You're Daddy is so fat . . .

"Ofosu Yeboah and Jim MacLaren"








Again and Again and . . . Again!


YUMMY! I eat.

I eat a lot.

I have a beautiful wife, healthy, thin, tall, beautiful so I am so sorry for our future children. The other little kids won’t tell “Momma, fat jokes”. They’ll tell “Daddy fat jokes!” I can hear it now . . .

“Yo Daddy is so fat, that he eats Wheat THICKS!”

“Yo Daddy is so fat, when he wears a yellow rain coat, people yell TAXI!!!”

“Yo Daddy is so fat he had to go to Sea World to get Baptized!””

And this is just one of the reasons that I will not be fat in one year. It is not going to be easy. I have fallen off of the wagon several times since I began this adventure almost four months ago. I have lost a little and I have gained it back, I have eaten healthy for a month or so and killed it in a week! I have exercised consistently for three weeks and then I have not seen a running shoe near my feet for three.

No one said this was going to be easy. As a matter of simple fact, I think it is clear that everyone knows it will be quite difficult. I think it will be.

I began this trek to healthiness weighing in at 406 pounds. I weighed literally right now and I come in at 388 pounds. A month ago I was at 376 pounds. Talk about a Yo-Yo!

It has been difficult the past few weeks here in Baton Rouge. My home town of New Orleans, 55 miles away has been destroyed by Hurricane Katrina and Rita, but worse, it is being demolished by politicians in Washington. The city I love will never be quite the same and I fear it may be radically different if the politicians have their way. It is sad. And to a man of compassion, which I am to a fault, seeing all that is happening around me is emotionally draining.

So I eat. Then, the more I eat, the worse I feel about myself. The more I eat the less I want to go out and exercise because the worse I feel and the more I see myself as a grotesque, fat, lazy bum. Maybe I am? You know. I am not trying to be funny. Is it possible that I am grotesque? Is it possible that I not only feel fatter, but I do look that much fatter? Am I lazy? I could answer yeas to each of those questions.

Now . . .

Can I stop? This is the much more difficult question. Can I stop these actions that are killing me? Is it possible to turn around my current trends and patterns and renew my thinking patterns so that my kids won’t be made fun of because their Daddy is grotesque, fat and lazy?

Only time will tell. But I am running out of time. We are running out of time.

I know it is difficult to go into public as we are. I feel you when we walk into a restaurant and as the good looking size 4 hostess walks towards the booth with the table that won’t adjust; we cringe as we ask her for a table. “SHE KNOWS WHY!!” We scream to ourselves.

I know people stare at us as we are walking or jogging on the side of the road in our subdivisions, but that’s ok.

I must accept who I am right now. I am a fat man. I am an unhealthy man. I am a man with no direction. I am lazy to a fault. This is who I am right now. I have to know myself to change myself. I must realize who I am before others do so that I feel comfortable in my own skin.

If I can realize who I am with all of my faults, then whatever others think about me is arbitrary, because once I know myself, then I can begin to find the self I want to be.

I am going to make a list of all of the things I am right now. I am going to make another list of all of the things I want to be. Not a second list of what I don’t want to be, since I am sure all of that will be covered on my who I am right now list.

I am going to post that list for all of you. I want you to help me be that man.

I have fallen again, but I am getting back up.

Do you know what the funny or maybe it is the ironic thing about all of this is?

I am the only one who can get in my way here. The only person that can keep me from being the ma I want to be . . . Is me. Sure others can hinder me. Others can intentionally and unintentionally set me back, but none of those people picks up a fork and put s food o it and puts it in my mouth and moves my jaws back and forth until I swallow.

Until that happens . . . It’s all about me.

I’m back.

There are 12 months until I compete in my first Olympic size triathlon in Florida. Twelve months. I am in control. No one else. God allows me to choose, while he is in control of all things, he lets me find my own way. Twelve months.

Make your own lists. Who are you right now?

Who will you become?

I know you will become great. I am going to and I want you to come along with me.

God Bless

Motivation! Motivation?

Motivation comes in many packages . . .


It was a long drive to Sugarland Texas. It wasn’t as long as I had expected, but it was still long enough to make my legs ache a little. I have got to learn to stop and stretch during my long drives and not drive straight through.

I met my Cousin, Michael at his place in Houston on Saturday. Michael had just flown in from France and had literally not slept in 24 hours. He sat next to a child that didn’t allow him to close his eyes at all. This would be his first triathlon and what better way to introduce yourself to the sport than with no sleep!

We went to the packet pick up in Sugarland. We parked and as we were walking up to the place we were met by Mr. Outside Voice. A gentleman, maybe five foot 6 inches with grey hair cut in a crew cut style, welcomed us LOUDLY. I first thought he was speaking so loudly because we were outside, but then we went inside . . . hence why I named him Mr. Outside Voice. He was very motivated to be there and do his job, which he did very well. He was very nice and helpful and you never had to ask him to repeat himself.

After picking up our packets and buying a pair of tri shorts for Michael, we decided to drive the bike course. NICE. Very flat, smooth roads, shaded roads for the most part. I don’t think I could have asked for much better.

I was concerned about this race since the only other race I had done in the great state of Texas, I DNF’d (Did Not Finish). However, after driving the bike course and the run course I felt much better about this Texas race.

We arrived early as I like to for the race. Michael was not sure why we would get up at 3:30 in the morning for a race that didn’t begin until 7:30 AM. It was a 40 minute drive to the site from his house and I just like to get there first to set up and breathe a little of the stress out.

It was already hot at 5:45 AM. I began to panic a bit. I was sweating like I did at the race I DNF’d. I was feeling jittery which wasn’t helping matters either. I set up my transition, looked around for Michael and relaxed as best as I could. I checked out Michael’s Transition and he was ready.

Motivation comes in many packages. As I was setting up there was a woman who was doing her first triathlon. She had no idea what she was doing. She didn’t know how to rack her bike or anything. I was happy to help her. It was motivation to me to be able to do that, since I felt experienced. At this point I haven’t checked her number to see how she did, I hope she did great.

As the race came to start we lined up along the pool in order of our race number. I was in the middle. I really need to work on my swimming. I am decent but, not good. There was a really cool woman about two or three numbers behind me. I knew I was going to be trampled by her in the swim, she looked like a monster in the pool and I was scared. She had a silver one piece tri suit with pigtails. About lap one and a half she woooooshed by me like silver streak. I was humbled. About three other passed me but, they were fast, very fast.

The comical part of the race was the exit from the pool. If only I could have been a spectator instead of a participant. I was about to jump up and swing my leg over and roll out of the pool when a nice gentleman offered me his hand and assistance getting out of the pool. I though for a second . . . Does this guy know how big I am? However, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and grabbed hold tightly. Another man noticed my girth and ran over I latched on to his hand as well. Now it becomes interesting. There are two rather strong men utilizing every muscle in their body to pull this 376 pound man out of the water. Both of my feet a secured on the side of the pool and by this time the blood vessels in the men’s heads are showing and the redness in their faces becomes alarming to me. I think at one point they were close to giving up but then they realized that my grip was strong and my will was great and if they gave up, a swim was in their future. So they bucked up and gave a last groan and up I went!

Transition was slow, but deliberate.

There is not much to say about the bike. It was flat, I was happy.

Transition was fastest I think of any so far.

Oh the run. I mean the walk run, walk run, walk run. Those Texans, they sure know how to get a guy moving. I was wearing a new shirt since the dark navy blue one that I have been wearing soaks up every ounce of sun. So I have on an LSU shirt (Go Tigers) and LSU became my name during the run. I loved it.

“Come on LSU, let’s go!”, was the most commonly utilized motivational cadence I heard. I also heard plenty of “GO TIGERS!” So it seemed there were a few LSU fans in attendance.

One of the volunteers ran up next to me and told me very sincerely, “Man, you are my hero, I mean it, you are awesome.”

Now let me ask you, how could you give up after hearing that. I had a really bad pain in my foot, right in the front padding. It felt like it was actually tearing. I was in pain. It seems that is the case in each race, but the pain just seems to rotate around my body!

I was about 1 ½ miles into the run and I was closing into what I thought was the last leg of the race. You see Michael and I drove what we thought was the run course . . . NOT! As I turn a corner thinking I go right and then into the last nice shaded finish a volunteer directs me to the left.

