Guest blogger - me???

Last week I got a direct tweet from bicycling.com. They asked if I would be a guest blogger for Bill Strickland while he was on leave. I said "HELL YES" and wrote up a post in about an hour. Today they published it.

Check it out here.

Schababerle Road Race Report

After losing my job on Thursday, I was in full blown freak out mode by Friday. I wasn't sure how I was going to fill up my days and hours. My mind was full of questions - why? how? I was totally blindsided.

I went running in the woods for an hour and a half after hitting up a lunchtime meeting, then met Christa for a kick ass weight session at the Y. Afterward we had dinner and I was able to forget about my worries for a bit.

After a morning meeting on Saturday, I went riding w/ Chip and it was cold and windy. After 18 miles, we ducked into Starbucks and stayed there for an hour. I made the 15 mile trek home, after climbing some insane hills near Mt. Lookout sq. Later we met up with Christa for some dinner in Clifton. Thank GOD for good friends!












All week long, I'd been hearing about this legendary race course, and how brutal the course was, especially the climb. Some of the hardest guys I know were talking about it on Facebook and it got my curiosity going, even though I said I wasn't going to race road this year. I felt this need to really suffer and feel some physical pain.

Annie Mac didn't have a hard time talking me into racing late Saturday night and even agreed to drive. Sunday morning, we had a dusting of snow on the ground and it was 27 degrees with 20MPH winds. The sun was shining and I was optimistic the snow would be gone by the start of the race at noon.













At the start, there were 17 women. I love the 1st few miles of a road race, we sound like a whole bunch of cackling old (but FIT) hens. I caught up with a few ladies from last year for about 4 miles, and then we turned right. The course marshal yelled, "It's all uphill from here ladies, GOOD LUCK!"

(Thanks Dave, for the elevation profile)












I knew the climb was long, and a few girls just went for it. I wasn't going to blow up in the first 1/4 mile of the hill, knowing it was a few miles long. Sure enough, not even halfway up, girls were stopped. One girl looked like she was teetering over. Poor Amanda snapped her derailleur cable and was out. I rode past her and just kept going, on the wheel of her teammate, Candy. We had a false flat, a fun descent and then the hill continued up, up and up and finally we were at the top. My lungs were on fire and my chest was starting to close up. The coughing started.

I continued to ride behind Candy, and pulled up next to her, offering to pull. No answer. I yelled at her again, "You wanna work together?". No answer. So I just pushed past her and kept riding, up and down hills, all alone, until I could see a couple of girls ahead. It was Annie Mac and another girl, and I worked hard to bridge up. I was coughing and spitting and snot was dripping out of my nose and Annie asked if I had my inhaler, which was a big fat no. So they pulled me the rest of the 1st lap and when we got to the flats I said I could pull, feeling bad for sucking wheel so much. Annie insisted I just hang.

Once we made the turn into the climb, I knew I would lose them. I was thinking I would DFL because my chest was on fire and I couldn't stop coughing. I continued up the hill, alone, passing a Cat 5 guy, and once at the top, I screamed "AHHHHHH!".

The finish line was staged at the top of this hill, and all kinds of people were watching from there. Jeff, the photographer, was there and he yelled, "Smile!" as I heaved my way up.

















The 2nd lap Candy caught me and we worked together. I was still coughing and spitting and blowing snot like crazy. She had said she couldn't hear a thing in the wind and that's why she didn't answer me before. We rode that loop together, and then once we turned into the climb, my chain popped off. I told her to go ahead and popped it back on, making the climb alone. I never caught her again although she was in my sight.

I was DYING.

I lost my chain a total of 3xs (Ron, I need a new chain and cog!) during the race. I rode the 3rd lap alone, passing another Cat 5 guy who wanted to get all fucking Chatty Cathy on me, telling me it was his 1st race, blah blah blah. Christa was driving the lead car for the 1/2 men and rolled up next me, screaming out of the window "YOU ARE LOOKING GREAT!!". The lead men were only two, and they almost ran me off the road. The cat 5 men had more manners, calling "on your left", and then "thank you". I passed up Jaime, Annie Mac's teammate, who had some bad cramping problems, and I yelled out "COCONUT WATER!" at him after seeing him walk his bike up the hill, suffering from bad cramps.

