“To all the girls that think you’re ugly because you’re not a size zero, you’re the beautiful one. It’s society who’s ugly.”
Thank you, Lady Gaga, for channeling the words of Marilyn Monroe through your BODY REVOLUTION campaign and reminding us that our flaws can be fabulous.
Your recent photos make me smile. I don’t see a pop star who has
gained twenty-five pounds, I see a woman who is pouring her passion into
her craft and doing what she loves on her own terms.
Here in Syracuse, there’s a team of girls who has not only accepted
our bodies despite our excess weight, scars and other imperfections,
we’ve shown society what we can do with them.
And we want you to come and do a REVOLUTION RIDE with us to help support the BODY REVOLUTION and get the next generation of girls feeling as good as we do.
Over the years this group has collectively completed 4 Ironmans, 14
Half Ironmans, 12 marathons, and 187 miscellaneous swimming, biking or
running races, covering a total of 4235.6 miles.
Based on that, you might imagine us to look a certain way. Society
says that athletes should be skinny. We should be lean and muscular with
near-perfect bodies. Sound like any other industries you’re familiar
with?
But we’re not—and like you—we couldn’t care less that we don’t fit
the mold. We’re in this because we love what we do. We are fueled by our
passion to reach new limits, not our desire to uphold society’s
expectations of what an athlete should look like.
And we don’t hide our bodies because they aren’t “athletic” enough.
We’re sporting the same tight shorts and teeny tops that the world
champions do. Society be damned!
For three years now, I’ve been volunteering as a coach and mentor with the local chapter of Girls Inc,
a national non-profit organization that inspires girls to be strong,
smart and bold through life-changing programs and experiences that help
them navigate gender, economic and social barriers.
I lead them through a series of workshops rooted in fitness—not
because I want to give them the tools to LOOK a certain way, but because
I want to give them the opportunity to FEEL a certain way.
To me, fitness isn’t about exercising your body—it’s about exercising
your mind in a way that makes you feel something so strongly you have
to move. That’s the way I’ve taught my spin class for the past seven years, and it’s the way I’ve executed every race I’ve ever done.
The way you tackle a piano with
emotion, technique, and hunger is the same way we tackle each workout.
The way you own the stage for hours on end is the same way we’ve taken
to the roads for hours on end (Ironman can last for 17 hours…ride, ride
pony!).
Girls need to know that this kind of strength and fire doesn’t come
from conforming to society’s idea of what they should be doing. It
doesn’t come from throwing up, cutting, abusive relationships, or drugs.
It doesn’t come from those short-term vices we find and rely on in our
darkest moments.
It comes from accepting yourself and your flaws and being brave
enough to feed your passions despite the obstacles that are in your
path. It comes from feeling good enough about yourself that you can rise
above the pressures from society to look and be a certain way—as a
superstar, as an athlete…
As a woman.
In that spirit, I would like to invite you to lead a #RevolutionRide
spin class with me to support the next generation of girls who are
fighting against society every day—from the people in their day-to-day
lives who judge and bully them, to the strangers at large who stereotype
the way women should look and behave.
I promise you an hour of sweat, fun,
progress, and acceptance with hundreds of women who will proudly flaunt
their flaws together on the fly wheel to raise money for Girls Inc.
Let’s get on the bike with our huge asses and give society a big
middle finger as we pedal to a better place and empower girls
everywhere. Are you with me, Gaga?
Yours,
Lisa
little monster, fat triathlete and passion junkie
Follow this cause on Twitter at #revolutionride with @spinningleese, or on Facebook.com/revolutionride
More than running (but not much more).
Friday, October 12, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Back on Track
For the first time in nearly a year (the last time was Sept. 18, 2011) I returned to the track for speedwork. There are several reasons for the 358-day absence from the dreaded oval, and only one (sort of) good excuse. It's odd that I avoid speedwork because it works! I need to remember that the next time I try to talk myself out of it.
Back in the day, when I was a member of the Syracuse Chargers,
Dave Oja was the women's coach. I remember gathering at the Henninger
High School track one evening a week to grind out speedwork, Dave dutifully pushing us, stopwatch in hand. So I have always known of the
benefits of hitting the track, I just have never really liked it.
