The Celebration of Life

Noah James Hiebert’s Celebration of Life will be held on Saturday November 28th at 10AM at Oliver’s Funeral Home (10005 107 Ave, Grande Prairie, AB T8V 1L8).

There will be a luncheon held after the non-denominational service. Semi-formal is preferred but really your presence is appreciated no matter what you choose to wear.

Thank you to everyone for all of the beautiful words of support. It is beyond overwhelming to see how loved and appreciated Noah was by so many.

** If you would like to donate to help us cover the expenses of the service, my lovely friend Jill set us up a GoFundMe, you can find it here


And the waves crash down.

My little boy is gone. He passed away in his sleep this morning.

I keep swinging between forgetting and remembering.

So much of this was reminiscent of when we were in the hospital when he was born, it’s weird.

I was supposed to take him to my parents’ house today  so that he could get a haircut.

I woke up and saw a text from my mom, cancelling on me. I said, can we do it Wednesday? And she said she worked every day besides Sunday now (she used to have Wednesdays off).

I looked at the next text message, and it was my friend wishing me a good morning. I texted him back asking him what his plans were for this afternoon, as I have to work at 5 and was now not taking Noah for a haircut.

My next text message was from Caleb, and it said “Call me right away!”, sent 1.5 hours before. I assumed he was mad at me for something. I called him back and he didn’t answer. I was just texting him saying that I was sorry I had missed his call as I was sleeping in, when he called me back.

I thought he was joking. He said, I would never joke about something like that. I said, no, you wouldn’t. He said that the police were there, and victim services.

I told him that I would be right there.

Then I screamed in a tone that I have never heard from myself. I was hysterical. I could barely stand. I got my roommate to drive me to Caleb’s (Caleb had mentioned getting someone to drive me, I hadn’t even thought of that).

My logical brain took over and I posted on the Facebook group for my work, asking if someone could take my shift tonight and possibly tomorrow.

When we were told that he was being airlifted, my logical brain took over there too.  I knew that I *needed* to find the hospital social worker so that she could connect me with the social worker at the Stollery, and I *needed* to find my doctor so that I could be discharged early…. Very much like, “okay, I need to do this, this, and this, in this order”.

I also emailed his teacher. Because logical brain told me that he’s supposed to go to school tomorrow, so they should know. Because any time that he’s ever missed school, I’ve emailed the teacher to let her know. And I didn’t want to call her right before school tomorrow, she has to put on a happy face for two different classes of kids, I figured giving her some time would be the best. She’s been with Noah for three years now.

There was a woman there for some reason, I’m not sure what her role specifically was, but she handed me a folder with pamphlets/information booklets from the various local funeral homes in it. I opened it a little and the first one on the top was the same funeral home that the hospital had given us the number to when we brought him home. We chose that one.

I laid on  his bed with him. His face looked like so many stillbirth baby pictures I’ve seen. For some reason it never occurred to me that that’s what everyone’s face would look like. I pointed that out to the victim’s services lady (she accompanied me into his room), and she told me the scientific reasoning behind it. I said something like, “that’s the science,  Noah”.

My brain is weird.

I had to make a statement to the police. The policeman said that it is very common for children with his condition to pass like that. I knew that already, from years of being in HIE groups.

We had to decide if we wanted an autopsy or not. We chose not to.

They called the funeral home for us to arrange for his transfer.

I had to call my parents. My mother was hysterical. Caleb started crying again when I said those words.

I told my birth club. I remember telling them about when we took Noah off life support when we were in the hospital.

I told another group that I’m close to.

I told my HIE group.

The funeral home workers showed up.  My parents wanted to see him before he was moved. So the workers waited outside.

My parents and sister showed up.

The funeral home workers came inside again, and moved him. I watched them load him up and put him in their vehicle. They had wrapped him in the blankets he slept on. The blankets that his Auntie Olivia made for him before he was even born.

When he was born he was immediately sent to the NICU and I sent Caleb up with him while I got stitched up. This was the opposite. Caleb was downstairs and I went up and watched him go. I had to make sure he was safe.

