In the Water They Can’t See You Cry

So I’ve been feeling a bit low this week and for the life of me I can’t put my finger on it.

 

I think my moods a bit of a culmination of things really. Firstly I’ve not been training to hard just before my race and post race I’ve been very worn out. I don’t really feel like I did my self proud on race day either if I’m honest and that’s been bothering me. The main thing with it was my swim. I’m capable of such a better swim than that and on the day I fluffed it big time. I don’t even know why fully. I mean I had one goggle full of water and that really messed with my stroke. But I’m not really sure that in it’s self was enough,…. I think it might have been some nerves because of who I was swimming against. But that been said, I’ve swam on a national level I should have laughed about it,… idk. Another thing that’s been bothering me is I seem to be lacking power in my stroke. I don’t know where it’scome from, but one day I got in the pool a few weeks ago and I just realised I was going slower. I mean for me, noticably slower.

 

Now if you’re into sport and fitness you usually have a goto theraputic exercise. Mines swimming. I put my head down and I swim. I swim slow and stead, the world dissapearing around me and everything begins to feel right in the world again after a few hours of this. It’s like free therapy

 

Now hear in lyes the problem. My swim has been causing me no end of problems,…. how do I go to an exercise that I’m finding it hard to sustain or even enjoy at the moment?!? I felt stuck in limbo, not knowing which way was up. I was getting to that point where I needed a good cry. I nice relaxing cry just to get it out my system but not even sad films were working,…. was I broken, was there something wrong with me???

 

With university assignment deadlines looming something needed to be done….

 

So it was coming to the end of the week after the race. I’m not feeling 100%, but good enough to train again, nice and steadly. I needed to do something.

 

Now I don’t live to far away form my loval pool, It’s about 1.1 miles away. The problem is though that everyone knows me there. I don’t mean it in any bad way, but in some ways I’m always on show there if that makes sence? I decided I was going to go for my long run this easter sunday, except this time I took my swimming kit in my hydration rucksack. I’d decided that I was going to take a senic route to another pool at the other end of the city I live in, have my self a little swim and then run back.

 

I fueled up before I went for this run as usual and I set off. My legs were stagnant. I hadn’t run probely on them all week apart form a few miles on a treadmill. They were heavy, my lung hurt, my legs almost instantly were on fire,…. this is a feeling I enjoy. I worked through the pain, rythmicaly moving forward, no music just my own thoughts to keep me company. By the time I made it to the pool I was a sweating mess. 10 miles, it felt good to have my legs working again. I got changed in this unfermillia pool. The worry of using the womens changing rooms came into play. That’s all I needed on a day like to day was to get called out for using the “wrong” changing rooms. This worry , like always was in my head. I’ve not been confronted about this for well over two years now, but it’s always in the back of my mind.

 

I got in the pool and I started off slow and steady, keeping time, breathing, catch,… recovery,…. glide,… catch,….recovery,…. glide. At each end doing a fancy little tumble turn, I didn’t want to have to face the world. Not now, not yet. I kepy my head under water for as long as possible. I increased my speed, my arms powering through the water, stretching out with each stroke to pull my body through the water. and then it happened. It was a little at first, I hardly noticed it my self. I could have been mistaken, it could be sweat or any number or droplets of the gallons of chlorinated water. But then it hit me dare I say like a wave. I was crying, my arms methodicaly moving through the water as I cried between breaths. I would come up to breeth and between I would let the water wash away and filter out my emotions. I didn’t count the lengths I’d done nore the time it had taken. I just swam till I was done. Till I felt fulfilled.

 

I got out the pool like nothing had happened. Was any one the wiser to my out burst? My body dripping onto the laminate flooring I sat in the changing room creating my own pool at my feet. I was exsausted. Not just physicaly but emotionaly also. I few deep breaths later I composed my self and started to pull on my sweaty running clothes over my drenches skin untill I no longer looked like a swimmer, but a runner in altogether the wrong enviroment. I began to run home,… another 10 miles. I had only made it half way through today’s training but I felt like I had overcome some bigger obsticals than distance or time. My body didn’t know what to do, it was tiered, hungry, wet and cold. All the things that make for some interesting running. With the weight lifted off my shoulders I bounded home. My feet moving one infront of the other, as if they knew their role in carrying me home and I had no involvment in the matter. My legs powered on, my eyes blurred untill I made it home,…. where I felt refreshed, I was a new,…. and nothing more was thought about the past few weeks. They are behind me and what matters is what is infront of me now. xxx

 

The Striper

So this is something that happened about a week and a half ago. Between making sure the person this is about was cool with it, racing at the weekend I think I put it off till I could spend some time thinking about it. Now the person this is about knows I’m writing this and was cool with me being as open as I wanted. But I suppose the disclaimer to this is that there is always two sides to every story and I suppose this is mine.

