Buster Britton

A day like none other . . .

I was really excited to take this race on.

The cool sweat was rolling from my head and it is only 5:00 in the morning. My body is prepping my mind for what is to come. All night I tossed and turned in my Marriot Courtyard bed. When I woke for the third time of the night I realized I had pulled the sheets off the bed and I was sleeping directly on the mattress . . . GROSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

I was waking every 45 minutes from around 2:00am until it was time to rise at 4:45am. I’d roll, look at the bright red light lights that mocked me by saying, “ha ha! Made you look!” and it would only be 2:45am or 3:30am, and so on and then it hit me.

I was nervous!

It hadn’t hit me until then. I was worried about this race more than any other and unlike any other before this race. What was going on? The last three weeks I finished 2 Olympic Sized Triathlons in much worse heat than what was expected today. Why am I so nervous?

Rewind . . . June 12th, 2005.

My father in law Terry, Amanda, and I are in this same city, Pelham, Al. Just two weeks earlier I was in Birmingham for my FIRST EVER triathlon, tri-it-on triathlon. I was nervous that morning as well, but a different type of nervous. This morning I was worried about simply finishing this race. It was a long day, but when all was said and done, I finished and wrote the “Praying Mantis” blog entry that you can go back and read, it is really funny!.

03:11:12

Fast forward back to the present.

03:11:12 is why I am so dadgum nervous this morning and have been throughout the night. I have an immense amount of pressure on me and ONLY on me is what is so funny about this.

I am for the first time competing against ME!!!!!!!!!!!!

My little brother Thad and his wife Camille were waiting for me to arrive. I unloaded, checked in, which they really need to change their check in location, it is clear on the other side of the transition area and parking is a good (for me it was) ½ mile down the road.

I set up transition, which I am learning more and more about transitions and what works best for me.
As I line up to start the swim, this little inner competition thing starts to kick in again. I begin to calculate swim time, bike, run, and then I think about the course and where I had issues last year, then it is time for me to hit the water.

I felt great in the water, I was smooth and calm. Towards the end of the swim I did feel a little tired and I realized I was pushing myself a little too hard, BUT I HAD TO BEAT MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!

I came out of the water running.

I actually have found myself enjoying the spectator comments (amongst themselves thinking I don’t hear it or just caught off guard seeing this orca come out of the water and then start running!) I hear. There were a few surprised spectators as I waddled to my bike.

There was a friend I had on http://www.beginnertriathlete.com/ named Kristy. She is from the area of this race and I was looking forward to possibly fining her and sating hello. About 200 feet from my bike I see her coming up beside me in from water and I say, “Hi Kristy.” And that was that.

I took off on the bike, felt GREAT! I spanked the first 4 miles, averaged over 17 mph, then . . . Te hills of Oak “MOUNTAIN” Sate Park took their toll on me. The good news is this, last year I stopped several times AND walked up several hills.

NOT THIS YEAR BABY!!!!!!!!!! I did stop twice on the course, got my breath, let my heart rate settle down and finished each hill and the course ON MY BIKE!

In my head I began to trash talk my 2005 self.

“That’s right! Uh huh! I smoked you on the bike boyieeeeeeeee!” For some reason it is less gratuitous trash talking . . . Yourself.

Again, as I did on the Heatwave run course I made a commitment to run all shade and down hills shade or not. Last year I walked a majority of this run course. About mile 2 I was so excited. I thought I might beat my time last year by 1 FULL HOUR!!! WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!!

The problem there was, I had forgotten my race time form 2005. I thought it was 3:22 and as I glanced at my Garmin 305 I saw I had a great chance of crossing right about 2:22. I was one happy camper and all smiles as I crossed the finish in 02:21:11.

I pulled a Memphis In May finish again and ran right on through the finish and right into the lake . . . AHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

So I didn’t beat my time by a full hour, oh well.

Just means next year . . . SUB 2 Hour race!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks to everyone for your support. As you can see, I am improving and I am losing weight AND I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN DOING IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HEatwave Race Report

Heatwave and a little more . . .

I have put together a very ambitious race schedule this season. I am addicted. There are many aspects of what I am doing with triathlon that has me so addicted.

My weight loss is the most exciting. Putting on a pair of pants or a shirt which 12 months earlier wouldn’t come close to buttoning or fitting and today has room to move with in it, just makes me smile.

The sport itself and the completion of each race has me focused day in and day out.

But this week has been a new and wonderful experience with triathlon. As many of you know I began triathlon last year. This weekend, June 10th will be the Buster Britton Tri, which last year I also participated in that race.

http://www.team-magic.com/results/05bbov.htm

If you go back in my blog to June 2005 and read the praying mantis blog, this is that same race. I finished that race last year in 3:11:28.

This is where my new found excitement comes. This year I have a goal set to beat myself from last year!! WOO HOO! My goal is not only to beat myself, but take my time from last year and measure my improvement in the sport.

This year my goal is to finish this race in 2:11:28.

THAT’S RIGHT, I want to take a full hour off of my time. I am pumped!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wish me luck!

HEATWAVE TRI in Meridian Mississippi.

I will be really matter of fact about this race. The special moment for me in this race was seeing my Uncle there rooting me on. My Uncle, Uncle Bill, is very special to me in my life. He is basically a father to me. In my life he has been much more than an Uncle and I know that with some of the hell I put him through as a child and teenager, I was much more than JUST a nephew to him.

Seeing him there truly was the highlight of this race.

However, I must talk about the race and the director and the volunteers of this event. This is the best event I have participated in thus far in my short time racing.

Let’s talk about the swim. Great water, it was more like 1,000 in stead of 800, but I love to swim.

The 25 mile bike course is amazing. Rolling hills along the reservoir, shade, smooth road. Gatorade at the turn around, I mean awesome.

The run. I never look forward to putting my body through 6.2 miles of ground pounding running, but this course was the bomb! WOW! The first mile was hot, but breezy being by the water. Then the run goes into a trail, paved, that has 70% of it shaded. OH I WAS IN HEAVEN!!!!

NOW to the most impressive part.

The volunteers for this race were amazing. There was COLD water at each mile. Not water that they had dipped an hour earlier that was boiling because of the heat, but fresh cold H2O!!!!!

As you may have read in earlier posts, my pet peeve is when I am out on a race course and they the water stations just up and leave, or there is only one person there that doesn’t get up to help you out and just wants to go home.

HEATWAVE, no such issue. There were two of us, myself and a very nice woman, out on the course longer than most. The stations not only stayed open, but ALL of the volunteers waited until we had both passed AND they were full of energy and ready to help in anyway that they could. THANK YOU!!!!!

THANK YOU!!!!

I finished more than 35 minutes faster than I did in the Memphis in May Olympic Tri. I attribute that to, starting earlier, wave starts, and the awesome water stations helping me with the heat and staying hydrated.

If you do triathlons, you should do this race. From top to bottom, swim, bike, run course, volunteers, organization, etc. I don’t think I will find another race better than HEATWAVE.

Thanks for your support. I am doing it!!!!!!!!

Heatwave Classic - Meridian MS

I am all over the Sate this week, very busy.

I had an awesome race and this venue is the best I have raced in thus far in my short career as a triathlete. i reccomend anyone try it.

Enjoy the pics and I will post report later this week.

Thanks to everyone.

Memphis In May Pictures

I'm out there somewhere!

Ah, I love the swim! Too bad it's over.

Reglators! Mount Up!!

I'll be back in 24 miles!

How does that poor bike hold me up!!???

I think I can, I think I can, I . . . MAN IT'S HOT!!!

Who is that WAY back there? It's ME!

Whew!

My friend Lane in the white visor. At this moment, I

Didn't know he was yelling my name!

Sitting with family after a long, hard, HOT race.

MEMPHIS IN MAY - OLYMPIC TRI

I want to put on a triathlon for ONLY fat people . . .

I realize it must be one heck of a job to be a race director for a triathlon, especially the size of the one I did today.

Let’s begin anew . . . I don’t want to discourage anyone who reads this post away from this sport and lifestyle by the following rant. Please read, because I have some great stuff in this one too.

Overall, I loved my day today. I think this was a great race venue and a heck of a lot of fun. I would recommend this Olympic Triathlon to ANYONE who is considering taking on the challenge. The first thing that just made my day . . . THEY HAD A 4XL SHIRT FOR ME!!!!!!!!! Are you kidding me!!!??? I have a stack of race t-shirts stacked away to wear one day when I am skinny. But I have NONE to wear currently, until now! I am so happy. I might wear it for a month, straight!

My family and I swung by the race site the day before ad met up with Vanilla and his family and we set up the tents and chatted a while. Had lunch and I began my ritual of getting ready for the race; packing the bag, lube the chain, talk to myself about the day to come, all that good stuff. I was going to take a quick nap and head downtown to see my Sister and then eat dinner with some friends.

I did none of that.

I woke form my nap at about 9:30pm, looked around at the unfamiliar place called a hotel room, which I forgot I was there and then turned off the TV and went back to sleep. Sorry friends and family.

The alarm went off at 4:15am and I was up and ready, not really. I heated up some omega oat waffles in the microwave, and jumped in the shower. Loaded up and I was off.

I forgot to mention. I fell asleep on the toilet and woke up 45 minutes later with numb buttocks (es), TMI I know, but it had to be told.

I wanted to arrive at the race site about 5:45am and actually arrived about 6:30 am. Unloaded and went to transition to set up.

WOW.

It was like a sea of bikes. Grace, my lil sis said it looked like a junkyard. After I thought about is for a while, she was right.

Then I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And . . . You get the point.

Here is rant #1 of 2.
I am fat, I am not a Clydesdale, but a fatsdale. However I see, and I love it, a few folk out there giving it their all and they are more than Clydesdale or Athena. Crap I am 2 Clydesdales.