I called a few of my friends. I messaged a few others.

My parents drove me home. I had a shower and ate. A friend came over.

Another one is staying with me tonight.

Today is bizarre. It feels like I have two different brains, and logical brain is the only one around right now. Emotional brain keeps coming in at random times and asking if this is real.

Logical brain is letting me function.

My sweet baby boy is gone.




More Changes

As of about two weeks ago, I officially rented my first apartment :) it’s a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom (!) condo, with an outdoor power parking stall and an underground parking stall included. There’s also an exercise room in the building! It’s a cute little place and it’s nice to not feel like a hobo anymore.

Mentally and emotionally, things are difficult. I feel like in general we are fed this storyline of life, where we are supposed to grow up, find someone, fall in love, marry them, have their babies, and live happily ever after. I thought I found that at 19 years old. I was wrong and now what? What do you do when you’ve been in that stable type of relationship for so long and now you’re not?

I think the biggest thing is that I have let my hobbies go in the process. I had to step down from the Run Walk Club and I miss it so much that it hurts sometimes. I can’t make the monthly meetings now because I work most Mondays and can’t afford to miss work. I haven’t been going to the gym at all and I’ve been stuffing my facehole.

I definitely need to get some hobbies going again, lately all I’ve been doing is watching Netflix, eating, and napping if I’m not taking Noah to and from school or at work. I don’t even know what I used to do with myself all day before I had Noah….I didn’t work that much! It’s weird feeling like a single lady again but yet still having Noah responsibilities. The juxtaposition is hard and some things just hit me right in the feels….like when Noah and I got our flu shots the other day and I had to fill out our forms. I just ended up putting the condo address down for both of us because I didn’t know our new addresses offhand, but it really drove home the fact that Noah and I have *separate addresses* now. I don’t live with my child. That made me feel incredibly sad, even if logically it’s the best set-up for us.

This time of year is always difficult for me. I know that this year will be worse, guaranteed.



The fear is taking hold…

Today I had a dream about a seemingly wicked 21+k obstacle race that involved bouncy things. Sort of like a Wipeout trail race.

(I have a lot of dreams that feature really neat race concepts, lol) 

But in the dream I had only done half of it and then couldn’t figure out where I was going and I couldn’t find any volunteers to help me and everyone else was long gone… All I could do was just cry hysterically in disappointment and frustration,  and eventually I just gave up because I knew that  I’d never finish before the cut off time.

CLEARLY my brain is starting to connect my experiences with Tuffest 10 (although to be fair I injured myself and that was the main reason why I couldn’t complete the full 21k) and my feelings of failure and disappointment with the impending Beast this weekend…. Logically I know that this will be a much better outcome (and the course will be adequately marked, haha!), but the fear is setting in because the last time I attempted a half marathon trail run, I failed miserably.

This will  be my first of that same (and most likely longer) distance since that race,  plus I’ve never done a race on a mountain before (well besides in Grande Cache, but it wasn’t a ski hill). I AM scared that I will fail again and all of the time, training, and more importantly, MONEY spent on my two big weekends of Spartan races will be a waste…. I NEED that last piece of the trifecta medal or all of my effort will be for naught!

Realistically I KNOW that I will finish in time…. I have 9.5 hours before they take people off of the mountain. But still, the fear…. Tuffest 10 broke me, it was the first race that I basically gave up on, and now the Beast will be here in just 4 short days….


When the Hurricane Heat almost broke me….

After I did my first Spartan race, the 2014 Edmonton Sprint, over a year ago, I made the goal that I would get my trifecta in 2015.

For those unaware, a trifecta is when you do the Sprint (5+km), Super (12+km), and the Beast (21+km) all in one calendar year. With each medal you also get a pie piece, and the 3 different pie pieces fit together to make one trifecta medal. You can also do multiple trifectas in the same year and then get cooler, larger medals as well.

pie pieces

pie pieces2

Neat, right?

I couldn't find a X3 one, but you get the idea.

I couldn’t find a X3 one, but you get the idea.