THE LEFT?!!!! LEFT???!!!! What? I was struggling quite badly with the foot, but I turned left and gimped on. The volunteer that told me to go left hollered out to me. “Only 2 miles left, you’re doing great!”

2 MILES!!! What!?? I thought I was in the last mile easy, but that turned out not to be the case. And again, on I gimped.

Motivation comes in many packages.

Before I go into the most motivational piece of the race I want to share what I have shared in many of my writings. The Triathlete community is awesome. I have never met a group of individuals so supportive and motivating than in this group of multi-sporters. I don’t think I have met a kinder, nicer group of people. They make call you out when you’re slumping, but they will be there to help you get going again. I never want to deter anyone considering beginning the life of triathlons. It is a wonderful sport with unbelievable people in it.

On to the ultimate motivation of my day.

As I was entering the last left of the run about 500 yards to the finish I couldn’t feel my foot. That was a good thing. I was running so slow I was actually losing time! Many people were cheering me on and I was loving it.

It was so hot.

As I was about 25 yards from the finish this guy says to me, “Come on tiny!” Now, first off the tiny thing kinds stung. Anyone that knows me can clarify to you, I am anything but, tiny

I took it in stride and continued to struggle on when I heard the same guy as I had just passed him say to whom every he was with, “If that fat M*ther F*cker can do one of these things, I sure can.”

I was so angry!

I wanted to turn around and spit on him!

Instead I began to run faster and because of that I beat the time I wanted to finish in by over 2 minutes! I thought about going back and saying something to him. I thought about going back and knocking the . . . But, I didn’t.

I told myself that next year I was going to come and do this race and wear the same LSU shirt and hope that guy was there and he could see me 50 to 75 pounds lighter and I would get mine. Even though he would still probably say things that aren’t so kind.

I am not putting this in here for sympathy or to get people fired up at an unknown rude individual.

This is for my friends that are trying to better themselves and become healthy. I am a very fat man. I get looks left and right, up and down at races. I get comments of all sorts. If looks could speak I would be interested to hear them. It happens. But racers who may look at you out of the corner of their eye and question why you are here to race, those are the first ones to congratulate you and show excitement for you when you have finished.

You will get weird looks. You will hear comments. You may even have some rude jerk who comes right out and shows his ignorance as I did in this race, but the one thing you must remember is this.

You are tri-ing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The next thing you must remember is that those who are racing next to you respect you and are rooting for you and their respect is the respect that truly means something, not some loser standing on the sidelines.

It is so awesome these days when I am setting up my transition area and a fellow racer asks me if this is my first triathlon. I love to gently smile and tell them, “no, this will be my 6th.”

YOU CAN DO IT. I am with you. Struggling, sweating, hurting, and laughing! Let’s get healthy.

Until next time . . .

Hurricane Katrina

Due to the recent hapenings in my home city of New Orleans, I have been lacking in my blog writing duties.

It is sad and what what you see on TV is no the full picture, allthough I did stop watching News about a week ago.

Look for a weight post and new blog soon!

Please keep us in your prayers.

Tri-ing Fat Man

These past few weeks have been quite stressful.

There are many things going on at work. Work causes stress at home. Stress at home causes stress for my wife. Stress for my wife causes stress for her family. Stress for her family . . . That again causes stress for me.

In all of this it has been easy to drop out of sight and out of mind. I have fallen off the wagon. I have not trained in over a week. I have made several excuses. Even this morning I had my running gear all set out for me to run at 5:45am. Alarm went off. I hit the snooze twice. I finally rose from the bed about 6:00am, than just slumped on the couch and turned on Sport Center.

The whole time I am watching TV, I get more frustrated with myself. I try and make excuses even so I don’t feel like a failure.

Amanda wakes. She asks me if I am feeling OK. I told her I felt sick. I did a little, but more I was just sick of myself. It is not easy failing for the millionth time at this health thing.

You see at times I don’t feel like I have just failed myself.

My Father . . . He has been frustrated with my weight now for many years. He is well fit and strong like bear! I feel like I let him down too when I fail.

My friends that are so behind me and proud of me when I succeed, I feel like I let them down as well.

Then there is the part of me that is just afraid I will never reach my goals. I see myself in the mirror and I question whether I will ever get rid of the extra 200 pounds I need to. If you are fat you know what I mean when I say I look in the mirror. It is amazing how brutal I can be to myself.

Then I begin to think about people who are not fat. I wonder what they are saying to each other when they pass me in their car as I am running? The more I resist training, the more I fret about what I look like and how bad I look trying to run and then I put it off. Smart huh?

Food is an addiction for me. Exercising is fun for me, but I wear down quickly. My body aches for days after a race or hard day of training.

Have you noticed a trend here?

I have listed my fears. I have hit a rut, a bump in the road, fallen of the wagon, what ever you call it. I have stopped my positive momentum towards good health. I was feeling more and more like a quitter and loser, a failure, but something happened.

Something awesome happened.

Those people I was afraid of letting down. They picked me up. Now, I haven’t trained yet, but I have made a promise to them that I would refocus my determination and start back training and completing my goals. Tomorrow I will run. The next day I will swim. The following day I will bike. Then I will do it all over again.

My point is. I have fallen off this wagon a million times before. The difference between the other times and this one is, I am getting right back on it, right away. I am not going to feel sorry for myself. I am not going to take weeks and months to fall back into morbidity and accelerated death.

I am not going to eat badly and say who cares anyway! I am not going to make up reasons for not exercising and training so I feel lees guilty!

I am going to get back on the stick! I am going to start now.

I stopped having fast food for three months! THREE MONTHS!! I had it four times in the last week. I had been drinking only water for months, in the last week I’ve had more sprites and root beers than I care to count!

NO MORE!

Why am I putting this all down on a blog for everyone to read?

I am slowly figuring things out about this whole being fat thing.

Here are my latest lessons.

The people in your life that care for you and your health don’t care if you fail, they only care if you quit. We are all going to fail at this. We have been failing at it for years now, some of us all of our lives. We will fail again! When we fail and those who care for us find out that we have failed, they are not going to chastise us! They will not make fun of you. They will not say I told you so. They will not go away!

They will challenge you. They will comfort you. They will motivate you. They will support you even more than they did when you were succeeding! If you don’t believe me, just try it. Wait, better yet, you’ll see because that is my second lesson.

YOU WILL FAIL. Several times. I have failed two or three times since I began training and completing triathlons. I have had set backs and failures. This past week and a half or so had been a major failure. And there will be more.

The key I am learning is, when you fail, first try and understand why. What happened? Was it stress? Did something in your schedule change? Did you let your membership at the YMCA expire and then just blew it off? Where you injured? Is something emotional going on in your life? Write it down, figure what all the reasons are that you might be falling off of the wagon.

Once you have an idea why, you my not be certain, but you have an idea, then try and understand how you can continue to focus on your health and training even under the same circumstances the next time it happens.

Now I realized that about half of what I mentioned in the previous paragraph was happening to me. That may be the same with you? But you can over come it with planning.

Once you have an idea of what happened, get back on the stick!

It’s OK to fail. It’s not OK to quit.

Tell your friends when you’re failing next time.

Then sit back and watch.

That’s my last lesson. I underestimated my friends. You can do the same, but I am sure you’ll get some of the same results as I did this weekend.

I am too afraid to quit now. The threats I received form my friends seemed sincere and I’m not going to test them.

I thank them for that and tomorrow I will run. I will run and run and run. It will hurt and I will sweat . . . A lot. However, I will be happy.

I will be happy because I am back o the wagon again. Just like you. Come on. Get back in it. I’m with you.

I’m with you in our successes and our failures and guess what, there are many more with us.

Determination.

ONE ANGRY MAN!

Many of you will empathize with me while reading this post. Some of you will sympathize with me, but a few of you will be completely perplexed by this post.

Today I am angry. Yesterday I was angry. This past week I’ve been angry. Angry at myself. I have been in a “rut” concerning my new healthy living enterprise. I made a commitment to myself to become healthy. I committed to exercise, healthy eating, and a new attitude. This past week I failed at each of them. Not just one, two but all three.

I ate very unhealthily, I ate too much, I exercised ONE day, and on top of it all I lost my edge. My edge has been my attitude. There have been days when I have fallen off my wagon and eaten more than I should have or eaten the wrong items for my diet. There have been several days in a row where I have neglected my exercise. I paid the price in a race but, the one thing that didn’t waiver under any circumstance was my attitude. I had a resolve about myself, a mission, a map, determination, and on and on; I called it my healthy attitude. This attitude is what got me up in the morning to run, swim, or bike. This attitude made me think about what I was ordering at a restaurant. This attitude made me drive by Popeye’s fried chicken at 9:00 at night. I am unstoppable with that attitude and it didn’t let me down . . . Until last week.

