The Swim... / September 16, 2007 by vanessa

...is over. THANK GOD. My face (circa December 9, 2005) nearly froze off. Jesus have you ever swam in 60 degree water? I hope you never know what it feels like. Anyway, I'm really just whining since I basically ended up nearly last in my heat and I'm completely bummed out that I didn't train. BUT, I finished.

A couple of days ago Havis made me promise to never commit to another race/event/engagement that I knew going in I didn't want to do. Fine, I said. No problem. And in what I can only ascribe to the same kind of madness that makes women give birth multiple times, I got out of the water and mere minutes later I was committing to a 10k in 3 weeks. I'm a runner, I reasoned. Except that I really only run a couple of times a week and never over 4 miles, so I'd have to train for it. Do I really want that right now? No, no I do not. Well I might, so here's my out: I'm not going to commit to it. If I train and it happens, I'll sign up. Else, I'll be content w/ my very full life.

Oh yeah -- for my non-LA friends: The celebrities I saw today (competing): David Duchovny, Ed Helms (from the Office) and Pam's ex-fiance (from the Office) and the Bachelor (the triathlete cryer one).

who knew?! / September 13, 2007 by vanessa

My morning began in fisticuffs as Ambitious Self heard the alarm go off and tried to pull Lazy (and Stubborn) Self outta bed at 5:40 a.m. to go swimming in the ocean. Swimming in the ocean at THIS time of day?! I mean 'night'. I mean... Are you out of your mind?! Lazy, (mustering up every ounce of industry in her... well, lazy bones) kicked it off with a sucker punch to the gut, stunning Ambitious. Initially. Not to be out-swung, Ambitious landed a swift left hook which pretty much knocked Lazy into 4 p.m.

I got up. I wriggled into my ~~girdle~~ wetsuit. I picked up my co-worker. We drove to the ocean. We met our other co-workers. We got in the water. At that's when it hit me -- how absolutely magical the Pacific is at sunrise. All the time I wasted avoiding could have been spent experiencing this quiet, massive force. I spent so much time and energy hoping that I could just make it through -- it never occurred to me that I'd actually enjoy it.

Anyway, I'll cut to the chase -- I swam and didn't drown. A half mile's gonna be a mug though. The good news is that I'm keepin' my rented wetsuit.

please God, bail me out. / September 12, 2007 by vanessa

Here's why I'm psyched that I swim in the triathlon on Sunday: because this horrible lapse in reason will no longer be looming over my head. And I, Vanessa Fiola, do solemnly swear that I will NEVER sign up for a race again that I don't want to do. (Truth be told, in this case, I wanted to run.) Wish me luck.

sounds like 1963 but for now it sounds like heaven / July 1, 2007 by vanessa

Once in Saul David Raye's class he reminded us ever so sweetly (because that's the way everything he says sounds in his drippingly melodic accent): The only mistake you can make in yoga is thinking that you're good at it. Everyone laughed, of course, but more than being funny, it's true. It's stuck with me and I think of it now every time I practice and each time I teach. I love that it's not about false humility or even boo-hoo-I'm-such-a-loser-I-can't-do-anything-right. Rather, it holds these qualities of pure possibility and this expansive not-knowing. And I love that when I think of it I feel s p a c e, as if I have some breathing room and the whole world is finally open and all it took was a simple exhale.

***

I got some new kicks, folks. Can't say they're pretty but boy I sure can run fast in 'em!