In order to make my goal as cheap to obtain as possible, it involved compressing as many races into one weekend as possible. Since the only Super in Western Canada was in Red Deer, and the only Beast in Western Canada is in Sun Peaks, I was then forced to do my Sprint in either weekend as well….I chose Red Deer since I figured that I would be pretty sore after the Beast. (Completing my trifecta outside of Western Canada is not an option).

Spartan also offers a 3-4 hour Hurricane Heat, held on the Friday night before a race weekend, where everyone operates as a large group to finish the Sprint-length course also as a group. You receive a special dog tag with the Warrior Ethos on one side, and a HH shirt.

About a month ago, I had emailed Spartan to see if there was a HH for Red Deer and was told that there was not one for that weekend or Sun Peaks -.- Of course, the only locations that I was attending did not have a HH! I wanted the dog tag so bad!

Imagine my surprise when about a week before the race, it was announced that there was in fact going to be a HH for Red Deer! I quickly signed up….I knew that it would be tough to do 3 races in one weekend, but I have no idea if I’ll be able to do any Spartans at all next year (racing is a ridiculously expensive hobby and my recent change in life circumstances means a  huge shift in my finances…) so I figured I might as well do it…..I was going to be in town anyway, so why not! (That was the same attitude that signed me up for my first Spartan as well!)

Then I was sent this ridiculous mandatory gear list and I wondered what I had gotten myself into….


Thursday night came around and I realized that I had COMPLETELY forgotten about the essay due to being distracted by making sure I had everything else I needed. So there I was at 3 am on Friday morning, trying to write an essay on my phone, thinking that I would swing by the condo tomorrow to print it off. As I was writing it, I stopped making sense and I couldn’t process what I was reading anymore, so I decided to call it a night and in the morning I would proofread and email it to myself so that I could print it off.

The next morning I quickly threw it through a word counter and it was only 275 words!! Noooo!

So instead I decided that I would get my friend/carpool-mate Brittni to drive the first leg to Edmonton so that I could finish it off while we were on the road, and I would either send it to Cheryl, the Mudd Queen that I was picking up in Edmonton, for her to print off for me, or worst case scenerio I would email it to myself and make use of the “Business Centre” at our hotel, which I hoped would have a printer. Cheryl ended up being able to print it off for me, thankfully.

Brittni and I got to Edmonton super late, and ended up getting there right at rush hour so it took me an HOUR to get from one end of the city (where I dropped Brittni off) to the other to pick up Cheryl. We were running horrendously behind schedule. The HH started at 6PM on the DOT, and we didn’t even leave Edmonton until after 4!!

We had to make an emergency stop in Ponoka for gas because with all of the stress and worry of a) making it across the city to where Cheryl was and b) being so far behind schedule, I had completely forgotten to get gas in Edmonton! While we were filling up, I got changed in the back of the van and Cheryl quickly used the bathroom at the gas station as her changing room as well.

It was a great thing that Cheryl was able to print my essay off for me, because we pulled into the race grounds parking lot at 5:45PM! We didn’t have time to check-in at the hotel first!

“Before” – group photo

It was a long and difficult 3 hours. As expected, I was the slowest of the group. Us turtles were supposed to lead the group (as we were only to go as fast as the slowest person), and it started that way but switched halfway through for some reason as the faster people started going to the front and I pulled up the rear.

At one point we were ziptied to a partner, I was the odd man out of the group (sigh) so I was attached to our leader John of JohnnyB Fitt Fitness Centre in Fort Saskatchewan (check it out if you’re in the Edmonton area!). For obvious reasons this was a little humiliating….it’s happened before in school where I’ve been picked last and forced to go with the teacher for whatever, or had to be a third in a group of two. Plus being the slowest person and him being arguably the strongest/most in shape of the group, we were an uneven team, particularly when we had to navigate a bit of trails. I had to hyperfocus on where my feet were going so that I didn’t twist my left ankle (and as a result have to sit out the rest of the weekend), and being attached to someone who is fast AND the leader of the group made that incredibly difficult and more than slightly embarrassing.

