Ode to The Spanky

Everyone knows I love horses. I had my own. The love of my life. The love of my life since I was 14-years-old.

I went to the High Cascades 100 race in Bend, Oregon on July 15, 2017. It didn't go well. I was pulled due to severe dehydration and I couldn't make it. I'm no longer the athlete I used to be. In fact, due to seeing my blog being read by someone at work, I decided to look at previous entries from 2013 and yonder. Man... was I a different person. 

I was clearly upset since I didn't finish this race for a second year in a row, and I had to come to terms that I couldn't ride that distance anymore, especially with the little to no training I have and could even do at the time. I wasn't feeling well due to the dehydration, and I should have actually gone to the ER, but I didn't want to have to deal with work (lol) being pissy about it. 

On the morning of July 16, 2017, I woke up to a voice message saying that Mac has colicked through the night and wasn't recovering... that it was most likely his last day. 

I still have that voice message. 

My heart sank. I called as right after I heard the message and talked to his caretaker, my best friend's mom, and my second mom. I kept crying because I made the decision to let go of the one thing that I knew would always be there for me and who had been there for me since I was 14. 

I lost part of my heart that day, and there was no getting it back. 

The Spanky is the horse that taught me some huge lessons in life. He's the one who never judged me or ridiculed me for my mistakes, the one who truly forgave me for the horribles mistakes I've made in life. He taught me that every mistake is a lesson in life, and every time you learn something new, it makes you a better person. He taught me what true forgiveness felt like and what true unconditional love is. 

Ge taught me some lessons the hard way, too. He taught me that you don't have to be a brute to be firm. You don't have to be calloused to be disciplined. You don't have to be mean to teach. He taught me that sometimes you have to take a step back and recollect yourself. He also taught me that sometimes you just have a bad day and don't want to do anything. On those days he'd buck me off, and you know what? That's okay. 

Mac had been in my life for 16 years. He let me try everything, from poles, to herding horses, to jumping, eventing, dressage, and endurance. He was always willing to let me learn. He didn't yell or get mad, he didn't hold a grudge, he taught me and he let me learn. He wasn't shy about letting me know when I made a mistake, and he was always so firm, but gentle, when he corrected me. 

The Spanky and me when I was 14 and he was 7

Because of him I know that you don't have to be an asshole to correct a mistake. 

A huge part of my life is gone and I'm completely devastated. I made so many mistakes along the way but he never hated me for them, he never looked at me like I was a fuck up. He knew me for who I was. I was his caretaker, his rider, his teammate. 

I was his person, and he was my horse. 

I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Spanky. I wish I could give you one last kiss. In times like these, where I wish I wouldn't wake up, I need you the most. To hug that big neck and cry into it, just like you would let me. I'd always calm down because your breathing would always help me. 

I love you and miss you so much. I wish I had you. You were only 23-years-old. I wanted to see you again when I finally left Washington. I've needed you so much these past three months. I should have been with you... but you're no longer in pain. I'll see you when my time comes. 

The Helper

My entire goal in life has been to be able to help people. That goal got a bit diverted, but I had a Come-To-Jesus moment and I've snapped out of my slump, which lasted nearly three years. Do you know how a three-year slump feels? Shitty. It feels shitty. I know other's have had longer slumps but this is all I could take. No more. No more... It nearly threw me over the edge.    

                                     

Anyway, my goal was to help people. Unfortunately I was unable to to continue my education and get my PhD/PsyD because it was going to cost me $250,000. I didn't want to go that deep into debt, so I decided to enlist. We know that story.

Fuck my life.

But it's not all bad. I know what truly hitting rock bottom is. I've lost nearly everything. Because of that, I realized that I want to help people again. It sucks feeling so horrible, and if I can help someone not feel like crap, I'll do it. I'll try as hard as I can.

My dear friend, Asa, then told me about becoming a representative for JuicePlus+. I looked into it and while I was a bit skeptical about the chews and capsules, I throughly enjoyed the bars and smoothie mixes. My biggest seller was the Tower Garden. If you're like me and live in a tiny ass apartment but love growing and having fresh vegetables, then this thing is spot on. I just got mine and it fits perfectly in my balcony.

How does this help people? First of all it's promoting growing fresh food. You know exactly what's being put into it. Gardening is also very therapeutic. While this isn't a typical garden, you still have to care for it. This thing made me smile even when I was just putting it together. It distracts you from the negativity that's going on around you.

