic attack to set in within the first 5 minutes, rendering me a walking racer. But it didn't come, and i kept going... and when I got to mile 3, I kept going after that. And about mile 4, when everything started to hurt, I decided I needed to make it all the way home before I stopped, so I kept going longer. And then when I finally got to my front door, 70 minutes later, downed a Gatorade to stop from passing out and realized (thank you Google Maps) that I had actually run 5.5 miles I almost had a heart attack. I have NEVER run 5.5 miles in my life. NEVER. Let alone without stopping, walking, or dying in the process. I had never even CONSIDERED it a possibility. EVER. But I did it. Somehow. And it felt damn good. )

Today's Jam: "Stand" by Rascal Flatts (Me and My Gang 2006)

Tri this Emotion: Standing strong, emotionally

Special Props Go Out To: My favorite 3rd baseman ever Kari, the fabulously funny Jen and my long-lost UIFIer Dustin for their great donations to LLS.

The Be-All End-All Attitude: Unstoppable.