Losing weight has been the most difficult challenge in my life. I have had difficult challenges, but my weight and health have beaten me down at each confrontation. At times I am afraid of what will happen once I have controlled my weight and reached my goals of set for my health? What will I do? Really? What will I do? If I spend this much time focused on my weight, what will I do with all of that time once I have taken care of it?

I know one thing. I won’t be angry anymore.

You know what the most difficult part of being angry at me is? I want to eat.

I WANT TO EAT AND EAT AND EAT!

Why?

Am I punishing myself? It really doesn’t make me feel better. I don’t think of it as comfort. Or maybe I do?

ATTITUDE.

My attitude keeps me focused. When I lost that last week, things went really wrong. I am going to spend today getting that attitude back. I am going to reevaluate my goals. I will, again, write down what I am not going to eat, for example, fast food, fried foods, etc. I am going to examine my training and look at the goals I have set physically.

I am going to pray.

I am going to re-focus and regain that attitude of health and success with this incredible pain I am creating for myself.

Please pray for me and think positive thoughts for me. I will succeed and I will complete my goals, but more importantly I will live to see my children that I will have one day, raise their children.

Thank you all for listening. Thank you for your support. Thank you.

Now, I need to go re-focus.

Weigh In #5 August 06, 2005

(My Personal Trainers)

386 lbs.

Net gain/loss = (-5.4 lbs)

Previous weigh in: 379 lbs. July 10, 2005

Begining weight: 391.4 June 10, 2005

NEXT weigh in: August 5, 2005

Must have training . . .

This is a funny video, however it is fairly close to the real thing.

Enjoy

http://members.cox.net/tyrichey/Cliff Bar Swim Training.mpg

NO SOUP FOR YOU!

http://www.abitaman.com/results/ag3.txt

I was scared, intimidated, and had very low confidence going into this race (see Disco Triathlon post).

My Momma’s first race! Once I got past snapping at her and everyone else who came to the race for me (I’m sorry guys, I was a little . . . well, read the first line over again) I think she ended up having a good time. Her comment was, "You have to come out to see this to fully understand it, it is unbelievable." I am so happy she was able to come.

I want to reiterate what my website is for. It is for motivation for anyone who wants it, with a flair for the obese. I am that, obese. I carry around an extra person in weight on my body and not a small person, but a 200 pound person. I have been ashamed and disgusted with myself for a few years and I am trying to do something about it. You see, this thing, this web thing, is also motivation for me. The emails I get from those of you who read it, the postings (while rare) you all leave, the people that tell me I am motivation to them ALL OF THAT, motivates me to be better, thinner, and happier. So, this is a note to ALL of you that help to motivate me by simply reading and commenting . . . Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I say this now, because you will soon see (in a funny way) that for a fatman in triathlons, the motivation is at times lacking!

July 30, 2005, Saturday. Amanda, My Momma, and I are driving home from LUX (yes I said it) Mississippi where we have our annual family reunion. This is a day of gathering, socializing, and praying for those in our family who need it. I look forward to the event each year and my Uncle Bill works very hard at it and at this event he is in his element.

I am not trying to bore you with family diatribe, but I must lay down the framework, so please bear with me.

My family is at a disadvantage in life. There are two major problems with my family that cause us to suffer needlessly and routinely. First, we all love to eat. Second, people in our family can flat out cook! There were probably 70 family members in attendance, but there was food for 700! It would be different if the food sucked, but oh man, oh man!

All homemade, creamed corn, ham, lima beans, brisket, fried chicken, turkey dressing, 20 different soufflés, green beans, BBQ ribs, macaroni salad, potato salad, on and on and on and on . . . Then, desserts! A whole table just for desserts!

This is not California cook’n either; this is down home southern cook’n. Lard is required in 50% of these recipes and as a substitute the recipe says you can use salted butter, but none of that margarine stuff! This is what I look forward to every year. I know it may sound sad, but it is the truth. I am motivated every year by the food. I love the family, but the food is the seller to make that 2 ½ hour drive to LUX, Mississippi.

Back to the drive home from the reunion.

Amanda and I began to discuss the race the next day and what do you think I began to speak about? You may guess the 750 meter swim in rough water Lake Ponchatrain? Or possibly the 20 mile bike with no shade and possible strong winds? But, maybe you thought we talked about the 3.1 mile run in what was supposed to be an unbelievably hot day? Wrong, wrong, and wrong.

I talked about the after race food! I love red beans and rice. This delectable dish is probably in my top three. Yummy! I told my Momma that it was being prepared by Blue Runner and she informed me that their red beans, while canned, were pretty darn good. We continued speaking about them and the different ways she prepares her red beans and also how a local radio talk show host has a Blue Runner commercial where she talks about adding the holy trinity (celery, onions, green peppers) to her Blue Runner red beans and it comes out better than perfect!

Oh how I was looking forward to completing the race the next day and chowing down on those red beans and rice, umm umm good!

3:45 Am came early. We loaded up and headed to New Orleans. We ran into the Quarter and picked up my Momma and off we go. It was already pretty warm, 80 degrees at 6:00 am.

I set up my transition site and began to stretch lightly. There were a few of my fellow BRtri Club friends there. Rocko, Chris, Matt, Andy E, and Ty.

We headed down to the swim. This is the longest point from water to transition I have seen so far in my short racing career. It was probably 250 to 300 yards up and down hills, over broken oyster shells, and grass. But it was kind of fun, in a weird way. It was a mass start, water had 2 foot waves and there were lots of elbows flying around out there. I came in from the 750m feeling really good, but this scared me since I felt the same way in my last race which I DNF’d (did not finish).

As I was walk/jog/walking to the transition area I had an epiphany. It went something like this; if I go faster I will finish sooner. AH HA!!!!

And . . . I continued to walk to my transition site.

I want people who are considering triathlons to make a mental note here about transitions. For me, they really blow. I can’t stand them. Not because of the changing of gear and clothing, not because you have to worry about other racers knocking your stuff around, none of that makes transitions hard for me.

Down time.

Down time is what makes transitions so difficult for me. I am in the place where I will eventually finish, but I am already here. Why not just . . . stay here? I’m here already? Why not chill?

This is to me something that I, as a fatman must get out of my head. Transitions are not for rest and contemplation. Ah, but once again I saw my little piece of motivation, the blue runner man. Just a stir’n those little red beans. Mmmmm.

So I’m off on my bike. The course is right along the lake and it is actually a nice picturesque route. I was chugging along and noticed I wasn’t feeling a burn at all in my legs, this is very uncommon. I look at my computer . . . I’m going 24 mph. Are you kidding me! Woo Hoo! What could have happened to me? How am I going this fast exerting so little energy? I AM THE MAN! I am somewhere around 4 miles into the ride and I notice, NO ONE is passing me! I am filled with such joy that I start a little song in my head.

OK, hum the Flinston’s song, you know the cartoon. “Flinston’s, we’re the Flinstons . . .

Now put these words in on it: Red beans, red beans and rice, their gonna be so good in my tu-u-mmy! Red Beans, Red beans and rice, I’m gonna be so-o-o ha-a-ppy!

I know it doesn’t fit exactly, but it was working for me at the time.

At about mile 4 we make a loop turn around. I think I almost cried. It wasn’t anything other than; I realized this was all a lie. My happiness . . . a lie. My song writing . . . premature. It was as if I had been punched in the stomach.

You know that 24 mph I was doing, it turned into 12 mph. What I was unaware of was one small little fact. The wind was at my back this whole time. Now, the wind was against me. No more fun ride for me. I began to cramp, ran out of fluids and just wanted to get off my bike and walk home.

I regrouped in my mind. I decided that when the cramp in my leg hamstring became too much I would stop get off the bike, stretch it and then get going again. This worked for me and I soon saw the transition and bike finish.

I want all people to complete triathlons, but I really want fat people to complete them because we need it. So, I will always try and insert the things and situations that cause those of us that are really slow, problems.

As I was pulling into the transition area I realized once again how demoralizing it is to be as slow at this as I am. They had already opened the transition area to everyone. Now the first reason this hurts my psyche is because I get to see all of the people who are finished leave with their bikes, knowing I have to still run. However, I have learned to accept that and enjoy it even thinking of it this way.

