IRON GIRL TRIATHLETE!

According to me, the world and the sponsors of the 2013 Athleta IRON GIRL TRIATHLON and the finishers’ medal I received, I am an IRON GIRL Triathlete! It’s been one week today since I took part my first ever sprint Triathlon. I wanted to wait a week to allow this accomplishment to truly settle in…I am a Triathlete. Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines a Triathlete as one who competes in a triathlon. For the record, I not only competed but completed a triathlon.
 

Getting to the race with all my equipment on time was the hardest part. Sticking to a regular training routine was the second hardest part. I thought the competition would be the hardest part. It was definitely very very challenging but my emotional baggage was the largest obstacle. In the three to five days that preceded the race I allowed myself to believe I had caught a cold possibly even the flu, I then bought into the idea that I was too fat to do the race and I would probably die. Finally, I refused to secure a bike rack for the car and waited till the night before to work it out, such drama! I slept very little the night before the race and awoke feeling dreadful. However, my girlfriend refused to let me wallow in my own 'pig' (emotional self-indulgence and pity) that morning and literally pulled and pushed me out to the race. She had done the same thing just the day before when I was began Seminary. My desire to self sabotage was so great at that point that I missed my train, even though I was up three hours before needing to be at orientation. Without missing a beat my girl got me across the bridge and to class on time with a smile on her face, love in her heart, and lots of believe in my abilities. I had felt little to no such faith on that day or the next. I was sure that with such a jam packed weekend I was going to completely breakdown in overwhelmed.

That 6’9” Ego chick I’ve written about showed up, again! I knew that she was disturbed that I was trying to change how we had been doing shit. So she popped up right before the full and potential transformational weekend and attempted to keep me where she and I had been comfortable, which was with me knowing I had a gift but never actually doing a damn thing about it because I didn’t really deserve it. So before the race and following Egos lead I began reviewing every mistake, wrong, bad, and horrible thing that I had ever thought or done.
 

Luckily days prior to the weekend I had prepped my girlfriend to be on the lookout for Ego chick and my attempts at self-sabotage. I gave her permission to use the Force to stop me in my tracks and promised to obey her orders if and when the time came. Thankfully she was on high alert and I was compliant.
 

When I got to seminary this was shared.

Once a young woman asked Hafiz, "What is the sign of someone knowing God?" Hafiz remained silent for a few moments and looked deep into the young person's eyes, then said, "Dear, they have dropped the knife. They have dropped the cruel knife most so often use upon their tender self and others." 

It hurts to feel that as deeply as I do. So many times, too many times, I am guilty of plunging the knife deeply into my own chest and then twisting. The beat down that I have been able to manifest against my own poor self is epic.
 

So I have decided to quit that crap. Step by step,  day by day. The most interesting things are happening in response to that decision. I am eating a lot less. I know that my obesity is the result of overeating and emotional crap but I didn’t put it all together until now. The first step in treating Erica better is to proper ly nourish the body, the mind, and the spirit. True self love will come from the triad of healthfulness, mindfulness, and Goddess...
 

Now back to the race.
 

The swim of the triathlon was the hardest open water ocean swim of my life! There was actually a seven time full Iron Woman competitor who remarked that the swim was the hardest of her competitive career. People were being dragged out of the water because officials were worried they couldn't make it. Most unfortunately I had forgotten my goggles and rather than give up, since I had gotten there on time, I decided to say 'Yes' and do it anyway. I was use to being in the ocean without goggles anyway, so I figured it wouldn't be so bad. However it was that bad and worse the waves were super choppy and the tumultuous undercurrents were amazingly rough to navigate. My time was pretty slow but I persisted. When the race began I jumped in the water like I was Michael Feldman in an Olympic sized pool. Quite quickly I remembered myself. I shifted gears and worked in flow with the ocean and stopped trying to fight it. Yes, of course...MESSAGE! During a treading water rest I met a woman who was having a much harder time than I was. I told her we would make it together repeating, ‘We got this,’ several times. Together she and I motivated one another through the first and hardest leg of the triathlon. Keeping an eye on her made it so much easier for me, I don’t know how that works but “they” are right when “they” say, ‘helping someone else who is less fortunate than you will make you realize how blessed you truly are.
 