Then we had to get up and over the 8ft wall while still being attached to our partner. John and I were demoing and it went about as well as you may expect, I straddled the wall wrong and hurt my vagina ( :/ ). Then when he went up, instead of sitting up on the top and jumping down together, he went down, and snapped the ziptie on my wrist. Thankfully I was holding on tight enough that he didn’t also pull me off the wall.

During the Hobie Hop (a rubber band worn around your ankles, you have to hop around a little mini course), the band rubbed on my bare skin and was quite painful. I was already feeling pretty low at that point and the pain of thick rubber on already broken skin broke me a little.

I was so frustrated with myself and how out of shape I am (relatively speaking) that I started hyperventilating and almost cried, I had to walk it off and be far back from the group for a bit so that I could get myself together. This in and of itself made me annoyed….why am I about to cry here? Why am I so weak? Ugh. I managed to hold it together, but jesus. There was no way in hell that I would let anyone see me cry, especially in that environment. I am supposed to be a strong Spartan, a Canadian Mudd Queen, a warrior! Warriors don’t cry!

People kept asking me if I was okay. I really hate that, it happens when I’m walking in road races as well….yes I am totally fine, I am just fat and out of shape, thank you! To be fair, I was also not putting 1000% in, only because I didn’t want to wreck myself when I still had 2 more races to do that weekend!

A little while after that we had to build a raft out of our hockey sticks and zip ties…. that also went about as well as expected and immediately sunk as soon as John got on it, lol.

We had to swim across the water, and let me tell you….I don’t have any fears or issues with water, but having to swim in cold water in the dark while wearing actual clothing (I feel like wearing actual an actual bathing suit may have made that seem less intense, no idea why) made me have a minor panic attack where I couldn’t remember how to swim besides treading water. One girl was afraid of water and was freaking out getting into it, but she was a strong swimmer once she actually got in. It was interesting to see.

After around 3 hours, John checked to see if we had written our essays on “Why I Race”. There was a whole family that were doing the HH, and for some reason they all had the exact same essays! Not going to lie, I judged! Maybe I’m just a keener but that bothered me immensely. I never would have thought to copy someone else’s essay, everyone’s motivations and life experiences are so different, there’s no way that the dad runs for the same reason that his 16 year old son does!

John asked who would like to read their essay aloud. I, of course, did a little jump in the air while shooting my hand up and saying “me! me!” uh….yeah. Is it a surprise that I was a total teacher’s pet and I am the first to volunteer to be on stage for things (in the context of being at a bar or a performance or whatever where they ask people to complete tasks on stage, etc)? John chose me and two other people.

The teenage boy of the family, who apparently was the original author of the essay that his entire family used, read first. After he was done, John had Jaime (a fellow Mudd Queen) and I rock, paper, scissors to see who would read theirs’ as the first one had taken so long. I unfortunately lost, but was visibly disappointed enough and someone from the group said something like “oh but she really wanted to read hers!”, that John ultimately let me read mine as well.

(You can read the essay here)

Afterwards we ran as a group and jumped over the waiting fire, which was a very welcome sight at that point!

And we were done!

And we were done!

And the Hurricane Heat was done. It was beyond challenging, stressful, and humiliating at times, but overall it was also incredibly rewarding and something I definitely don’t regret doing.

A few of the Mudd Queens came up and asked me when I was running Sun Peaks (8:30!) and when I said that I was running alone, they offered to run it with me :) so yay! I found people to run with! lol!

A beer, a group photo, and some chatting later, I was beyond ready to go check in at the hotel, get a hot shower, some food in my stomach, and then get some sleep for the 13+k Super I had to run the next day.


So proud. So hungry.

So proud. So hungry.

“Why I Race”

For the Hurricane Heat, we had to write a 500 word essay on “Why I Race”. I volunteered to read mine aloud.

This was my essay:

“My son Noah suffered a severe brain injury at birth. When he was 4 days old we found out that he was essentially “brain dead”. On Christmas Eve 2010, at 5 days old, we took him off life support and prepared to say goodbye.

He ended up pulling through and we took him home 5 days later.