Today was one of those absolutely perfect LA days -- the temperature was just right and the traffic, bearable. Dre came with me this morning and took my class and then we hung out at the pool afterwards. So I practiced swimming. About a month ago at my company's quarterly meeting we had a guest speaker come in and talk to us about training for a triathlon. He's done the Ironman or something equally horrendous like about 130 times. (He's REALLY old. Just kidding.) Anyway... so he gave us a benchmark for each event. He said for swimming, best case scenario, a half mile in the ocean is 9 minutes and worst case is 27. Which was magic to my ears because I thought "27 minutes?! I can do ANYTHING for 27 minutes!" And I set out to prove to myself how easy this would be when I went to Mexico last week. I waded out in the water, set my chronometer, and started swimming. First I swam east, then I hooked north, then pulled a U-y and turned back south. It felt like I had been paddling for at least a good 8 or so minutes, which by my calculations would put me in great position for the rest of my training. Exhausted, I looked down at my watch... 53 SECONDS. I thought I read it wrong. Sadly, I had not. Holy shit. Not good.

So today I figured I should probably start training. My friend Denean gave me some great tips that I'm using, and also I'm trying to swim for time so I set my watch and swam until I was tired. Five minutes. Okay, so this is progress. Granted, it's a pool and not the ocean, but what I noticed most importantly is that when I pulled my belly in (in yoga we call this uddhyana bandha, which, loosely translated means, "pretend like you didn't eat your weight in nachos in Mexico"), my body became much more efficient. Duh, right?! At least now I'm inspired to keep swimming. I totally wish I could get someone else to do it for me, but I committed so I'm gonna have to just man up.

After swimming and grocery shopping, I went for a run. How I love the Pacific. How I hate the 4th Street Stairs, but they're good for me so I did 'em anyway. I could only do 4 sets, or about 12 million stairs, which I'm sure will keep giving tomorrow. As I ran, I thought about a statistic that I'd recently read: 1/4th of the world's population does not have access to clean drinking water. 1/4TH!!!! That is staggering. I drink about a gallon of it a day without a second thought. And here I am, thousands of miles away, spending a leisurely Sunday afternoon swimming and running and worrying if I look fat. Seriously??! I know it's cliche, but I'll say it anyway -- it puts things in perspective.

Well, I'm doing swimmingly, thank you. / January 30, 2007 by vanessa

Because I work for a company and because companies like to do "team" events, one of our corporate team-building thingies this year is the Malibu Triathlon. If we were really team-building we'd do each of the three events tied to a partner, like a three-legged triathlon. Instead we are grouping in relay teams with each person completing 1 of the legs. I signed up for running, as did apparently every other person in my company. When word got around that everyone signed up for running and no one wanted to do the swim, I switched camps. "You're awesome," is the response I received from our event coordinator. Hold the accolade Matt, there are a couple things you should know: First, I am not a swimmer. I think I can maybe do like 2 laps in a pool. With a kickboard. Second, I *hate* cold water. I've been to Barton Springs like about 100 times and actually in the water maybe twice. I'm bettin' the Pacific is colder than the Springs. I'm trying to tell you that by the time I get out of the water, it may have turned seasons.

My roommate, (who I'm now calling The Coveter for reasons I won't disclose here), thinks I'm a glutton for hardship. She presented the cleanse and this swim bullshit as evidence. I reminded her that I'm just "slow". In truth, I like a good challenge. Fortunately, my friend Denean is a super swimmer and she's graciously responded to my pleas for help with tips about vestibular-something, cochlear-this-n-that, and spacial stuff. I'm in good hands.

***
Day 8 of my cleanse is nearly behind me and speaking of behind, I've lost 6 lbs. Which I gotta say is only barely worth the horrible shakes I've been enduring from the candy withdrawals. If methadone was part of this cleanse, I'd be all over it. The first few days were a breeze, and then I got handed a bunch of Visio work, and Visio is enough to push anyone over the edge. I'd build a few steps, add some connectors, and then start picturing the taste of a dark chocolate caramel. The thing is, I wanna shake this sugar monkey. I don't want to just hold out til the end of 21 days, swiftly returning to its clutches. No, no, no. I want to drop it like last year's skinny jeans, never to return again. (Please God, no more skinny jeans. Or sugar.) And now, I'm a third of the way through and my determination still has a pulse. It's quiet, but I poked it with a stick and it gnawed back so that's I think enough to get me to the other side.