 

So a year or so ago I was sleeping with a stripper. Now it’s a bit unfair to call her a stripper in that she teaches pole dancing and also competes as a pole dancer. So to say she’s just a stripper who gets her bits out for cash would be a bit unfair. Although this being said I do refer to her as “the stripper” effectionatly in my real life as well. In alot of ways like most people I started writing a blog for veriouse reasons but I’ve found that getting things out there into the blogasphere has become quiet cathartic and well, a hell of alot cheaper than therapy right this is definatly one of those situations where getting it out there is for my own kathersis, but you’re welcome to come along for the ride.

 

Where to start with this one,…. I guess at the beggining,….

 

First time I met the stripper was many years ago. This was back when I was a guy. She was a friend of a friend and we’d popped into a strip club, something I’d never do normally. But it was my mates younger brothers 18th birthday and after years of giving him grief growing up we were taking him on a right of passage night out. Lots of booze and of course a lap dance. While at the club I was introduced to her, we had a little chat, my mate got his dance and that was that. We left and I never thought about her again really.

 

That obviously isn’t the end of the story though,….

 

So years later, I was in the processes of transitioning (and infact ended up going full time while seeing her) I was introduced to her again but this time by my boy friend at the time on a night out. Now at this time I hadn’t put two and two together as to who she was and that we’d already met. She was just my boy friends friend and was a good laugh on nights out. She had a long term boyfriend of 5 years at this point , they loved together and for all perposes they were “settled down”.  I met her a few more times, we had a laugh and that was that really. I ended up breaking up with the boy friend, although he was a really sweet guy it just wasn’t ment to be. We all went to the same clubs on our local gay scene so eventually I ended up bumpping into the stripper. We had a few drinks, a dance and a chat and one thing lead to another and we ended up kissing. At this point I hadn’t really statred dating girls. I was still sleeping with men and although it felt strange, it wasn’t something I wasn’t enjoying. After a bit of a drunken fumble where nothing really happened, we exchanged numbers , went back to the bar. She reintroduced me to her partner and some how (I can’t remember the full details here) he ended up with his head up my dress,…. stood at the bar,… lol.

 

I know that last bit sounded really bad, I mean she had a partner and all. But they were in this kind of not open relationship, but one where they could both enjoy the same person. Ultimatly that didn’t work out because he couldn’t deal with me having a penis still. Either way the stripper and me ended up talking / texting alot met up a few times for lunch etc. We got on like a house on fire. I was still working out what the fk I was doing with women and although she was a stripper she was very butch and domanant. At the time I was very girly, alot more than I am more and she definatly did the protective thing well. There were even instances when she was thretening to beat grown men up who had said things to me on nights out. I was introduced to all her work friends and I think it was kinda common knowlage that I was the girl she was seeing, even her partner knew about it,… well,… most of it. It’s safe to say, when I write my sexual bucket list, things like sleeping with two strippers in the toilets at a bar will not need to be on this list. We had some fun, crazy times.

 

Now what started as a bit of fun, like most things soon became more seriouse. We both started developing feeling for each other. Now for me this wasn’t a problem, I like this girl ALOT. Don’t get me wrong, a pole dancer, who can put one floot on the floor and one on the cieling, is muscly is all good fun. But my feelings were for her, the girl she was when she wasn’t twirling around half naked. Her zest for life, her care free atittitude, but underniether it all a sweet caring girl. The problem was though,…. she wasn’t single. Although her partner knew about me he didn’t think it was anything more than a bit of fun and was cool with that. Even to the point where he would ring up and we’d openly be laid on the couch having a cuddle watching some telly and we would tell him.

 

Now like most people, half my life is conducted through facebook. Love it or hate it, it can be a very handy tool. The stripper and me would talk for hours through facebook chat. sometimes about total rubbish and other times we’d end up talking about how our feelings had grown and what were we going to do? Her partner used the same computer as her and far from checking up on her, on a few occasions I’d say hi on facebook to her and he would say it was just him using the web. We’d talk as well and all was cool. One time though I said hi it was him and the conversation we had been having the night before above it was all about how things were getting really intense. Now I’m not sure what conversation insude between them both but instead of it ending with him kicking off at me, instead he invited me round for dinner,… don’t ask,… I don’t know lol.