So here are my reasons:
1. The Liverpool High School track had been closed for renovations, but now that it's open the fence is too high for me to climb over (if the gate is locked), and the gate is unlocked at inconsistent times. I have to be done with my weekday morning workout by 7 a.m.--trotting over to LHS to find the gate locked infuriates me. So . . .
2. I don't mind driving to Baldwinsville to access their track, but that presents another justification in my mind to skip it altogether. Determined to do speedwork today (based on my woeful half-marathon time of Sept. 8), I drove to B'ville, only to find that track closed for renovations! So I headed to the Cicero-North Syracuse track, easily the nicest facility locally short of Syracuse University. I have never found that gate locked, and a few lights are on so it's easier to stay in a lane before the sun comes up.
3. Speedwork is deadly dull. Indeed it is, but (repeat after me) it works.
And here is my excuse:
1. I had foot surgery Oct. 20, 2011. Lame, I know. As soon as I could run again I should have also scheduled weekly speedwork.
So with a goal in mind to best every finishing time from 2012 at every distance in 2013, I vow to trudge to the track once a week to embrace, enjoy and complete a speed workout. This way, when my husband has to stand in the rain (like he did Saturday), waiting for his wife to finish yet another race, he won't have to bide his time nearly as long. And that's motivation enough!
Next races:
Cortland YMCA Sprint Triathlon, Sept. 15, Little York Lake.
Strathmore Parks Run, Sept. 15, Onondaga Park.
 |
| The start of the Arc half-marathon. (Charlie Bowers photo) |
So here are my reasons:
1. The Liverpool High School track had been closed for renovations, but now that it's open the fence is too high for me to climb over (if the gate is locked), and the gate is unlocked at inconsistent times. I have to be done with my weekday morning workout by 7 a.m.--trotting over to LHS to find the gate locked infuriates me. So . . .
2. I don't mind driving to Baldwinsville to access their track, but that presents another justification in my mind to skip it altogether. Determined to do speedwork today (based on my woeful half-marathon time of Sept. 8), I drove to B'ville, only to find that track closed for renovations! So I headed to the Cicero-North Syracuse track, easily the nicest facility locally short of Syracuse University. I have never found that gate locked, and a few lights are on so it's easier to stay in a lane before the sun comes up.
3. Speedwork is deadly dull. Indeed it is, but (repeat after me) it works.
And here is my excuse:
1. I had foot surgery Oct. 20, 2011. Lame, I know. As soon as I could run again I should have also scheduled weekly speedwork.
So with a goal in mind to best every finishing time from 2012 at every distance in 2013, I vow to trudge to the track once a week to embrace, enjoy and complete a speed workout. This way, when my husband has to stand in the rain (like he did Saturday), waiting for his wife to finish yet another race, he won't have to bide his time nearly as long. And that's motivation enough!
Next races:
Cortland YMCA Sprint Triathlon, Sept. 15, Little York Lake.
Strathmore Parks Run, Sept. 15, Onondaga Park.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Second Time Around
A week out from Steelhead 70.3, Aug. 19, in Benton Harbor, Mich., and I have a lot on my mind. I had originally written this blog as a top 10 list, but it just wasn't working for me. So here are a few general observations, followed by the swim-bike-run specifics. Race day was well organized, which is as you would expect considering how much an Ironman-brand race costs. The day before, however, told a different story.
Signs leading us to the race site on Saturday proved inadequate, but once we got there, our frustration became borderline disgust. It seemed that every time we approached the parking lot so I could drop off my bike, the parking police (I use that term loosely) told us there was no room at the inn. We tried three times, and just missed the open spots. Just down the street the Boy Scouts were making $10 each time someone parked in their designated lot. Sorry, but I have a real problem with the Boy Scouts, and their no-gays-allowed 1950s stance; we refused to pay them. And naturally once we did park and I walked my bike to the transition area, plenty of parking spaces were open near the lake. The frustration was so unnecessary. And I know it seems petty, but when you're mentally preparing yourself for the difficulty of a half-ironman, the last thing that should slip you up is parking.