My bike transition is like my finish. Hear me out here. There are hundreds of people waiting for me. Now, they may be waiting so they can leave, but . . . their still waiting and they always cheer me on. So it is like my finish.

But this time it was a little dangerous. This is the other part you need to be aware of as a slow competitor. The people in the transition area and those leaving, they don’t realize there is still someone on the course. So they are socializing drinking beer, eating red beans and rice. I had to shout at a few people who were literally in the transition entrance so I could pull in. My new friend Chris might have thought I was yelling at him, but Chris, I wasn’t, it was the people behind you, just kick’n it in the entrance. One person’s dog came up to me while I was putting on my shoes. In some ways it is actually fun.

As I walked to the run start I saw the red beans and rice and a little line of folks waiting for their after race reward or motivation in my case. Ummmm.

I drink a lot of water and energy drinks days before and during a race. I probably consume a gallon of water a day before the race and on race day I go through about 6 squeeze bottles of energy drinks. But for some reason I cramp in the same place all the time. The muscle that starts on the inside of your legs at the knee cap and runs up to the inside of your crotch area. Man do they tick me off.

It was hot.

I probably lost 10 lbs of body water during the run. I walked at least a mile and a half of the 3.1 miles.

Here is another tid bit about being last . . . Way last. The event people rock. They really do. I can’t say enough about how awesome they are and motivating they can be. However, after being out in the heat for 3 hours I can see how they would want to get back and drink a few beers and have some red beans and rice too. So, don’t let it bother you that as you are running the crew is right behind you picking up the cones and loading them as you pass each one. Again, think of it more as your personal escort to the finish line! Woo Hoo!

I run in the last ½ mile. It is not a fast run, but a shuffle run, did I mention it was really hot and I was wearing a dark blue shirt. I am going to find someone who will fabricate clothing for fat tri-athletes. It is the only shirt I could find to fit me that also is of the light mesh, wick material. I would be worse off with a cotton t-shirt. But, have no fear fat people I am going to find someone to suit us up right!

Amanda was waiting for me as she does with apprehension. She has a little clock in here head that if I am not back by the time it goes off, she will begin walking the course to find me. She had made it about 300 yards into the course with the friend of Manatee Express. Manatee is a really cool guy I know from Beginnertriathlete.com he waited for me to finish.

Let me explain what this meant to me. He had to have finished at least an hour and a half before this moment. It was hot. It is a Sunday and there are a lot of things a person can do on a Sunday. But, he waited to see me finish. Thanks man.

In my first triathlon in Birmingham, the Tri-It-On triathlon, there was a guy that was wearing an Army tri suit. He might have known I was ex-military because of my 15 year old tattoo, but none the less he waited for me to finish and cheered me in. Those little things, I will never forget. I will also never leave a race until every person has crossed the finish line. I realized this weekend, how it feels and what it means to me, so if I ever finish with people behind me, no worries, I will wait and cheer you in.

As I top the hill and see the finish line I also notice that the transition area is completely disassembled, except my bike! My Sister Natalie and my Momma are cheering me in, the event staff are cheering me in, the announcer says, “This is what triathlon is all about.” I’m not sure what that means yet, but I am thinking on it. I was on cloud nine.

I finished! I didn’t DNF. I’m BACK! Where’s the red beans and rice?

I looked over where the tent was that held my motivation. Where did he go? Oh no. He was gone. The red beans. The rice.

Gone.

Last lesson of the day for the fat and slow. I have yet to partake in the post race activities when finishing a race. I was able to in Dallas, because I didn’t finish, but I have yet to enjoy the delicacies and fine beer that so many of my felloe tri club members talk about.

All I think of the rest of the day is the Soup Nazi. “No soup for you!” But, that is ok.

It is still one of my motivators. Now I have decided it will still motivate me to . . .

GO FASTER AND FINISH SOONER.

Then I will be able to enjoy the post race activities.

Thanks to all of my new friends in this sport. You all rock. Thanks to my fellow BRtri Club friends, you guys rock.

I will train hared and finish faster and faster each race. Hold me to it.

Weigh in # 4 july 22, 2005

379.2 lbs.

Net gain/loss = (-12.2 lbs)

Previous weigh in: 378 lbs. July 10, 2005

Begining weight: 391.4 June 10, 2005

NEXT weigh in: August 5, 2005

Abitaman Triathlon

http://www.abitaman.com/MY_3.html



Pray for me, that's all I have to say.


July 31, 2005

Weigh in # 3 july 10, 2005

378 lbs.

Net gain/loss = (-13.4 lbs)

Previous weigh in: 382.4 lbs. June 24, 2005

Begining weight: 391.4 June 10, 2005

NEXT weigh in: July 22, 2005

I wished I was invisible . . . Or an Ostrich!

It was a horrible day.

Before I get to my day of racing, let me tell you about the few days leading up to it.

My chest was on fire. It was somewhere around 2:00 AM on Tuesday and I couldn’t stifle my coughing. Amanda rolled every time I had an onslaught of deep, coarse, and grizzly coughing episodes.

I am sick. My head is stuffy, my nose is runny, and my lungs are full of fluid. I had a week off of vacation and I was looking forward to relaxation and sun. Instead, I get sick.

I was able to train until Thursday, but after that I was really in a bad spot.

Friday arrives. I leave Florida, where I go on every 4th of July to spend time with my best friend from college http://www.nku.edu/ and his family. Hurricane Dennis is on our heels and there are lines out the wazoo trying to purchase gasoline and the interstate is bumper to bumper. It takes me much longer than usual to get home. I am tired and sick. I take a 20 minute nap and reload for my drive to Dallas Texas.

After a nap that was entirely too short, Pat’o, my friend riding to Dallas with me arrives. We load his gear and bike and “On the Road Again!” as my friend Willie puts it.

From Baton Rouge to Dallas was 6 hours. We arrive around midnight. Straight to bed after a half bottle of Nyquil . . . I’m a big guy!

I rose from my deep, Nyquil induced sleep around 9:00 AM. Pat’o had already risen and was running around the hotel. I showered; (visual) hacked up my lungs in the steam and prepared for the day. I realized I was in trouble and didn’t know what to do. The next day I had to swim 500m, ride 20 miles, and run 3.1 miles. Today I couldn’t breathe.

Pat’o went swimming with Denise, Johnnie, Kristen, and Susan at the local YMCA. I opted out, thinking I would save energy.

At noon we picked up our race packets and then scurried off to lunch. IT SUCKED.

I am attempting to establish a pattern. The pattern is how messed up the days leading up to this race were.

Denise, Pat’o, and I went to a local bike shop to get a computer for me. This bike shop, SUCKED! The technician there blatantly lied to us and if it weren’t for the ingenuity and creativity between Pat’o and me, the $50 computer would have been useless.

We went to dinner, it was ok.

Night time. Sleep time.

I decided to take a sip of Nyquil. Big mistake. Partly for me, more for Pat’o. I knew I had taken a wrong turn when I woke at 5:00 Am. The walk to the bathroom was long and wobbly. I tried to go to the bathroom, no luck. Shower produced more of the previous days hacking.

My stomach was abnormally twisted.

Side story: My favorite TV show is America’s Funniest Home Video’s. I love it! I enjoy laughing and boy do I laugh during this show. During vacation, my friend Mike’s wife Becki brought me the uncensored version of AFV. We watched it together and one of the video’s is a school teacher reading to his pre-school students. It goes like this . . .

“Then the young girl wrote in her diary, I had such . . .” and the teacher is interrupted by a young child and he says, “Diary?” The teacher pauses and says “Yes, she wrote in her diary tha . . .” The child interrupts again, “I remember when I had diary, I had to sit on the toilet for ever.”

OH MAN!!! I just LAUGHED!!!!!!!!

Side story over: So my stomach is twisted. We get to the transition site. I am sweating like a mule. I am not just a little sweaty, I am drenched with sweat. I prepare my site and head for the john. There is a line twenty deep. I was struggling. Then it hit me!

I have Diary!!!!!!!!!

Oh no. Oh no. OH NO!

I get to the front of the line the port-o-let door opens up and I am in there before the poor girl is out. I am sure she was in fear for her life.

I do the pull down and flop onto the seat. Now, most of those close to me know my fear of public pooping. I can’t do it. I have this horrible phobia and this whole port-o-let thing, it is unheard of for me, but right now, didn’t matter.