Here is what I don’t understand. I have done like 13 or 14 triathlons and a couple duathlons. The people who finish with me or just a head of me are usually bigger folk. Now, to their credit they usually aren’t biggun’s like me, but as my beautiful wife so affectionately puts it (and I hate it) fluffy.

For the Sprint tri’s I get a little peeved when this happens, but today I was absolutely fired up! This was an individual start with Pros first, RELAY second, age groupers third and Clydesdale’s and Athena’s LAST.

DID YOU NOTICE R-E-L-A-Y SECOND???????!!!!!!!!! These guys only do one of the three sports, either the swimming, biking, or running, THEY DON’T EVEN DO THE WHOLE THING!!!!!!!!!!!

Now I am speaking on this from a purely safety and insurance platform. Also there is the personal, I felt like I was gonna die today part of it too.

Why would you send the slowest people out last? I can understand sending the Pros out first, common sense, but why send out the biggest people, let me rephrase since I have a couple friends who are Clydesdales who kick everyone’s tail, but why put the group that has some of the folks who will be slow last to start.

What happens as the day goes on? The sun comes out, it gets hot and people, ok not people, I, ME almost die!!!! OK, not really, but go with the effect here.

Also, the people who work the water stations, I have more on THAT in rant #2, are volunteers. Why would you want these poor people out there SO LONG giving some fat ass (I AM SO SORRY TO CURSE< BUT I AM PISSED) like me water when the sun is beating down and they would much rather be doing something else with their time?

Why would a race director who pays a boat load in insurance to run these events want to risk having someone out on the course so long? I know there are ½ Ironman and Ironman races where people are out ALL day, but why make it worse when you can make it better and smarter?

OK, rant #1 is done.

I get in line and I am OFF for my swim. I felt great today in the water. Some guy on the run, as he passed me, told me he was trying to pace me, but he couldn’t keep up. That really made me feel good. The swim was uneventful, but FUN!!!

I cam out of the water and began getting suited up for the bike. I was exhausted for some reason. I am never tired out of the water, but today was a different story. I walked to the mount area and almost fell over. I took a moment, cleared my head, looked around at all of the people and realized, there is no way I can clip in and fall over with this many people watching. I took another deep breath and cleared my head again, clipped in and . . . DIDN’T FALL! Wo Hoo!

The bike course. Very uneventful again, but very windy at some points. The other thing that was actually funny to me on the course was when I was chugging up ONE of these hills and the wind was head on, I thought back to the MIM website description of the course. They have it listed as flat. I chuckled and realized how we all think of things geographically. In Louisiana, this was hilly!!!!!!!!!!!

My max speed was 34mph. My min speed was 8.

I came in on the bike, walked slowly to my rack. I will tell you that that was the longest walk. The sun was blazing, I was dead tired and I think I chose to quit about three times before I made it to my rack, but my body wouldn’t listen, stupid body!

As I exited the transition I saw Vanilla (Charles), oh how I envied him, he was done, ready to relax, have a beer, and eat some BBQ. I spurted out something like, “I’m never doing this race again!” He looked at me confused. I didn’t mean it, well, I did at the time, but this was a great race and I will do it again, especially if they take my suggestions and tinker with a few things.

I walked. It was all I could do to walk. My hip hurt, my legs were cramping, did I mention it was blistering hot? After mile 3 I decided to quit again. And I did.

I said that I had enough of this crap and I quit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was talking to myself, cursing, spitting, gnashing of my teeth, I was DONE! All I had to do was walk back to the finish line!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really did quit, but I had to get back?

As I passed the 4 mile mark I was so excited because I knew there was one of those GREAT water stations there. The previous ones were my savior and this one was the most needed one yet!

I make the turn and see the . . . The . . .

There is no one there, wait I see the truck is still there, but where did the people go? There are three more people behind me, I thought to myself, then right back to me selfishly, WHERE ARE THE WATER PEOPLE!!!!! MY SAVIORS!!!!!!

Rant #2

I get up to the station and there IS A GUY THERE!!!!! Oh thank goodness!

He is sitting on the back of his truck, not happy to be there and not moving an inch. I say hello, he nods. He is then talking on a hand held radio about how many people are left and how much longer does he have to wait. I am looking for water.

I see lots of Gatorade, no water. My stomach could not handle anymore Gatorade. I look back at him, he’s not looking at me. I look in one of the two coolers, nothing, I look in the other, nothing, I grab a Gatorade, throw it back and that was the second most disgusting this I have ever had in my mouth. Number one was spoiled milk. HOT, I mean H-O-T HOT Gatorade.

I took some down and spit out what I couldn’t get down. I looked back at the guy again, he is busy. I walk off cursing, AGAIN! It was a theme today.

I get to about mile 5 and a poor guy pulls up beside me in a truck and asks if I am ok. Now, I have had no water in blistering heat and I am two steps from passing out. I ask him, are you a race person, he says yes, I UNLOAD ON THE POOR GUY. He kindly says he will go get me some water. He does. HOT BOTTLED WATER! But it was better than nothing. I thanked him over and over since I felt bad for unloading on him.

Rant #2, complete.

I made it to mile 5 and the water station was again unmanned, but they left me a nice big cooler, bucket of COLD water. I tell you, I almost dove in it, but I wouldn’t have fit and I might have drowned, so I just poured cup after cup after cup on me. AHHHHHHHH!

The last mile.

My poor sister and Mom Daudet. This is the second time she has seen my wrath at a race. I am so irritable and today was even worse. They waited in that heat at mile 5 to walk me in. What did I do? Yelled at them to go to the finish line! I felt bad. I get so deflated when someone walks me in. it is a personal stupid thing, I need to work on that.

I CROSS THE FINISH LINE, even though I quit a few miles back. After 6.2 miles in the heat and sun, the pavement throwing the heat in my face, I walked right into the lake. Clothes, shoes, everything, right into the lake.

It was the best feeling. Cold, wavy, oh I was in my little piece of heaven.

My friend Lane was trying to say hello to me, but I was having none of it at that moment, but after a while I said hello and met some other folks from BT.

Dwight, Janet, and Robin all helped bring my stuff back to the truck, he sat and chatted up and I ate some of Dwight’s famous chicken and potato salad.

Grace and I came back to my hotel where I have been cramping and puking for about 3 hours. I figured I would write this to get my mind off of it.
It was a great race and I will do it again. Thanks to everyone for your words of support and kindness.

Until Heatwave!

Pre MIM

Fear . . . Not sure how I feel about it right now

As I sit in my roach motel of a room ere in Millington Ten. I am scared to death at what lay ahead of me tomorrow. Memphis In May Triathlon, and Olympic sized tri; 1.5k swim, 40k bike, and 10k run.

I went to the race site this morning with my Mom Daudet and My Dad Jerry. We parked, located where we would put the tent shelters and went to registration. As we were walking there we saw Vanilla and his family form BRtri. I hope when I have children one day I can make racing a family event s they do. We chatted a bit and off I went to register.

It was about 10:00am and already the humidity and heat were kicking in. I would be finishing the bike about this time tomorrow, I thought to myself. Whew.

I picked up my race kit and t-shirt. Walked around a bit and headed back to the truck. I began to panic a little. This will be the longest race by far that I have done. I am actually in a state of panic!

My lower back has been hurting now for about two weeks and getting worse in the bed at this motel. I am worried about the humidity; I don’t do so well with humidity. Heat is ok, humidity, not so much.

I am sitting in my air-conditioned motel room and my mind is going a million miles an hour. What if . . . What if?

When I am done with this tangent I will lay on the bed and visualize the race and see myself finishing with a smile.

I am so happy that so many of my family are here.

Until tomorrow . . . Happy thoughts!

Tri-ing Fat Man: Tri-ing Fat Man: FINAL REVISED RACE SCHEDULE 2006

Tri-ing Fat Man: Tri-ing Fat Man: FINAL REVISED RACE SCHEDULE 2006

Happy Food Times!

(This is not my Grandma, but she is "representing"!!!!)






Oh Happy Days!!!!!!

I was young, between 7 and 12, riding on a hot Trailways bus full of strangers who snored and smoked as I traveled from Memphis Tennessee, where I lived during the school years as a child, to Winona Mississippi.

This was always the most exciting time of each year for me.

My childhood memories are sketchy at best and non-existent mostly. However, there is one person and one piece of my life that is seared into my soul and my heart.

Tama Boyce Lee.

My Grandma, the single most special person in my life. You see, I knew this would be soul searching when I set out on this quest to understand m relationship with food, I am beginning to cry as I am writing this since my love for my Grandma is immeasurable and I miss her so much even though it has been over 17 years since her death.

Two! Three! Oh man! I would become so excited to go see Grandma. “How many weeks can I go?” I would ask my Dad, “Two, three weeks?” The answer never mattered, just the fact that I was going was enough.

Unconditional love to me is rare and when tested . . . It becomes not so “unconditional”. But, let me tell you about testing! I was the master tester. I was an adventurous little boy, afraid of nothing and getting into everything.

Her poor home. It was my battle ground. Many a cowboy and Indian battle was fought there with vengeance! The SAP tree in her front yard sent many an outfit to the garbage and the creek on the other side of the tennis courts beside her home, well let’s say I know every turn as do the many shoes that were sacrificed to that dirty ditch.

I could go on and on about the joy that I felt when I was with my Grandma. Her absence . . . Here I go with the tears again. Her absence in my life . . . It is large. I will probably share more in later rambling about her, however onto the reason . . .

When I would talk to Grandma on the phone before coming down to Winona, she would ask me, “Baby, what do you want to eat when you’re here?” Oh man!!!!!! She could cook! AND I COULD EAT!!! I would ask for fried chicken, that steak that has the bone in the middle that looks like a T, mashed potatoes, butter beans with mayonnaise on the side, like my Uncle Bill likes them, corn casserole, biscuits, corn bread, oh her cornbread! Pie, apple pie, peach pie, oh, meringue!!!!! Forget the apple and peach, I want lemon or coconut! Don’t forget root beer!