 

In the end he was really cool about it and all though there were tears and hard conversations between them he ended up just saying to her to choose one way or the other was all. The problem was, she couldn’t. I’ll say this now, it’s a very strange situation to be in to have a girl come round at 4am when she finishes work, sleep with you, have a gass and a cuddle and then go home to her partner and everyone involved know this is happening. In the end it ended up to much for her and being unable to choose lead to her doing alot of drugs and drinking heavily. She was destroying her self and I couldn’t bare to watch it. I picked a fight with her one night. It was daft and I can’t even remember what it was about, but I was a total arsehole about it. I wanted to make her choice for her. Go and be happy with her partner of 5 years rather than destroy her self while we stood by and watched helplesly. It worked, we “broke up” and I walked away from her house that day and broke down. This was the one and only time I’ve ever cried in public. I had to catch not one, but two busses to get home which with makeup running down your face mixed with salty tear stains is far from a good luck. I was an emotional wreck for weeks. Even remembering this time had made me cry writing about it. Not because I’m still in love with her but because it was such a painful time in my life.

 

Now for about 6 months we hadn’t spoke and I was starting to move on. I’d been seeing a girl on and off (who turned out not to be single as well??) who’s some one for many reasons I can’t write about. I had remained friends with quiet a few of the strippers friends when we broke up and we’d chat from time to time. One night while drunk I let slip to one of them about how and why I’d awkastrated an argument with the stripper. Now call it a drunk laps in judgment, but I thought she might not tell her about it seen as the reasons why I had done it,… I was wrong. She told the stripper and this led to her getting back in touch with me. I guess she’d forgiven me for me being a pretend arsehole this time We didn’t go down the same path as before. It was to dangerouse. We became friends again. I mean, it was her friendship that had led to it being more. It wasn’t about the “more” for me.

 

The next year we’d meet up from time to time, coffee, lunch, nights in with cooked meals. Nothing more than friends. The problem was for me we hadn’t ended naturally. I mean in that we hadn’t fallen out, I didn’t hate her, far from it in fact. Through out this point, I kept trying to be a good friend, but deep down I knew I was harbouring seriouse feelings for her still. I guess I did consider her “the one that got away”. She had this idea she was going to go traveling round Oz for a year. In alot of ways i thought this would be great for me. It would give me the time I needed to sort my head out over the issue, get her out my life, ment in the nicest possible way. Now, good old alcahol had other ideas for me. She was leaving just after x-mas and of course, being x-mas I was on it! Some how her moving away came up one night while I was drunk, I for some reason thought it would be a good idea to tell her I was in love with her a few days before she left. God knows why I did this. Not because I wasn’t in love with her, I was,… that was the problem. I was in love with her, she was moving away and most importantly I knew that it wasn’t risipricated.

 

Now not to diverge to much here but I’d just like to add that I’m not one to say I love you unless I mean it. I’ve had people say it to me and even under that pressure I’ve still said I like them alot but I’m not in love with them yet. If I don’t feel it, I wont say it. I can litrally (just) count on one hand the number of people I’ve said it to. Two are close friends that I care alot about (but not in that way) and three girls. One was my first love at 15 (does it count?), one was one of my mums friends (the older woman ) Who I lived with and was even talking marrage with, well untill I came out the closet and the stripper. So for me to say I loved her isn’t a flippant comment like so many other people might use it.

 

Any ways, back on track. She moved away. The ex, me, a few friends and fammily saw her off at the station. I shed a few tears, avoided her ex and left. The ex and me can’t be in the same room to this day without one of us kicking off. Every time we bump into each other we avoid eye contact and walk in the oppersite direction. Once she had gone away the stripper messaged me and we talked about me being in love with her. I knew I shouldn’t have said it. I’m not sure what I was hoping to achieve with it. I mean I didn’t want her to stay, I knew she needed to travel the world while she still count and I couldn’t be selfish and ask her to stay. I knew she didn’t feel the same, but we kept in touch as friends between face book and skype.

 

Now I thought I had a year to deal with this, but in her travels there was a mix up at the Canadian border and she ended up getting deported back to the UK. A situation that we still laugh about to this day lol. She was back in the UK and back in my life after about 6 months. Her partner was now her ex. She was a free agent as such, but we were friends and I was dealing with my own issues about this. For a long time though she was like a habit I couldn’t quit. I’d feel like I was over her like I’d finally moved on, then we would meet up again and it would all come back with avangance. I wanted her causing through my viens, just a small hit,.. just to take the edge off. My friends used to dispair with me about her. They would warn me what would happen but when she beconed I came running. I don’t think she would see it like this. But for along time that’s how I felt. I was stuck, wanting something I could never have.