It is so hot inside of this plastic oven. There is an inch of my sweat on the floor by now. I am dying from my Diary. Oh man! Kill me now. I am in there for 15 minutes, no less.

Then I realize my biggest mistake of the day.

I must have scared the poor girl in here previous to me so badly, that she was unable to tell me . . . THE IS NO TOILET PAPER!

Oh man.

I sit. I think. I sit. I sweat. I sit, I think about yelling out to someone for assistance. I do this to my wife when she uses the last bit at the house and forgets to replace it. “Honey!” I will yell. “Amanda!!” she always knows the tone of that holler and a small hand slides in the bathroom with a fresh roll.

But, I am at a triathlon, I don’t know anyone in line here at the port-o-let, I am in a really bad spot.

I sit. I think. I sit . . . Maybe I could . . . no, no, no.

AH HA! I always wear a t-shirt right up until the swim begins. BUT, I don’t want to walk around without a shirt from now until the swim! I also don’t want to sit in here for the rest of the day either. I take off my shirt. I got it, tear off a sleeve! RIIIP!

As I put my sweat soaked, ONE SLEEVED T-shirt on and exit the port-o-let, I realize this is a bad day.

“All athlete’s to the swim start.” Was blared over the speaker system.


Again, with the Blue Bermuda swim trunks, I head to the start. I am in the 3rd group. And that group start arrives quickly. Off in the lake of mud I go. I feel great. I am on a steady pace, passing a few people and hitting each buoy in stride. I was making great time and I had no fatigue at all. I exit the water and jog to my bike.

My transition is smooth and I am off. I get up the first two little hills no problem. Then after the first major turn I begin to see spots. My legs are like liquid and my shoulders begin to shake. I am 2 seconds from an upchuck.

I keep cranking. I make the second major turn about 3 miles into the bike. It is an uphill right after the turn. I am almost to the top and I know that there is a long downhill after this short hill, but my head is spinning and I am blacking out. I pull off, get off my bike and suck down some H20. I am in shade and I try to lean against the wooden fence that I eventually become well acquainted with, but as I lean, I fall because the fence is further away than I thought it was.

“Crap” is all I can think. I land in an ant hill. “Crap” again.

I stand, brush off, and drink more water.

I have done this before in my previous races. Take a break, walk the hill, get going again. This was different. I was dizzy and nauseous. I would see black for a second and then feel like I was close to falling again.

I tried to get back on my bike probably four times. Each time the same occurrence, dizziness and nauseous ness.

Once again, the participants of the race were awesome. I heard so many words of encouragement and many questions to see if I was OK.

Each time someone would ask, “You OK?” I would respond with a, “yep.” But, inside, I was like a drunken fraternity kid, playing that game where you put your head on a baseball bat and spin around nine times and then try and run across a field. I was struggling.

Finally, I sucked up my pride, since I realized I would not be able to go anywhere, and requested help.

Let me explain how I felt at this moment.

Everything I had accomplished up to this point . . . didn’t matter. The three triathlon’s I had completed before this one . . . didn’t matter. The weight I have lost (26 lbs so far) didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I was in shambles. I was embarrassed. I was angry. I was sad. I apologized to the guy who had to drive me back. I tried to hide my face as we passed participants on their bikes. I looked down when we arrived back at the transition and spectators stared at me in the passenger seat of the van.

All I could think was that they looked at me and said to themselves, “he had no business even trying to do this triathlon. Look at him.”

I wish I was invisible or an ostrich. I wish I could have buried my head in the sand. I really felt like I had let so many people down. I really felt like I had set back all fat people trying to prove themselves and just get by without being prejudged.

It is about eight hours after the race. Pat’o and I are about 60 miles outside of Baton Rouge. I am still depressed and a little disappointed in myself. I keep thinking I could have pushed myself. I wonder if I could have pushed myself. I don’t think I could have. I am sick. I am on drugs. I have diary.

My friends from the BRtri club tell me to chalk this one up to a bad day. They say we ALL have them.

What I am doing now is attempting to stay positive and motivated to continue in the right direction. I am trying to get this thought out of my head that I am going to suck form here on out.

So, tonight I will suck down more Nyquil and go to work tomorrow. Hopefully I will get better soon. When I do, the next day I will wake early. I will run 3 miles to the LSU rec. center. I will swim 1200m and then I will run 3 miles back home. If I have to walk I will walk, but I will get back on track.

I am still a winner because I am trying. Ooops, tri-ing.

I am a winner because there were many other people that didn’t wake today and do anything to improve their health . . . I did.

Thank you to Pat’o for listening to me complain and beat myself up. Thanks for the words.

Thanks to Susan for telling me she DNF (did not finish) a race last year.

Thanks to Denise, Kristen, and Johnnie for being kind and picking me up by telling me how hard the race was.

I will be back next year. I will conquer. I will be healthier.

One step backwards, two steps forward.

Disco Triathlon!

I am taking suggestions on a race outfit for this event! It must be 100% Polyester and fake gold!

I am looking forward to my first out of town tri with my club, BRtri..

Have a great week everyone, train hard, I'll be thinking about you all while I'm on the beach this week.

http://www.dallasathletes.com/showarticle.asp?id=35

tri-ing fatman

Yam City-Road Kill!

"like a chiwawa in a pit-bull fight"

http://www.lafayettefitness.org/Results/2005%20YAM%20CITY%20TRI%20OVERALL.HTM


(Proofed)

4:00 AM came early! But, was welcomed.

After a brief “warm-up” shower, I gave Amanda a little whisper to wake up and get the others up for me.

Terry, my father in law is still repairing and fixing our house and Thad, my little brother and his fiancée, Camille are here to see me in my third, yes I said it, my 3rd triathlon!!

As I was loading my bike onto the rack I became worried. You see, last night I had to switch the wheels from my Trek to this one. Why? Since you asked, I did this because after attempting to change the tubes on my Special ed (specialized) bike and I pinched both tubes and then found out there was a pin hole in the rear tire. Woo Hoo!

After consultation form a fellow tri-friend and club member of BRtri, I switched the tires out and said a short prayer.

Well, this morning I couldn’t help but think of all the things that could go wrong with this switch a roo.

We met up at GW and Doggie’s house at 4:45 AM and off we go! Gw, Doggie, Bashfull (one of the cutest children I have met) and Pat’o in one vehicle, Neal, Will (Jocko the Rocko we will address that later), and Reagan in one vehicle, a sleeping Amanda, Terry, Thad, and Camille in my vehicle. AND WE’RE OFF!

The reason I’m sharing detailed information about the individuals traveling with and participating in this event as members of the BRtri Club is essential for my story.

You see this is my first tri in Louisiana and amongst my new friends. As cool as I try and play it, I am nervous as a chiwawa in a pit-bull fight!!!
But I don’t think I ever let on to the fact that I was so nervous.

Once we arrived in Opelousas I became a bit more jittery. I hope this feeling one day goes away, however before each race (this being my third) I have become nauseous. This morning I had a snickers because I didn’t want to feel as I did in my two previous races, but heck, next time I’m going to stop off and have a waffle with Nipps since it doesn’t seem to matter, I feel sick no matter what is in my stomach.

I unload my bike and the first person I see is JLO!!! My nemesis of the Yam City Triathlon!!!! JLO challenged me on our BRtri forum. She said she was going to kick my butt, even though I’m a fatty she is still older. (Those are more my words than hers, she didn’t use “fatty” for her descriptive wording) When I saw her I wanted to belt out an “I’m gone kick your butt” kind of statement, but a simple, “Hey” is all I could muster up. She smiled and said hi to me.

Then I saw Michael Pate. I was really excited to see him.

http://www.whenbigboystri.com/

I was told about Mike (as I call him) by an http://www.beginnertriathlete.com/default.asp
member and went to his website, which I posted above.

I was so inspired by Mike. You see, before I saw his site, I thought it would be months and many many pounds lost before I should even think about attempting a triathlon. After emailing Mike and reading about him, that is when I decided to do my first tri.

Thanks Mike. You are a big part of my life change.

Mike and I chatted a bit and I became completely endeared to him. I made a friend for life. The funny thing was when he relayed to me that he had been called Chris on several occasions that morning!!!

He is a good-looking guy.

As the race start came closer I began to shrug off some of my jitters and even mustered up a shot at JLO. It went something like, “HEY! JLO” and when she looked up, “YOU’RE MINE!” she laughed, which was appropriate since she cleaned the track with my face! But, I didn’t feel so bad; she whipped a lot of other people too.

