miércoles, 27 de agosto de 2014

"Nosotros" y "ellos"... Nosotros + ellos = Puerto Rico




En los recientes días las redes sociales se han inundado de vídeos y fotos de dos cosas que han enfurecido a lo que algunos llamarían la mayoría de nuestro país.  Podría argumentarse si realmente es la mayoría o simplemente aquellos que parecen “gritar“ más alto. Tal vez porque sus voces tienen acceso a foros que otros no tienen, tal vez porque sus voces ya no quieren hablar y comentar calmadamente lo que les frustra y enfurece. Tal vez porque realmente su coraje e indignación por tanto tiempo ha causado un cansancio en el que finalmente ya los filtros y tapujos quedan a un lado. 

Con mucha tristeza veo un vídeo de cómo en una sala de emergencias, un lugar que debe ser sagrado, de absoluta seriedad y respeto debido a que se supone que lo que se maneje en la misma sean situaciones que representen un potencial riesgo a la vida del paciente, se da una situación triste,  que aunque muchos se alegran de ella, yo particularmente siento verguenza y gran tristeza al verla.  Y lo más confuso es que de alguna extraña manera, siento exactamente esos mismos dos sentimientos por las dos partes involucradas en esa escena.  Imagino que en este punto ya saben al incidente del que me refiero. Una doctora gritando adjetivos que más bien podrían calificarse de insultos a una persona que no se puede apreciar en el vídeo pero cuya voz se escucha de fondo en el mismo contestando en voz alta y en tono retante a la doctora.  De un lado, la doctora, con una educación universitaria que sólo algunos poseen, actuando, bajo coraje, tal vez como una persona sin educación alguna y con muchos prejuicios y del otro, la paciente, respondiendo con un comentario que refleja, por un lado el cansancio de ser mal tratada como paciente, y por otro, el hecho de que parece ignorar las responsabilidades de todo paciente y parece ignorar por completo que además de derechos, también se tienen responsabilidades y reglas a seguir en nuestro rol de pacientes.  Pero como pasar juicio sobre las acciones representadas en ese vídeo no es la idea de este escrito, y como de todos modos no se tiene la historia completa porque sólo se presenta una parte de la discusión, y particularmente enfocándola en una sola de las partes, y aunque estas escenas y actitudes humillantes y clasistas nunca deberían darse, la realidad es que cualquier pesona bajo ciertas circunstancias, puede perder la tabla y decir cosas terribles.  Si no lo cree posible, piense en las veces que usted puede le haya dicho algo hiriente, humillante o insultante a un ser querido bajo coraje para 5 minutos después sentir el peso del veneno que acaba de salir de su boca. Claro está, que de igual manera, lo correcto cuando ocurren estas cosas es disculparse... pero bueno, cada loco con su tema.

Y días después veo como sigue el vídeo reproduciéndose cada vez con más intensidad y con más comentarios que parecen estar a favor y tomando el lado de una de las dos personas involucradas. Mi pensar es que en general, los comentarios y el lado del bando en que sus contactos van a estar dependerá en gran medida del bando al que usted pertenece.  Si, bandos, mi gente. Porque creo que al fin llegué a una conclusión que al menos ayuda a mi mente a hacer algún sentido de esta situación, y de cómo la famosa noticia de que vivienda de lujo estará disponible a un costo ridículamente bajo para personas de escasos recursos económicos han causado tanto revuelo.  Y es que, nuestro país está dividido en dos.  La clase trabajadora y la clase no trabajadora.  Los que un bando llaman riquillos y los que el otro llama mantenidos y vividores.