 

I started dating my most recent ex last year and the stripper came out eventually. I was honest with her about the stripper, what had happened and how I’d felt. Given I couldn’t promise that I was over her we kind of agreed that I wouldn’t see her. this was a mutal thing as it really wouldn’t have been fair to her if all of a sudden I started feeling something for her again. Long story short our relationship ended because she ended up controlling who I saw and what I did on a much greater scale. Got to love jelouse over protective dykes don’t you :/

 

Now single again, I ended up meeting up with the stripper a few times, as friends. There was still something there, hidden deep, like the dulling embers of a camp fire come morning. Could I deal with this,……?

 

We hadn’t really seen each other for a few months, I had my life , she had hers. A few weeks ago she cropped up in my mind. Nothing like that. Just I wondered how she was doing. I thought about dropping her a text and I’d pondered this for a few days. Then it happened,…. she text me.

 

It turned out she’d been thinking about me as well. We had a chat and arranged meeting up in town, doing some shopping and she would cook for me and show me her new place now she was all moved in etc. I was sure i could do this. I felt ready. I felt over her and ready to just be friends. All my friends were telling me this was a bad idea but I was optimistic about it.  I’d kicked this habit along time ago and no matter how good it felt to have that little hit, ultimatly I knew that it was bad for me.

 

We met up in town had a chat and ended up dress shopping for her. Now being a stripper she’s very erm,… open about her body. So to say I knew I’d end up seeing her naked at some point before the day is over isn’t in any way her trying to seduce me or to say anything was happening. This was just the way it was. I think i’d been chatting to her while dress shopping all of about 20 mins before there she is in nothing more than her knickers showing me her body in the changing rooms in between trying dresses on and having a laugh. I just had to laugh about it. We ended back at hers, she cooked to feed the 5000 not just the two of us. I knew what was coming next was the big hurdle. Her getting ready for work. Now going from ordinary mortal girl to super human stripper takes alot of work and preperation. Alot of makeup, fake tan, hair exstention, skimpy outfits and yes, although she looks pretty out of makeup. All made up to the nines she looks stunning, seductive even. I mean that is the look right? So I’m sat there while she’s walking round totaly stark naked. Putting her legs up on the bed in front of me applying fake tan and even at one point asking me if her,…. erm,… lady bits,…. looked different to before. They did but that’s another matter The whole time all I could do was laugh and shake my head. How oftern do you find your self sat in front of a stripper you were in lvoe with in her house, her totally naked asking your oppinion of her bits? It doesn’t happen to me very often if I’m honest.

 

Now I came away from all this and one thing was abundantly clear to me,…. I felt nothing. I mean sure she’s a friend and sure I think I will always have sine feelins for her. I guess it’s the difference between loving some one and being in love with them still. I remember why I felt the way I did about her, but those feelings just arn’t there any more. I don’t think I’d be capable of loving her even if I wanted to. It’s like there was only so much love I could give her and it has been used up. It’s a strange situation getting closure with the girl that got away, but more so because we still see each other and talk. I mean while writing this, she was at the top of my news feed on facebook and I even ended up texting her about her status etc. But in no other way though than I would with a friend. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can finally move on properly and be honest and true to any one I get in a relationship with.

 

To the stripper. I know there is a chance you might see this. I hope nothing I’ve said in this upsets you in any way and I hope it shows you my thought process and struggles I’ve had over the last few years about you xxx

Race report Apollo Tri

So Sunday I did my first triathlon. 400m swim, 24km bike and 5km run and it was good!!

 

The getting up in the morning was pretty hard at 4am. Although I’ve been talking to a girl till the early hours for the last few weeks which definatly hasn’t helpped. On the night before she kicked me off to bed at least. but after a few weeks of it, neither of us was asleep so ended up gassing again lol. I was pretty tiered come 4am and an entire mug of ecspresso definatly perked me up though

 

We’d been having amazing weather up in Hull and in the UK, temp in the 20′s ºc. Typically come race day it was 1ºc and we started by scraping ice off the car. We got there really early , I set up transition and after a race brief at half seven I then had to wait for 0944 for my wave. It was strange, I was rocking trackies with my hair tied back and then later a tri suit and I got called “love” and automatically people were pointing me towards the girls toilets etc. I always think I look massivly butch / blokeish like this, but I guess not?