Now, for race day:
The Swim. In 2011, this race became a duathlon because the chop in Lake Michigan was too risky to the athletes. That was my biggest concern for race day. But the Great Lake looked calm, and blue, and so inviting (at least what I could see before the sun came up!). This is an unusual race because the transition area sits in between two lakeside parks. Depending on the lake current that day, athletes either walk 1.2 miles south of transition or 1.2 miles north and then swim back. Jokes abounded during the walk that we should get credit for that distance, or call this a 71.5 rather than a 70.3. Yeah, triathletes are a witty lot. Except for the walrus/swimmer who had no concept of swimming straight, this leg went extremely well for me. Once I lost the walrus about halfway through it was clear sailing, and I came out of the water with many in my swim wave (wearing yellow caps) still freestyling. Yes! My time was no faster than in the Syracuse 70.3, but I felt calmer and more confident. Now that I enjoy the swim, I can begin to work on speed in the water.
The Bike. My worst event of the three, and I'm starting to think it's because of the equipment. It seemed like I got passed by 1,000 athletes while I was out there. I was feeling pretty demoralized about that--holding back tears--but I looked at my Cat-Eye and realized I was ahead of the pace I had wanted to achieve. Plus, I reminded myself that as one of the first swimmers in and out of the water, stronger cyclists were bound to catch me. But why so many??? The dreadful road conditions didn't help--Michigan is even more hard-up than New York, and it shows in how they "repair" their roads. It got so bad that I had to use the portapotty at about mile 30--my bladder couldn't take any more. That cost me 5 minutes, but I still finished the bike faster than I had in the Syracuse race.
The Run. My favorite (and at one time my best) leg. Just like in my first half-ironman, I vowed to keep moving forward, "one foot ahead of the other," and never walk; never. I didn't care if it took 2-1/2 hours, as long as I didn't walk. Well, it didn't take that long, and I didn't walk. I enjoy the run for many reasons, but it's always nice to talk to others as you go--you hear people's stories, hear where they're from, if this is the first, or 10th, such event. Then you blast by them, after telling them to finish strong (he-he). Hey, I can't squelch my competitive nature. I really enjoy the run because I can always blow by some woman who kicked my butt on the bike. It never fails to feel good!
Because I was pokier on the run than my first 70.3, I finished this race 10 minutes slower. Had I not stopped on the bike, it would have been 5 minutes.
No complaints. It was terrific having a small portion of my large family there to cheer me on. I thank them for standing for hours waiting for me to finish, feeding me, encouraging me and keeping me going. My sister has always been good at popping up where you least expect her, and she didn't disappoint this time--I saw her on the bike and at several points on the run.
I desperately need to work on my biking, and I this off-season I plan to build even more leg strength, and win the lottery so I can buy a new bike.
My next race: Escape From the Judge, 1-mile open water swim in Skaneateles Lake, Sept. 2. That should be interesting.
Signs leading us to the race site on Saturday proved inadequate, but once we got there, our frustration became borderline disgust. It seemed that every time we approached the parking lot so I could drop off my bike, the parking police (I use that term loosely) told us there was no room at the inn. We tried three times, and just missed the open spots. Just down the street the Boy Scouts were making $10 each time someone parked in their designated lot. Sorry, but I have a real problem with the Boy Scouts, and their no-gays-allowed 1950s stance; we refused to pay them. And naturally once we did park and I walked my bike to the transition area, plenty of parking spaces were open near the lake. The frustration was so unnecessary. And I know it seems petty, but when you're mentally preparing yourself for the difficulty of a half-ironman, the last thing that should slip you up is parking.
Now, for race day:
The Swim. In 2011, this race became a duathlon because the chop in Lake Michigan was too risky to the athletes. That was my biggest concern for race day. But the Great Lake looked calm, and blue, and so inviting (at least what I could see before the sun came up!). This is an unusual race because the transition area sits in between two lakeside parks. Depending on the lake current that day, athletes either walk 1.2 miles south of transition or 1.2 miles north and then swim back. Jokes abounded during the walk that we should get credit for that distance, or call this a 71.5 rather than a 70.3. Yeah, triathletes are a witty lot. Except for the walrus/swimmer who had no concept of swimming straight, this leg went extremely well for me. Once I lost the walrus about halfway through it was clear sailing, and I came out of the water with many in my swim wave (wearing yellow caps) still freestyling. Yes! My time was no faster than in the Syracuse 70.3, but I felt calmer and more confident. Now that I enjoy the swim, I can begin to work on speed in the water.
 |
| Many yellow caps behind me. |
The Run. My favorite (and at one time my best) leg. Just like in my first half-ironman, I vowed to keep moving forward, "one foot ahead of the other," and never walk; never. I didn't care if it took 2-1/2 hours, as long as I didn't walk. Well, it didn't take that long, and I didn't walk. I enjoy the run for many reasons, but it's always nice to talk to others as you go--you hear people's stories, hear where they're from, if this is the first, or 10th, such event. Then you blast by them, after telling them to finish strong (he-he). Hey, I can't squelch my competitive nature. I really enjoy the run because I can always blow by some woman who kicked my butt on the bike. It never fails to feel good!