Me refiero a la clase trabajadora y la no trabajadora porque me rehúso a utilizar la palabra pobreza de manera tan ligera. Porque la realidad de mi país es que aún gran parte de la clase trabajadora de mi isla, de la clase que sale todos los días a ganarse el pan sintiendo la honra de que su trabajo compone y construye algo en el país en que vive, también es POBRE.  Pobre no es sólo aquel que vive, por elección o por circunstancias, de ayudas gubernamentales. Pobre también es aquel que trabaja como burro de carga y con lo básico para sobrevivir, sin lujo alguno, a duras penas puede poner comida en la mesa para sus hijos, un techo sobre sus hombros y ruega todas las noches por no tener una emergencia médica, enfermedad o accidente porque simplemente sabe que no tiene ni donde caerse muerto.  Si, porque si usted mi amig@ ha tenido la bendición de no tener que enterrar a un ser querido aún, posiblemente usted ignore que se requieren al menos $3,000 - $5,000 dólares para enterrar a alguien. Entonces, tan pobre es el que trabaja y vive con lo mínimo sin que le sobre nada al final del mes como el que vive de asistencia gubernamental.  Algunos debatirían y alegarían que estos últimos están en peores condiciones. Y sin ánimos de entrar en el debate, entiendo el reclamo. Siendo hija de dos empleados públicos en puestos básicos y habiendo crecido con momentos en donde no faltaba nada y momentos en que aunque no faltaba comida sobre la mesa no había para ningún antojo, gusto o diversión, realmente lo entiendo.  Habiendo crecido en veranos en que no había para comprar una piscina para poner en el patio de nuestra casa aún con ambos padres trabajando, y ver como en los residenciales abundaban, entiendo el reclamo.  No me molestaba que otros niños pudiesen disfrutar de eso, pero honestamente, era confuso en mi mente de niña, ver cómo gente que se supone era más pobre que nosostros, disfrutaba de lujos que nosotros no podíamos disfrutar.  Ahora de adulta, aún no me hace mucho sentido.

Sin embargo, aunque muchos podemos entender que en nuestra clase trabajadora también hay pobreza, nuestro sistema, nuestro gobierno, no lo entiende. No este, sino a través de nuestra historia.  Ante los ojos de nuestro gobierno sólo es considerado pobre aquel que básicamente no tiene ingresos y en ese cálculo nuestro sistema falla terriblemente en reconocer el costo de vivir tan siquiera de la forma más básica.  Entonces, por esta razón, porque nuestro sistema sólo reconoce a aquel sin ingresos o prácticamente sin ingresos como pobre, es sólo a ellos a quienes se otorga total o parcialmente y en muchos casos de manera gratuita,  a cambio de nada, las ayudas de vivienda, salud, subsidios de teléfono y hasta internet e incluso lo que ningún otro ciudadano de nuestro país recibe y hasta a los enfermos e incapacitados muy injustamente les cuesta y es imposible conseguir en muchas ocasiones. Una tarifa mensual ajustada con un tope fijo que permite, entre otras cosas, el uso y abuso indiscriminado de los servicios de agua y luz. El tener unidades de aire acondicionado y las cosas prendidas y conectadas todo el tiempo que deseen.  Eso es una comodidad y un lujo que sólo los sumamente adinerados, porque lo pueden costear de su bolsillo tal vez sin que les duela, y en el otro extremo, aquellos con dichas ayudas, que son los únicos que nuestro sistema considera pobres pueden disfrutar de manera desmedida de esas comodidades en nuestra isla.  Unos porque se las ganan, los otros porque simplemente les son regaladas. Y como bien dice un conocido refrán en nuestro país, lo que nada nos cuesta, hagámoslo fiesta. En el medio, los que dejan el pellejo trabajando, quedan en los días de calor, amontonándose toda la familia en un solo cuarto para prender un solo aire y sólo cuando el calor es extremo.  Se hace malabares para lavar la ropa y secarla al sol, el calentador se prende solo 15 minutos antes de que todo el mundo se bañe y se cambian todas las bombillas de la casa a las que consumen menos energía.  En muchas ocasiones ni cable se tiene por aquello de ahorrarse hasta más de $1,200 al año.  Y se vive estirando el peso, buscando los especiales para hacer compra y comprando a veces no lo que gusta, sino lo que se puede.  Mirando este panorama, no es difícil entender por qué la clase trabajadora se molesta. Créanme que creo firmemente que todo país debe siempre buscar un sistema donde haya justicia social para todos sus ciudadanos, pero escoger con pinzas, superficialmente y sin mirar a fondo quién es pobre y quién merece esas ayudas mientras otros viven en igual o peores condiciones, no es justicia social.  Otorgar recursos y ayudas a una parte de la población sin requerir ningún compromiso o beneficio a cambio para el país y negar esas mismas ayudas a quienes lo necesitan de igual manera y de por sí contribuyen con su sudor y esfuerzo día a día al crecimiento de nuestro país, en mi humilde y tal vez ignorante opinión, no es justicia social.  Ver cómo unos ni siquiera se atreven a tener hijos o tal vez se limitan a tener uno a sabiendas de que a duras penas pueden sobrevivir ellos, mientras vemos cómo otros se reproducen sin control ni preocupación alguna porque viven bajo la certeza y tranquilidad de que el gobierno cubrirá las necesidades básicas de la cantidad de hijos que deseen tener, ante mis ojos, no es justicia social. 