Remember, I would go and stay with her for two or three weeks. One would think that my beautiful grandma would prepare my requests throughout the week or weeks, NOOOOOOO! Woo Hoo! I would get off of the bus, we would go home and there it was! Everything I requested over the phone, and more!
I would sit at the dinner table eating all of this wonderful homemade food, while staring across the kitchen at the pies on her counter. The smells, oh the beautiful aroma of her cooking would just float around her whole house.

There is no doubt in my mind that my Grandma spent DAYS preparing this feast for me. And she was in her 70’s when doing this for me, meaning, she was no spring chicken, but she could sure fry some chicken!

All of this for me.

I was special to her. I know I was special to my Momma, my Dad, my Mom, my Papa Edu, but I was really special to Grandma. Or at least she made sure I felt as though I was the MOST special thing in her life.

I was her little baby and she was my life.

That alone is my most special memory of, me and food. I agree it wasn’t a productive one and may be a big key to my difficulties with food today and I am realizing a bit of that as I write. I will explore this realization more, but it truly was one of my happiest experiences with food.

To my Grandma,

I know you’re in Heaven. I know you look over me. I know you are crying with me right now.

I love you so dearly and I miss you so much. I wish you could hold me just one more time. Rub my belly or kiss my head. I never knew there would be such a void in my life when you went away. When you were alive, I hope you knew how much I loved you.

Look after my friend Carlie up there and know I am the man I am today because of your love and belief in me.

Your baby,
Christopher

Crawfish Man Triathlon

If it’s Broke, Duct Tape it . . .

Men are awesome and I say that on a purely plutonic level. We are so predictable and even more, when we find something that works, we use it . . . For everything.

That was why I became so excited after reading Triathlete Magazines’ article on keeping your skin safe before, during, and after a race or training.

As many of you who follow my blog, I was the proud recipient of three vicious blisters on my left foot compliments of the Crescent City Classic 10k a few weeks past. They were and have been so nasty and very painful. I would blame my loss to my friend Mike Pate on the blisters at our last race, but that would not be the truth, he just beat me, period.

As I am reading this article in Triathlete Magazine while in the home Library, I laugh out loud. Amanda sticks her head in the Library and asks what was so funny. I told her that this article suggests using Duct Tape on your blisters during a race or training to prevent them from becoming worse. A man had to have come up with this remedy. Only a man, if I am wrong, I apologize in advance.

I flushed the toilet and left the bath . . . Library, then . . .

I began to plot and prod my foot for the best way to Duct Tape myself to a pain-less race for the Crawfishman Tri, a 1,200 swim, 20m bike, and 4 mi run, my longest race to date. Brent, my best friend and I, we watch Myth Busters every once and a while, we decided to try and bust this myth. Brent put tape on his hand, put it under water, began to rub vigorously and it held up. Myth – plausible.

I awoke at 4:45am. Took my pre-race shower, slapped on the body glide, loaded up the bike and headed off to the Crawfishman!

Prior to my departure I strategically placed my Duct Tape, one long ways on the ridge of my foot to cover the big momma of the blisters, one across the front padding of my foot to cover the second blister, and the last across my Achilles Tendon area and I was off to see, will our Myth be Confirmed. I sure hoped so!

I assumed the race site would be somewhere about, 55 minutes away. It was about and hour and a half. I arrived at 7:03am. Rushed to the check-in. Racked my bike. Set up my transition. RAN to the swim start.

I forgot that I had my money clip and vehicle keyless entry shoved under my tri shorts. The race start was literally in seconds. I saw a fellow tri-club and friends’ wife at the swim start. She was kind enough to hold my items for me.

I hit the water and maybe 30 seconds after I did, the race director started the race, and I was off!

I felt great during the swim, slow, but great. I was passing no one, but no one was passing me until the end when the second group leaders passed by.

I am becoming more proficient at my transitions. This is a simple part of the race that you can really improve by simply preparing better. Preparing better with your gear, but also be more prepared in your mind. It takes nothing physical to do better.

The bike was the most challenging on any bike course that I had raced in, in the state of Louisiana. It wasn’t really bad, but it had a couple hills for us. I actually didn’t mind however, and I am looking forward to seeing the splits. Last year my average bike pace was right at 11.7 mph. This year my goal was to average over 15 mph. I am doing this so far. I am happy about that.

I passed like 3 people and was passed by probably 50!!!!! I have to figure out this bike thing, the last three races, I have crushed the last few miles of each race. I get this boost of energy. I start hammering? I wonder if it is just the excitement of being finished?

I roll into the transition area, feeling pretty good.

I actually amazed myself. I walked out of transition, drank two cups of water, and once I hit the road, I began running. Again, let me clarify, my running is like a slow persons walking. But, I was doing MY running. I began and I never stopped.

I would pass through a water station and keep going. I have no idea what was going on with me? There was a little drizzling rain, but nothing too bad. The run course had its share of hills as well. I would run past a racer heading back in and a few would walk the hills. It was difficult, but I never stopped. I felt like Forrest Gump, I was just RUNNING!

My goal for today’s race was 3:15:00. My last race at LATri, which was 800, swim, 18 mi bike, and 3.1 mi run, I finished in 02:38:00 something or other. So I figured, 400 m more on the swim, 10 minutes, 2 miles more on the bike, 8 minutes, 1 mile more on the run 15 minutes. That is 43 minutes total. So I figured 3:10:00 would be good, but I knew I would do 03:15:00, I chose to beat 03:15:00.

As I crossed the finish line to cheers of volunteers, I glanced at the time clock. 02:54:ish.

WOW!

I beat my goal, but more than that, this course was much more challenging than LA TRI and this race time was a mere, 17 minutes longer!!!!!!

Bottom Line . . . I am very happy about my race today.

I met Tri-It-Cajun-Style and her husband from Beginner Triathlete website. She was awesome! She helped me to my car, since I was stumbling around a bit.

I finally make it to my vehicle and realize that the keyless entry that was returned to me by my friend’s wife, it was no longer shoved in my tri shorts. It fell out!!!! After stumbling around some more looking for it along my path, I found it and began to load the truck.

Then I remember.

THE DUCT TAPE!!!!!

As I shove my left shoe off, I see a tiny bit of blood on my sock at the Achilles tendon. I began to de-bunk the Blister Myth. Then I noticed this was a NEW blister just above the other. The Duct tape on my heel was still in place.

The true test however was to come. As my sock slid down and off my foot, nothing! Nothing! I gently pulled off the tape and to my astonishment, the skin was hardly wet. No blood, no re-opening, nothing.

Duct Tape on Blisters to prevent your blisters form getting worse during a triathlon . . . Confirmed!

My next race, Memphis in May. May 21st. My family will be there. I am so excited.

Today was my longest race to date, however Memphis in May, MIM as I call it, will be my first Olympic Triathlon. I am scared, but excited after today.

Thanks to all for your support. You rock! But more than that, you help to keep me motivated.

To Train or . . . Not.

Training and Then again, Not . . .

I have had an incredible time training since my last race (LA Tri) and I am not sure why. My body was beaten up in that race.

Let’s recap the abuse:

I re-opened two blisters from the CCC 10k the week prior. Now these weren’t your typical little blisters.

a. Blister #1. Located on the insole of my left foot. Nearly one inch in diameter and strategically positioned to cause deep discomfort with each step taken.

b. Blister #2, code named, One Big Muther!!!! Over one inch in diameter and possibly the deepest blister I have seen ever in my lifetime. Located on my outer sole of the left foot.


c. Last, Blister #3. The icky sticky, tricky pesky blister. Located on the heel of my left foot, where the shoe rubs and makes delightful friction tunes of melodies gone by.

I also . . . This is so disgusting. I have obtained and little cyst on my inner right leg, closer to my buttocks. UMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! Who’s ready for dinner! It is not inflamed yet and at the time of this race was only a nuisance as it is now a bother.

During the race I re-aggravated my left calf and the constant cramping feeling is back after many weeks of its joyful absence. It is so annoying to sit there stretching it ALL DAY LONG. But, that is all that gives it relief.

After the race I upchucked about 6 times and my stomach hasn’t been the same since.

My running shoe, after the race, looked like the site of a murder scene. The entire shoe was bloody form the blisters, then turned creators of the deep and beyond in my shoe.

Now.

Since then I have been sitting around thinking of ways to get around training. I have created every possible opportunity NOT TO TRAIN.

Did you know, I cleaned my house last week? YES! Shut up! I know!!!!!!!!

The means I will go to in order not to train is intense. I considered watching a girly TV show with my wife the other day, in stead of running. I know, this is extreme. I may need, INTERVENTION!

INTERVENTION!!!!!!!!

Tonight I will train.

Or read War and Peace again.