We made it out of the water and I realized how small and fit my new friend was. She and I smiled at one another and as I dragged my ass out of the water barely able to walk, she sprinted her petite self to the biking transition area and was off, fast as hell. I wouldn't see her again until the almost the end of the run.

When I made it to the biking transition area I was extremely thirsty and a bit stuffy. I had accidentally swallowed a healthy share of water and I was guzzling my protein shake and some water as I dried off. I tried to get as much sand from in between my toes as possible and finally realized it was probably a lost cause. I put on my socks, shoes, shirt, and bib and walked my bike to begin the next phase of the tri.
 

Once I mounted my bike and drank more water I began to feel better. It was then that I remember that I loved riding my bike. I began to pedal faster and faster. No matter how fast I pedaled people kept riding past me and saying, ‘On your left!’ and zooming by. I couldn't understand it. I hadn't stopped pedaling and I was nowhere near the halfway mark of the 8.25 mile track. I started to feel like maybe I needed air, I had forgotten to check that before the race. Nope, didn't need air, I kept pedaling. Then I began paying attention to the type of bike everyone passing me was riding. When a twenty eight year old woman who was twice my size sped past me on the thinnest tires I had ever seen I realized that it was my bike. I have a Trek hybrid, its half mountain, half leisure and pretty big compared to the bikes that were zooming past me. As I realized that there was nothing to be done but keep pedaling I took comfort in the fact that in the next race I will have a light speed bike. I kept on chugging along and finally crossed the biking finish line.

I haphazardly parked my bike and set off for the 5k. My legs felt like over cooked spaghetti. I run kind of slow but I was determined to run the whole 3.1 miles. Most of the training I had done was running because that was what scared me the most and what felt like the most difficult after the other two events.

I adjusted my headband and sunglasses and very soon settled into my stride. I only slowed to a walk for 20 yards while I was attempting to grab water and an electrolyte drink. Actually, when I had made other attempts to walk after already running my legs totally refused and insisted I keep running. So I did.

 

No headphones were allowed during any part of the race and that was a bummer as all of my training was done with music. At some point I started singing, cutting, and scratching a remix of Rob Bass’ I wanna rock right now, and LL Cool J’s I need love. I am sure other runners thought I was in great pain or crazy but I didn't even care. It made me smile to cut and scratch like I was DJ Red Alert. It helped me run.  It felt like my air DJ'ing would push me to run faster but that was not the case. At least that wasn't the case until I was about fifty to 75 yards from the finish line. My precious girlfriend had gotten the crowd to start shouting my name and cheering for me. As I got closer and closer to the finish I could hear the screams and make out the ‘Erica! Erica! Erica!’ shouts from the crowd. Somehow the excitement, energy, and sheer faith of the crowd lifted me from my slow DJ pace and I began to sprint faster than I had ever run in my life to the finish line. 

IRON GIRL TRIATHLETE 

I'ma tell you the truth, I didn't do that, my body, and my legs were done. I don’t know how the crowd got my body to obey them when I couldn't get it to obey me but thankfully they did. The love and support and cheering from mostly strangers carried me across the finishing line going faster than I had ever gone in my entire life! Those unknown people used the God force, Life force, whatever you wanna call it to propel me across the finishing line. They didn't know me from Adam but love me and pushed me forward regardless.

 

Completing the triathlon has changed my life and understanding of God. Completing the triathlon has reminded me that we are all divine and we can do anything we desire when we work together and put love first.

That’s what got me successfully through one of the most challenging events, and most jam packed weekends of my life. Actually that is also what has gotten me through a very challenging year.

 

At this point I am not as financially wealthy as I will be. My monetary blessings are on the way. However, right now I know I am rich beyond belief. It showed up in the form of my dear girlfriend, thank you love. It showed up in the cheers of strangers, thank you strangers. It showed up from all of you reading my blog, thank you. I know what is truly most important in life, people, friends, family, and love. That’s the rich that I got. That’s worth more than all the money in the world.

Much love to you Gods!

E~

Have a Perfect Day!

Read. Like. Follow. Comment. Share.

MAN SIZED POO & THE RUNNER

Disclaimer

I’m a lesbian and have been for the past twenty plus years. I didn’t grow up with a brother, father, or any other male as a regular fixture in my home.  Outside of a one term male roommate in college; I’ve never actually lived with a male until my beautiful, stinky -Man Sized Poo creator- little son was born. I do have some close male friends; however, we were never close enough to get into the nitty gritty deets of each others poo or poo processes. I don’t think I’ve ever known when one of my male friends, gay or straight has ever poo’d. I’m not sure why I needed to differentiate between straight or gay with that previous sentence, but oh well.