Del otro lado de la moneda,  como mencionaba antes, estas ayudas las reciben los que no poseen ingresos, o al menos los suficientes dentro de los parámetros establecidos por el gobierno.  En este grupo están los que escogen vivir así y los que circunstancias ajenas a su voluntad los han llevado hasta ahí.  Y sí, jamás debemos olvidar que ta vez la rueda nos tenga en el lado de arriba o tal vez en el medio ahora mismo, pero un accidente, enfermedad crónica o mortal o simplemente, y más que nunca en esta economía, un despido nos puede llevar a la parte de abajo de la rueda. A la parte donde sin remedio, y viéndonos obligados a dejar de un lado nuestro orgullo y tratar de ignorar posibles sentimientos de humillación, tengamos que unirnos a las filas interminables de aquellos que por una circunstancia u otra, temporera o eternamente dependen de ayudas guberamentales para sobrevivir.  Y sí, se que no es cómodo pensar en esto. Y no es cómodo porque bien adentro este pensamiento nos aterra. Y una de las razones por las que nos aterra es porque sabemos que entonces seremos considerados parte de “ellos“. Porque generalizar es la norma y no se hacen distinciones y seremos considerados, y lo peor, TRATADOS como la clase que tanto llamamos “vividora“.  Y tal como vimos en el vídeo de la doctora,  considerados menos ciudadanos, con menos valor, educación y derechos. Y se nos estrujará en la cara que debemos estar agradecidos porque a fin de cuentas estamos ahí recibiendo un servicio y si pagar... GRATIS! Ah, pero nadie pensará en los años en que servimos a nuestro país con nuestro esfuerzo y trabajo y las madrugadas para ir a coger tapón con el fin de ganarnos las habichuelas y componer algo en nuestro país.  Los momentos preciosos que hemos perdido con nuestra familia.Y miren si tendemos a agrupar a todos bajo un mismo techo que si estamos en el supermercado y vemos a una persona joven, que parece saludable pagar con la Tarjeta de Familia, nos empieza a hervir la sangre al mirar su carrito de compra con artículos que tal vez nosotros no compramos en ese momento porque no podemos costearlos. Sin ni siquiera tomar en cuenta que a lo mejor esa persona está haciéndole la compra a un familiar enfermo, o que es una madre que tiene un niño con discapacidades severas que requiere su atención las 24 horas del día, o que tal vez esa joven o ese joven están haciéndole la compra a sus abuelos, quienes después de trabajar y servirle al país toda una vida, entre el seguro social, la pensión de su antiguo trabajo y posiblemente sumando los estragos de la viudez y perder la mitad de los ingresos del hogar, a duras penas tienen para pagar comida y sus medicinas. Y sí, se que estos casos no son los que tienden a enfurecer.  Pero los pongo de ejemplo para que podamos ver, tal vez con un poco más de humanidad la realidad de que el que vive de ayudas del gobierno, por la razón que sea, tiene que crear una piel dura, y está sujeto a las miradas denigrantes, a los insultos, a ser considerado y en ocasiones tratados menos porque “no paga ni aporta nada“.  Y lo resolvemos con un que se vayan a trabajar“.  Y seguro, esto haría sentido si para empezar hubiese tantas plazas de trabajo, y para seguir, si en los trabajos más comunes y dónde más se puede acomodar gente, al éstos irse a trabajar no entrasen posiblemente a vivir en una peor situación y quedarse en la pobreza, pero en esta ocasión con más compromisos, menos beneficios y uniéndose a la clase pobre que a nadie le importa. Los que trabajan y a duras penas pueden sobrevivir.