Me talking to my mummy

As the time got closer I’ll be honest, not matter how much preperation I’d done I was beggining to get nervouse,…. hand I trined enough,…. could I do this,… I’m sure I can do this,… yes! given my swimming back ground I ended up going off with all the decent athletes (all of which won veriouse catagories or came second etc) and then there was me,…. was I really in the right catagory???

So my swim came, I pushed off and my right goggle filled with water,…. a-Fking-mazing!! I did two lengths like this and as I breathed on my right (the side that filled) I kept judging it wrong and breathing in water. After two abismal legnths I moved to breathing just on my left. This slowed me down a bit, but hey, I was breathing and I’m pretty sure that helps right?

After the swim I had a 200m run to transition. Now this I was happy with, 40 seconds from crossing the mat, getting to my bike, glasses and helmet on and across the line again, good times I ran, hopped on the bike (shoes already attached) and I was away. It was pretty cold still and being wet my suit got cold around my chest pretty dam quick. I’d traind for this on perpose, so lots of short slow breaths later I wasn’t hyper ventalating. I was off. The first 3-4 km all was going swimmingly, a reasonable time and I was kicking out speeds of 35km/h. then I turned at a t-junction to find a car straddeling my lane and coming straight towards me. Now it’s been a while since I’d done physics, but I’m pretty sure that both our speeds and his size would end badly for me. So like any sensible person. I got the fk out of dodge and ended up on the floor rather than under his car. I checked my self over for broken bones, nope all’s good I can stand. I checked the bike over, yep all working still. One final check of my self revealed a nice cut on the palm of my hand, a few patches of road rash, scratches on my legs and a slightly bruised pride. At this point the remiander of my wave passed by. Least they asked if I was ok though

My hand was gushing a bit, but I thought it’s not bad enough to stop me and I’m sure the wind while I ride will help it clot,…. well apart from a 4-5km up hill section where I was out my seat hanging out my arse, ragging my hands on my drop bars.

Once over the hill though it was a lovely down hill with only a small up hill at the end. My hand was healing nicely in th wind, thank god. I couldn’t imagine getting a “DNF” on my first race :/ I did find my self slowing down because of the crash on a down hill section,… doing 75km/h down hill in skin tight lycra I couldn’t help but think if I came off now it would be a little bit more seriouse :S. The rest of the bike I tried to make up the time a bit but to be honest it took me 56mins and I was far from happy with that time. I do have to say, I seem to have the getting on the bike, the dismount and transition down at least, this time I did a 44 second transition into the run.

The run was a two lap “flat” course minus a small hill at the far end of the loop. It was 5km and burning legs aside I plodded on through it to cross the finish line. It’s safe to say I was pretty shattered, my time was slow because of a mixture of mishaps and nerves and you know what. I loved it. I loved every minuit of the race. From the cold, the wet, the crash. The burning feeling in my legs and lungs. It was like heaven,… call me a sado masachist,…. no really do

Needless to say with a time of 1:32:11 I didn’t win anything. but it was my first race, who would I be kidding if I thought I could have come first and what would there be to aim for if it was all easy right? But I took alot from the race. How things felt, how things works. There are alot of things to work on and rather than being detered I’m already looking at my next race in the end of june.I’m officially a complete triathalon convert

 

And in true calabratory style the girls dragged me out for a “few” drinks on the night that turned into me been awake 23 hours, getting home at 3am just a little,…. ok quiet tipsy and very tiered :S

 

My aero bars turned up today as well so that’s gona be some fun to train with so wish me luck xxx

T minus 1 week

So it’s one week to the day to my race. Today I got all the prerace brief info so it’s official,… I’m racing and this is happening.

 

I’ve started my pre race phase and it’s a tad boring to say the least. My plan for this week is a casual swim to stretch my arms out and a casual run to stretch my legs out on tuesday. This will leave my body to rest for a week leading up to the race so that (in theory) I’m recovered and at my best on race day. Boring is not the word though :/ I’ve been getting up at 4 every day raring to go and instead, getting up and doing uni work. The mental strength needed this week I think is worse than when I am training because at least then I feel like I’m doing something, where as at the moment I feel like I’m getting up for no reason and then it’s the slippery slope,…. what’s one more hour in bed God I hate taper

 

Between blasting out a uni assignment this week on the fundermentals of search in artifical intelligence I think there will be a few blog posts to come. There are a few things that I’ve wanted to write about and / or have happened in the last few weeks that I want to blog about,… so you have been warned

 

