Chicago, Round 1

August 26th, 2012. My first Olympic distance triathlon. I had a new bike. I had new running shoes. I had a new swim suit (because I still didn't understand wetsuits). But I had actually trained. So that was something, right?

The swim was in Lake Michigan. It was in a harbor, so somewhat protected by the waves that can develop. All I remember is the madness of the start. Limbs flying, we're producing our own waves, people swimming over other people. These chicks were for real! But I'm a strong swimmer, so I took off  with them. And made it. Finished that swim in 32.28. Not terrible, I didn't think, for my first time.

Then my nemesis. The bike. But wait! I had a beautiful new bike! No longer my nemesis! And he wasn't. He did great. I did great. I rode Earendil (yes, I phrase it that way intentionally), to a time of 1:30.35. It was such a boring out and back, out and back, loop on Lake Shore Drive (LSD). They have since changed it, but that first time? Oh my how awful. You go all the way up north, you turn around, you come back down south, you can hear the transition area! And then you have to go back out and do it again. Mentally fatiguing! And Chicago, while flat, does have some unexpected inclines and LSD! I wasn't prepared for those. My tree-trunk thighs handled them admirably though. Like they still do.

So now it was time for my true nemesis. The run. And I say this because it is. I am not, evolutionarily, built to be a runner. I'm just not. I build bulk muscle instead of lean muscle, I've got ridiculously wide hips (the actual pelvis, not just the giggly stuff encasing it), and I discovered a genetic condition which makes me uniquely prone to soft tissue injuries (more on that in later posts!). All in all, running = bad. But, if I want to be a triathlete, and I was gonna finish this race, I need to run. So I did. And by that, I mean, I mostly walked again. All 6.2 miles. But I did it! Run time was 1:17.04. But damn there was nothing like crossing that finish line at 3:29.36. Only some 45 minutes behind my sprint time of approximately half the distance! I am amazing! I cried. Ugly cried. Oh it was so ugly. Sobbed into my mom's arms. I think other racers were actively worried about me. Did I care? Hell, no! I did it! I finished! I had new goals! And I was ready for all that came next.

2012--no idea weight, but less than 250!

New bike, new life

I had been bitten by the triathlon bug. I knew I wanted to do more of these. Lots more. And I also knew that my basic bike was not going to cut it. So graduation money saw me buying my first road bike. A beautiful 2011 1.1C, size 54cm. He's a gorgeous blue and black beast and he's named Earendil (after a mariner from the JRR Tolkien universe--nerd alert!!!). And yes, he's a he and I named him. I name all my bikes. Don't worry about it. 6 years later and I still have him.

I didn't think I wanted to do another sprint triathlon. I was pretty sure, by this point, with a new bike, having lost a ton more weight, and being in much better shape, I wanted to bump it up to an Olympic distance. This is a 1.5K (just under a mile) swim, 40K (just under 25 miles) bike, and 10K (6.2 mile) run. I could do all of these stand alone, so combining them couldn't be that bad, right?

At this point, additionally, I had graduated college, moved back in with my parents, floundered for a while, and finally figured out that I wanted to be a nurse. I was living in Chicago, attending nursing school at DePaul University. So what better triathlon to do than the Chicago Triathlon? Chicago 2012, I was coming!

First Triathlon

By now, it's senior year. I'm losing weight by running and swimming again. My knee feels awesome. I'm starting to be happy again. I decided I wanted to really push myself. I had heard rumors of this evil event in which you swim, bike, and run--all in one day! A triathlon. I wanted to become a triathlete! See also, one who doesn't understand that sucking at one sport is hard enough. I was slowly running, I already had the swimming background, and really, how hard could biking be? Done. I registered for my first triathlon! Quad Cities Triathlon. Sprint Distance. 600 yard swim, 15 mile bike, 3.1 mile run. Seemed completely doable. 

I started training. And by training, I mean I'd sort of go for a run. Or I'd sort of go for a ride. The riding part was particularly laughable. I was in college. There were few places to bike. My bike sucked. I had all of the excuses. But in my head, I still knew I could do it. No problem. Or so I thought. 

The morning arrived. Unfortunately, because I'm writing this 7 years after the fact, I have no idea the date. I know it was June, 2010. And I also have to pictures, despite the internet holding on to everything. Wtf internet?! Where are my terrible pictures?!?! Moving on. My parents came down for the race. They were worried. I could tell. But I wasn't. I could do this. I had "trained." 