He is now 4.5 years old, has severe cerebral palsy, and is wheelchair-bound and non-verbal.

After Noah was born I suffered from PPD and PTSD. I gained back all of the weight that I had lost from giving birth, plus 20 more pounds. I was a total of 60lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight by Noah’s second birthday. I was severely depressed and actively planning my suicide when I finally got the help that I needed. In 2013 I got a hold of my mental health and grew to accept myself and my body.

In January 2014 I weighed 250lbs. I decided that I was finally ready to do something about it, and Noah was my inspiration and motivation. He will never be able to walk, run, or do anything that a typical child would be able to do. I already have to be his voice… I have to be his arms and legs too. He is only going to get bigger and heavier, so I needed to get smaller and stronger.

I found Crossfit and that ignited a fire in me that led me to signing up for my first Spartan on a complete whim… the 2014 Edmonton Sprint. By all accounts I didn’t do very well, but I did something for ME, and the sense of accomplishment I felt jumping over that fire led me to setting a goal of doing 25 races by the time I turn 25.

Finding a love for fitness and racing has allowed me to deal with my depression in a positive and healthy way.

Throughout the last year and a half I’ve learned that I need to be “selfish” and do things that don’t revolve around being a mom. Noah helps me push harder when I want to give up, and he gives me the strength and purpose to even be alive today. When I struggle I think about seeing my baby in the NICU and all of the emotional pain I went through when we were told we would lose him. I know that I’ve already been through the absolute worst and most painful experience that I could go through…. Any physical pain is nothing in comparison. Noah has taught me to be thankful for the fact that I have a fully functioning body and mind.

The biggest reason why I race is because I deserve to treat myself and my health as the number one priority. I race for the sense of pride I have in myself when I cross that finish line, knowing that I can push my body to limits that I never thought possible.

‘It’s a shame for a woman to grow old without ever seeing the strength and beauty of which her body is capable’


My essay ended up getting shared via Allison Tai’s blog here, and the Spartan Canada blog here. That was pretty neat.


The last couple of weeks have been full of change and weirdness.

Caleb and I are separated.

I moved back to my parents’ house.

Noah is living with Caleb.

I got a job. It’s going alright, there’s quite the learning curve, especially considering that I have not had a real job in almost 5 years.

I am still in town every day taking care of Noah, which is sort of awkward. It’s like I am still living at the house and eating the food like normal (I don’t have to buy my own food yet), but none of my stuff is there and I don’t sleep there at night. The drive to my parents’ house is also an adjustment, it’s pretty brutal having to drive out of town in the middle of the night when you’re exhausted.

I wish we could have a cleaner break, but Noah makes that impossible, unfortunately.

I had to step down as web coordinator for the Run/Walk Club….with everything going on I’ve been severely neglecting it and I needed to walk away for the time being.

I’m also dating, which has been mostly successful. Even though I don’t have a lot of actual dating experience, I feel like I know more now what I’m actually looking for. But I am primarily just having fun and meeting new people.

I am mostly happy. The living situation is a huge adjustment, but I think it will work out…or maybe I will just get used to it. It’s a strange juxtaposition, feeling like a stranger in my own house, and also feeling like I never left. Seeing “our” bed no longer being “our” bed is hard. Trying to adjust my vocabulary to reflect the house being “Caleb’s house” or “the house” vs “my home” is almost heartbreaking, and it’s worse when Caleb either says it wrong or says it right, really. Him saying “…when you’re at my house tomorrow” last week made me cry (he didn’t say it to intentionally make me upset). Then it’s a whole other emotion when he refers to it as ours still….I can’t even describe it. It’s mostly melancholy, I guess.

I’m not sad about the separation, I’m sad about losing my home and also not seeing Noah go to sleep at night. I was comfortable. I had my house, and sat on my couch with my TV with my Netflix that I watched almost every night. Now nothing besides my personal belongings are mine. I am essentially a drifter, having to take a huge suitcase and/or an overnight bag and my “hobo pillow” (as I call it) to town every day, depending on what I am doing that day.

Change is hard.