So for now I’m going to get back to do some research for this paper and consider some sort of carbo loading over this week while I’m at it xxx

Race day

So this is a bit late as I was being a good daughter and doing mothers day etc. But I’m racing in two weeks (april 1st)

 

Now before you start thinking it it’s not a full ironman it’s only a sprint distance. It’s one of three races in a grand prix and winning all three could land me £3000, which would be nice

 

Now the kicker is that I’m racing in the mens catagory lolol. I had a really good chat with some one from the BTF / triathalon England and s/he was really cool about the whole thing (androgenouse names in e-mail make things hard) Although the guidelines were very specific that I had to be post surgery they were tryingto find a way for me to compete in the female catagory although I’m still waiting on an answer for that. But either wayI’m racing and I’m racing to  beat the boys of course lol.

 

I’m pretty confident that even if I don’t win I should do pretty well. I’ve practiced and practiced and prcticed. My times are good, I know my kit and nutrition. The only thing that’s stopping me is injury I recon. I’ve noticed that with all triatheltes that we permanantly injured in some way. My knee is pretty much better now and just as it’s got better I’ve managed to bruise something in my foot and this monring I’ve woken up with a trapped nerve in my neck,…… great. It’s nothing I can’t train through as long as I’m aware of them. But it’s definatly something I’ve noticed, we all seem to push our bodies to the utter limit and suprisingly stuff breaks :S

 

Any ways, the heat pack on my necks going cold and I should prob get my arse to the pool because speed training isn’t going to do it’s self unfortnatly ^^ xxx

Second Class citizen

Now, I know how you’d all think this is going to be a rant about how as trans people we don’t have the same rights nore are we treat the same socialy, but this really isn’t that.

 

I cycle enough now that I’d class my self as a cycelist. I mean an all the kit, rules of the road cycelist, not just some one who’s got on a bike and doing thier own thing. Now my highway code is pretty good and I passed the driving theory test so I’de like to think I’m not an idiot. That and I’m quiet fond of not being run over if I’m honest. That been said though drivers really don’t give a fk about cycelists at all. It’s like were invisable or something.

 

This all stemmed from my last long ride really. On a few occasions I was cut off by cars, busses and lorries deciding to over take me and then turn left. One lorry even decided to just occupie the same space I was in cousing my to have to break suddenly and pray!! The worste for me though given the total disreguard for me was a woman at a cross roads. She part of the on coming traffic was turning right across my lane and me going straight was powering through the lights with right of way about to start a hill climb when she decided to just pull out infront of me as if I wasn’t even there. There was no harm done due to my reactions becoming quicker when I’m round cars but a few seconds either way and I’d have found my self mounting her car bonnet while clipped in to my pedals so bike and all lol.

 

I’ve read a few blogs and watched youtube videos of cars / buses etc pretty much running cycelists off the road and although it had been years since I’d been on a bike I didn’t remember it being like that when I was a kid??? It’s even got to the stage that in the uk a bus driver has been sentenced to prison recently for using his bus as a deadly weapon

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-17069235

 

Now I don’t agree with inequality genrally, but when were part of the same race, creed and gender etc how can people in a two ton metal box treat others with so little respect especially as with one clip and it’s all over for us and if their unlucky they might scratch their paint work.

 

Something I’ve been following is the ghost bike movment that’s been placing white bikes at sites where cycelists have been hit and died. I think it’s a really good idea. But I’ll be honest, it wouldn’t be long before the streets are littered with them at this rate :S

http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/public/cyclesafety/article3305908.ece

 

Any ways, my little rant over with I’ve got an 80 mile ride to get on with xxx

Transexuals in sport

So I guess this is a  blog post I’ve been putting off really. I mean it’s such a contentious, serious issue and given it’s the main focus of my blog I guess I’ve been wanting to think a lot about the issue and try to cover all the bases as it were.

 

When I first started looking at transitioning I knew I would have to pretty much give up swimming for many reasons. Initially at the early stages using “gender appropriate” changing rooms and costumes was an issue. Do I turn up “in roll” and then change into a male costume? Or do I wear a womans with lumps and bumps in all the wrong places? The local baths I’d been at for some years were really cool about the whole thing luckily and after a chat about how I wasn’t going to use the disabled changing rooms we all came to a middle ground of me using the women’s changing rooms,…. just showering in my costume. I mean we wouldn’t want to give any old ladies a shock lol.