Congrats JLO. One day . . . One day.

As I slipped on my, once again “signature” bright blue Bermuda swim trunks and put in my earplugs, I realized I wasn’t nervous anymore????? I think it is the power of the shorts. It must be. Amanda and I decide that even when I have lost the 201 lbs. I am shooting for, I will still wear these swim trunks.

My friend Will (Jocko) was 4th in the swim start. This means he is SUPER FAST!!! Or, as he relayed to us standing in line, he just wrote down a number someone from the LSU swim team gave him. I wonder if he regrets that today?

I was 47 and Neal was 48 just behind me. I was sort of nervous again, since I had a feeling I was ahead of my skill level too (NOT SAYING WILL WAS!!!) and I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

Sorry Neal.

About mid way through the swim I was feeling pretty good. I felt Neal on my butt and felt bad, but then I noticed we were both right on top of the person in front of me. This is no disrespect to that individual because we all have our good and bad days, but . . .

IT SURE FELT GOOD!!!!

I went to pass him on the left and all of the sudden Neal passes him on the right! WOOSH!!! We both fly by him. Then Neal goes on to fly through the remainder of the swim, leaving me in his wake, literally.

I semi jogged to the transition. I got through the transition fairly well and off I went.

It was nice to see Doggie and Vanilla with his children there at the bike start. But, that soon turned to embarrassment when I couldn’t get my darn shoes to clip in!!! I almost ran a poor woman off the road and while I was trying to apologize I almost ran into the curb and off into the grass and who knows where I would have ended up.

I got my wits about me and finally clipped in.

Now. I have an idea for the name of next years Yam City Triathlon.

YAM CITY-ROAD KILL TRIATHLON!!!!

I am sure I was the only one that had this problem since I was the only one on the flattest course in triathlon history to have my head buried in my chest trying to make my pedals move! I couldn’t believe I was struggling on the course. When I say flat, I mean play hockey on it, flat or glass flat. But, here I was head down chugging away!

Road kill on a highway is expected, obviously. When I tell you that I hit every one of them, I am not lying. I needed to lift my head so I could see 10 feet in front of me, but I was beat and then BUMP BUMP~! BUMP BUMP!

Crap, I hit another one!

I may take it upon myself next year to go out the day before the race with a shovel. I think that I could save a minute or maybe to in the race if I wouldn’t have missed one or two of the thirty road kill speed bumps out there!!!!

But, I was still having fun!!!

The roads were awesome. Smooth, not hot from the sun yet, almost perfect. Then we hit the frontage road for about 2 miles. My wrist hurt as I am writing this because of that stretch of the course. The only good news about that portion of the course was that I was only passed by about 3 or 4 people as opposed to the rest of the course where I was passed about every minute and a half.

I SEE IT!!! THE FINISH OF THE BIKE!!!!

After a few brief photo opportunities, which I am known for, it was down to business.

T2!

I waddled to my spot, hung my bike on the rack, which later I think pissed GW off. I think I let it fall in her way?

Sorry GW.

Then I went to the task of getting ready for the run. Oh boy. Now, let me explain. As I am changing shoes, taking off my helmet, all that jive, in my mind, I am moving at the speed of light!!!

When we watched it on the handy cam last night . . . HA!!!!! You would have thought the race was over and I was winding down getting ready to eat the Jambalaya they had prepared for us!!! I was moving like pond water!!

GW, came in about a minute after me and was gone about 3 minutes before me!

THEN IT HAPPENED! My one “dumb-dumb” act of the race. I jump up glasses going on and . . .

“Oh Crap” you hear through the TV as we watched the recording. Then you hear a small giggle from the individual recording the episode, my wife Amanda.

I put on my running shorts . . . Forgot to take off my cycling shorts!

After a quick re-change I was off to the run.

I decided before the race I was going to do my spurt running. This is where I pick out a telephone pole and then another down 50 yards or so. I start running as hard as I can at the first one and stop and walk after the second. Then I do it again after 100 yards or so.

At about the 1 mile mark I noticed I was in a familiar neighborhood. Then I recognized a home that I have been in a few times as one of my clients home, Harold!

I have never seen this look on a volunteer’s face before. She couldn’t believe what was transpiring before her very eyes.

I ran into his yard, rang his doorbell and said hello!

He was happy to see me, and then off I went.

Harold and his wife are absolutely wonderful people and I was glad to share that moment with him.

I caught up to Mike Pate about 200 yards later and he was having a problem with his left calf. It was cramping pretty bad on him.

DO NO GET ME WRONG, I was in no way slacking up or kicking his butt or anything like that, but I made a decision to stick with him and finish together. He adopted my spurt running and before you know it, we were coming to the last turn before the finish.

I have been telling everyone how motivating this sport is. I have been telling everyone how awesome the people in this sport have been, I have been telling everyone the friendships I have made since adventuring into the world of triathlons.

This is where my explanations are put into examples.

As Mike and I cam around that corner, I saw a bunch of skinny, muscular, men and women in orange and blue tri uniforms standing there. I don’t have prescription sunglasses so at first I wasn’t sure what was going on, but it came to me quickly as a I heard my name.

“Come on Chris! Yea, Chris!”

It was the BRtri club members who had participated in the Yam City Tri and also those who came to see the race. They were all about 150 yards from the finish and they were waiting to cheer me on.

If I weren’t such a macho-man . . .

I felt such a strong feeling of acceptance and caring. It didn’t matter how fat I was at that moment. It didn’t matter that I worry so much about how people perceive me and my obesity. I don’t think anything mattered at that moment. I had two thoughts:

I want to run in with Mike.

I want to run in hard.

The two didn’t coincide with one another.

Mike told me to go ahead.

What transpired next is so funny!

As I was gasping for air, running as hard as I could at the moment and JLO was screaming at me to suck it up! I was trying to motivate Mike. HA!!!!!

It was this feeble attempt at a bad sports movie like Rocky XII or something where his corner is yelling at him to keep fighting!!!! YOU CAN DO IT ROCKY!!!!

I am yelling back at Mike, “Come on man, don’t stop running on me!” I sound like a bad sports script! All the while I am close to passing out.

And need I mention that during this, JLO is basically running backwards yelling at me to kick it up a notch!!

Oh, what a moment!!! Oh how I laughed when watching the recording, oh how I laughed.

I will work on my inspirational, motivational, and empowering finishing quotes for the future. But, you have to remember one thing here. This was a first for me.

My goal coming into the race was one thing.

NOT TO FINISH LAST.

Thank you all.

Thank you Doggie, I heard you in the swim. I like the road-dog name, can I keep it?

Thank you Vanilla for reminding me not to stop too frequently for photo those opportunities.

Thank you JLO, for making my race slightly competitive, even though I knew I had no chance, even if you are old enough to be my Mom.

Thank you, to all of the people passing me on the bike like I was standing still. Your words of encouragement were awesome and needed, sadly.

Thank you family for waking so early for something that gave you no benefit.

Thanks to the entire BRtri club. YOU GUYS ROCK!!!!! I am so proud to be associated with such a cool group of people.

As I sat there on the cooler holding my purple socks that I had won as a door prize, I thought about the day.

I am a lucky person. But, I think so many of you can be as lucky as me.

It may not me triathlons. It may be just a walk around the block or not eating fast food for a month. What ever it is, you can be as lucky as I feel today. It only takes one thing.

Reach out to those around you. Tell them your goals. Make yourself accountable to them. Start a Blog. Write down you goals. Then . . .

Do it.

You will be amazed. I want you to succeed. I know how miserable you are. I know how you feel when your pants wont button with out the jaws of life assisting you. I know how you feel in public. I know how intimidated you are by healthy looking people. I know how you cry at times in despair. I know what you are thinking when you’re hungry right after you have just eaten Chinese Buffet!!! I KNOW!!! I KNOW!!!!

I also know how I feel today. You can do it! I will do what ever I can to help you, but try out your own family. Your own friends. Make new friends if yours won’t help you.

I am still one big fat, sloppy dude. I see it in the mirror everyday. I see it in the video from the race just yesterday. I am only about 25 pounds lighter than I was 6 weeks ago. I don’t look any different in my own eyes, even though Amanda tells me she sees weight loss. It doesn’t matter, because I still see a big fat, sloppy guy.

But, one thing has changed. One thing that makes me smile.

