Yes Miles, Your Mom is a Superhero

February 3rd, 2010

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Yes Miles, Your Mom is a Superhero

 

            The boys and I went to go see Avatar this weekend and there was a preview of a new movie coming out that has real people pretending to be superheroes.  “Mom, that would be so cool” Miles exclaimed!  Little does he realize his Mom is already a superhero.  Yes by day, I am just another Clark Kent.  I am dressed in a suit, I work in an office, and instead of reporting the news; well, I watch the market.  Believe me, these days the happenings on Wall Street are pretty crazy.  To the untrained eye, I look like a typical working Mom, ha, are they so wrong.  No, I can not stop trains, leap buildings, or use my laser vision, I wish.  My super hero garb does not have a cape, maybe next year, but Pactimo, Lazer, Bell, and Sundog made sure it was just as cool as Superman’s.  I do not have a Batmobile, nope.  My superhero mobile is made by Specialized, but mine can climb mountains and is as light as a feather.  You see Miles, while you dream of Legos, skiing, and bikes, I am working hard chasing my dream of being the best athlete I can be.  Before the Colorado sun rises above the mountains, I am in the pool, pretending I am a fish.  While you are in school studying hard, I am sure; I am working hard to help others live their own dreams.  Some days are tough and I feel defeated by the evil forces in the World, but some days are wonderful and I feel like I saved the day.   No matter how hard the day’s battles are, I will always be home in time to help with homework and to hear about your adventures.  While you play with your friends, I will sneak away and race the clouds on my bike.  Up, up, and away, racing to see who can reach the sky first.  Or maybe I will run with the wind, gasping for air, until my legs burn.  At the end of it all, I will fall into my pillow tired from it all, but not before I kiss you goodnight.  Even superheroes say I love you and this supermom is no exception. 

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The Greatest Lesson Learned

January 15th, 2010

familyThe Greatest Lesson Learned

 

            Here I am.  It is 2010 and I swear I am having problems recognizing that person staring back at me in the mirror.  She does not even look like the old me.  Last year was rough on me and no matter how hard I tried, there were too may tears and not enough smiles.  There was no explanation for my heartache; at least, not a simple one.  I am used to challenges and last year had some hurdles, but no bigger then any other year.  My life can get a little crazy.  I have a stressful job, two boys to watch over, and a table to put food on, but all of that is normal.  It was my tiny little secret that brought me so much sadness.  I found triathlon, Xterras that is, on a whim.  It was not part of a calculated plan.  It was just a way for me to get out of the house, get some exercise, escape the stress and reality of my day to day life, and the cries of a newborn and toddler.  What I got back from the sport is more then I could ever put into words.  It gave me confidence, coping skills, and most importantly, a slew of great new friends.  I never took myself too seriously and looked at each race as a new adventure that was until the end of 2008.  My husband coaxed me into taking my participation to the next level.  It was time to get serious, work hard, and focus on having a great 2009 season.  Guess what happened?  All of that stress on top of life stress and work stress caused me to pretty much have a complete breakdown.  The thing that I loved was now a burden, there were no adventures in front of me, but instead things I had to do.  My swim got slower, my bike got slower, my run fell apart, and worst of all, my smile was gone.  I can see it in the pictures from last year.  There is sadness and fear in my eyes, not joy.  It was a downward spiral, the worse I did, the worse I felt about myself.  I was a bad wife, a bad Mom, and a bad friend.  So after a season of lackluster results, barely qualifying for Nationals, and missing a Maui spot, it was time for some serious evaluation and soul searching.  It was not my entire fault, there were outside factors, but at the core of the problem was the unneeded pressure I put on myself.  I was terrified of missing a workout, so I trained when I was tired, I trained when I was hurt, and I trained when I should have been spending time doing other things.  I refused to go on a fun ride with friends until the season was over, no girl time, and I chose training over spending time with my family.  My friends attempted to help me, so did my husband, but sometimes when you are stuck in a hole; you do not know how to get out; all you can do is kick at the dirt walls and scream.  At first I was going to quit, give up, walk away and never race again, but then it came to me, I just needed to have fun again.  The first step was taking a week off at Christmas in exchange for some quality family time on the ski slopes.  There was no talk of training, not even a word.  The only words we spoke related to racing were my Mom attempting to convince me to race in Georgia, so she could see me.  Georgia I thought a new adventure!  I found balance again.  Training was fun and not a burden even under the blanket of fresh Colorado snow and cold air.  I am once looking forward to a year of new adventures, new friends, and lots of laughs.  That is not to say that I do not train, I do and I work hard, but now I am doing it because I want to, not because I have to.  The structure and rigor may work for some people, but for me I do much better when I am enjoying myself.  Sometimes the greatest lessons learned are sometimes the simplest, but the most life changing.  Here is to 2010, may it bring us all a little more smiles and laughs.  I think the whole World could use more of that right about now.