On the last climb, I wanted to get off my bike so bad. The last few feet of the hill, where it was sooooo fucking steep, everyone was at the top, watching. I crossed the finish line, and basically keeled over. I couldn't even ride back to the car. Annie Mac hitched a ride with her friend, and I threw my bike on Christa's bike rack, and we met back at the start.

I got 4th out of the 7 cat 3/4 women that started. Two were DNF's. I beat a few of the 1/2/3's by several minutes though which felt really good. Not a bad way to start the season, but why am I always missing the podium by ONE place??? SOOO frustrating!!

We got burritos at Habanero's after the race and chowed. What a great day, and a great way to get my mind off the really fucked up state my life is in right now.

I got fired from my job today.

My year end review has been scheduled for a couple of weeks. It was the first review I have had at this company in almost 4 years. It was set for today at 11am at the old office I used to work out of, before we started working from home.

I went in, nervous as hell, but optimistic I would be getting a raise. We haven't raises in 2 years! Just a DECREASE in pay in the fall of 2009. My boss didn't waste anytime getting down to business. Instead of a review, she handed me termination papers.

Terminated.

Fired.

Canned.

I didn't hear anything else.

Terminated.

I looked at my boss, she looked like she was on pain pills. I stared at her pinned out pupils and as she spoke, I heard nothing. She looked bloated, like she had gained about 30lbs. I got up and walked out of the office. I had to go home and get my work PC and phone and bring it back to her by 3pm. It was surreal. I was stunned.

Terminated.

I sat in the car and dialed Dominic's work and when he got on the phone, he was calm as he always is.

"Don't worry honey. I got this. I got us."

I called my Mom, who I've been pissed at for weeks. She was nothing but supportive and concerned. I love you Mom!!!

I called my friends in recovery. I said a prayer.

An hour later I was home, and it all hit me at once. The tears flowed for a few minutes. I set to work unplugging all my work equipment. It was actually kind of therapeutic. The elaborate set up - two PC's hooked up to one monitor and one mouse - was a fucking mess of wires under my desk. The work phone was the first to go. I hate that fucking phone. It honks constantly when people are on hold, because of how short staffed we are. Next up was the headset, and then the PC itself. I loaded it all into the car and was glad to be rid of it.

A calmness set over me.

I've stayed amazingly positive all day. I know this has happened for a reason. Something better is going to come along. I just know it.

Fuck that job. Fuck those people.
This is going to their loss. Not mine.

I feel human again!

It has been a rough week of emotional distress and upset. I felt like I was losing my mind! I went to a meeting on Friday and nearly everyone spoke of their anxiety and restlessness. I was so relieved when I found out about the super full moon and realized I wasn't the only one feeling like a straight up lunatic. Nearly everyone spoke of being pissed off and angry at someone or something.













Saturday, work sucked. I was swamped with call after call after call and all of them seemed to be incredibly difficult international disasters. I was in tears most of the day. Poor Dominic, he left for work an hour and a half early just to get the fuck away from me. I was lashing out at him for anything and everything.

Sunday morning, I awoke in tears again. The feeling of despair and anger filling my heart once again. I walked the dogs and talked to a friend on the phone. When I came home, Dominic wrapped his arms around me, and made me shut up and listen. He told me how much he loved me, despite my total insanity, and that he was never going to leave my side. I am so lucky to have him. How the hell do I deserve this man? Isn't he handsome?













We had a lovely day riding, it was so fun. We took our MTBs out in the city, and he made adjustments to my fit along the way. The Voodoo is bad ass. I cannot wait to take it on some trails. I love the bounce when I stand up to climb - yes I kept the suspension on, in traffic. It was fun as hell. I never even used the granny gear and hot damn, that bike climbs better than my road bike. We were out all day, and the temps climbed into the 60's and the sun even came out.

I ended the day with dinner, burgers at Zip's, and good company from my homegirls, Stacy and Wendy. We have dinner once a month and the hours just fly by. I've known them both for over 20 years and it's nice to have them in my life.

Have a great week, I know mine will be good.

Back pain? What back pain?

I don't really know where to start, after spilling my guts here last week. I wasn't going to post at all for a while, but I feel an update is in order.

I spent most of last weekend nursing my back.

By Sunday I felt good enough to go for a 5.5 mile trail run. I lost myself in my head for well over an hour in the woods. I climbed the Stone Steps without any issues and my back actually felt better after the run. Add in the 3 miles I hiked with the dogs and that's a pretty good amount of exercise.

