Monthly Archives: January 2015

That “moment” in Knitting…

UntitledYou know you have hit an all time low with your knitting “career” when you rip out an ENTIRE cabled hat. Yep, ripped that thing right out.

You know that moment when you finally draw the yarn through those remaining last stitches? You pull them through, and start thinking “YES! YES! YES! I made it! Muahahahhahahahhaha” <– insert mad scientist laugh (or really a laugh from a lady that has been knitting non-stop for 5 hours and has tipped over into deranged lady in her pajamas…). Then you calmly weave in your ends (or not) <— I’m a good girl and have gotten to a point in which I will weave all my ends in before rushing off to the mirror. Someone give me a sticker.

But then the moment happens. Boom! All weaved in. You jump up, step on a damn hot wheels car, spiral into the food pantry, bounce out then hurl yourself into the bathroom, all the while slipping the precious beanie onto your head. Kinda reminds of a drunk falling over with a drink in their hand, they are ALL messed up, but nothing was spilt. That is how a knitter feels as she runs to the mirror to see the heavenly creation that she created.

Then she slides in like Tom Cruise, to only see that the damn cap looks TERRIBLE. Like who is this thing knit for?? Well it can go 2 ways; You either knit it for Yoda’s pea ass head or for an 8 ft. tall Yeti.

“Ugh…. Noooo…. Fuuuuuuuu…. Daaaaammmmnnnn” <— All that while you adjust your hair, move the cap around, stretch it out, magically make it smaller, insert more hand movements that don’t help for squat. ** I just had to stop typing and pull down on my cheeks as I relive the dread one feels when “blocking in right out” is NOT gonna help.

5 hours of my life wasted…. **heavy breathing**….**teeth clenching**… If I had a cat, I’d kick a damn cat (sorry cat lovers). Then you just walk back to your beloved green chair, THROW the beanie (then hustle right after it because it will BE someones). Aaaannnnnd cast on… While staring at that cap with hate…. k1,p1,k1,p1,k1….FUUUUUUCCCC….*tink, tink,tink,tink*…k2,p2,k2,p2,k2…

UntitledBut hey, there are Eureka moments. Like the one above. That right there is not posed, I was FLIPPING thrilled! It came out perfect.

Felt like a bad ass. That there pic is EXACTLY how I feel inside, and yeah, maybe I do DO that (I really do).

I can knit ALL DAY SON! ALL DAY! Then I walk back to my beloved green chair, slam my phone down into the couch just like I scored a touch down, fall to my knees, and start laughing like a HAPPY mad man, then to only crawl over to my phone, pick it up because YOU KNOW, I gotta INSTAGRAM that heavenly creation baby!

Ah, yes, the ups and downs of knitting, no?


Horny for a Training Climax


Well I am going to use my training as a platform for week 3 Blogger Challenge. The challenge was to MAKE something. Now, I make something EVERYDAY. So this topic was a little tough for me because I wanted it to be different. Hell you all know I knit, whats different about that? And whats challenging about? Its easy to write about.

So I am MAKING an EFFORT to keep the world (and myself) up to date with my training. I’ll totally admit that I am HAPPILY a secret trainer. My workouts are MINE, not yours. They are my precious moments of clarity, that I use to survive day by day. Though they are mine, I thought you would like to see the real moments and hard work that is going to have to go into this year. I have been given so much support from all the people who have purchased my KNITTY caps, I want to share. You just didn’t purchase a cap to warm your noggin, you have kinda become one of my sponsors. Each cap has been personal, maybe you just see a cap, but I see me one step closer to getting to my race, and am extremely thankful that you have supported my crazy endeavor.


Lets be honest up front, getting into the groove this time around as been mentally hard. I have no motivation. No “umph”. The spunk I have has kinda decided to chill back with a corona and some kettle cooked oil & vinegar potato chips, and completely not give a shit if I do anything or not. I keep reaching in my workouts for the climax, I feel like I am reaching…reaching…reaching, but cant grab that motivation that rolls me forward.