 

Digging Deep for Discipline

January 11th, 2010

By Heather McNamara

One word triathletes know all too well is discipline.  To be a competitor in tris requires hours of dedication, training and focus.  It means getting out of bed when you want to sleep in, it means going for a ride or run when you’d rather be lazy, and it means being smart about nutrition when you’d rather not have to think about it and just eat chips and salsa instead!  So for many of us that can mean the hardest time of year to be a disciplined triathlete is not during peak race season, when schedule’s are tight and everything runs like a well-oiled machine. No, the hardest time to maintain the discipline of triathlon is the down time of year, after most of the big races have come and gone.  The time of year that comes as warm weather begins to cool, when summer gives way to fall, and days full of swimming, biking, running and obsessively recording all sorts of mind-numbing data in training journals start to get replaced by days full of comments like “Hey, what time is The Family Guy on?”  It’s a time generically known in popular American culture as “the holidays”.  Or as I may start referring to them, “the horror-days”. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the extremely commercial yet poignant and religious time of year between October 31 and December 26th as much as the next guy.  But is it me, or is it becoming increasingly harder to not blow 9 months of solid nutrition and training in the last 3 months of the year?  Why is it that the focus of the holiday season seems to be consumption, whether it be fiscal or food?  From the end of October right through December we are bombarded by temptation from media, friends, family, and co-workers to eat drink and be merry.  Initially, with the latest competitive accomplishments still fresh in mind, succumbing to this constant barrage can easily be averted.  But no normal person can expect to fend off these attacks forever.  Sooner or later, especially when the past season becomes a fading memory,  even the most disciplined can fall prey.  We find ourselves suddenly less lean, less fit, and moving at a pace that feels very close to that of a sloth.  

So what is one to do when the realization of January hits?  When it is cold and dark outside, when our bike shorts or swimsuit fit a little less comfortably?  When the disconcerting jiggle of our own body parts as we run is enough to bring us to tears?!  Get right back into it!  Grab a tissue, dry your eyes and suck it in…er I mean up, and look back on the past couple of months with fondness and appreciation.  Be thankful for the opportunity to take life a little slower and to have extra time.  Make a vow to do better in the future, then forge ahead. Put on those bike shorts (ignore any unsightly bulges, most of us are training  in our basements this time of year anyway), and ride away (or in place as the case may be) with the same determination and discipline that was there before.  Focus on what can be done in the future, not what can’t be changed in the past. 

See, even if the discipline waned a bit in the final months of the year, that is ok.  It is still there, waiting to be resurrected along with the smelly running shoes in the closet, waiting to be called upon once again.  And when that happens discipline will get you back to where you want to be.  Fit and ready.  Ready to start the whole crazy process all over again.  Ready to focus, with discipline, on the road ahead.  The road that leads to the life we love and wouldn’t trade for anything, even if it does get put on hold for a few months out of the year.

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The Misfit Toys of Triathlon

December 11th, 2009

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The Misfit Toys of Triathlon

 

            It is Christmas season and all of my favorite shows are on T.V.  The boys and I are cuddled on the couch watching the same Holiday specials I watched as a young girl.   The snow is falling outside and the thermometer is dropping rapidly every evening from the chill of the Colorado night.  My boys laugh at the characters and the antiquated animation, but they love it just the same.  One of my favorite ones is about the misfit toys.  I can relate to the feeling of just not fitting in.  I got the last issue of Inside Triathlon and it was beautiful, filled with pictures from Kona, but there were no pictures from Maui, not even one.  You see we Xterra athletes are a strange bunch, the misfit toys of the triathlon world. 

            I know this personally because I live in the Mecca that is Boulder, Colorado.  It is a wonderful and beautiful place to live, but as a triathlete, it can be well, overwhelming.  As an Xterra athlete, I have found that the mountain bikers scoff at me for being a triathlete.  The road triathletes also look down their noses at us.  How can we be triathletes when we ride mountain bikes?  The ITU racers scoff as well.  Xterra racers, they can not even swim, they say.  Do not even get me started on the Ironman crowd, only those that have raced along side us think Xterra is hard.  I understand an outsiders’ confusion.  I mean how hard could it be if the whole field is beaming ear to ear.   You see, that is where we have everyone fooled.  Little do they realize that we are actually having fun out there, yes fun.  There is little attitude among the pros, we all start together and is not uncommon to hear the cheering you on as you cross the finish line.  We know a lot about our fellow racers.  We know what they do for work, we have met their families, and we have shared in their heartbreak and their triumphs.  We are at the start of the race laughing and wishing each other good luck.  We encourage each other, by name, as we pass our fellow racers.  We smile at the camera crews and give them a thumbs up and a smile, even when we are seriously hurting.  When you grow tired of racing Xterras and move on, you will be surely missed and people will reminisce about you and the time you shared together.  Maybe it is because the people at Team unlimited are so wonderful.  Maybe it is because Xterra was born in Maui.  I think that we are just a wonderful group of people bound by our love of playing in the outdoors, wherever on that globe that may be.  So to all you outsiders, come and join us we promise a great time, good company, and some wonderful stories.  For me, I am fine being labeled a misfit; at least I have some wonderful company.

 

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