A begining to my childhood

I am spending a few weeks digging into my young life. Trying to find some click to my relationship with food. Then I will spend time looking at my teen life and young adult life.
Some may think I am crazy putting this all out on a blog for the world to see. I say it is the only way I can be honest with myself. That may seem weird to say, but I tend to sugar coat things in life and let mishaps slide off my shoulder, it takes a lot to upset me. I tend to look at the good in everything and not at the hurtful or indifferent issues in life.
I don't want to put up a battered child, feel sorry for me monologue. I want no one else to be hurt by my writings, but I need to be honest about my past so I can fix the future. I won't do that by keeping a journal or diary of thoughts. I will when I am held accountable by my writings and knowing that those who know me and have known me in my life can discern reality versus my perception.
It is going to be difficult to put all of this out there.
Everyone has had bad experiences in their lives.
I don't want this to be a pity party and I especially don't want to hurt my family, Momma and Dad, when it comes to my revelations and mental digging into my past, but at the same time I want to be honest FOR myself.
My Momma, who is a brilliant woman and has the kindest, sweetest heart, says to me on a regular basis that the past is the past. She says I have to stop dwelling on all of the bad things that happened to me in my life. I agree. However, this is not dwelling. What you will read over the few months is interpreting my past, trying to understand my past.
My past is a blur to me. I remember little of my childhood and less of my teen-hood. This is a problem for me.
I have friends who hold dear memories of their child hood experiences and friends and family. I wish I had those, but I am not bitter, I am not dwelling and I won’t be dwelling in the upcoming posts. I will be digging. I will be telling my story. I want to correlate my relationship with food in a way that I might realize why I am the way I am.
Here is a quote from a dear friend of mine. I think it is important for all of us to realize that we each have our on vices. Mine is food and compulsion. Someone else’s crutch may be alcohol. Another’s may be confidence and self worth. Here is how my friend put it. For me, food has never been a problem issue. But, there is no man who doesn't have some issue, whether he realizes it or admits it or not, that is comparable for them what the food issue is for you. What's one man's food issue, is another man's obsession with gaining people's approval, or another man's struggle with relationship intimacy, or yet another man's drive toward defining himself through monetary success.

I want everyone to understand before I begin this process, that I am not pointing fingers at anyone else for my issues. I am the only one who “allowed” them to happen and I feel I am the only one who can recreate this relationship with food.

Many of you are probably much stronger than I am with your vices. You may have been a smoker, as I was 12 years ago, and stopped cold turkey, as I did. You may have had issues with your appearance that you simply fixed. I am happy and so proud of you for that.

I think I need this investigation. My mind is a knowledge sponge. I have to know the ins and outs of everything.

I am not satisfied with something until I know how it works, what makes it tick. I think that is why I disassembled all of my Christmas presents as a child.

The problem there too was that I didn’t know how to put them back together after I figured out how they worked. Funny.

I am going to figure out what makes me tick when it comes to food. I am going to put it back together.

Thanks everyone for your comments and thoughts on my blog.

Enjoy the ride. You can judge me, my family, and my thoughts if you want, but remember, we all have our issues.

After the race I was disappointed . . . Now I am grateful.

After the race I was disappointed . . . Now I am grateful.

There are many things I could write to you about concerning this race today. I beat some personal records; I have never felt better before a race. I finished 22 minutes under my goal time. I was beaten AGAIN by my friend Mike Pate, but after I took time to actually think about that disappointment of letting down my team of Brian (hope you feel better soon brother) and Vanilla, and just not being able to step it up mentally, I came to a real peace in my soul. That sounds a little deep. Insightful! Dramatic! It’s not. It’s really simple.

I am grateful. I am grateful to my friend Mike Pate. I am thankful to Bamaboy, and DonC. I am truly thankful to Konaboy, and Vanilla. I am thankful to God. I am grateful to all of my new friends who keep me motivated when I want to stop, lie down, and take a nap.

I am grateful to my new, but so awesome friends who I hope to become closer with, Brandy and John. I am grateful to Big D. I love that woman! I will tell more later! I am grateful to ALL of my BRtri club fiends and their family and their friends that push me along.

I am so grateful to m beautiful wife, Amanda. She questions me at times, but supports me unconditionally. My family and I could go on and on and individually point out so many of you who have made me truly grateful to participate in this wonderful sport we call triathlon.

The race, named Louisiana Tri and New Roads. 800m swim, but I think as do others it was a teeny bit longer, by maybe 200m. Then to an 18.5 mile bike and caped off with a little 5k.

I will take you through the night prior to the race since it is truly entertaining, then the race it ‘self.

Amanda and I are stuck in Atlanta GA. Sitting in a little sardine airplane, packed with people, crying babies, and one mother of a storm front on top of us. Our flight had been delayed for over an hour as we let the worst of the storm pass over. The worst of it, mind you.

Finally, cleared for take off, we head of into the wild blue . . . Scratch that, we head off into the clouded, thunder and lightning, raining black yonder. I have flown in just about every situation imaginable, Amanda however . . . Not so much. I felt really bad for the children, this flight was going to put a scar on them for life when it comes to flying.

The pilot seemed to want to hurry through the front as quickly as possible, until he hit a massive, I mean massive pocket and if it wasn’t bolted down, it went flying. Water bottles, magazines, baby bottle, glasses, it was nasty. This continued for another 20 minutes, not as bad as the first drop, but bad.
After while we headed north to get around it and we had a lot of clean air, but then was THE mother of the night. It wasn’t as bad as the first jolt, however the pilot had briefly turned off the fasten seatbelt sign. I think it was to let the many who were quite sick, go to the bathroom. However, I am sure that after one lady was sprawled out on the floor and one guy hit his head on the compartment above, he regretted that decision. The sign cam right back on.

Finally we land in Baton Rouge at around 1:30ish in the morning. We were supposed to land at 11:40ish. Amanda, well, let’s just say that she may not fly for a few weeks after that little voyage. We get our bags and off to the SUPER WAL-MART, MART, Mart, MART . . .

Closed.

I was responsible to 3 boils for our club crawfish party we were having after the race. I was in Phoenix ALL week at a conference. Amanda and I had it all planned, she would go get the produce off of the list, I would get the spices and meats, READY . . . Closed.

I thought the SUPER meant 24 hour. I, was wrong.

We get home unpack and then I re-pack my dirty vehicle with table, and other crawfish gear, then my tri gear. I kiss my wife good-night and I am snoring before the pillow meets my head.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

What in the world, went through my head. It was my alarm. Crap, I thought, I must have set it wrong, and I just got to sleep. I put o the glasses, and went to set my wake-up time correctly, for 5:10AM. I grab my clock, look for the button to set the alarm and I se that my clock says . . . 5:10AM.

Oh Boy. I jump in the shower. Load my bike, drive to SUPER Wal-Mart. It is a quarter to 6:00AM/. Wal-Mart opens at 6:00AM. I am thinking, be there, the door opens, you’re in and out! Not so. Let me tell you about Wal-Mart at 6:00AM. One word, BOXES. There were boxes everywhere. People! People everywhere, unloading boxes, everywhere! I would slither and for a guy my size it is quite difficult to “slither”, down one isle to be blocked at another. Cart, don’t even try it. I would leave my cart at the end of the isle, go get stuff and run it back. I had fun.

In my truck by 6:35AM and I am off!

I get to the race site at 7:20AM. I check in. Once again, the only T-Shirt they have is a Large this time. Talk about motivation to lose weight, it is all of these XL and Large T-shirts I have in my tri shirt drawer!

I set up the transition site get Brandy to fix my AWESOME Garmin 305 and I begin to do the race in my head. In my head I was quite successful.

We get on the starting line for the swim. Mike and I are joking around and chatting. The gun goes off and both Mike and me . . . I am laughing out loud at this right now, we BOTH slip on the algae covered boat ramp and fall butt first onto the ramp, in the water.

The reason this is so funny to me is this. I realize there are folks there as spectators and fans that see Mike and I and think to themselves, initially, “What in the world are those fat guys doing out there?” So in my mind, what better way to solidify their lingering question than for BOTH of us to fall flat on our butts into the water at the SAME time!!!!

The swim was leisurely. I felt ok, but knew I needed to pick it up to pace Mike, he is a good swimmer, not by fat guy standards either. Problem was, every time I tried to pick up my pace I would get out of good swimming motion. I would actually slow down and get out of rhythm. I need to work more on my swim technique. I see the end and reach the same boat ramp I fell on. I was determined not to do this again. I didn’t.

As I entered the transition I saw Mike, he was heading out on the bike. He was going to be a good 4 or 5 minutes ahead of me by the time I got out on the bike. As I exited the transition I jumped on my bike and clipped into the pedal and cranked down one only to jerk the chain right off of the rear cogs. CRAP! I jumped off, linked in back on and off I went. I made a pact with myself to win this race on the bike. I wanted to catch Mike as we were coming in on the bike into transition and stay with him on the run. I was cranking on the bike. I was being passed by a few folk, but I was also passing folks too.

I saw Mike at the turn around and knew I was only about 3 miles behind at the most. I began to crank harder. I felt pretty good. My right calf, the one that always cramps, began to do so at about mile 14. I rode the rest of the bike with a cramp. I zoomed into the transition. As I entered and racked my bike, Mike was leaving the transition. I didn’t make up the time I wanted to. But I transitioned quickly for me and took off.

As you leave transition they have water and Gatorade there for you. I grabbed some and started up this ridiculous hill that was sick to have to do right after you jump off your bike. I cramped a little more, but shook it off. I could see Mike about 300 yards ahead, he stayed 300 yards ahead the first mile and a half.

If I had on complaint about this race, it was the lack of water stations. There was only one on the run course. I went through it watered up and began to crank it on the run. I was catching up. I think by the time we entered the park towards the end I was around 150 yards behind. Then the physical and mental drop of the ball happened.

As many of you read, I ran the CCC last weekend. You can read that post below. During this race I formed 3 massive blisters on my left foot, two on the sole and one on my heel. At this point they hadn’t been a problem. Now, they were. The largest blister opened up on my sole. It was hurting bad, but not so bad that I couldn’t keep the pace I was running. Then, the blister on my heel came wide open. This was the part where physically I was losing it. As we entered the park, I could still see I was gaining on Mike and then, my mental block.

This really sucked for me. Once we got into the park I thought we were really near the finish line. I could see Mike rounding the corner to what I thought was the finish. Here I let my mental focus go and began to slow down from the pain, thinking he was about to cross the finish.

Problem was, he was no where near the finish, but I didn’t know that. I began walking. Then I see Mike coming towards me. I am thinking he is coming to cheer me in, but he is across this little spillway. Then I realize, we have a ways to go!