Because I was pokier on the run than my first 70.3, I finished this race 10 minutes slower. Had I not stopped on the bike, it would have been 5 minutes.
No complaints. It was terrific having a small portion of my large family there to cheer me on. I thank them for standing for hours waiting for me to finish, feeding me, encouraging me and keeping me going. My sister has always been good at popping up where you least expect her, and she didn't disappoint this time--I saw her on the bike and at several points on the run.
I desperately need to work on my biking, and I this off-season I plan to build even more leg strength, and win the lottery so I can buy a new bike.
My next race: Escape From the Judge, 1-mile open water swim in Skaneateles Lake, Sept. 2. That should be interesting.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Delta Lake Observations
I completed my one and only Olympic-distance triathlon yesterday, July 29 (it's fast becoming my favorite distance). What a beautiful day: The lake was calm, the sky blue, the temperature moderate. I really enjoy this race, and was pleased to finish in just under 3 hours, 5 minutes, despite feeling nauseated for a good deal of the run. I'm thinking that's because the much-ballyhooed peanut butter GU I sucked down in the first mile of the run was not the best choice.
Anyway, here are my observations, positive and negative, about this race, put on by Mike Brych and his ATCEndurance company.
The good:
Excellent volunteer support, and excellently supportive volunteers. Hearing people you don't know telling you how strong and great you look (when you feel completely the opposite, and on the third and final loop of the run) is incredibly encouraging. I especially enjoyed the woman at the bike turnaround who ran with each of us to hand off water; that was quite skillful!
A lovely venue. I especially enjoy the swim here, as Delta Lake is clean and calm. Mike told us to look out for weeds at the far buoy, and was he ever right! Ah, the perils of open water swimming.
Incredibly quick results posting. Score-This knows what they're doing. By the time we got home from the venue, the results were already on line, complete and accurate. Wish I could say the same for some other timing companies in the area.
As a digression--there are many aspects of triathlon that keep me competing (I'm now in my fourth year), but this is the greatest of them: support from fellow athletes, especially woman-to-woman. Hearing "great job," "good work," "keep it up" from complete strangers is so empowering, and it encourages me to say the same in return. My favorite moment yesterday came from a woman younger than I, passing me with about 200 meters left on the run, who turned to say, "Looking strong, Mama." I loved it!
The not-so-good:
Post-race food organizers: Please don't let everyone take the yummy yogurt at the end of the sprint race. I was left with plain and mango--ewwww. Also, a banana would have been so nice to eat.
As for hydration, there was plenty of cold water along the run course, but I think some electrolyte solution should have been out there as well. I'm wondering if that would have helped the way I was feeling. Of course, I should learn to carry my own hydration on the run (like I do on the bike).
Transition needs to be tighter, by that I mean that people need to move their crap out of the way. Set up your area, and then move along. Nothing worse than coming back from cycling to have someone's running shoes or wetsuit in the way as you change shoes (and mental gears).
I was so very annoyed at two continuing situations on the bike course: people who didn't announce "on your left" (it got so ridiculous at one point that I nearly clipped a guy who was passing me, though I didn't know it, as I steered out to avoid a sewer grate; imagine the mess had we bumped), and those who passed on the right. Are you kidding me?! If you're not going to follow the rules, get the hell out of the sport. I know I tend to be militaristic about this, but rules are set up for the safety of all. Passing on the right is just plain stupid. Do it right, or don't bother doing it all. End of sermon.
Next race: Lyme Sprint Triathlon, Aug. 5, in Chaumont, a lovely bay off Lake Ontario.
Anyway, here are my observations, positive and negative, about this race, put on by Mike Brych and his ATCEndurance company.