The next few months will be really interesting, I think. I am hoping to move back into town for November 1st (moving in with my sister if it all goes to plan), in the meantime I need to sort out my work hours and try to figure out how to get as close as full time hours as possible so that I can even afford to live. I also am not really sure how to navigate us towards actually getting a divorce. The process seems very complicated. But I’m sure we will figure it out eventually.

Onward and upward.

10847928_10156020083875434_2708233565610939978_nPS: I am writing this in a Starbucks right now and the super depressing mellow music is not helping my mood very much.

PPS: SPARTAN NEXT WEEKEND (yes I am still going)!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Weight Is A Mindfuck

As I get older, I have started giving less and less fucks about what people think about my body. I’ll change outside of the stalls and only cover enough that I don’t flash people. I can be naked in front of people and just be like….what’s up, this is my body, and not care if they may be judging my saggy boobs or stretch-marked stomach that also happens to carry all of my extra weight.

I went camping this weekend. I wore a bikini in public. I honestly don’t even think I wore a bikini as a kid (a tankini for sure though), and my mombod self was wearing one on the beach and also walking back to our campsite, giving zero fucks even though I was getting some side eye. I felt GOOD about myself. I forgot to shave my legs and honestly didn’t care that much.

I drank a lot of Twisted lemonade this weekend.

I drank a lot of Twisted lemonade this weekend.


Wearing a bikini in public, drinking in public (breaking the rules), giving zero fucks.

I didn’t really think too much about my diet. I didn’t go too crazy until the last day, and that was only because I drove my friend back to Edmonton and I have to constantly eat to keep myself awake on longer road trips -.-

I got home last night. I weighed myself this morning, and 201 was staring back at me. I was 197.2 on Thursday morning. Is it really possible that I gained 4lbs over the course of the weekend? Why do I put this much stock into the number on the scale? Maybe because after I finally hit 199, I thought that I’d never see 200 again (barring pregnancy)?

I thought back to how good I felt walking around in a bikini for the first time in my life…..why does seeing this number make me feel disgusting?


I have a feeling the simple answer is that I need to stop weighing myself…but I just CAN’T. Maybe once I eventually get to my goal weight and can go on maintenance I’ll weigh myself more infrequently, but for now, keeping a consistent eye on the fluctuations from day to day is what makes me feel like I have some control, when it goes down I feel accomplished, when it goes up I feel frustrated. I WISH I didn’t obsess about it so much, I see innumerable posts on my lady fitness groups about throwing away the scale and these beautiful buff women who apparently never weigh themselves.

I’ve spent the last year and a half steadfastly focusing on losing weight. Not weighing myself would mean that I’d be letting that focus go to waste. It may not be the healthiest thing in the world to be so obsessive about little electronic numbers that dictate whether I’ve been a good girl or a bad girl, but their very basic purpose is data. I NEED to know that I’m going the right direction.

I really don’t know what the point of this post was beyond that camping makes me fat and I make a lot of excuses about my need to weigh myself daily. Sigh.




The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

There have been innumerable ups and downs for me over the past year and a half that I’ve been doing this whole lifestyle change for. My weight has gone down and up and plateaued, and down again, I gained back some of the inches that I lost during Biggest Loser and am only now getting close to where I was at the end of the competition.

My mental health has always been a bit of an issue, some days more than others. Hormones play a huge part in my mood and how I feel.

I’ve been very lazy lately, I haven’t gone to the gym and lifted in at least a month :( and not going to the gym makes me depressed. I haven’t even been doing training runs or going for walks with Noah like I fully intended to. Summer is really hard for me, I don’t get that daily break from Noah to do my own thing, and it makes me want to hermit. The only time I have to go to the gym solo is after Noah goes to bed, and that’s also when I need to squeeze in any adult socialization….and socialization has definitely taken the front seat for the past few weeks!

I’ve been trying to go to the playground more often to practice my monkey bar skills. I can now actually swing instead of just falling down the bars, but my body moves a little too much from side to side for it to be totally comfortable. I am noticing a huge improvement in my upper body strength. Today I went for a run for the first time in 2 months and ran my fastest 5K time to date, even with having a stomach ache and feeling like I needed to throw up for 90% of it. I did 3.34 miles in 37:49, average pace 11:19/mile, which is a big deal for me.