I am doing something about it and people know that and they are taking time to invest in my success. I am asking for help on occasion, but for the most part they are volunteering their help and motivation.

It will take a long time for me to lose 210 lbs (185 now) and I screw up daily. Just now I had an iced Mocha and ham and cheese croissant. I am pissed at myself, but I will make it up on the run tomorrow. I will run an extra mile.

6 weeks ago, I couldn’t run 25 feet. I am not exaggerating. 25 feet!

YOU CAN DO IT!

Finally, to address my goal . . .

My goal for the Yam City Tri was . . . Not to finish last.

Doggie went to the times and found my time.

He came to me and told me there were only 124 times posted so far.

I was 120. I WAS 120!!!

I was . . . 120.

120.

Weigh In # 2 June 24, 2005

Sacle time

382.4 lbs.

Net gain/loss = (-9.4 lbs!)

Previous Weigh In #1 June 10, 2005
391.8 lbs.

next weigh in: July 8, 2005

Being Fat is too Easy.

Heaven

I quit smoking about 10 years ago. It was easy.

Why can't losing weight be the same way?

6 hours for that!

mantis!

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

Two hours into our drive home I am questioning my sanity while Amanda is asking me if I need a sprite to settle my stomach.

I am in the backseat of our vehicle, headphones on listening to Dave all the while doing my best to keep from going into what I have defined as the praying mantis. For those Kung Fu aficionados, I am not referring to the deadly fighting style used by Yu Son Lee Poc, in the classic, Dueling Dragons and fighting cheetah.

My particular “praying mantis” would be when I am sitting, quietly in my assigned spot, causing no problems, staring off into the pines that line the side of I-59 South. As I am sitting, smartly, I begin to posture and skillfully take shape into THE PRAYING MANTIS!

You should not, I repeat, NOT attempt this feat, unless like me, you are a professional at the extremely perplexing and contortionistic act. However I understand that many will want to understand HOW the praying mantis came to be.

Here are the prerequisites: Number one you must be in top shape, as I am, round. Two, keep yourself, improperly hydrated. Three and possibly most important, choose an activity that will use every ounce of energy to the point where your body practically collapses, such as a marathon, the Tour De France, or like this most current activity, a teeny tiny sprint triathlon. Four, do not prepare for your activity properly with training, stretching, or proper hydration leading up to your chosen event.

It is not necessary to complete your event, however somehow I was able to flail my body across the finish line today, but if you can’t you simply need to follow the practically collapsing portion of part three.

Once you have reached that point you need only wait.

The power of the praying mantis will take you over mind and spirit. Oh I almost forgot to mention, physically, it will take you over physically as well.

The praying mantis is extremely successful if you can put your aching, deprive, beaten body into an area that has limited moving space. For example the backseat of your vehicle. That one works beautifully! Once you are in that confined space . . . just wait with patience, the mantis will come.

I won’t make you wait until you try this on your own to understand how it works, so, how about I share with you my most recent experience!!!! 15 minutes ago!!!

As I was staring out of the window, thinking about holding down the lunch we had after my tri, I began to slip off into a gentle sleep. How soothing. I was calm and relaxed for the first time all day. My head leaned slightly to the right as my sleep began to deepen. Heaven! I needed this after the night I had before the race. Heaven . . .

“AH AH, oh crap, oh oh, ah!” The mantis had arrived. At the back of my left knee a slight cramp that strengthened and ripped me out of my sleep. The band that runs on the outside, back part of your knee felt as though it were on fire! I threw my leg over to the other seat across from me and rushed to it with both hands. I began to try and straighten it while rubbing, no luck. Amanda is looking at me in the rearview mirror. Her look is inquisitive but, not the concerned inquisitive . . . The, “what the heck are you doing?” inquisitive.

I am doing everything I can do, rubbing it, trying to straighten it, hitting it, yelling at it, and begging it. My last resort was going to be cry at it.

But the power of the mantis is much stronger than me. I warn you. It only takes seconds for the praying mantis to take control. For me, today, it was mini-seconds.

As I continued to respond to my knee area, suddenly the muscle that goes from your hip to your knee began to cramp aggressively. “OH!!!!!” I rush to it like the paramedic did to me, with his defibrillator as I crossed the finish line!

Just as I reached it and began to rub, my knee gave me a painful reminder that my assistance was needed there. Back to the knee, but the hip cramp pain began to increase! BACK to the hip! But, as I was in mid transition, my hamstring of my left leg roared with pain! By now my father in law, he is giving me that same look as my wife. I lean my body over the leg trying to stretch out the cramp, but alas, I couldn’t defeat the mantis. I knew it was only a matter of time.

As I leaned and prayed, my right forearm took shape. The mantis was almost complete! The muscle reeled in my hand beginning with my little finger until it was practically touching the muscle that was pulling it in.

I grabbed it with my other hand and tried to force it back to shape! In a panic I cried out as the warrior that I am! As defeat was imminent my face became stern, lips clenched together is defiance, I focused. Poising for one last charge! “RAAAAHHHHH!”

“OO, OOOO, owe, ouch, ooo!”

The transformation was complete. You may wonder how I know this? It’s not difficult, really.

As I lay half across the captain chairs and clutter strewn about the floor. One leg cocked back the other almost under me. One hand in front of my chest bent down in horror, the other trying not to succumb to the same peril. Amanda asks, “Are you O.K.?” It’s not as much what she asked, more the look on her face as she asked it. “Yea, honey, fine.” My teeth gritted together. “It’s just the . . . praying mantis”. She understood.

She understood.

My body continued to give into the power of the mantis for another 10 minutes before it was released from its grips.

Now the remaining question. 6 hours there, 6 hours back. 3hr 11min 12 sec for a 600y open lake swim, 15 miles hilly bike, and 3 mile run. Was it worth it?

NO DOUBT ABOUT IT!

My swim went great. I ran in the water in my signature, neon blue Bermuda trunks. I began slow building up at each buoy. I wasn’t passed and passed several participants, knowing I would soon see their backs as they flew by me on the bike. I was full of wind at the end, ready to embrace the biggest challenge of this tri, the bike.

I started strong, I was surprised considering I spent the night losing my cookies and no sleep. I think it was nerves? I flew by several people while riding at a moderate pace and on the first downhill, I probably flew by 15 riders, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before the mountains took me over. Did I mention this race was at Oak MOUNTAIN State Park?

Again, I had to walk a few hills. But I rode my older bike with some good response, but a few were way too much for this fat boy! I questioned myself quite a few times on the bike, wondering if I really want to become a triathlete. Maybe I should get a trainer, not sports, just exercise? But I wasn’t allowed to think that way for long periods because some one would yell motivation to me. When someone tells you “You’re the man for just being here! Get going!’ How can you stop? Over and over again the motivation poured in overwhelming me.

As I hit mile 12 I suddenly gain a second breeze, not a wind, but at that point it was very welcomed. I surprised myself. I impressed myself. I churned out rotation after rotation, huffing along, head up, and determined. This last loop turn around was at the entrance of the park. As I made the loop heading to the transition most people were done and leaving. They would stop their vehicles and cheer me on and push me. They will never know how emotional that kindness at a much needed time meant to me. Thank you.

The hill in the last mile was killer. It became so difficult that as I was walking up it I decided to throw my bike on my back. IT WAS EASIER! I’m 390 pounds, what are 9 pounds going to matter?! I reached the peak, stumbled on my bike and road into the transition area about ¼ mile down.

Amanda, and Terry were running and screaming! I love my wife like nothing else. Her support in this endeavor is unmatched. To my wife, “you’re the best. Period.”

Let me tell you how disheartening it is when you ride in and they are breaking down the transition area! Woo! Man! But, I’m not about competing right now, come on, I am 390 lbs. I outweighed the CLOSEST person by an easy 175 pounds. Complete, not compete.

I got both of my transitions done much faster than my first tri. Just takes time and experiences.

Here was where I had my largest problem. My running shoes are on, helmet off, I begin to run. Holly cow! Both legs began to cramp. The large muscle to the inside of your knee cap that runs all the way up to you pelvis area. Both of those burned each time my feet hit the ground. At this point I was truly unsure whether or not I could finish. It wasn’t a matter of mental fatigue. I wasn’t being a wuss. I was in massive pain. They handed me two cups and I chugged down the liquids, it was powerade. It was amazing; the cramps went away right then.