 

In the end I stopped swimming for a multitude of reasons. Partly because I’d got it into my head that I had to be the grimiest of girls and I wasn’t going to achieve this with having muscles. This now being something I’m learning to live with. I also became very disillusioned with the sport given how long I would be away from competitions. As soon as I outted my self as trans I was no longer able to race as a man, I mean I’d just told them that I wasn’t a man after all. Now here’s the big kick in the nuts (excuse the pun) To compete as a woman has nothing to do with your legal gender in any way shape or form. I have a driving licence and all sorts of documents that say I’m a woman but they mean nothing to governing bodies both nationally and internationally for swimming, running, triathlon, including the Olympic committee. All these bodies have 2 criteria. Firstly that I have had two years on gender appropriate hormones and secondly that I have undergone sexual reassignment surgery.

 

Now the first criteria I can fully understand. I would have a man’s body and be racing against women. In most cases this would offer a VERY unfair advantage given muscle strength, size, power etc and without it being in place people could very easily abuse the situation and all of a sudden you’ve got half a dozen men racing in women’s races. To give you an idea men have testosterone (T) levels of 15-17 and estrogen (E) levels <80 where as in women T is 5-7 and E is 80 – 1000 depending on lots of things. Mine are E 610 and T 0.5. I literally can’t sprint to save my life, I have no explosive power :S. Now my disillusion with the time out from sport comes partly from this though. Ok so you come out and you start on the path to becoming more like the person you are on the inside. It will be a year to a year and a half before you even have hormones mentioned. THEN you have two years to wait.

 

Now the second criteria I hate,… no ,… I loath in that it’s such an archaic approach to gender etc. As stated above you can see I have less testosterone than your average women making it harder for me to compete for many reasons including strength and also things like recovery times and over all energy levels. This makes the entire process an up hill battle in its self and clearly my sex organs aren’t working any more meaning as long as I could prove this surly that’s what matters?

 

This idea that having a penis makes me unelligable to compete is something that is mirrored through out my life. this idea that having a penis makers me a man and thus the lack of it a woman. This can be seen all over but mostly in people’s perceptions of me as a person. the “you’ll be a man untill you get rid”. My usual response is, if you had a car crash and it fell off, would you be a woman or an unhappy man? The having or the lack of is irrelevant in reality for both who I am and also how well I can compete. But hey I don’t make the rules I just have to follow them :/

 

The other down side of having surgery first is that even if everything goes well I’m looking at a minimum of 3 months recovery time doing literally nothing and then having to build back up very slowly. not to mention issues with chlorine water and sitting on bike seats,… can any one say OWWW?

 

surprisingly in all this though other athletes that I would be competing against and interested race teams don’t seem to care about what’s going on between my legs even if I would beat them in practice and / or on race day. The only people who seem to care are the governing bodies except for the gay games who’s gender identity policy is a lot more relaxed and understanding (guess where I will be going in 2014. Even race organisers have said they wouldn’t have a problem with me racing.

 

The only thing that bothers me really is the extreme double standards for trans men. there is a triathlete in the states who is a trans man and is able to race along side men even though he hasn’t had surgery,…. the reason for this,…. they don’t belive he has a chance of winning against other men. Just because we as trans women could win. Does that mean we should be subjected to the double standard?

 

So I put it to you, the reader as an open debate having been given “the facts”. If you were to swim/bike/run a race and it turned out the winner wasn’t even born the gender they were racing would you feel they deserved it? or more so, would it be right?

Answers on a post card xxx

Swim bike run crash

So my knee is on the mend. I’ve been doing some decent running sessions. Only short distances but quality sessions rather than quantity. Today I thought I’d push it a little bit and see how it holds up.

I recently baught a new bike. Nothing special, a Barrossa monsa that cost me £204. It’s a nice little racing road bike for training on once I make a few modifications to the tune of aero bars, drop handel bars and a 78º conversion seat post I’ll be well on the way

Although I have to say, buying off the peg bikes usuall, or at least in my mind come built. Mine on the other hands looked like this

After a day of playing around with it and a few scrapes it looked more like this

So now I have a bike all the kit a kit junkie could need and a knee that is working,…. swim bike run brike set any body?

I got out at 5am as usual today and I’de already got it in my head this was the plan for the morning. Nothing to crueling or hard paced. Nice and steady and just get the feeling of swim to bike, bike to run. I ended up with a mile swim, 10 mile bike and 3 mile run. Was well under two hours, but not 100% sure on time as I was messing about at the pool and gassing with people as you do. It was definatly around the hour and a half mark though and boy did I feel like it.