The next day, I decided to take another day off the bike. Dominic and I went to the gym to lift weights. I went with very light weight and heavy reps. Later I sat in the steamroom and did some stretching and then soaked in the sauna, which felt awesome. After the gym, I rode my beater bike downtown to my massage, which is only about 5 miles. Sue, from Inner Peace, worked on me for a good hour and my back was feeling about 98% after that.

Tuesday was an ugly day, it rained. I had planned to go on a LBS ride out of Newport, but instead I rode the rollers for 2 full hours. My back was aching on the right side, like it used to back when I was training for the Ironman. I popped Advil and rubbed Icey Hot on the sore spots, and after the ride I felt pretty good.

Yesterday I had my delivery job in the AM, and I was done in under 2 hours. HOLLA! When I was finished, the sun was shining and the temps were rising. I met Chip downtown and we rode over to Devou Park for hill repeats. Devou is a long slow climb, and we did it 6xs. It felt awesome. I fucking love to climb hills.

This morning I rode the trainer for an hour, doing endurance intervals, and then hiked with my pups for a half hour. My back is feeling great!

I have 17 days now, free of substance. I've been hitting up meetings about 4xs a week. Sometimes the meetings are really good and I walk away with a huge feeling of relief. Other times the meetings suck and I walk away thinking that it was a waste of time. No matter what, I will keep going because I know it is the right thing to do. I spent time with an old friend I used to shoot dope with back in the day. She has so much peace in her heart and I really want that too.

Have a great weekend and thanks for reading.

Is this a test?

Yesterday, while delivering papers, I did something to my back. A pinched nerve, muscle spasm, herniated disc, I'm not really sure what exactly.

Even after a last minute acupuncture session, the pain took my breath away last night. I was flat on my back, unable to bend over, unable to sit, only able to lay flat or stand up. Advil every 4 hours didn't touch the pain, so I alternated ice and heat packs while I researched online. Later I took a hot bath in epsom salts. I also had an IM chat with Major Beth, bike racer/PT who suggested I ask my doc for a shot of something called Toradol.

Sleep last night was....horrible. Everytime I tried to move, I cried out in pain.

WHY OH WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN NOW?

I said a prayer out loud as I drove to see my PCP this morning. All I could think about was whether or not I could get through this amount of pain without taking pain pills. My DR came in with her laptop, typing away as I spoke of the injury, offering me muscle relaxers and an anti-inflammatory. She agreed to the shot of toradol and when I asked if I should take pain killers her response was appropriate.

"No, let's try to stay away from those."

They made me stay a little while to make sure I didn't have a reaction to the shot and when I stood up, I felt about 30% better. I could even bend over a bit and the drive home wasn't nearly as painful.

I hope whatever this is goes away fast.

DC post

According to Gnome, this is my best post 'eva.
Check it out.

"The marijuana maintenance program doesn't work."

I've fought it for so long.

I've always said "I can do it on my own". I don't know if I can anymore. I just know I don't want to use any drugs.

Including weed.

I can't remember having such a hard time when I quit to train for IMKY. I know for sure I wasn't drenching the sheets like I have the last 3 nights. The vivid dreams too.

There was a time when I went to 2 or 3 meetings a day - when I lived in a halfway house and we had meetings 'round the clock. I liked them. Plus I was court ordered.

The first time I went to a 12 step recovery meeting, I was in my teens. I just realized that today, sitting in yet, another meeting.

I am struggling, and when I struggle, I always find myself back there.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I know the program works, you just have to give yourself to it, and that scares the fucking shit out of me. Giving yourself to the program means working out the problems on the inside and that's something I've never been able to do. I brush it under the rug, everyfuckingtime.

And I've always ended up using some kind of substance.

To quote Tom Dolak, a therapist I know who works and lives with addicts in a sober living house:

"addiction is a disorder of intimacy: sufferers hate themselves and with projective identification they seem to hate others. they detest much about the way they believe they are and attempt to conceal all but what they fabricate as the public persona. it's a nervous proposition and the risk of being found out causes a good amount of anxiety."

That hit home for me. Thanks Tom.

I can't play this game anymore. It's time to face my demons head on so they can't torture me anymore.