I mean, heck, guys, I even have business cards and whatnot. It's like I'm official! Which I am... so... it's just a weird feeling, okay?

 I'll be posting updates on my cute little garden. Stay tuned!

The Lost Girl

I think that one of the biggest disappointments in my life is that I mostly followed The American Dream. I moved to this country, went to school, graduated college. I couldn't find a job with my college degree and I found out that student loans don't help with bills or with getting a job. Because I didn't want to go into a deeper debt hole, I decided to skip furthering my education and didn't enroll into any Master's or PhD/PsyD programs. I was pretty much stuck with many other people who were well educated but couldn't find a job. I was completely lost. To help with that lostness, I decided to join the military.

 

Let me tell you, I'm even more lost and disappointed than when I was a jobless graduate. Which really sucks, because I was so excited when I wrote that entry back in 2014. A career change, a new life, a steady paycheck... everything seemed brighter. It's a damn shame it didn't turn out that way.

I think I'm even more lost because I lost pretty much everything since I've joined the military. I lost most of my friends and family, I lost my marriage, I lost my fitness, and I've nearly lost my motivation.


I lost myself.


I have always had a great support group. My friends back home are supportive, my cycling circle of friends are fun and encourage each other. In my current rate in the military, people stab each other in the back for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
I told one of my supervisors that I was getting out of the military after I did my tour in San Diego. Whether that's true or not, who knows? If that command is anything like my current one then I will leave and happily never return, however, I've heard differently. When my supervisor asked me why I wanted to leave the military, the reasons where:

• I'm a 30-year old woman who is told where she can live and nearly got my home, animals, and bikes taken away from me because of my divorce, which, and I told him, this command caused
• I'm a 30-year old woman who is told she cannot train because she has to do "group PT," which normally consists of chasing a fucking Frisbee. I'm training for the High Cascades 100; the training that I do for that race will improve me a lot more than fucking around with a bunch of people who have never been on a bike for more than 5 miles
• The Navy caused my divorce, and yes, I have said this to my supervisor's face
• It has caused more stress and weight gain than I like to admit
• People stab each other in the back instead of empowering and encouraging each other

I think the most disappointing part about those bullet points is that when I said "People stab each other in the back," all my supervisors can say is, "Well, that's just the nature of the rate." Excuse me? So I should just accept that some 20-year old punk is blaming me for something for absolutely no reason and accept the consequence? Women couldn't vote in the early 1900s but there my ass is, voting. Why should people just accept that the rate is a bunch of backstabbers instead of changing that horrible environment? Sorry, but that just doesn't go well with me at all. In fact, it makes me sick that people let that shit slide. Change is good. Change the rate. Make better standards. Stop being stupid fucks!


I refuse to accept such a stupid, lame, and lazy excuse.


So, because I was tired of the environment and my lack of training, I took leave for 23 days, which I'll write about later because it was an amazing trip. I rode over 500 miles, got faster, happier, and healthier.


People in the military don't like it when you practice self-improvement.

I came back to an extremely negative environment, which I knew I would, but since I was with so many supportive and amazing people on my trip, I decided that since I can't change people at work, I'll change myself. So far, not much has gotten on my nerves on my first three days back. I only have 60 days left in Washington, and my goal is to make them as positive and happy as possible. Will it be hard? Oh, yes, but it'll keep me healthier, the weight loss will still be coming (14 pounds so far!), and I'll be the girl racer I once was. With my best friends and happy family.

Always keep this in mind: Do no harm, take no shit. Keep your head down and your chin up. Uplift people, help them get to their potential. And fuck the haters, because they'll just deviate you from your goals.


Wish me luck! And good luck to you all!

The Mediocre Athlete

I've never been an awesome athlete. I used to be a terrible jumper. My hand strength and grip are terrible. In Middle School, I couldn't even do a full sit up. I was just one of those kids who wasn't athletic. I mean, I was a pretty good softball player and I could jump for balls (I was the catcher), but that was after hours and hours of practice.

How terrible is it for a Mexican kid to not be able to jump? I completely killed the stereotype so when people made fun of me for "jumping the fence" I couldn't even laugh. If I had come into this country by hopping a fence, I'd probably still be in Mexico.