Here is where my biggest disappointment of the day came. I tried and tried to make my legs go. They wouldn’t. Mike had one of his team mates who went back and ran with him to motivate him. I just tried to get my legs to move, but the pain in my left foot was too much. I gave up and I am disappointed in me for that.

Mile crossed about 4 or 5 minutes before me. One of the BRtri club members, a real nice guy I see at every race, but have yet to remember his name and I feel horrible for that since he has always been so awesome to me, he came back and ran the last ½ mile with me, then Big D and another BRtri’er came back too.

As I was dying, Big D asked if I wanted her t sing to me. I think I was a little rude, but I could only get out, “NO.” She laughed. Big D is such an awesome person. She is kind, motivating, and genuine. Those are hard traits to pack into one person, not to mention she is a kick butt triathlete! I finally crossed the finish and mike and I congratulated one another with high 5’s and hugs. I began drinking massive amounts of water and Gatorade that people were giving me. WHERE WAS THIS ON THE COURSE!

Mike stayed with me for a good while. I think he saw I was losing it mentally. These races take a lot out of you mentally as well. We walked about 100 yards and I began to fire hose puke. I am not sure how many times, but it was enough to put out a small forest fire, I think.

As I calmed down and caught my bearings, Mike and I chatted with a few folks and I sat down on a cooler. I know I look like crap after a race, but today I think I looked even worse than normal. What a sight for sore eyes.

After loading up my truck and saying goodbye to my friends, Brandy and John, I climbed nimbly into my truck and said my thanks to the Big Man upstairs and drove to the crawfish party.

I was dead tired, but excited to boil crawfish for everyone. We had the party at Clay’s family’s camp right there on the False river which was also where the swim of the race was.
Clay and his family are wonderful. They are always so welcoming to us when we come out to swim and today they turned their camp over to us as we had one heck of a festival.

We boiled and ate many a good crawfish. Drank beer and had fun with our group, while children fed dogs and adults fed their faces. Thank you Clay and thank your generous family for us as well.

I am thankful. Mike, Bama, DonC. Vanilla, Konaboy. I have races harder and faster than I thought I could, because you guys have helped me in creating this competition. While I know I am not much to compete against at 375 pounds, it is the idea of the competition and doing my best, then some, that has me indebted and grateful to you guys.

I am losing weight and having fun doing it.

Thank you to all those who support me through this blog, your emails and posts are so inspiring and helpful.

Until next time!

Tri-ing Fat Man: FINAL REVISED RACE SCHEDULE 2006

Tri-ing Fat Man: FINAL REVISED RACE SCHEDULE 2006

My IT Band was about to POP!

Longest Run since 1991!!!!!

Many of you may not be aware, but I was in the military for 4 years. I served in
Ft. Benning GA for 3 years and Camp Casey Korea for one year. I was with an elite unit for many of those years. I would never trade that experience for anything. The friends I made and the years I grew from that experience I am unable to put into words.

What I can put into words is the physical health I was in from 1987 to 1991. I entered The US Army Infantry Basic Training at about 235 lbs.

I was 17 and strong. I was a bad ass and wanted everyone to know it. I grew up in unique environments. I went to a different school every year of my life but two. I am better for it, I personally think. I had to prove myself at each institution of learning. By 3rd grade I just knew I was going to have to enter class, find out the toughest kid and be prepared to fight him and others because I was the outsider. Then in 7th and most of 8th grade I became the ultimate outsider.

I know some of you may disagree with my ideas on life, but that is ok and I welcome it. However, everyone should know, I hate racism and despise bigotry. I will call you on a black joke if you tell it to me, not if you’re saying it in a group, I don’t thin that is respectful of you. I have individuals of color who are family. However, I also respect anyone’s right to their own thoughts and ideas. I also have family that has extreme differing opinions about these topics from me and I love them for it. This is the USA.

With that being said, for 7th and most of 8th grade I attended Colton Jr. High in New Orleans LA. Colton is located o St. Claude Ave. past Elysian Fields. I was living with my Momma, Henrietta and my Papa, Edu. Colton was in the 9th ward. Most of you know now, because of Katrina, that the 9th Ward is the lower class area of New Orleans. I was one of 4 non-blacks in the school. There was a Jewish kid and two Hispanic kids, and me. At the time a blue eyed, sandy blonde haired kid. I fought EVERY day of school for the first few months. I was cut by knives, razor blades, and beaten up by groups of 5 and 6. I could fight and I could fight well. I have a large tolerance for pain and it came in handy at this time of my lie.

I know, you want to ask the same questions EVERYONE does when I talk about this. “Where were the teachers?”. They were teaching. These fights were between classes in the stair wells, or the bathrooms, until I stopped going into them for a while. After school was the worst. I knew if I had pissed someone off that day, there was going to be a gauntlet of boys outside that I had to get through to get home. Let’s say I was tough as nails with a 4 lb. chip on my shoulder.

Why am I telling this story on my tri blog site? Good question, because it tells you more about me and my experiences in life that have brought me to where I am right now as I type into this computer.

Some may say that if I was treated so horribly by so many black kids, why am I not angry or even prejudice against them? Because the second part of this story is so beautiful.

As the months went by and the fights continued on, I never missed a day of school. I went back every morning expecting the worse and at times that was granted. After a while there were students that stood up for me. At first those that stood up for me would let the initial fight go on, but not let others jump in on me. That leveled the playing field and less people wanted to fight me one on one. Then before my 7th grade year ended I had a slew of friends that literally protected me and didn’t let anyone mess with me.

I wish I knew where they were now. I stayed in touch with several of my friends from Colton. Some actually worked where my Momma, Henrietta worked at Pat O’Briens, home of the Hurricane. But, as years drag on, I lost touch with the very special friends I had. I hope and pray they are ok and safe after Katrina.

All of that for this . . .

When I joined the service, I still had that 4 lb. chip on my shoulder. I was still the toughest guy on the block, so I thought. Then I ran into a few guys that changed my life and my idea of myself as being one bad mutha. They kicked my ass for months on end and broke me down into a little wuss and then built me up into a man. I will never forget Drill Sergeant Wolf, Simms, and Brinkly.

The other thing I learned form them, how to fly! I was one fast dude by the end of Basic. I was smoking the PT run with smooth 10 minute 2 miles. I was in the A group when it came to the morning runs around Harmony Church. I was at 198 lbs. and I could hump a 75 lb. ruck 20k like it was a Sunday stroll.

When I exited the service (ETS) in 1991 I was 205 and could still run like the wind. It only took me 15 years to get to where I am today, 371 lbs. I am praying it doesn’t take me 15 to get back to 204!

All of that for this . . .

This brings me to Saturday morning and the Crescent City Classic, CCC in New Orleans LA. This is a 10k around the CBD and out to City Park for the finish. I was not prepared and I knew it as I walked to the start. Even that morning I hadn’t done the things I knew I should have, stretch, fuel, poop, etc. I was late and I had no time.

We started a little late, but soon we were off. I was determined to pace myself and not get caught up on keeping up with the crowed. I lost that focus quickly. We were about one and a half miles into it and I was at 12:40 pace. For me that is flying! We turn onto Rampart and I begin to feel a little rub with my left shoe. There is not wind or breeze. It is just damp heat. That is never good for me.

My Momma, Henrietta was on Rampart wearing pink Easter Bunny ears! I saw her right after a water station, which was nice; it motivated me to keep focused. At about mile 3 I began to bonk. I had little energy and my IT band felt like it was going to pop on my left leg. There were a few folks cheering us on and they had hoses and sprinkler to cool us down.

At mile 4 I knew I had one of the largest blisters I have ever encountered on my left foot. I had to begin walking it was so painful. Funny thing was, it actually felt better to run than it was to walk. So, I ran! I had nothing in the tank. The greatest part of the race was when a 70 something year old man passed me speed walking. I knew I must have been an odd sight to those watching this run. Here is this guy, exerting every ounce of energy he has, sweating like a fire hydrant, running and everyone is passing him as they walk and chat it up. I would have liked to have seen that myself.

Once I saw City Park about mile 5 I knew I would finish, not in the 1:30:00 I wanted to, but I would finish. The last mile is kin of a blur. I began to hallucinate about ice cold beer, red beans and rice, a massage, maybe.

What actually transpired is the following:

I finished, saw my friend Devin, hobbled over to him and questioned myself as to whether I wanted to pass out of simply pass away. I chose to lean on the gate and contemplate the question. Luckily Devin drug me into the party area in Tad Gromley Stadium.

WOW! It was awesome. I was only able to grab 2 Gatorades and limp into the stands and watch, but what I saw was awesome.

Here is a city that is still 30 percent destroyed, 30 percent un-livable, 20 percent getting better, and 10 percent perfectly livable, BUT here were 30 thousand people celebrating together. I love my city. I pray hard that this storm season be easy on the coast and New Orleans, but we all know it probably won’t be.

Devin and I sucked down our Gatorades, caught the school bus back to the French Quarter and said our goodbyes. His wife Jenny did the 10k as well. She is 6 months pregnant and finished in 1:10 min!!!!!!!! Wow!!!!!!!!

I visited with m Momma for only a few seconds and drove home to Baton Rouge where Amanda performed surgery on my foot. She removed 3 blisters one that was deeper than any I have ever had and covered about 2 inches. That is a lot for a blister.

I will spend the week recovering from that and mentally preparing myself for my triathlon this coming weekend where I will again be racing against my friend Michael Pate. Mike beat me in our first of 5 races a couple weekends ago by 3 minutes. I have to redeem myself this weekend.

Thank you to everyone for your support. I will be 210 lbs. one day and your support will be a piece of the puzzle that gets me there.

Fat Boy 5k!