A funny thing happened to me though on my bike ride. Now I’d heared horror stories about people clipping in for the first time, riding and not being able to get out of them and crashing. I do some spin classes and also had a play at home making sure I knew my way in and out of them rather than figuring it out at a set of traffic lights.

So there I am 6 miles in sweating, working hard and I get to a set of lights. I move down the line past the cars and up to the front. I go to unclip,…. NOTHING!! I panic, I tug, I wobble and then thats it I’m laid on my side in the gutter infront of everyone.  Now this is a reasonably busy “T” junction, with lots of cars about so it’s safe to say I feel like a bit of a tool. But me being me, I just laid there for a few moments laughing out loud, shook my head and after fighting with my feet, got up and waited for the lights to change, then went onto finish my session. I thought I’d been unscaved but, I have a slight scuff on my left hip. Although the pic doesn’t do my first war wound justice if you ask me

Any ways, a day of uni work for me. Between training and my last year I don’t seem to stop xxx

Valantines delight?

So it’s that time of year again,… the mad hysteria,… nope not pancake day, valantines.

 

I have a few things I wanted to blog about but something happened tome today and given it’s valiantines it’s perfect for a post today.I’m not exactly sure on how to give a “back story” to all this but here goes.

 

I met this girl last year,… misses magic hands. I’m not going to lie, to give her a sudername like that she really does. Any ways, we kinda of got into a sex only kinda thing. he lived in the next city across and would come through every few weeks and we’d pretty much ,… well you can guess what we did Any ways this just sex no feelings thing lasted all of about a week as it does. You know when you just click with some one and well,… they make you smile and laugh.Luxkly it wasn’t one sided and she said she felt the same. But some where between not putting labels on it and playing it cool we both end up dating other people :/

Any ways, months past of us being, well aquantences. The occasional text and facebook message but that was kind of it untill we were both single just before christmas. Now I broke up with my ex and it kinda puts me in the good possition where as it was the other way round with misses magic hands and her head fk insude. We tried to meet up a few times and she kept canceling on me last minuit. This infuriated me no end and if I’m honest I did the “Eight she can fk off”, “Never again” statments. I told her where she could go and I moved on. I’d given her enough chances and that was that.

So I’m avoiding people and the soppyness that is today with some really needed srping cleaning. Nothing like some cleaning and scrubbing to take your mind off things. Although if I could have gone for a run I would have as well :/ And in between texting a few friends today I get a text off misses magic hands “,…Am not liking this whole not talking think yano, it sucks n I miss you”. My initial thought is well that’s your fault isn’t it. So me sticking to my guns tell her what for and that she only has her self to blame for this,… I’m doing well. Some where along the lines I end up smiling and at one point I spat out my toothpaste laughing. Shit, this girl who’s a self confessed fk up with no intentioned of changing had got back under my skin.

How did thiss happen? In one sentence I’m calling her an arsehole and in the next I might as well be saying I forgive her. What is it about this women, these cocky, butch, players that draw you in every time. I’m not sure if it’s the fact you can see the soft side, you can change them, they will be different with you. No really I don’t know!! What is this power these women have over me and why can’t I help my self round them. I mean sure the sex is FABULOUSE but is it was just that I’d be having a very intimate relationship with my vibrator and not writing a blog post like this.

I guess I’ll just have to see if I’m as big a mug as I feel right now and see if she stands me up again,… this is the last time!!!…. I hope xxx

Baby steps

This post is a few days late, but I wanted to make sure my leg felt ok before posting rather than say it is and then two days later say I’m back to square one.

On friday I finally ran after 6 weeks off. Well, I say run what I mean is jog,…. no I’m not sure I can even call it that. The treadmill was going so slowly I could have proberly walked and the distance,…. *cought* ,…. I did 500 meters. The good news is though that it wasn’t in pain during or afterward. I’m not fixed though, was I write this I have a heat pack on my knee, but I’m definatly on the ment.

 

This being injured buissness is totally rubish though. I just want to don my running kit and go run 15 miles, with music blaring, blood sweat and tears,… but I can’t. I really would be doing my self a diservice and would be one step forward two steps back if I did. The upside though is I’m being forced to focus on my swimming and core work more so it’s not all bad. If I couldn’t swim I think I would go mad though. That been said I’m starting my off weeks as well. Three weeks of working my body hard has felt really good , but a week of working at a lesser pace / frequency is definatly needed so I don’t burn my self out, because that’s when the crazy really would come out.

 

Any ways, short post as I have millions of things to sort out before my second opinion tomorrow,… big day :S xxx