Lets get crazy, and totally inappropriate (this is a heads up). To me the best way to describe it, is like an orgasm (yep, crossed the line). Well an orgasm that didn’t happen. Yeah, things feel good (like workouts make you feel better about yourself), and they build up (you are kinda consistent for a couple days, feeling proud of yourself), but. you. cant. quite. get. there.  Then the moment is done, and your pissed off and just want to walk away and forget it all. Normally in an orgasm (for women, because who knows how men work), reaching the “WOW” moment is COMPLETELY mental. Things are totally happening the right way, but if you mentally lose focus… Boom its over, you lost it and its not coming back.

So what I am saying is, all the parts are working, but my mind just isn’t there. But I am totally horny for a training climax. <— I wish I could see your faces as you read this. Are you blushing? Cause I totally am.


Though in a bit of a slump, I have been surrounded by the most inspiring people. Lets start with Martin & Bethany from Living Vandal, oh and “the best dog in the world”, Katie Lou. Just this past weekend en route back home from the Cold Stroke Classic, they graciously stopped by Jacksonville to:

1. Check out Hanna Park and get in a fun trail run.
2. Invite me and the kids to their campsite to check out their bad ass VAN they do all their adventures in (I am totally getting one, completely serious), all the while loading the kids up on smores.
3. Spend nearly 3 hours with me on a lake (and dry land) going over the science and biomechanics of the sport of Paddling. It was the most intense lesson I have ever been part of… ever.

Now a shout out to them. You guys not only gave me a great start into my SUP training, the both of you also came at a time I really needed some adult interaction. Really you guys saved me those 2 days. Its hard to explain, but please know I am extremely thankful for fighting the mayberry police, adult interaction and a great day out on the water. Thank you.


This post is almost turning into a grateful post, but really training lately has been all mental. There will be posts where I share my workouts, but honestly the mental game has been my biggest challenge so far in starting my training year. The people around me (well via social media, and by chance in person) have been part of my training. I feel its appropriate to describe them in my “training post”

Last but not least, my biggest motivator that has been keeping me afloat is my Coach Audra. I remember one of the biggest draws that had me first work with Audra nearly 6 years ago (damn, been awhile huh? She was my first personal trainer), was that she was a little hard core, bad ass, extremely professional and was/is a mom. She’s been there done that. Lived the military life. Knows what its like to want to be YOU, not just mom, but YOU. Though she takes no prisoners, she has had the most profound impact on my life via her compassion to her athletes. She’s known what I need, when I need it. Like this voice message she sent me when she knew I was in a dark place mentally with my training…

“We all go through this Christina. Where we all feel like we have no motivation and cant get up and do what we need to do, and its like ‘why the fuck am I doing this anyway? Its the same monotonous bullshit day after day‘. But then you get up and you do it one day, and it feels good. And the next day you want to go longer and you want to push harder. And it feels better. You just have to get over the fucking hump. And trust me, even the most motivated world class athletes go through this. You are not alone babe. Just get up, fucking get on your bike. Ride, I don’t care how fast you go, or how hard you go just get up and fucking do it. Love you.”

Reading it may sound a little harsh, but she said it in the most caring way. Sometimes I guess you need someone to tell you to “just get up and fucking do it.”

So welcome to my mental game. I promise to keep it as real as possible. Training for anything while trying to maintain life is a challenge in itself. But if you really want something, you can make it happen. The only thing holding you back is yourself. Don’t blame others, because in the end you LET them be there. Its all on you. Its hard. Its mental. You may be horny for a training climax.

In the end though, as Coach A. says, “just get up and fucking do it.”

100 Miles, Ocean & Sharks

Screen Shot 2015-01-22 at 9.35.58 AM“Egh…. Ugh… Mothertrucker.”

I think I have repeated that there sentence (is that even a complete sentence?) about 15 times.

Just saying this now, that this post just maybe be EVERYWHERE.

So last week I saw that the dates were set for the California 100 Mile paddle! Woo! Exciting. Today I started wondering, when will NY be? A little creeping and I see in comments that the NY race is still up in the air. <—-“Egh…. Ugh… Mothertrucker.”