Nuestro sistema promueve y perpetúa el que la gente dependa del mismo sistema. No promueve el salir de ahí.  Al no distribuir las ayudas de manera equitativa y justa, no motiva o incentiva a salir del sistema de ayudas.  Qué diferente sería si aquellos que trabajan pero aún así no logran ver el fruto de su sacrificio estuvieran tal vez un poco mejor con ciertas ayudas gubernamentales, aunque fuesen parciales.  Que diferente sería para evitar estos juicios y diferencias abismales si tal vez, para recibir estas ayudas gubernamentales, fuese requisito trabajar o rendir servicio comunitario al menos 20 horas semanales. Bastante falta que hace mano de obra para pintar escuelas, cuidar personas de edad avanzada o enfermos, cuidar niños mientras sus madres estudian o trabajan, que bastante prohibitivo que es el enviar los niños a un centro de cuido y en ocasiones acaba resultando en sacar a las madres del mundo laboral. No porque lo deseen, sino porque no pueden con el empuje económico.  También bastante falta que nos hace limpiar y mantener edificios gubernamentales, las calles y limpiar, pintar y devolverle la vida a parques públicos y canchas para que en vez de representar un peligro para nuestros niños, cumplan la función para la que originalmente fueron diseñados. Que diferente sería si para recibir esas ayudas fuese requisito cumplir con esas horas o que esa misma cantidad de horas se honre y se les cuente si la persona está estudiando, preparándose y esforzándose para echar pa’lante. Que diferente sería si estas ayudas fuesen, en vez de una regalía, una remuneración por el trabajo requerido para cualificar y recibir las mismas.  Claro está, hay personas y casos en que sencilla y humanamente hay que hacer excepciones como en las personas de edad avanzada que ya sirvieron al país, como personas enfermas o aquellos cuyo trabajo es cuidar de un familliar que requiere asistencia todo el tiempo.  Sin embargo, los jóvenes y los saludables y sin ninguna razón que les impida poder servir al país a cambio de estas ayudas, no deben ser remunerados a cambio de nada.  No dársele todo a cambio de nada mientras que otros que se esfuerzan duramente carecen de ayuda alguna aún cuando la necesitan.  Qué diferente sería si se promoviese la autogestión, y en vez de poner trabas, tropiezos y encarecer el poder abrir un negocito se facilitara el proceso, se incentivara ese esfuerzo y se pudiese lograr con prácticamente nada, en vez de tener que invertir en una máquina de Ivu Loto prácticmente hasta para que la señora de la esquina cosa par de uniformes, ruedos y haga dos o tres trajesitos al mes en vez de, frustrada por tanto gasto versus lo que puede realmente ganar, resignarse a unirse a las filas de asistencia gubernamental.  Qué diferente sería si nuestro sistema proveyera y facilitara para que todos buscáramos una vida mejor, en vez de resignarnos a caer en los vicios del mismo.

Y reconozco que tal vez escribo esto bajo total ignorancia de algúna razón válida por la que esto no pueda o deba ser así.  El trabajar y componer en nuestro país a cambio de ser ayudado no nos hace menos.  Al contrario,  equilibra el juego y nos hace a todos no sólo partícipes y merecedores de la ayuda que necesitemos, sino también responsables de la situación en que vivimos y el mantenimiento de las cosas que disfrutamos.  Esto me parece no sólo justo, sino también necesario.  Verán, Puerto Rico necesita manos.  Necesita de nuestras manos para levantar el país que se nos cae encima. Manos para movernos hacia donde queremos como país.  Manos, muchas manos, haciendo de todo tipo de trabajos. Manos para todos poder remar en una misma dirección, porque si el bote está dividido en dos bandos, y los de un solo lado reman y los otros no, seguiremos dando vueltas en el mismo sitio, y tal vez hundiéndonos un poco más. Tal vez más gente tratando de abandonar el barco, no porque quieran, sino porque llega un punto en que se trata de sobrevivencia, y los que quedan, se sentirán cada vez más agotados y desmoralizados de tanto remar sin llegar a ningún lado.  Y si seguimos unos remando, mientras los otros se quedan de brazos caídos, los que por pura perseverancia y fé se queden, al final se darán cuenta de que están tratando de llegar a una isla prácticamente desierta.

Ojalá todos pudiésemos entender esto y de aquí en adelante remar juntos en la misma dirección, una de progreso, justicia y equidad para todos. 

martes, 23 de abril de 2013

Lessons from Añasco triathlon

Well I was ready to not have such a great race. Coming from months of no training and just a few weeks of doing a few workouts here and there, I could not expect great results.  My mission was simple and clear... to get some motivation to kick start training and put a good few weeks of solid swim,bike,run work before flying off to Germany.