“Time, is on my side, say again!” I believe it was the Rolling Stones that sang those lyrics, however that song was not written for this guy!!!!

I pride myself on being organized. Amanda and my team at work might tell you differently, but I am very organized in a Christopher kind of way.

This morning, the morning of the Fat Boy 5k, I was not organized. I woke with plenty of time to shower (a pre-race ritual of mine) snack on a banana, read a little on the addict-a-net and then begin a slow peaceful drive a couple miles away from my home to the site of the Fat Boy 5k.

Let me say that this race is not properly labeled. When one hears Fat boy and 5k in the title of a run/race, one would think this may be a race or run geared towards . . . What was that you were thinking? Kenyan long distance runners that log sub 5 minute miles at the Boston Marathon? Oh? No? Ah! You were thinking along the same lines as I was.

Fat Boy 5k a race that gives fat people (ME) a chance to showcase our abilities.

Not so much.

I went on the official site for the race and found that the Clydesdale and Ultra Clydesdale were no bigger than 260 lbs. Are you kidding me! Two Sixty!??? Not that I am bragging since this is nothing to brag about, but 260 is incredibly small potatoes when we are talking close to 400 lbs here. I think next year they should consider a couple higher divisions in their Clydesdale. I think 261-320 and 321-360 and 361 and higher.

Enough of my personal idiosyncrasies.

After a very short drive I pull into the sub-division where the race was held. I noticed quite a few cars. I thought to myself, these people like to be early with a capitol E. I was 30 minutes early, but by the looks of it, these folks had been here for a long time.

It was a cool morning, I was happy. I walked into the field area where the registration was held. I thought to myself, self there aren’t very many people here. I walked up to the registration table. Stood there. The two ladies were mulling around, shuffling papers when finally one of them looked at me. She grinned, and then went back to mulling and shuffling. I had no idea what was going on here? However, slowly it began to sink in.

Many cars, not so many people. Not so many people registering. The registration ladies ignoring me. It became all too clear.

“Mam?” I tenderly asked. She looked at me, this time as though I were being a nuisance. “Has the race begun?” She looked at me as though I were an alien, “Yes.” She responded very matter of factly. At this point I was embarrassed to even stand there. I was close to walking away when a tall, running looking gentleman walked up with headphones on and told me the race was sold out sorry and I could come back next year. I informed him I pre-registered. “Great!” he said and I was given my race number and he said the race started 20 minutes ago. The lady handed me an XL T-Shirt and apologized for not having my size. Again, this race is called FAT BOY 5k.

I ran back to my truck, threw my extras, keys, wallet, glasses etc. into the car and ran back to the start. The same tall, running guy told me I could cut across this street to catch up with the group. I was having none of that. This Fat Boy came to RUN!!!!

My goal as has been for this season, to run sub 15 minute miles.

And I was off!!!!!

I was surprised at some of the hills in this sub-division, killer, at least for me they were. I was chugging along about a half mile into the race and the first runners were coming in. I rooted them on, they were moving. I made the second turn and it was like a cattle drive coming right at me. I was on the far right of the street, but people were actually brave enough to run right at me. I am a BIG dude! It was as if people didn’t see me? So I widened myself even more and dropped my head a little as if I wasn’t looking forward.

At the half-way point I was surprised at my time. I actually thought I had a chance to catch a small group of people walking. Since it was a triathlon I had decided to push really hard on this race. About 2 ½ miles into the race I was moving, for me, but then I hit a small brick wall. Not a literal wall, not a Gloria Wall, but a mind and body wall. Then I missed a turn somehow and ran into the driveway of a house. I stopped, looked around, and began running back.

I ran into two guys that were out for a leisurely run and they directed me to the correct route, thanks guys!

I crossed the finish line and happily hit the stop button on my Garmin and was pleasantly surprised with 14:24 minute miles!!!! Woo Hoo! I also ran 3.69 miles instead of the 3.1 mile 5k course.

I had a great time and can’t wait for my 10k race, the Crescent City Classic in New Orleans next Saturday. I am a little scared of the 10k, but if I feel like I did today, I will be just fine!!!

Until next time, get up, do something, anything to improve your health.

Much love!

Victory Is Mine . . . Sorta.

http://www.lakecharlestriathletes.com/

First I would like to congratulate UCLA on their win over my LSU Tigers. LSU just couldn’t pull it through to go to the National Championship, however they are a champion in my book for going at it the way they did. Remember all you Tiger haters, most of our squad are freshmen and sophomores. Keep hope alive!

This morning was like every race morning. I woke tired and edgy. I had been in Lake Charles for a few days working and the hotel I stayed in they decided to venture away from a traditional sleeping mattresses and provide its guest with 57 springs wrapped in fabric. I think masochist would have truly appreciated the experience, me, not so much.

I had my very best friend in the world with me at this race. Brent has just moved to Baton Rouge from Cincinnati to work with me. He is considering triathlon racing. He seemed to be excited to see his first triathlon up close and personal.

Amanda and Brent followed me to the race site and I checked in quickly since it was 7:20am and the race start was 8:00am. The topic of conversation with everyone was the water temperature. I knew it was nice, I had jumped in on Friday morning and then it was brisk, but no where near Meat Pie last October. Go to that post if you wanna talk about cold!

Mike Pate found me and we chatted up a bit as I checked in and set up my transition site. As some of you may know, today was the first of the pink Speedo challenge for us. This challenge, for those of you new to the blog, is a best of 5 race challenge. Lowest times win each race. The winner gets the winners trophy, but more than that, the winner gets to watch the non-winner race the last race of the year in a pink Speedo for the swim, a pink tutu with said pink Speedo, and platinum blonde wig, which can be worn in a ponytail for the bike and run. We are not saying that Individuals who wear pink Speedos are losers, or that Ballerinas’ are not winners, or that Platinum blondes are to be made fun of, however Mike or me in the outfit is hilarious and if anything we will do a disservice to those mentioned.

I was concerned about this race. It didn’t help that I had set a goal of finishing the race in 1:30:00 and when I asked Mike what his goal was he said, very nonchalantly, I better finish under 1:30. I have never beaten or finished under my goal time. The one time I thought I had made my goal was at Meat Pie, but after all was said and done, I didn’t by about 4 minutes.

We all went to the swim entrance. Mike is a better swimmer than I am. Sadly, the swim is my best sport out of the three. We started in the second heat. As we got going, Mike and I were neck and neck, literally. I kept feeling this guy nailing me in the side as I swam, I breathe on my left and see my buddy Mike. He wanted to swim zig zags so I stopped, let him go by and started up again.

Mike finished about 2 minutes ahead of me. He came out right behind my friend Robert, or Butters as he is known in our Rugby circle. I had to wait a few seconds to get out, I thought there was a wall or something in the water because there was a guy pulling people up and out of the water. It turns out I could have gotten out on my own.

Amanda and Brent were telling us at lunch that it is amazing to see Mike and I in the water going along and many people who stop and tread water or start swimming on their backs while we just chug on through. Not that I want to others to tread water, I want everyone to be successful, but it is nice to hear I am doing a good job.

I run into transition, Mike is almost finished and ready to go on the bike. I give him a holler, “Yea MIKE PATE!”, and I begin drying my feet and putting on my cycling gear. I couldn’t get my new LSU purple under armor on so easily, Mike helped me pull it down as he left transition. He got on the road about 4 minutes ahead of me. I have got to work on faster transitions. I don’t know if it’s mental or what, but I have got to work on being faster there. I want to see the times for the race. I think they kept transition times. I think I lost the race to Mike in the transitions.

I had decided this race to leave it all out there on the bike. Mike is a much better cyclist than I am. I decided that in order to be in a position to catch him on the run, I would need to be within 5 minutes when the run began. I did leave it all out on the bike. I averaged 19-21 mph on the way out on the bike. Most of you that ride with me know, I can keep 16-17 mph for about 45 min then it’s over.

We had a couple Baton Rouge Tri members there, two in particular would be my Platinum Challenge teammates Brian the Brianna, Konaboy, Nipps and the other, Charles THE Vanilla ice baby. Brian is an animal. He and I chatted for a few seconds before we hit the water. I asked him if he would take this race. The great thing about Brian is his humility and sense of humbleness. He is learning from the smak talkers of our club, MTB and Vanilla how to talk his share of smak, but his true nature is his humility. His response to my question was a shrug of the shoulders and a little bit of a “I don’t know man, uh . . .: I cut him off. “Good for you, humility, you be humble, I’ll tell it like it is.” You’re gonna smoke this race. Last week in Toledo Bend (see last post) I think he could have won that race. He won this one. He was smoking!!!!!!!!

But the surprise for me was, I saw Brian and very soon after I saw Charles on the bike. He was cruising! I was amazed at how close he was to the front since he started the swim in the second group with me which was 3 minutes behind the first group. I don’t know where he ended up on the overall, but it had to be top 10, easy. I gave both of them a shout out on my way out on the bike.

At the turn around I found out why I was going so fast on the way out. I was now riding against a head wind. It wasn’t too bad, but enough to piss you off, it happens. I tried to maintain at a minimum 15 mph. I think when all is said and done I may have averaged 17-18 mph overall on the bike.

I cruised into transition and mike was leaving. CRAP! I hadn’t caught up like I wanted to. Did I mention I need to work on my transitions? Yeah, I do, a lot. I get out of transition. I felt spent. I was afraid I used up my legs. Brian and Charles were done and yelling at me to pick it up! They were telling me to go get Mike Pate. I caught my breath and started running. I was having a problem keeping my legs moving, so I started sprint running. I would pick a spot ahead to start and to rest, I would run hard for that distance, then walk hard and repeat this over and over.