The good:
Excellent volunteer support, and excellently supportive volunteers. Hearing people you don't know telling you how strong and great you look (when you feel completely the opposite, and on the third and final loop of the run) is incredibly encouraging. I especially enjoyed the woman at the bike turnaround who ran with each of us to hand off water; that was quite skillful!
A lovely venue. I especially enjoy the swim here, as Delta Lake is clean and calm. Mike told us to look out for weeds at the far buoy, and was he ever right! Ah, the perils of open water swimming.
Incredibly quick results posting. Score-This knows what they're doing. By the time we got home from the venue, the results were already on line, complete and accurate. Wish I could say the same for some other timing companies in the area.
As a digression--there are many aspects of triathlon that keep me competing (I'm now in my fourth year), but this is the greatest of them: support from fellow athletes, especially woman-to-woman. Hearing "great job," "good work," "keep it up" from complete strangers is so empowering, and it encourages me to say the same in return. My favorite moment yesterday came from a woman younger than I, passing me with about 200 meters left on the run, who turned to say, "Looking strong, Mama." I loved it!
The not-so-good:
 | |
| Follow those big green buoys out there in the water. |
As for hydration, there was plenty of cold water along the run course, but I think some electrolyte solution should have been out there as well. I'm wondering if that would have helped the way I was feeling. Of course, I should learn to carry my own hydration on the run (like I do on the bike).
Transition needs to be tighter, by that I mean that people need to move their crap out of the way. Set up your area, and then move along. Nothing worse than coming back from cycling to have someone's running shoes or wetsuit in the way as you change shoes (and mental gears).
I was so very annoyed at two continuing situations on the bike course: people who didn't announce "on your left" (it got so ridiculous at one point that I nearly clipped a guy who was passing me, though I didn't know it, as I steered out to avoid a sewer grate; imagine the mess had we bumped), and those who passed on the right. Are you kidding me?! If you're not going to follow the rules, get the hell out of the sport. I know I tend to be militaristic about this, but rules are set up for the safety of all. Passing on the right is just plain stupid. Do it right, or don't bother doing it all. End of sermon.
Next race: Lyme Sprint Triathlon, Aug. 5, in Chaumont, a lovely bay off Lake Ontario.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Run Along the River
Recovering from foot surgery continues to be the most difficult thing I have ever done; with every encouraging sign comes a number of disappointments. What's more, I can't predict from race to race what the foot will throw at me, so to speak. It's quite the guessing game. I could give up, but that'll never happen.
On July 21 I ran a 10K in Cape Vincent, which took us runners out of the tiny village west to Tibbetts Point Lighthouse, on a road that parallels the source of the St. Lawrence River. Boats large and small accompanied us, and the ever-rotating windmills of Wolfe Island hinted at the Canadian delights found just beyond in Kingston (one of my favorite places). The wind was both cooling and distracting, especially as it served to roil the waves into an odor similar to the west side of Onondaga Lake. There was no escaping the stench.
Unfortunately, it did not help me run any faster.
While I hit the turnaround at about 27 minutes, my speed left me near mile 4 and I struggled to force myself to keep running; had I walked I'd still be mad about it. I am in no way proud of my finishing time, but I am trying to take solace in the fact that I did finish. (Notwithstanding that I threw a bottle of Gatorade in anger after the announcer told me my time, surprising both myself and my husband (we were surprised about the anger, not the time).)
So that's the not-so-good news part.
Now for the better news:
1. My foot did not hurt. The spot on top where the doctor inserted hardware to keep the bones together did not pain me for the first time since I started running again. Neither did the arch of the left foot, nor the arthritic big toe. I am very pleased about this development. It was that very foot pain that distracted me to a terrible finish in the Cazenovia 10-miler on July 4. I hope, hope, hope this is it for that issue. It's been so inconsistent and unpredictable.
2. I ran 6.2 miles in difficult conditions--hot and humid. I stayed hydrated, slowed down if I felt I had to (even though I knew it could lead to a disappointing finish time). Still, I managed to average an under-10-minutes/mile pace. My big triathlon is less than a month away in Michigan. Ever been to the Midwest in August? You think it's been hot and humid in Central New York this summer? Try every summer in Western Michigan. Those are the two reasons I signed up for yesterday's race in the first place--to try to cover the distance in less than an hour (the half-Ironman is twice that distance, and I'm aiming to finish it in 2 hours) and to continue to acclimate to unrelenting heat. I succeeded on both counts.