Ok, so one thing is not expecting a great race, and another is actually having what's possible your worst race ever! Anyway, I'll spare you of the whole story and will just say it was an awful swim (had nothing to do with poor fitness in the water), followed by a pretty hard bike where I struggled from the moment I stepped on transition area and then closed the day with a horrible, very painful run (side stitches that wouldn't give me a break) in which on top of that I felt like I was breathing through a straw the whole time (yes, not such a subtle reminder that I need my asthma meds :-/ ) Good thing it was a beautiful day and I was happy to see so many friends! :)

There are good, regular and bad races, and things to be learned from each... right? So here's the stuff I learned this weekend.

1- Sleeping with the chip on your ankle might sound crazy but hey, there's no way you'll forget it ( i already did forget it at a previous race).

2- GOGGLES! Well this is one of those things that no one tells you and you find out the hard way.  ALWAYS have two pairs of goggles in your transition bag. A pair of tinted goggles and regular, clear ones.  On days like last Sunday, you won't be able to see buoys or your way to shore if using clear goggles. And on a darker day or earlier start, you won't see anything if using tinted goggles! That's why the need to have two. Just warm up, and if your goggles are not working properly for the conditions, switch them.

3- Swim Caps- Always have a sylicone cap in the transition bag.  This time swim caps were really big and thin. I figured it was going to come off during the swim, so I used mine first and put the race cap on top.

4- ORTHOTICS- They help me a LOT. They keep my nasty shin splints away.

5- Anti- chaffing sticks- Forget about them! Baby powder in the socks and shoes worked a lot better. Also, tape the neck, where the tri-suit rubs with strokes. Especially in my case that I breathe only to the left on races and when doing reps and working really hard. That is double the rubbing on the same side! And yes, I do need to work on bi lateral breathing.

6- If I end up loosing time in the water for whatever reason, do NOT try to make up for it by swimming even harder. It'll very likely set me up for a bad bike and even worse run! Just discovered swimming on too hard of a pace takes a big toll. Yes, it sounds logical, but that's not the way you think in the middle of the race while you are still in the water trying to figure out exactly where you are in time/space.

7- Forget about taping the gels to bike. I'd much rather VELCRO a flask inside the Profile Design bottle holder.  Have to try it though. The reason for this is I prefer a 50/50 mix of gel/water.  If I eat one gel just out of the packet I need to drink a lot of water to swallow it. And then that much water at once makes me feel sluggish. Plus the timing for the gel might not be the exact time when I want to drink 3/4 of a water bottle.  Need to try the velcro thing though.

8- TRANSITIONS - It's about darn time to learn to do transitions well. Easier and faster!

9- Heart Rate- I normally do not like to pace myself or base my training on HR numbers, let alone use a HR monitor for swimming. However, it would have helped a lot if I had pressed the start button on the Garmin at the start of the race. I'm still puzzled by how bad that race went and I'm sure some numbers from the swim might have helped because I'd have a bigger picture with data from the moment the race started until it ended.

Now time to get some solid work in these last weeks here in Puerto Rico and then off to hurt in the Alps! :-O

First cap on, second almost there



Ready for warm up, and that's when I realized I was in trouble with clear goggles!

Lost in transition. I could not find my bike... :( Arghhhhhh


Look whose cycling shoes are still clipped on the bike! :-D lol that's my first attempt. Wasn't all THAT bad

I guess even when I can't run, somehow form is pretty decent

Forget that I was having a bad race. As we would say... al mal tiempo buena cara! :) Google it ;)

domingo, 7 de octubre de 2012

Oktoberfest

So, I decided to stay a few more weeks in Germany. And yes, this is THAT time when they have that "little" beer fest they call... OKTOBERFEST! So of course I couldn't miss it.  I don't drink. And even if I could, all the barley in beer is a big no no because of my gluten intolerance issue.  Still, if you are in Germany around this time you just have to go!

We woke up and went to the train station. It is an hour and a half train commute to Munich. As soon as we got to the train station, I was delighted to see my favorite coffee brand in one of the shops. I am not a heavy coffee drinker. But this brand I just can't resist! So we made a quick stop, I grabbed a big to-go cappuccino and as soon as I took the first sip, I was in Lavazza heaven.

Lavazza cappuccino. Soooooo GOOOD!!!

It was a very nice, bright day and my delicious coffee made the train trip even more enjoyable.

Train station







As soon as we get off the train and out of the station, first thing I see... thousands of bikes. Left and right. EVERYWHERE!

Bike parking
After some walking, the promised land! ;)

Entrance


View of the first tents. Early in the morning.
     


Olympic Rings roller coaster



Lowenbrau tent.  Yes, that is a lion drinking beer :)

Beer barrels

Horses wearing some serious bling!