Flashback to last week, I just about signed up for California. Step into my mind of what I was thinking…

    • I am anxious
    • I want it set in stone.
    • I’ve knitted my fingers off to save for registration.
    • Also it can be a 30th birthday trip for me! I am FROM California.
    • Oh… Being from California I can easily rally up a support crew. <— That being said anyone interested and or have jet skis/boat that would like to be my lifeline?
    • My hands are gonna be wrecked…
    • I need a date…
    • Will I be recovered to sneak in an Ironman?
    • California? How far is that?
    • What are plane tickets?
    • Where would I stay?
    • Ocean…. Shit its in the ocean.
    • Mothertruckin Sharks.



Lets work with those 2 words right now.

Now I never wrote an official report, but last year Joe and I went down to Key West for the Race the Reef 6 Mile race. The details were cool… They take you out 6 miles in a catamaran, and you paddle your ass back to shore. Now it was SUPER cool. Ive never been on a catamaran, but it was a little windy that day. For some reason I thought I would be paddling through mangroves, not clinging to my board for dear life. Seriously, the challenge was just STAYING on your board. We were downwind which was great, but it was so choppy… Choppy doesn’t explain it, it was like riding waves. There were paddlers laying on their boards because they were so seasick. We got our asses tossed around. There was nothing easy about clinging to your board, while trying to paddle yourself to shore. The ocean had its way with us that day.

On a river (NY race), you can kinda guess conditions, you have land on both sides, it doesn’t seem that intimidating. But the ocean? You cant trust that bitch (sorry for the language).

Its hard. The CA race could be harder. <— Once I had that thought “It could be hard”, I knew in my mind that I would have to do it.

What? Am I being a scared little punk? Yes. But… I don’t know, we do these things because they are a challenge. Its like signing up for an Ironman but looking for the EASIEST one <— What kind of challenge is that? Its as if you are already bitching out (more language, just get over it, I am raging on a 5 hour, I am sure I will curse some more). The reason you do and Ironman is because its something HARD that you CHALLENGE yourself to complete.

Ugh, I get mad at myself. “Ca race? No no no… thats too hard… “<— insert mocking voice. <— No, that right there is why I should do it.

Now along with MAYBE not having cooperating seas, there are SHARKS. Flipping sharks. Or just big ass animals in the water. Ill be honest I don’t want to see ANYTHING in the water. Nope. I don’t like thinking that there is something the size of my car below me. Its scary. Yep, I am scared. Its stupid, but its a fear. <— Another reason to do CA, embrace my fears.

So what am I saying? “Egh…. Ugh… Mothertrucker. Im gonna have to do that race”.

But I need a little feed back… What do YOU think? Wait it out, and hope for the NY race to come through. Or scare the shit out of myself and paddle from L.A to San Diego?


**I need to knit me A CRAP TON more caps**

How Does Age Define Me?


Apparently Ive been hiding. Not purposely. Just hiding. It wasn’t till yesterday did I realize (after putting together random “hints” from friends, a breakdown to my sister, and reading my journal entires) that I have stayed up in my bedroom for a week! Think the worst, and thats it. All week. Once it hit me I kinda jumped out of bed said “OH SHIT.” then ran downstairs where I rearranged all the furniture and decided I wouldn’t be in my bedroom at all, only to sleep. <— Rearranged all the furniture? Yeah, even the kids thought I was crazy.

But this post isn’t to talk about crazy, ^^ That up there was to inform you that I’ve been lost in-between the sheets, pajamas, knitting and Supernatural (I heart the Winchester Boys). This post is a post I should have done last week about AGE and how it defines me.

I have survived 29 years of life in this grand world and am in my 30th year.

I want to say age is just a number. I have thought that for the past 5 years. When I was 21 and newly married, I wasn’t old enough. Once I hit 25 I thought I had some credibility as a person, then didn’t really care for the numbers 26, 27, 28 and 29.

30 though, shit. I am a little older now. I don’t mean it in being “old”. Hell, until I was 25 I still felt like I was 17, then after 25 I still felt like I was 21…

What turning 30 means to me this year is…

1. Im in the big girl age bracket. It seems all the billy bad asses tend to be in their 30’s and if I plan on placing in ANY sport I’m into, I better wake up and get to work.