The swim was great. If you like being in a murky, freezing quarry where you can't see anything. Simply delightful. I swam in just a one piece suit. What did I know about wetsuits? What's a wetsuit? Don't you use that for scuba diving?! But for how ill-prepared I was, I did fairly well. Felt good coming out of the water. I had this in the bag. 

And then came the bike. I had an ancient, rusted out mountain bike that had to have weighed 800 pounds. I mean, obviously not, but it certainly seemed like it! I was virtually moving backwards. Hindsight being what it is, I really killed the swim because just about everyone passed me on the bike. Everyone. A 70 year old, legally blind woman passed me. True story. 

And then came the run. My least favorite part. I was still worried about my knee, it was freaking the surface of the sun by that point, and I was so dead. Legs felt like jelly. I don't remember how much I walked, but I know it was most of it. I vividly remember passing a group of firemen at one point. I must have looked utterly horrendous because they all begged me to stop for a bit. To stop the race. I didn't feel that bad, so I replied "no, I'll see you at the finish. Wait for me." (I probably didn't say anything nearly that smooth, but I know I kept going--this is my story, right?). Finally, I hit the 3 mile mark. Just 0.1 to go! I started sprinting. Well, my version of it. But I sprinted right across that finish line, through a tent that was there, and into the firemans' arms because my momentum was that powerful. I did it! I was a triathlete! Time was 2:46.48 (that information I could find...). I came in second to last overall. And I loved every minute of it! 

The beginning

This story begins at my birth, but there was a lot of nonsense for 20 years, literally, of me always being a fat kid. That's really all you need know. From 1988 to 2008, fat kid. I swam competitively for 10 of those years. Still a fat kid. I got slightly skinnier, but fat kid. And I'm ok with this. Really. It's part of who I am, and it's part of what has made me stronger and healthier today. I wouldn't be who I am without all the struggles that led of to it. Anyway, let's fast forward those 20 years to October of 2008.

It was homecoming week in undergrad. I was a junior. Naturally, I was going to participate in all ridiculous manner of activities. (Fun fact--completely sober for all events. I promise). One such activity was the Tug-of-War. Now, as a former swimmer, I did have residual muscles. Yes, they were buried under layer after layer of freshman 15 and sophomore spread, (there has to be a fun alliteration for junior year, but I have yet to hear it), but the muscles still existed. Swimmers' shoulders and thighs the size of tree trunks! So of course, armed with hubris and my team, I knew we were going to crush our competition. And we did! And something else that happened? I tore my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). Yep. In a non-contact, hardly mobile event, I blew out my knee. I also happened to dislocate my patella (knee cap), slightly strain my medial collateral ligament (MCL), and build up a shit-ton of effusion (fluid in the joint). I'm so talented!

Fast forward again to January of 2009. Surgery! Exclamation point to emphasize the horribleness of it, not my excitement or joy. It was truly awful. Pain unlike anything I'd ever experienced. The actual injury hurt less than immediately post-op. I woke up crying, they gave me more pain meds. I woke up crying again, I was maxed out on pain meds. So I just laid there, crying, waiting to see my parents. Super fun times. And then the real work began! I had to learn how to use my entire leg all over again. In just 3 short weeks of true immobility, my muscles in the left leg atrophied an insane amount. I only had one thigh the size of a tree trunk! What is a girl to do?! Work at it. Very hard. Physical therapy was 6 months. I started out on crutches, non-weight bearing. Even got a handicapped parking decal! It was winter. My dr didn't want me falling. Eventually transitioned to weight bearing with crutches. Then crutch. Then just me hobbling around like an old lady, sans handicapped decal. Finally, I could walk normally!!

By this point, the already overweight junior in college was getting ready to become an even more overweight senior in college. I finished up PT right around the end of the school year. We had slowly gotten me back into running. Very slowly. I was lucking if I could run a mile in 14 minutes. But I was running! That year started and, in addition to completely losing my way as far as what to do after graduation, I also started to lose weight! My heaviest, me in the front in green, I was 250 pounds. Brutal. But a switch flipped. I was unhappy, unhealthy, and had already had one knee surgery. Something needed to change. And it did.

Welcome!

Fall 2009--250 pounds

Summer 2017--148 pounds

If you're reading this, you've stumbled upon what I hope will be some sort of inspiration for even just one person out there. If I can help one, all the sweat, tears, injuries, pain, solitude, and anguish will have been worth it.

This is the story of a former fat kid, who at her heaviest was 250 pounds, how she took control, made drastic changes, lost over 100 pounds (and counting!), and is now on a quest to qualify for the Ironman World Championships in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii.

Shall we begin?