Inside one of the tents


Ok Now. You get to watch some very happy people. Already drunk at noon! hehe. And I'm told this is the PG version. As people get more drunk... things get crazy. As in not being this civilized and calm anymore. More like dancing on the tables, getting naked. Throwing underwear all over the place and yes, some fun, over the top make out sessions. But that is more in the wee hours. And after that, there is what they call beer zombies. Or simply put, drunk people who pass out in the grass all over the place. Bodies everywhere. And normally there are two scenarios.

1. They pass out, sleep and wake up the next day and go home

2. They pass out, sleep and wake up the next day to go straight to the tents and keep drinking!


I did not see any of this because normally I am not too keen of these big party/drunk people scenarios so we went to the day time festivities :) . Even so, it was pretty awesome and I had a lot of fun. See, people who drink tend to think that those of us who don't drink don't have fun. Less far from the truth. We have a BLAST. Watching people act funny and stupid while drunk.
That reminds me there were plenty of REALLY funny moments. As soon as we arrive we see a medical team who just had to stitch a guy's forehead. AND the dude was so drunk he kept rambling . Well most like trying to ramble LOL. They were trying to get rid of him but he wouldn't go. I think the police and medical team have a lot of patience to deal with um... not so rational people.

Then we had lunch in a very nice restaurant on the side of the fest. Because the tents were PACKED and we were starving.  Food was simply amazing. As we were about to leave, I see a guy dressed as a.... SHARK. Yes, a shark! lol and if that wasn't enough, apparently the kid (18 maybe?) was high on something reeeally good because he was growling and moving his fins and charging towards people! First he came to our table and did that to one of us. He got really close, supposedly biting the lady.  I swear I was expecting the tv crew thinking it was part of a prank show. But nope, the kid was just having some fun. He kept laughing and charging until he got kicked out of the restaurant. the manager went out to talk with him and he was bummed he couldn't have any more fun. hahahahah Crazy shit. This was hilarious. I laughed so so hard that my belly hurt. Hours later I ws still cracking up every time I remembered this. People's faces were priceless. And the kid was seriously having a blast. And that makes me think. That would be the most hilarious prank ever on a triathlon swim start. As I triathlete, I have no doubt it will creep people out right before going into the ocean for a long swim in what we call the S house.

Then as we were getting ready to take a bus and go to another part of the city to get some stuff I needed to cook a Puerto Rican dinner, two American guys passed us, speaking English and with a list of pick up phrases in German. I said "have fun, guys" and they were so drunk they thought I was a German girl and they had to speak in German to me. So I got some of the German pick up lines. You are cute want to have a beer with me? being my favorite one. All this trying to mumble some German. Never mind I was holding hands with my guy ;)


Well, as for every need there must be a solution, if you are so drunk and out of it you can't walk anymore but still want to keep moving, there are some happy bike taxi guys to take you where you want.

Bike taxi


I got one of these :-D . Good luck with the translation ;)
Spatzl i mog di

It was a fun fun day. Looking forward to next year. I might even stay for the night festivities!!!


lunes, 26 de diciembre de 2011

Lagoon Monster and open water adventures

So, in our Puerto Rican holiday madness pretty much everything was closed the day after Christmas.  My training schedule had a very nice swim workout but there was no pool for today as it was closed.  I knew this would be the case a few days ago, so I planned an open water swim.  Mind you, open water swimming and I are not BFFs... To be honest we've been warming up a to each other... a little.

Anyway, I decided to go for a swim in the lagoon, which is where we will swim the swim portion of the Ironman 70.3 San Juan.  I thought since the pool was going to be closed, a few friends would join me for this swim... WRONG! I guess after all the rum, coquito, partying and eating during Christmas day people wanted to rest. whoopsie.

Here is where things get quite amusing, except for the only swimmer who decided he wanted to join this "good swimmer" (according to him) . Dude has been a swimmer all his life.  So he is not your typical non swimming lover triathlete.

We get to the lagoon and I thought we were going to enter the water on the little "beach" spot that I am failiar with and feel kinda ok with. NO... he decided to enter the water through the dock area the hotel uses for the paddle boards and pedal boats.  Thing is... it's full of nasty weeds!!!!!!!! So we hadn't even started and I already wanted to leave! haha .  My heart was racing.  And as he was trying to convince e that the area he was using to get in the water was ok. Weeds and all. He made sure to put his silver, shining ID tag inside his trisuit. I decided to avoid the weeds by jumping on a 2'x2' space that I spotted. And started swimming right away!