That’s all of the good and the bad, but the ugly….

I set out to run 25 races by the time I turn 25, inspired by someone on a lady fitness group I’m in who did 50 races by her 50th birthday, and a local friend who ran 50K on her 50th birthday.

But in the attempt to complete my goal, I’ve hit a lot of motivational snags. A lot of really disparaging moments during races that really make me not want to race anymore this year. Which is really sad, I enjoy racing, but god sometimes I just get so frustrated with myself for being so ungodly slow.

A friend told me the other day something along the lines of, “you inspire me. You get out there and finish the race, even when you’re last….most people would just give up, but you finish”. I realize that he was being encouraging and I appreciate the sentiment, but at the same time I wonder if I am just being unrealistic with my aspirations. Do I even belong in the racing community? I know that someone always has to be last, but am I just being foolish by continuing to do all of these long distance runs when I’m probably not actually ready for them? Should I be sticking to 5 and 10Ks instead of pulling in dead last at 21s?

In the last month I’ve had two really negative racing experiences.

The first was at Tuffest 10 at the Nitehawk ski hill just outside of Grande Prairie. I ended up stepping wrong in a soft spot on the trail and twisting my bad ankle. It took me 2:41 to do 10k (the terrain was ridiculously treacherous), so I called it at that point instead of completing my intended 21K (I may have been DNF’d anyway, the course was only open for 4 hours). I was so disappointed in my performance. I’m still disappointed. I did so well at Mountain Madness (another 21K trail race that I had done a month before, in comparison I finished it in 3:16) that I was really expecting a similar showing at that race, and it did not happen. The food after the race was excellent (spaghetti and meat sauce! ceasar salad! garlic bread!) but to be honest I could barely choke it down because I didn’t feel like I earned it.

The second was Beat the Bear #2, a duathlon. The first one, in June, I had finished second last and it kind of broke me. Completing a triathlon is on my list of ultimate fitness goals, but I realized after that race that I am HORRIBLE at the bike (it didn’t help that the route was all forest trail). It took me an hour to finish 8K of biking (I actually think it was closer to 10K, but that’s unconfirmed) :/ So going into #2 (I had paid for the 3 race series, otherwise I definitely wouldn’t have done another one after #1!) I was DREADING it. I knew I would be last because the person who got last for the previous one was out of town.

It’s only 3K running + 8K biking + 3K running, but dear lord even with a Red Bull 30mins before the race started (my new pre-race ritual since Mountain Madness), I had zero gas in my tank and the first 3K took me 26:53 (felt longer). The biking took me 55:29 and the last 3K took me 30:27. Overall I took almost a full 10 minutes longer with #2 than I did #1, although I enjoyed the route itself more.

In any case, I came out of it feeling very grumpy and discouraged, and now I don’t have any races until the third installment of Beat the Bear, followed by the Glow Run 5K the next night, which I am actually looking forward to.

Next year….I don’t really know what my racing schedule will look like. I don’t know if I will be doing Spartans again once I get my trifecta this year. I would like to do a marathon, but I don’t know how my schedule will be in regards to getting the mileage in to train for that. Noah is starting full time kindergarten in the fall, I’m hoping to get a job starting in October….who knows what that will mean for my free time? I may even decide to not work and just enjoy the time I have until Noah’s in all day school next fall (at which point I will definitely be working)? This year is going to be such a huge transition, I have no idea what’s going to happen or how I’ll feel after my 25 races are completed.

beat the bear #1 results

Beat the Bear #1 results….

beat the bear #2 results

….as compared to #2.

Ugly DNF next to my name for the 21K :(

Ugly DNF next to my name for the Tuffest 10 21K :(

PS to finish this super negative post with something positive, I FINALLY BROKE 200LBS THIS WEEK!! FUCK YEAH, ONEDERLAND!

weight loss milestone

July 17, 2015

:D :D :D