I was so pissed at myself. I wear a Garmin Forerunner 301. It straps on my wrist with a Velcro strap. My wrists are kinda big so it doesn’t go on real well. I know this, but I still decided to slap hands with my friend Butters as he was coming back in on the run. My Garmin went flying off my wrist. “SH@T!!” as I ran back bent over, picked it up and started running again. Guess what?! My friend Devin from the BR tri club, we slapped hands too. Garmin, it goes flying, AGAIN! Same thing, run back, pick it up, start running again. What was it the President said once? “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me . . . You won’t fool me again.” Or something comparable. Well, not this guy!!!!! A third, yes a third time, this gentleman I see at almost every race puts is hand up to give me five and . . . I do it. You know what happens. Dumb A@@!

I see Mike on the run, he was about 500 yards past the turn around, so I figured I was about ¼ mile behind him. I felt like I was gaining on him, but my legs were also cramping. I picked up my run a little harder on the way back. I would look at my Garmin and I was under 15 minute miles, which again for me is great, but would it be enough?

As I made a turn downhill on the last ½ mile I saw Mikes red shirt ahead, I was gaining on him, but not nearly fast enough. I see Amanda and Brent. “How far ahead is he?” Amanda tells me I can catch him. I pick it up hard and I actually start feeling good. I ask myself why I couldn’t do this 10 minutes ago. I can see the finish and I know I have lost.

I begin to get pissed, but then I see the time on the finish clock. 01:19:54. Are you kidding me!!!! I begin to get excited and pissed at the same time. I cross somewhere around 01:20:50 or something?????

Don’t misunderstand me. I am happy for Mike. He is my friend and I am so happy to see him do well. I am also happy that we push each other like we do. I don’t think I would have pushed this hard were it not for Mike.

I am and was more pissed at me. When I came into the finish I realized that I had a lot left in the tank and that I didn’t leave it all out there on the race course. I am not saying I would have beaten Mike. I am saying I didn’t push myself hard enough.

I am thrilled with my finish time. I am thrilled that only about 4 to 5 people passed me on the bike and that I had the experience of passing 4 or 5 people. It was a good day.

The first triathlon of the season. It was a victory. I will return again. I will continue to succeed in this goal of weight loss.

After the race Amanda, Brent, Mike and I chowed down on some Cajun food at Steamboat bills and had a good time. It is good to have friends.

The sad part was. My Cousin Michael had driven all the way from Houston to see me race and he didn’t find us and I didn’t have my phone. We missed him.

Michael, it meant so much to me that you drove all the way from Houston to see me race. I am so sorry we couldn’t hook up. By the way, you need to sign up for Iron Star ½ Ironman in Conroe TX on the 29th of October.

To my blog friends. Get up, get out and walk, jog, ride, swim, or whatever, just be active and make good decisions (which I don’t) with your food intake.

You can do it!!!!!!!

Holy Toledo!!!!!!!!

http://www.holytoledotri.com/

I didn't race.
I ate smores like a champ however! So this is a spectators report.
Man. I don't know where to begin?
Saturday was a blast. If there is one thing I am learning form this experience of triathlon itis . . . If you're not racing in an event, go support the event for your fellow club members.
I have gotten more out of IM Florida and Holy Toledo than out of my own races. You get to see how others hurt, smile, sweat, it is awesome. Seeing them in their transitions isawesome too! GO TO RACES even if you're not racing.
I arrived about 3:00ish???? Timbeaux had been there since Friday night I think? I pulled in and we began to work on the TV and antenna for the LSU/Texas game. Man we were excited. I the woods, watching the game, shooting the bull, what could be better!!??
So, the antenna didn't work, Joe Lee used his engineering skills, I used my "where is the aluminum foil"?" skills and we listened to the game on the radio at Big D's camp site.
This is funny. Big D, gets the camp site with water and electric. Timbeaux, Joe Lee, Myself Oh wait . . . EVERYONE else put our tents . . . on Debbie’s camp site too. IT WAS AWESOME. We had probably, hmmmm? At a minimum 12 tents around her site. These tents ranged from Timbeaux's smartly chosen (after having to break them down and pack them Sunday) tent for his child to another members Waldorf Astori tent which had the Kennedy Suite, Bridal Suite and President's Suite. I stayed in the Kennedy Suite and Rocketboy in the Bridal Suite.
Roughing it in the woods!!! My inflated air mattress, 2 pillows and down comforter came in handy, I tell ya I was roughing it!
If you go camping with Big D. I will tell you what to do.
Sit. Observe.
It is amazing. We had been at the site for more than 2 hours. She was stillgathering wood that I thought at the time was enough for a remake of Back Draft. She was putting out food and forcing it on you as if you were a refugee child from Cambodia and you would only be here for 10 minutes and then back to starvation.
Everyone was putting in their share in the beginning. Collecting wood, manicuring the site, but hell after an hour I think everyone realized, "there is no way I can keep up with that girl!" and we all sat and listened to the Glorious game of basketball where the Tigers from LSU defeated the Longhorns of Tejas! Big D continued to gather.
About 20 minutes after the game more people began to show up, unload and set up. This made Big D happy since she was able to feed more children of her camp.
The sun began to set. What a beautiful day it had become. The fire was a blazin. We all talked around the fire. Smak was laid. Jokes were told. Beer was drank, wine was poured. Rest Stop stories were shared. It was such a safe haven. Everyone felt comfortable in being themselves and kicking the crap out of one another verbally. It was awesome!!!!!!
I got to know so many, so much better. This should be a mandatory event for all members even if you're not racing. Also my Wife, Amanda thought we should all go up on Friday night instead of Saturday. I wondered if she just enjoyed me being out of the house, but I think she saw the pure excitement on my face while I was telling her stories of the weekend.
Our friend Oliva, Trip's daughter 5. Gave lessons on Smore making. Kona boy really took these lessons to heart and being the engineer he is created a smore roasting system the enamored us all. Soon after he began the quest of the EPIC marshmallow roasting stick.
Norse wooed the ladies.
Then one by one, victims of the Holy T began to disappear into the night, Ty first, then Neilr, until there were only a few.
As I lay in my suite relishing the evening and thinking about the morning to come, I hear the faintest, melodic, SNORE coming from a tent to the rear. TImbeaux? Joe Lee? hmm? Turns out that the snore tent was none other than the tent of Ladies. Way to go girls!!!!!! Putt’n the men to shame!
I slept like a log. A warm, soft bed, one pillow under my head, the other laying on the tent floor, oh I squandered! Rolling and tossing around in my suite with the 6 ½ foot ceilings.
Morning came. We all began to trickle out. Norse christened (s/p) a tent or two (sorry) and I began to re kindle the fire.
Soon, the fire was roaring with the help of so many and coffee was abundant. If this had been survivor, we couldn't have kicked anyone off!
Darius was manning the pancakes which I wanted one so badly, but I felt that racers should partake and not lowly cheerleaders. Smiles were everywhere even though there would be much pain in a few short hours.
As everyone began to head to the race area, Olivia and I had more Smores.
I had a nice HOT shower. Put on a fresh change of clothing and meandered to the race site. What a glorious day!
Mitch, Rocketboy and I sat around shooting the bull talking about who looked strong. Pat was out of the H20 first and fitbird AKA Race day, was the first female out, but more so the 4th overall out of the water.
I watched as they transitioned in. Man, awesome. This was a weird setting. Most of the transitions you see have much tension. Great competitiveness. At times some triathlon transition sites feel like a mine field of explosive aggression to me, but not today. Today this race, this transition was full of smiles and relaxation. I felt like everyone was realizing that this was not a race against one another, but more a race WITH themselves and against the course. I am not naive. I know some where bucking to kick the crap out of one another out there, but for the most part, it was a very different T2.
I went to the finish line when I heard a runner was coming.
“BRIAN?” Was what shot through my head. No, it was some other dude, he was flying. This dude was a stud. Props to him on that win. But he soon got on my bad side. I don't know him from Adam and he is probably an awesome dude, but when he was talking to BoBo about his "in race strategy" concerning Brian, he was a little too cocky for my tastes. But still, much props to that big dog.
Darius came in very shortly after for the relay. Man. Wow. Holy Toledo. He was flying. That is one running fool. I personally feel it was the Boudin.
I began to notice at the bottom of the hill where the finish line was that runners would get confused and enter the wrong road and not go into the parking lot for the finish. So I climbed the hill with deliberation. Made it to the top! And I . . . DIRECTED TRAFFIC!
When I would see a runner way way down the road I would yell to them so they would know they were almost home. Sometimes they would raise their arms in recognition. It was awesome to see the looks on everyone’s faces as they topped the hill and could se the finish at the bottom. A look of pure joy and more than that a look of success blanketed them, even if they didn't know it.
It was awesome to see all of the Brtri Uni's out there. We, in my opinion, were the absolute dominant group out there, by far. Kudos to you guys.
Ty, you kicked azz. NeilR, seriously dude, you spanked it man. Don't knock your swimming. You kicked tail.
Vanilla, you da man. You could have done another 10 miles of that. Jeremy, you are one happy dude, with a great attitude, but where the heck were you for the camp fire?????
PatK, man, what can I say? HACK! HACK! HACK HACK, HACK. And HACK over the HACK HACK, but don't HACK HACK, because you never HACK HACK HACK HACK. Great job!
Big D. Big D big D big D. Can I have your autograph, for so many things. You are a trooper, a competitor and more over one awesome, happy, lovable chick!!!!!!!! You mopped the course up and smiled the whole time.
Timbeaux, way to be out there, brutha, The bike will come. Build on it, and it will come.
Joe Lee. Man I am so sorry. After all you suffered on the course, then to suffer the brunt of my irresponsibility of loud music playing. Man. Sorry about the pork. But you are one hell of a racer and one really cool dude.
Tripp, it was very nice meeting you and your lovely wife and daughter. They were GREAT company. I sent a missing purse, pen, and pad with Joe Lee to give you at the YMCA.
ROCKO!!! What the heck are you doing!!!!???? Are you trying to lose that name??? You did awesome and not only on the swim, but everything. I hope I didn't traumatize your dog when I took her into the shower with me.
Erissa (s/p) man. Way to be girl! Man. Oh the places you'll go!
My hero, Brianna the Konaboy, nipps. You kicked ass and I think you could have kicked a little more ass. You are the shiznick and I am going to Hawaii this year with you. Book it brutha.
I know I missed a couple folk, sorry. You all did great.
Tim, thanks for trying to jump start my truck after a night of listening to the game. You were a lot of fun, sorry you didn’t get to race.
But, last, to my friend Ann, the race day fitbird. You rock. You rock you rock you rock! Nothing else, you just rock. Hope you are feeling ok today.
NEXT YEAR, mandatory attendance for all BRtri Society, club, members. You don't have to come, but if you don't you will never know about all the stories I DIDN"T TELL!!!!!!!!
It was great hanging out with you all, thanks for your friendship.
Peace out!