2. Maybe people will take me a just a tad more seriously. Most (maybe all?) of my close friends are older than me. I am surrounded by people just a tad older and mentioning that I am happily in my 20’s seems to knock me down a few on the totem pole of life. Its annoying.


3. Will turning 30 will make me feel grown up? <— This is a hard one because I still ask myself “what are you going to be when you grow up?”. To ME, turning 30 means you should kinda have your shit figured out. With this thought I feel like a cat being thrown into the water, it does whatever it can do to avoid it… Thats me. Only because I am not ready yet. What AM I supposed to be when I grow up? Whats the official age? Geez Christina, get your stuff together.

If I wrote this post a year or 2 ago, I would proclaim that my young age does NOT define me. I am a strong, and somewhat smart woman. Treat me like an adult… Now as I write this though, I am reaching back for my 20’s, thinking “I needed those years to get more done”. This age is throwing me into the pit of the REAL world.

The BIG girl inside of me looks at this year as a challenge. I have set up some big goals that I am super excited to accomplish (paddling 100 miles, c’mon, AMAZING, the training alone will be life changing). The ADULT in me says “Finally! We are here. We learned so much the past decade, we are now PREPARED for the next. Its going to be epic.”.

I need to stop digging my heels into the dirt and jump headfirst into my 30’s, not letting myself be pushed in. Actually I kinda want to gracefully swan dive into my 30’s strong and confident… I think I’ll do just that…

A “Love” Letter from Mark & Words from Teddy

UntitledMy hubs isn’t the most romantic of men (like AT ALL). It sounds mean, but I guess more with the romance we see in the movies and read about <— Is that even real? Pshh. It can be tough at times to accept that its just the way that person is, and to appreciate how he DOES love you.

I’ve been married going on 8 years. 6 duty stations. 2 kids. Lived in another country.
I’ve learned a lot and so little at the same time. I’ve been impatient and demanding. Same vice-versa with him. Again though he is isn’t the romancer, he is the greatest supporter. Now Ill be honest and say that we have had our short comings, I’ve been left in the dust at times, broken and sad. But I’ve come to realize that we were both sitting in the dust with so much dirt in our eyes that we were blinded to the fact that we HAD each other.

Though he can fail in scooping me up in a white horse with awesome hair, flowers, and a box of chocolates. HE CAN come in like a coach and give it to me straight and build me up.

I had to share an email from Mark. A response from a batshit crazy filled day. But I feel it didn’t just apply to me, it can apply to any of us that are alone or FEEL alone…

I love you.  The reason you feel alone is because you are alone.  When
your friends are gone and the kids are at school you are alone in an
empty house.  It doesn’t help I am gone all the time and can’t help to
fill you up between being at work and coming home.  It’s ok and its

The big thing though is that you have to find something that CONSUMES
your day.  Working out, cleaning the house, checking out a new place you
heard/read, take a class even if it isn’t a college course but just a
short course like art, computer, photography, etc.  Keep your days full
to keep you from reflecting on that feeling of being alone.

Focus on the positives.  You do have the kids, while they aren’t me, at
least you’re with people who love you and are learning.  Take them to a
kid’s museum if there is one in JAX.  Enjoy seeing them learn new things
and have new experiences.

Even with a full day, you’ll have days
where you wish I was doing the damn dishes or asking why you are
listening to an idiot teach you something you already know.  Just know
that I know you don’t feel like this all the time.

Remember your mantra for the new year – focus on the positive.  Whenever
you feel alone instead of focusing on that think of something you can do
with the time.  It will be hard to fight the momentum, but you’ll feel
better for doing it.  It’s like getting a workout in when your tired,
you feel better when you are done.

You’re TOUGH!  Keep plugging through. Take advantage of the times you
feel good.  Allow yourself to have your break downs and then after dust
yourself off, wipe your tears and get back in.  There is NO CRYING IN

Last thing I leave you with this:

The Man in the Arena by Theodore Roosevelt
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the
strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them
better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly;
who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort
without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the
deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends
himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph
of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails
while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold
and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

I hope this helps.  I love you.