In fact, people still see me and they don't see an athlete. Most people at work didn't even know I could run as fast, or as far, as I do now, which took years and mile after mile, hundreds of miles, to be able to run as fast and as long as I do now. Hell, I'm a marathon runner now. I still suck at sit ups but at least I can do them now. People also don't know that I'm a cyclist. I used to be much better than I am now because I used to have the time to put in the miles. I was competitive at one point, but that also took thousands of miles to accomplish.

The reality of me is that I'm such an untalented athlete that I have to train very hard to be mediocre at best. 

But that lack of talent is what makes me work so hard. I work really hard because I know that I suck at a lot of things, so I train. 

Trying to set goals when time gets taken away from you is hard. Trying to balance a time-consuming job, cycling/running training and racing, and trying to spend time with someone other than your cats can take its toll, especially when you want to snuggle and every cat rejects you. Even the needy one. I mean... what the fuck? Something has to be sacrificed. And I've been thinking a lot about what I want to give up or what I need to put on hold. At this point, I decided to put the Navy in the back burner and decided to get my fitness back. Fitness first, job that I'm not able to quit second. I'm still getting my quals, don't get me wrong, but I won't sacrifice sleep and training for it. At least not on purpose. Also, the more fit I am, the better I feel, and the better I'll most likely do my job... so, if we want an example of cognitive dissonance, there you have it.

I'm still pretty hurt about my cats rejecting some snuggles, though.

Starting this StrongMan shit adds to it. The stuff is so cool yet so hard to do. I see people at the gym killing it, and I can hardly lift a 115-pound atlas stone. But I'm able to do it more and more each day. I've gotten several PRs lately, which is pretty fucking cool. I think that the reason that I don't hit PRs more quickly is because I'm a living example of the self-fulfilling prophecy; I've been told and I believe that I'm such a mediocre athlete that I don't actually believe I can become a great athlete.

I'm ready to return to my mediocre competitiveness. So ready, that I signed up for a 100-mile mountain bike race in Bend, Oregon, and I'm debating on whether I'm going to sign up for the StrongMan meet at the gym I go to in June. Signing up for stupid shit is what keeps me going when shit keeps hitting the fan.

Here's to being mediocre!

A Quick Update... Stay Tuned!

Oh, life. What can I even say about you at this point?

I haven't posted since I did my my adventure race, which was in 2015. To say I've been neglecting this poor blog is an understatement. However, I can assure you that I have gotten very out of shape since that adventure race. It wasn't really by choice. I haven't been able to work out as much as I usually do due to work, but I think most of you know how much I bitch about that. I've been changing that recently, though. I joined a powerlifting/strong man gym, and after a while of working out at the place, I decided to pay one of the personal trainers to kick my ass twice a week. Legit giving her money to hurt me.

Okay, so it's a little better than that. I keep saying that I'm out of shape but I've ran two marathons and several half marathons since that adventure race, mostly without much training. Thankfully my "out of shape" is most people's in shape, at least for endurance bullshit. I mean, the marathons hurt but I finished them strong. How many people can say that want to run a marathon just because?

Not many, because they're not as stupid as I am. 

I also have a bunch of cats now. It's pretty cool. They're mostly judgmental and they keep pushing everything off of the counters so Nova, my awesome dog, eats everything so he's super fat now. I keep calling one of them Tiny Satan because she's pretty much what I believe Satan would be in cat form. I think she'll eventually eat me if I sleep for too long.

I also got a divorce, so I believe my future will be a bunch of cats, but that's all I'm going to say about that subject because I'm still pretty sad about it. 

 I got eye surgery, too, so now I can see without glasses, and I also don't look like a complete jackass, which is what I look like when I wear glasses. So now when I wake up I no longer do the daily ritual of, "Where are my glasses? I need my glasses to see but I lost my glasses but I also need my glasses to be able to find my glasses." It was a stupid game and I'm glad I'm no longer playing it.

I still hate my current command because it's stupid and they way they run things is stupid and I don't like it. At all. I blame it for destroying the little family I had, but I've survived 2-1/2 years of that shit hole. I'm here for 6 more months. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now. And I can't wait to get out of Washington State. I'm so tired of the rain, and the gloom, and the rain. Everything is wet. Even the air is wet. What kind of fucking state is always fucking wet?

So that's what has been happening for the past couple of years. Not much, really. I'm now just more bitter and out of shape, but things seem to be turning around a little bit. I now can draw for the blog so I'm pretty excited about that. I have a few blog ideas so... keep your eyes peeled. My blog is finally coming back!