Opelousas Duathlon

WATER!!! WATER!!!!

Today was the best day for me when it comes to racing except for one small thing . . . HUMIDITY.

It was awesome. Cool about 64 degrees. It was overcast, no real hard hitting sun. A little windy but, not anything that would affect my racing. The day was everything I like in a race day, except the Humidity.

As I set out this morning at 5:45am for a 1 hour drive to Opelousas Louisiana I thought that I might want to pack a few extra water bottles to take for the race. Then I felt the nice cool breeze outside and dismissed the idea. They call in intuition. Women seem to have it and utilize it. Men, or at least this man, seems to have it, but use it? Not so much.

Amanda, my beautiful wife and I talked and joked on the ride there. It was nice. We didn’t talk about racing at all. Usually I am talking about my goals and I hope I don’t bonk on the second run, and all that jazz. Today, we just talked about making a baby one day and our friend Brent who is coming to work with us next week and other things of that nature. It was quite relaxing.

We passed my friend Clay and Corey and their family on the way there. Our Tri Club had a really strong showing at this race. I was very proud of that. Also one of our members, Darius was there not racing but, cheering. I hold a special spot in my soul for those guy. Last year Vanilla did it at Meat Pi, a tri in Natchitoches LA. When you are not racing, but you still wake up early on a Sunday or Saturday morning to root on your friends and club members, that to me is really awesome.

We arrived and I racked my bike and checked in. Amanda met Clay and Corey’s family that was there. I began to sweat immediately. This began to worry me. All I did was rack my bike and put on my shoes. Sweat was everywhere. Now, I wished I had packed those other water bottles.

Transition area is all set up and I begin to walk around a bit. I saw my new friends Brandy and John. They are awesome. I enjoy them because one, they are down to earth cool people, but also good people. Brandy is just starting out in triathlons and this was her first race EVER! She was nervous, but I new she would do well. John is a triathlete and had good skills and also hauls butt on the bike, I’ve never seen him run. I socialized with them a bit and then went to see how Eric and Charles were doing.

Charles, not so good. He had a flat on his front tire and needed a whole new front wheel, which he didn’t bring. He said, “I always have a spare front wheel with me”. I didn’t ask him, but maybe his intuition failed him too!

Eric is new to racing as well. It is so awesome to see so many getting involved in triathlons. Eric is a super nice guy and is in the same business as myself and Charles, Finance and financial planners. He raced awesome, not for his first race, but just plain awesome. I was proud of both he and Brandy on their first races, more on Brandy later.

Last weekend I came out to this race course with Brandy and John and we rode the bike loop and I ran the run loop. I was concerned because my heart rate on the bike was in the high 150’s and mid 160’s, which on the bike, that is really high for me. Then on the run my HR was in the 170’s from the get go and went as high as 182. So needless to say I was a little nervous about the race.

Today was different for some reason. My HR on the run never got about 170 and averaged about 158 and on the bike never above 162 and I averaged about 148. No worries this week.

I was trying to pace myself this race unlike the last duathlon at Evangeline Oak a couple weeks ago. At Evangeline I shot out, HA, I started running at a 14 min mile pace and kept it there and finished the first run with a 15 minute mile pace. Then on the bike I was dead and on the second run I averaged 19 min miles. Yuck.

My pacing method, didn’t work. It was still the exact same and I had a little left in the tank at the end which bothered me. John and I were talking before the race and we both wanted to leave it all out there on the course. I didn’t.

The first run was ok. I could have pushed a little harder and kept up with Mamma Bear as she is know, my friend Angel and Brandy, but I was going to stick to my plan of pace. I finished the run very calm and ok.

Bike kinda sucked. A little windy, but not too bad. I let the hills on the south bound side of the double loop get me, both times. I was ticked. But I finished the bike strong, for me and went into the transition excited.

I got out on the second run and about ½ mile into it began to bonk a little like I usually do. I began to think about my pains, the new blister forming on my foot, my exhaustion.

I kept telling myself, make it to the water/aid station and you’re halfway to finishing this thing. I needed some water. I took gel with me in my fuel belt, but no water so my mouth was icky. I turned the corner where the water station was the first run and it was NOT THERE. Talk about messing with your psyche!!! I guess they thought everyone had passed, I would have I guess.

Then my mind really got to churning. At one point I was afraid of finishing. Blahh! I had less than a mile. Then God sent me some little Angels.

As I made the turn along the golf course, a little less than a mile to go, there were about six kids on their bikes. They were just riding around the block. They started to talk to me, asking me questions. “What are you doing?” One kid asked. “I am racing”, I responded, “but not too fast huh?” They laughed. “Where is everyone else?” Another kid asked. I giggled to myself, you gotta love kids. I told them that everyone else was done with the race and having jambalaya, beer and Gatorade.” I was ready to answer the next question before it was asked. Then it was asked, “Why aren’t you finished yet?” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and honestly tell them, “I am not finished yet because I am fat and slow and you guys better eat right and exercise so you don’t get fat and slow one day.”

What was brilliant about this is that I was now on the last turn to the finish only about 500 yards to go. I love those kids. They took my mind off of all the bad stuff I was thinking for a good 5 or 6 minutes.

As I made that turn I heard someone yell, “You’re almost here RoadDawg!” I think it was my friend Matt. I kept chugging away. I tried to pick it up and finish really strong, but my legs weren’t having any of that. Everyone was hollering and cheering. MAN I LOVE THAT. I may be last, but that just leaves more people to cheer me in. THANK YOU EVERYONE who does that, whether it is for me or for those at the races you go to. Cheering in those last few people, those are the people who need it and your cheers may keep them coming back.

I finished.

I love the direction I am going. It is slow and it is challenging, but it is the right direction.

Until next time,

Go walk, run, or bike. It doesn’t matter, just go outside and do something.

Come along for the trip!

I really don't know where to start.

I am at a loss for words. Don't laugh it happens to even the best of us.

I am spending this week digging into my young life. Trying to find some click to my relationship with food.

Next week I am spending time looking at my teen life and young adult life.

Some may think I am crazy putting this all out on a blog for the world to see. I say it is the only way I can be honest with myself. That may seem weird to say, but I tend to sugar coat things in life and let mishaps slide off my shoulder, it takes a lot to upset me. I tend to look at the good in everything and not at the hurtful or indifferent issues in life.

I don't want to put up a battered child, feel sorry for me monologue. I want no one else to be hurt by my writings, but I need to be honest about my past so I can fix the future. I won't do that by keeping a journal or diary of thoughts. I will when I am held accountable by my writings and knowing that those who know me and have known me in my life can discern reality versus my perception.

It is going to be difficult to put all of this out there.

Everyone has had bad experiences in their lives.

I don't want this to be a pity party and I especially don't want to hurt my family, Mom and Dad, when it comes to my revelations and mental digging into my past, but at the same time I want to be honest FOR myself.

My Momma, who is a brilliant woman and has the kindest, sweetest heart says to me on a regular basis that the past is the past. She says I have to stop dwelling on all of the bad things that happened to me in my life. I agree. However, this is not dwelling. What you will read over the next couple of weeks is interpreting my past, trying to understand my past.

I want you to know, that my past is a blur to me. I remember little of my childhood and less of my teen-hood. This is a problem for me.

I say, I have friends who hold dear memories of their child hood and friends and family. I wish I had those, but I am not bitter, I am not dwelling and I won’t be dwelling in the upcoming posts. I will be digging. I will be telling my story. I want to correlate my relationship with food in a way that I might realize why I am the way I am.

Here is a quote from a dear friend of mine. I think it is important for all of us to realize that we each have our on vices. Mine is food and compulsion. Someone else’s my be alcohol. Another’s may be confidence and self worth. Here is how my friend put it.

For me, food has never been a problem issue. But, there is no man who doesn't have some issue, whether he realizes it or admits it or not, that is comparable for them what the food issue is for you. What's one man's food issue, is another man's obsession with gaining people's approval, or another man's struggle with relationship intimacy, or yet another man's drive toward defining himself through monetary success.

I want everyone to understand before I begin this process, that I am not pointing fingers at anyone else for my issues. I am the only one who “allowed” them to happen and I feel I am the only one who can recreate this relationship with food.

Many of you are probably much stronger than I am with your vices. You may have been a smoker, as I was 12 years ago, and stopped cold turkey, as I did. You may have had issues with your appearance that you simply fixed. I am happy and so proud of you for that.

I think I need this investigation. My mind is a knowledge sponge. I have to know the ins and outs of everything.

I am not satisfied with something until I know how it works, what makes it tick. I think that is why I disassembled all of my Christmas presents.

The problem there too was, I didn’t know how to put them back together after I figured out how they worked.

I am going to figure out what makes me tick when it comes to food. I am going to put it back together.

Thanks everyone for your comments and thoughts on my last blog.