I walked a lot on the run. An about mile 2 the cramps came back again with a vengeance. I would stop and stretch, rub but, no use. I said to myself, “just gotta go big boy. Just gotta go.” I did. One foot at a time and then I saw it. There was the lake! I knew the finish line was on the beach where we started the swim. I dug deep, took a long breath and pushed my pace literally as high as I could. My legs were on fire. My neck began to cramp and my eyes began to glaze. I slipped in and out of the moment. Some times I was in my own head in that last 100 yards and other times I took in the cheers from those left, which later I found out several people stayed to see me finish.

I crossed the finish in a flail as I said in the previous diatribe. About 200 yards out my racing belt fell down around my ankles. At this point all I could remember was the race leader banishing anyone who didn’t have on their race numbers. I ran with the belt around my ankles for about 40 yards and gave up on it. The cramps in my legs made me hobble run and twist. The cramp in my neck caused me to lean my head hard to the right and the look on my face I’m sure told my story. I got about 15 feet past the finish and the paramedic rushed over with the freaking defibrillator!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

When I caught a glimpse of him and figured out he was coming to check on me, I jumped up with my hands raised high and let out my warrior cry!!!!! “RAAAAAAAAAHH!” He backed off and smiled at me.

I am a fat man. I want to change my life. I am doing it. But, the beauty is, I am doing it and having fun. The power of the praying mantis is strong, but he doesn’t last for long and the strength this sport is giving me will one day, defeat the mantis.

Thank you to my new friends in the sport. You inspire me to “be great”. You help me when you don’t have to and you give without knowing.

Thank you,

Fat Man tri-ing

We're off to Buster Britton in Birmingham

Amanda, my father in law, Terry and I are heading to Birmingham for a real challenge. If you want to put in a little prayer to your particular faith or just send positive thoughts my way about 8:00 AM Sunday Morning, I'll take it!

http://www.team-magic.com/tmtri/bbtri.htm

Tri-ing fat man

Weigh In #1 June 10, 2005

391 lbs.

Next weigh in: June 24, 2005

My first triathlon . . . Tri-it-on

Man what a welcome
http://www.team-magic.com/tmtri/sftri.htm

Have you ever been in a state of mind where you were able to live an event before it actually happened?

Some people call it ESP, some call it deja-voo, espN even, and a few of you, you know who you are, think you've actually lived this life before. OK.

I had that experience, not living this life before I don't think, but the whole deja-voo thing just before my first triathlon. Let me tell you, what an experience.

It is 3:30 AM the morning of my race. WAIT!!! STOP RIGHT THERE!!! I need to clarify, HA! Race!! Oh man, I'm killing myself here! OK, done.

It is 3:30 AM the morning of my . . . a lot of other people's race, and my attempt at not losing control of one of 2 or 5 bodily functions, which I came to find was quite difficult. I woke in a startled, wide-eyed, looking around the room kinda way. You know, as if I really had to go to the bathroom, or someone was knocking on my front door.

I didn't have to go to the bathroom. I was at my Dad's house in Birmingham and the place was as quiet as could be. So what in the heck woke me so abruptly? I laid there. There were no sounds at all, we were in the guest room in the basement. Let me again clarify. My Stepmother would be horrified if anyone thought she had a guest room in the basement. Their basement is the equivalent of the nicest part of my house and that ain't shabby, but it is quiet.

For me, there is nothing worse that total silence. I enjoy peace and quiet, but not dead silence, this was that. As I drifted back into my sleep, my subconscious or whatever, began to reveal a dream I must have been having and that I was slowly drifting back into. It was a weird experience. I seemed to be half awake and half asleep, but I was able to recount this dream much better in this state of mind.

Then suddenly I began to, in my sub-conscious, remember this dream. And I continued to move forward in the dream as I was remembering the beginning of it. Go with me here.

The sun had been up for a couple hours. I had a difficult time sleeping so I went ahead and awoke and began prepping for the day that laid ahead. I went through my beginner triathlete check list. Filled my water bottles. Bodygluide, helmet, swim cap. check, check, check.

Amanda was still sound asleep, she would hate for me to say it, but this is my blog not hers. She was doing that cute little Amanda snore that doesn't really know if it is a snore or just heavy breathing so it comes out as both.

I pace around the down stairs, eat a power bar and begin to psych myself out . . . I mean up! "OK, who cares if you're 250 pounds heavier than the next person." I thought gingerly. "So what if you are going to wear your neon blue Bermuda swimsuit and you know all the other people are gonna be wearing slim tight fitting spando thingys." I was more trying to support myself than psych myself up.

Thank goodness Dad came down the stairs because another 15 minutes of that and I would have talked myself right out of it. "Well, you ready?" Dad asked with a big ole grin. Ok, maybe he didn't have to come down if he was just gonna ask that. "Yea, I think so, we'll see." I couldn't have been more confident!

We're in the car, Amanda is giving me sweet inspiration, I'm pissed because we're running a little behind. I snapped at her at least 3 times, she just continued to smile.

What happens next, you may have a difficult time with, but the story has to be told to show my emotional shape as I began my FIRST triathlon.

As we drove up to the event site in Birmingham at First Sports. I began to see hordes of people. I began to feel sick at my stomach questioning everything about myself and then I caught a shot of one of the posters this small child was carrying while walking with his Mom.

It was a large white poster board with the words "Fat Guys" and it had the universal "NO" sign through it, you know the RED circle with the RED line through it.

What the . . . ! I don't think Amanda saw it.

We found a parking spot. I sat for a second wondering what in the world I could be thinking and then headed to the transition area. I unloaded the bike threw my bag over my shoulder and began the trek up to the area for marking and as I was not 5 feet from my vehicle I heard a voice say, "That's him, that's the guy." it came from around the corner of this big RV, so I made sure I turned to corner to see who they were talking about. I didn't know if there was a celebrity guest participant or what.

Me.

They were talking about me. The giggles gave it away as I looked in their direction.

What the . . . !

Amanda was beginning to catch on to the surroundings and pointed out a poster sign that said "No Fat Guys in our TRI!" Her eyes were as big around as I have ever seen them as she turned slowly and made me aware of it. "Is that a joke?" she asked.

Remember, I play Rugby too, that would be a typical thing at a rugby match, but there are several, SEVERAL, fatties on a rugby team. Again, not as fat as me, but a few are close. You need the extra push'n in the scrum.

I told her I wasn't sure what was going on and assured her that EVERY ONE I had spoken to that participates in triathlons has been very supportive and we pressed on.

As if a bullet had been shot from a rifle and hit me square between the eyes, it hit me. As I entered the actual transition area the entire group became dead silent. Remember what I said about peace and quite VS dead silence? This was dead silence.

I looked around at them. I know I had the look of a sullen child lost in a Macy's Department store looking for my Mom.

They just stared. I could feel the eyes on me. It felt like weights on my body. I was becoming weak by their stares.

"GO HOME!"

I heard a voice from the other side of the guest area.

"WE DON"T WANT YOU HERE!"

I looked around for my wife! She was as dazed and confused as I was. We gave each other that look of bewilderment and our eyebrows both curved up in astonishment at the same time.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" The voices began to multiply and the stares turned into glares.

Amanda was being engulfed by the swarm of people beginning to chat in unison.

"NO FAT GUYS!" Again "NO FAT GUYS!" Over and over and over.

Amanda was screaming my name but, all I could see of her were her tiny hands sticking through the mass of screeching faces!

I had no where to go. I fought them off. I punched, I kicked, I even jumped on top of a van and ran to Amanda as she pushed her way into the clear.

But they were fast. Come on, they are triathletes for goodness sakes, I didn't stand a chance.

I gave in. I threw down my bag. I threw up my hands. I gave them the look of death and . . .

I spat in their general direction!

AND I SAID . . .

TAKE YOUR STINKING TRIATHLON AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR A . . . (My Mom may read this)

You may think that this was one of the worst things that could happen to a guy? I don't know? I don't. I think it was the BEST thing that could have happened to me.

Because it was the only thing that woke me up in time to get my wife out of bed in her clothes and get us rushing out of the door because the race was starting in 20 minutes!!!!!!

If it weren't for that horrible dream, I may have slept through the race! That will teach me not to bring my own alarm clock!

The good news is that the event could not have been more supportive. The participants were motivating and supportive. The race was very tough, but I managed to hold my cookies (sort of) and I finished to a wealth of applause and cheers!

It is a great sport with great people and I am so glad I woke up.

Fat Man Tri-ing