I have a few observations about this race. The T-shirt is way cool--fluorescent green with a blue rendition of the lighthouse and the name printed above the heart. Minimal and tasteful. I really enjoyed the scenery, even if my olfactory nerve was pushed to its limit. Plenty of water stations throughout, and really friendly folks (loved the hose at mile 6).
Now, for the negative--no chip timing. The timing wasn't the real issue for me; it was that it took the race director far too long to figure out the results for the relative handful of runners who participated. We didn't stick around, and for a very good reason (another negative)--there was no food. I was told that orange slices were at the finish line, but greedy 5K runners must have taken them all. There is absolutely no excuse for a race to run out of food. None! Hold some of the slices back for the 10K runners. I was not at all happy about this. Yet they had a keg of beer. Nothing against my beer-drinking buddies but it's not how I choose to refuel after a race. Call me a grump, but running out of food was not cool.
Will I do this race again? Highly unlikely. It was a bit of a drive for the distance, and the race amenities were sorely lacking. But, as with every race I run, I learned a little more about myself, my willpower and my poor, unlucky feet.
Next up: Delta Lake Olympic Triathlon, Sunday, July 29. I doubt I can best last year's time of 2:59.37, but you never know. It's all up to the foot.
On July 21 I ran a 10K in Cape Vincent, which took us runners out of the tiny village west to Tibbetts Point Lighthouse, on a road that parallels the source of the St. Lawrence River. Boats large and small accompanied us, and the ever-rotating windmills of Wolfe Island hinted at the Canadian delights found just beyond in Kingston (one of my favorite places). The wind was both cooling and distracting, especially as it served to roil the waves into an odor similar to the west side of Onondaga Lake. There was no escaping the stench.
Unfortunately, it did not help me run any faster.
 |
| This is right before I tossed the Gatorade bottle. |
So that's the not-so-good news part.
Now for the better news:
1. My foot did not hurt. The spot on top where the doctor inserted hardware to keep the bones together did not pain me for the first time since I started running again. Neither did the arch of the left foot, nor the arthritic big toe. I am very pleased about this development. It was that very foot pain that distracted me to a terrible finish in the Cazenovia 10-miler on July 4. I hope, hope, hope this is it for that issue. It's been so inconsistent and unpredictable.
2. I ran 6.2 miles in difficult conditions--hot and humid. I stayed hydrated, slowed down if I felt I had to (even though I knew it could lead to a disappointing finish time). Still, I managed to average an under-10-minutes/mile pace. My big triathlon is less than a month away in Michigan. Ever been to the Midwest in August? You think it's been hot and humid in Central New York this summer? Try every summer in Western Michigan. Those are the two reasons I signed up for yesterday's race in the first place--to try to cover the distance in less than an hour (the half-Ironman is twice that distance, and I'm aiming to finish it in 2 hours) and to continue to acclimate to unrelenting heat. I succeeded on both counts.
I have a few observations about this race. The T-shirt is way cool--fluorescent green with a blue rendition of the lighthouse and the name printed above the heart. Minimal and tasteful. I really enjoyed the scenery, even if my olfactory nerve was pushed to its limit. Plenty of water stations throughout, and really friendly folks (loved the hose at mile 6).
Now, for the negative--no chip timing. The timing wasn't the real issue for me; it was that it took the race director far too long to figure out the results for the relative handful of runners who participated. We didn't stick around, and for a very good reason (another negative)--there was no food. I was told that orange slices were at the finish line, but greedy 5K runners must have taken them all. There is absolutely no excuse for a race to run out of food. None! Hold some of the slices back for the 10K runners. I was not at all happy about this. Yet they had a keg of beer. Nothing against my beer-drinking buddies but it's not how I choose to refuel after a race. Call me a grump, but running out of food was not cool.
Will I do this race again? Highly unlikely. It was a bit of a drive for the distance, and the race amenities were sorely lacking. But, as with every race I run, I learned a little more about myself, my willpower and my poor, unlucky feet.
Next up: Delta Lake Olympic Triathlon, Sunday, July 29. I doubt I can best last year's time of 2:59.37, but you never know. It's all up to the foot.
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