Anyway, me and the fellas never shared bodily function intimacies like I have with many of the women I have either been with or been friends with.  With women I have shared poo secrets and profoundly personal poo details including poo-ing frequency, size, color, shape and strain. At thirty nine years old I am noticing an increase in the discussion of poo. It’s a poo talk phenomenon and becoming more and more frequent within my age group. We are all near bouts or over forty and I guess we talk poo so much because it’s a healthiness indicator. I know most of us realize how truly important having healthy poo can be. Many of these female relationships go back over two and a half decades and are ripe for new levels of intimacy and a deeper understanding of one another; poo seems to be that natural and deeper next level.

Man Sized Poo. That's what my almost two and a half year old son does.

The fact is when I refer to Man Sized Poo, I’m not speaking from firsthand experience, thankfully. I’m assuming MSP is a lot bigger, smellier and grosser than the delicate movement us softer gentler creatures. Since I do know, firsthand, that we supposed gentler creatures can create evacuations of enormous proportion and loathsome odor it seems logical to deduct that our male counterparts’ mass departures are at least double if not triple our dainty loads. LOL @ Dainty!

The point to this poo ranting blog post is that this morning I told my little almost two and a half year old son that we were going to initiate a new rule. The new rule was that today he was going to wear pull-ups and when he felt the urge to pee or poo he was going to say, ‘mommy, pee pee or mommy poo poo.’ Simple enough. The next step I took was to have my precious boy practice pulling up and pulling down the pull-up. While I did most of the work he did kind of comply if only because I kept directing his hands. Ultimately he said, “yesh,” when I asked if he understood the instruction for the day. I was giddy and hopeful. We hugged, kissed, and tickled, and began our glorious morning. 

First we stopped at the Farmer’s Market and after getting our vegan pastry, my joyful little one asked to carry the bag. I decided that it was a great moment to barter. I agreed to let him hold the bag if he promised to tell me when he had to pee pee or poo poo. He looked at me oddly, however, when I said, “Say ‘yes mommy’, if you agree.” He replied a singsong string of “yesh mommy, yesh mommy, yesh mommy.” Great we were in complete agreement. From the Farmer’s market we continued on our marry way to finish the rest of our errands. 

While we were out my boy had some juice and I reminded him gently of our deal, while it seemed as if he were ignoring me, when I checked his pull-up as we made our way home, it was dry. I was confident success would be mine! When were safely home I began making the little Princes’ bed. That’s when I realized he had left the room and been silent for more than three minutes.

“Boy, where’s my boy?” I called. 

He was silent a moment more, then replied, “Coming.” He bounded into the room and hugged my leg. Then he started picking up toys with me. I thought, ‘what a cooperative young lad, my son!’ I was in ecstatic mommy bliss when we sat down to play with trains. 

That’s when I smelled it. At first I thought it was a ghost poo smell. You know - that smell that always seems to reek of poos gone by? I sometimes think the poo stink gets stuck on my nose hairs or begins to cling to the walls because I feel like I can smell it even when there is certainly nothing there. It’s that fart stank that seems to accompany little boys even when freshly bathed.

Quite unfortunately I soon discovered it was not ghost poo. It was not the slight stench of poo diapers gone by. It was fresh and it was poo present.

“T, did you poo poo?” I asked.

No reply.

“T, come here.” T scampered to me without answering, his two signature cars in hand.

“T did you do a stinky?” I asked calmly and directly.

Still there was no answer from the almost two and a half year old offender.

I pulled him close, looked into his eyes and asked for the final time, “Teverico, did you drop a deuce in your pull-up?”

T, looked up at me coquettishly, and said, “hug mommy.” He hugged me and then tuba puckered his lips and kissed me with a loud “Muah.” Then the little crap maker ran from me as fast as his short long legs could carry him.

“Teverico come back!” I called.

“Bye – bye mommy, bye-bye!” he yelled as he ran.