Geesh, Mark just did a blog post for me. Dust yourself. Randomly fist bump your neighbor. Get shit done.

A Bed of Honesty & Anxiety Attack SR

UntitledYou know, there are times that I like rolling around on this bed of honesty (this blog) <– Bed of honesty, I totally just made that up . Seriously though, this (bed of honesty/blog) right here is my journal.

“Hello Journal”

Thursday I had a bad day. More like a DARK day.  It was over for me. Not in a suicidal way, but I really thought I had maxed out. I suck at everything. I don’t do enough for my kids. Why is there so much shit that needs to be done? I am failing at life, my family, and whoever it is who I want to be when I grow up (yeah, Im flipping Peter Pan, and have NOT grown up yet. Remember, Christina doesn’t get old).

Ahhh…. Ahhh…. Now as I calmly look back, there really wasn’t much to freak out about. Its the accumulation of things that all of a sudden smack you in the face on a bad day that can send you down a deep deep deep hole.

There was the semi-sane person in my head that tried to keep me calm, “Calm down Chris, your going to give yourself a heart attack. Lets avoid a panic/anxiety attack” <– Thing is, I was already having one. Not an intense fall on the floor, while grabbing your throat and crying to your mom on the phone panic attack… But a nice prolonged one. Anxiety Attack SR (slow release).

Scary part is that you don’t outwardly see all this. It stays bottled up inside. I still go through the routine of life, taking care of kids, running errands, but inside I am clenching my teeth and holding on for dear life. I did have tears that fell down while driving.

Tears of hope lost and disappointment in myself for not being able to pull through. “You’re stronger, this will be over…. No, you’re done. Just fall over and admit to the world you cant do these things… All you need to do is workout, get back into a routine… Why are still even trying to do triathlons? Do you have something to prove? No one cares. You don’t care…” <—– Do you see this scary/crazy?

Once tears come, well that normally triggers a full on anxiety attack. Recently Lisa did a post on having an anxiety attack. To me, the key thing in the post is having the fear of dying. Now of course we don’t die and don’t want to die, but your body takes you to a place where hope is gone and you think its the end. Along with the mental bat shit crazy thoughts that go through your head, I want to take you to what it feels like…

Imagine yourself laying down. Now I am going to place about 200 lbs of cement on your chest, you feel that pressure? That right there is the first part, you all of a sudden let your stresses gain weight and they start taking your breath away. As you lay there having a hard time breathing, imagine someone coming up to you and choking you. Yep, maybe think of an evil twin looking you straight into the eyes and choking you, with eyes that don’t give a shit and want you to give up. There is no calling out for help (you cant breathe), oh and don’t think of using your arms to help lift the pressure off your chest (you’re way to depressed to even move). Add more pressure, and the strangling gets tighter, you’re running out of air, the world hates you, oh and you are going to die. Ever have those dreams of dying? Or you are about to die? Like you car flys off a cliff, or a zombie is going to eat your brain out, and in that dream you have that one split second of thinking “shit I am going to die”. That is how you feel, but you aren’t in a damn dream, its REAL LIFE.

Gosh it makes me sick to admit all that. *Shrug* Its life though. We/I bounce back. Some people unfortunately don’t.

Yesterday there was a post floating around my Facebook feed ’11 Habits of People with Concealed Depression’. Its a good post. To me though, only people with depression will…
1.Read it
2. Share It <— We share it for OTHERS who don’t experience these problems to be AWARE of the problems. But those people will probably scan right over it. But then there are the people who are dealing with depression that read it and think “Phew, at least EVERYONE else like me feels this way. I am not alone.” <— That right there is why I talk about my batshit crazy mind (I hate the word ‘depression’, may I use batshit crazy? Egh, that sounds too crazy. Ill just stick to MY crazy”).

Along with the post, there was a comment about feeling narcissistic when talking about your own personal depression (don’t take it serious or personal, it just made me think of things). The comment left me questioning myself “Am I narcissistic?” <— Hell no. The only thing that applies to me that is part of the definition of narcissistic is being SELF ABSORBED. Yep, I am. Self absorbed with my mental health, because in the end it will project into my family. I share because… well… writing is my form of therapy. Also my very first post EVER on depression gave a lot of feedback, and not feedback of “Im here for you” (there was that) but MOSTLY emails/texts/messages that whispered “me too”.

