Wednesday, June 25, 2014

That time, at Tough Mudder...

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So yeah.

It happened.

And I lived.

But my knee and hip are clicking, the blister on my right baby toe is eating my entire foot, the bulging disc in my back is screaming "YOU BITCH!!?!" at me, and my knees are swollen and bruised to hell.

I finished Tough Mudder Whistler. All but my hubby went on ahead. I went through cold water, and ran up at half pipe, and crawled underground. I walked most of it, to make sure I had a chance at finishing. I crawled a fair bit. But I got it done.

My soft, mushy, non-running, non-athletic ass actually succeeded at something bigger than I ever thought I could do. I keep trying to talk it down in my head, like it didn't count because I didn't run it, and I didn't complete the wall-climbing or carrying obstacles (my chiro said NO WAY, because I irritated a nerve or two and had disc issues from a back injury a week before the race).

Anyway, I still suck at blogging. My girl will be 13 months old tomorrow. I'm hurting. I'm out of shape and my body goes berserk when I try to exercise. I need a physiotherapist.

But I F*CKING FINISHED a 19.2km race (12 miles), with a 2km walk to the start line, on top of it, and a 1.5 hour wait to even begin the race.

Yes. THIS HAPPENED.


For once, I didn't quit. I didn't let my body talk me out of it.
Thanks Momma, for encouraging me to do it, even injured.
I count this a very proud achievement in my life, especially in light of the illness, infection, surgeries and nerve damage that has comprised the last 13 months of my life.

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Thursday, May 1, 2014

Tough Mudder Whistler: It Was Nice Knowing You All

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So... yeah.

I am not fit.
I am fat.
I have no muscle tone.
I get dizzy walking up the stairs.
I had surgery in February that resulted in nerve damage in my abdomen.
It hurts to lift things and carry things and I'm not supposed to exercise using my ab muscles.

Oh... and I signed up for Tough Mudder Whistler.

I paid my non-refundable $160ish before I had my follow up with the surgeon. It goes without saying that I didn't quite expect the news he delivered to me.

Since signing up, I've seen the course profile. It is, in a word, terrifying. In several words, it's holy shit what I have I done I'm pretty sure I won't live to see my baby again.

Um, hi 16km mark. W.T.F.!?!???!??!


Look at his face. Now imagine what his balls must look like.


I wanted a challenge. My other Mama friends had decided to give 'er a go, so I thought it would be an excellent goal to work towards. A reason to run some of this baby fat off my frame. I'm not saying that I weigh only 10 pounds less than when I was 8 months pregnant, and I'm not saying that I still mix in maternity pieces into my wardrobe... I'm just saying that not being able to use my abs, coupled with all the health issues in the past 18 months, has rendered me quite... {{soft}}.

What's the big deal, you ask? Well, there are also obstacles along the course. So, barring the fact that my current treadmill record is 5.2km and 19km will likely kill me, all along the route energy will be expended doing things like swimming through a massive container of ice water (the "arctic enema"), getting electrocuted ("electroshock therapy"), and having to crawl facing the sky, in water, breathing through chain link fence. Seriously.

This is f*cking terrifying.

I actually lose sleep at night over it when I think about it. I really want to accomplish something that says I am strong again. My body works again. I can push past the obstacles, both physical and mental. And, you know, likely not walk right or be able to lift the baby up for the next two weeks as I recover in an ever-refilling bath of epsom salts while drinking some malbec straight out of the bottle. #ClassyMom.

You can bet your ass it's going to make an awesome blog post, even if it's "Hey, our car broke down on the way", or "I twisted my ankle putting my shoes on at the start line"... but still.

Anyone ever completed a Tough Mudder race? Tough Mudder Whistler? I'm mostly excited about bunking in a condo with two other couples and their babies. I'd say my priorities are in order, no?

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Thursday, April 3, 2014

The Queen of Farts?

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Whenever I'm feeling particularly gross about my body, I just think about Kate Middleton, aka Duchess Kate blowing a huge fart into her hand, running over to Prince William, and cup-a-farting that baby into his face.

In my mind, she then skips away, laughing maniacally. Not sure if he refers to her as Babykins in a situation like that or not.

Then, I feel a teeeeensy bit better about things.

I mean, everyone poops, but if royalty cup-a-farts, then all is not lost.


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