MPS a.k.a The Runner

I sat for an instant dumbfounded and then began  to ponder my next move; I was and am determined. He will not defeat me! Hell, I had finished a triathlon! I could get this kid to poo on the potty. I got up and gave chase; he’s a fast and slippery little bugger! I finally caught him and he collapsed into my arms as I collapsed onto the sofa. T laughing loudly and screaming, “tickle-tickle-tickle mommy!”

No fair! He was using his cute against my purpose! The gall to be so cute while perfuming the house with his stank!

I swooped the boy up in my arms tickling him as we headed back to his room.

I changed the mega stank nasty Man Sized Poo my little runner had created, all the while lecturing.

“Teverico, we made a deal, you agreed. In this life when you make a deal, especially about the potty, it’s really important to stick to it. It’s about integrity son, you gotta have integrity. It’s one of the four agreements.”

He laughed completely oblivious to the pearls I was offering.

After the changing, I continued to lecture and tickle.

“I don’t know if I will feel comfortable making deals with you in the future because you don’t even seem to care about reneging on this one. Do you know how that makes mommy feel…”

Hey don’t judge me! People say talk to your kids as if they understand what we’re saying, so…

There seems little need for me to continue. You get the point. Plus, T had started zurberting my face!

That’s the end of my little tale about Man Sized Poo and a cute almost two and a half year old runaway.

I send wishes for you to have the most productive releases of your life today and every day.

Much Love!

E~

Read. Like. Follow. Share.

Have a Perfect Day!

Learning to Love Myself

Good Morning Folks!

And it is a Good Morning, quite possibly a Great Morning, but it's early so let's not push it.

I don't mean to quote Whitney Houston as much as I do, I'm sure I should be quoting, Jesus, the Budha, or some other deity more often. However, Whitney said so very much that resonates in my heart with her song.

Learning to love yourself is the greatest gift of all. She ain't neva lied.

I am learning to love myself and to keep it real, I will admit that it is much friggin' harder than I thought! Loving myself seems to start from the moment I wake to the moment I sleep. Learning to love myself is one of the biggest challenges I have undertaken.

Loving me is so much more than just strutting around with an over confident, inflated ego boasting about my greatness. Loving me is a much quieter process.

Quite has not been my forte, but I'm learning. Learning the grace of listening, the love of allowing another to have the focus. I'm learning the value in mindfulness and thoughtfulness before speaking. I have not mastered it, yet, but I am continually conscious of the work.

The biggest part of the work is showing up for myself.

I show up to love me when I wake up with gratitude instead of grumbling. I show up to love me when I eat healthy portions of healthy foods. I show up to love me when I care for my body with loving acts and exercise. I show up to love me when I discipline my mind to be present.

Ah ha! That last one, that right there, is the dang hardest one to do with any consistency. My mind is a swirl of thoughts and it can be a wild and crazy place up in there! For Real. When I let my ideas, grab hold of my thoughts, and those thoughts start working with fleeting emotions....chile', trouble can be a brewin'! Next thing you know, 'they' are against me, 'nobody' loves or cares for me, and 'I' am broken, alone, and miserable.

Showing up to love me stops that madness.

So I'm learning that the way to love me best is to work from the inside out. Catching the little negative ideas before they get a chance to blossom fully into destruction flowers is my goal.

It's about starting over. I start over a thousand times a day and in order to really love me up, I attempt to start over with out ripping myself apart for needing to start over in the first place.

The following is an excerpt from a Yoga magazine that I read for the first time almost a year ago. I keep going back to it...

In Responding to a monk who demanded to know whether the world was eternal whether an enlightened person reincarnates, the Buddha used the analogy of a man who has been shot with an arrow. If, before extracting the arrow and tending the to his wound, the man insists on knowing the name, family, village, and race o the archer, and what the arrow is made of, how effective is he in dealing with his injury? What needs immediate attention is the situation created by the arrow.

Starting-over practice is like this - you attend as best you can to the immediate situation that is challenging you, keeping yourself firmly rooted in the present. You shift your focus away from dwelling on those circumstances and characteristics that limit you and redirect toward recognizing the strengths from which you can realize your potential. You become a more effective person by simply learning to use your time and energy to do what you can do right now. By Phillip Moffitt

Alright folks that's all for me today. Enjoy starting over and starting over and starting over today.

Read. Like. Follow.

Much Love,

E~

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Wild Geese

By Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Read, Like, Follow. Have a Great Day! E~