Since my first post I have been open in sharing. Someone has to be. SOMEONE has to be. In the end I really don’t care what the MAJORITY thinks, my own mind hurts me enough, so I can take a couple of hits off my own personal armor from the people who want to be mean or nasty.

I get so lost on purpose of posts… I just wanted to talk…

Shit happens. You’re not alone. You WILL bounce back. You WILL accomplish great things.

Oh, and note: Ill be the first to admit, I STRONGLY DISLIKE blogs about depression. I won’t read them. NOPE. I’ve tried, and have come out feeling MORE depressed. So totally understand those that done like to read about it… But sometimes once you read through someones bad day, and you see that THEY came through, well that gives you a bit of hope 🙂

Why Would You Say That?

IMG_9907“Don’t you get nervous posting what you do?”

Um, yes and no. I really don’t get nervous till AFTER the fact. Like…

“Did I say too much?”
“What if they take it the wrong way?”
“Who the hell do you think you are posting shit like that?”
“Everyone knows inside of you now”
“You just shared too much.”
“You’ve shown your weakness.”
“People will hate your honesty.”

So yeah, I DO get nervous. Then I remember that this is MY space, and YOU (the reader) have decided to read it and base your own opinions. You may read it wrong, or completely disagree, but we are all different.

There are plenty of times I will be driving and give my self a panic attack thinking that people know too much of me. I think of EVERYONE (people I don’t even know) reading into my life. Its a scary feeling.

IMG_9900What calms me though, is the fact that I know I am being true to myself, by openly being truthful with the crazy I live. Also getting random messages from readers (people I don’t even know), thanking me for a post. It lets me know that maybe I doing the right thing. Maybe I cant change the world on a LARGE scale, but somehow, I let someone else know that they aren’t alone, or maybe I made them laugh. Those things make me so very happy.

Another scary/awkward moment is when I am talking to a random friend and they will quote something I wrote, or bring up something I would TYPE but would never say… That has happened plenty of times where I stare at them thinking “OMG, how do they know that.”, they must see the slight terror on my face because its usually followed with “I was reading your blog…” <— Phew! Thought I was going crazy or you’re  a mind reader. Geez, I cant believe I put that up for the world to see.

IMG_9904The times I meet people that have been reading my posts on and off for years are the coolest people I meet. They are usually people I have been following for quite some time as well, and we have this instant connection once we realize who each other are…

Then there are people that are so close to me and I don’t even know them, but they have read 8 years back on my blog and know my soul. Totally creepy and awesome. Insert panic attack though as I try and think of all the crazy shit, and layers of Christina they have seen. But they seem to be smiling, so I am going to guess they have accepted me. Thank you. You are creepy and make my heart happy. <— Not gonna lie, I have creeped back on PLENTY of bloggers. They are my bestfriend/soul mate and don’t even know it yet. <—- Insert creepy face.

IMG_9905In the end I don’t really blog for others. I blog for myself. I blog what stirs me to blog. “Stirs me to blog”, that sounded dumb. I guess its another selfish moment of doing something for myself.

A lot of what I say here, I have a hard time saying out loud. Or maybe I don’t have, or more like, I have a hard time speaking EVERYTHING that I convey here. Then sometimes, I write to remind everyone that this is ME. This is me DIRECTLY. Not what you hear from someone else. I am a very good person to come directly to the source to.

IMG_9901I feel like this line from the movie The Birdcage (all time favorite movie). Robin Williams character just got into a fight with his son who wanted to hide the fact that he is gay (and runs a drag cub with his lover, who happens to be the star <– You totally need to see the movie) in front of his fiancee parents. It took a long time for Robins character to find out who he was, and he wasn’t going to throw it away for some senator …

Thats kinda how I feel when questioned why I am who I am and choose to display it. It has taken a long time to get here, and I am still working on “here”… So f*ck the senator.