We were swimming towards a little white buoy that was about 800 meters away if we swam in a straight line.   We got there with just one quick stop to make sure everything was ok.  Oh, because I told the poor man "do NOT swim away from me". About 20 times. No joke. We kept going and about 200m away from the buoy.... I swam into a huge patch of floating algae... I stopped. Tried to remain calm. Started swimming again.  Stopped again because I could not get over the freaking algae tangled in my hands.  Breathe. Brave on. Start swimming.  Got to buoy.  My friend asked if I was ok. I was... alive.

He then decides to swim to the bridge and swim under the bridge to cross the way we would if it was race day. NO way... I said please man. easy does it.  Another day... Let's just swim to where the race would start and we agreed. Started swimming and although I'm swimming pretty fast and fitness is good, my right shoulder, the one I broke, still gets tired and achy after a while and it seems because of the extra buoyancy or something, I found myself over compensating much.  Thing is I started falling behind. Not much, but I wasn't smacking his feet, just following his bubbles.  I did NOT like this.  The feeling of being in this huge lagoon with no one close was driving me crazy.  He WAS CLOSE, but since I knew I was drafting, and my arm was tired, I didn't know for how long I'd b able to hold on to the draft.  And he wouldn't even notice, or so I thought.  I stopped a LOT.  Fear was really getting to me.

Took a few deep breaths and started swimming. Could not help but to swim FAST... until I got to a spot where it was so shallow that I thought my arms and body were going to touch the weeds and rocks (yes, the place where animals hide) .  Stopped. COULD NOT GET MYSELF TO SWIM.  Rolled on my back, trying to think of how I was going to get out of that spot. um. DUH! There is just one freaking way. Swimming! I rolled again on my tummy and tried to swim, one stroke. NO! I Couldn't reaking get myself to swim. ROlled on my back and tried to swim backstroke. Oh wait, I don't even know how to swim like that! So there I was, doing some sort of snow angel like movement. Not really moving much.  Until my friend finally noticed I was "trapped" (inside my mind of course) and came to my rescue.  He guided me to a spot where it was deeper and I could swim. By then I was emotionally distraught and all I wanted was to get out of the damn lagoon.

After a gazillion stops we got to the small beautiful, beach like area where the IM San Juan starts. I wanted to get out and walk to the hotel area but had no shoes and there are all kind of glass and stuff that could ruin our feet. So we had to exit using the same spot we did to start the swim.  I was freaking out, so my poor swimming partner decided to show me that if I stayed close to the Mangroves, it was all soft sand and i could just walk.  I did so until we were about to get out of the water and then.... WEEDS! AND ROCKS!!! ARRgghhhh He had to come back to me and literally give me a hand to convince me to get closer. He shook his head and said "girl we need to do something. You are such a good swimmer and yet are so scared of the water"

I was mortified because as much as I wanted to get the hell out of water, today was a day of swallowing my pride BIG time.  Mind you I almost never complain in the water.  And then.... he says oh, stay still and look!!! I froze ... and then we saw a baby of one of this "cute" creatures. A FREAKING BARRACUDA!!! Remember I mentioned he made sure to put his pleated ID tag inside his tri suit? He did so because he's seen them before and he knows they go after things that sparkle because the fishies they eat are kind of silver looking.


Pretty friendly creatures the ones that live in one of our playgrounds eh? After that I went running. It was a really SLOW and short run. But after today's swim? It doesn't matter. I'll take the slow, short, crappy run!!!!

jueves, 24 de noviembre de 2011

Thanksgiving 2011

Well, it's Thanksgiving day.  And although I am thankful of these things every day, I thought it would be fun to name a few of the things I am grateful of. So, here it goes. 

1. My family. AND my friends. AND my dogs.  

2. My freedom

3. Being born in a loving, caring family and for having the BEST friends in the WORLD

4. My health and my loved ones being healthy.

5. WORK. My projects and the fact that I can make a living doing what I love. 

6. TRIATHLON.  BIKES and having my coach.  My bikes make me VERY happy.  You cycling nuts will agree with me.  BTW, dear God... give a special treat and a handshake to the awesome man who invented our two wheeled toys.

7. Twitter.  Thanks to it I've met really awesome people.  Most of them the coolest cycling and tri nuts.  

8.  My Iphone.  It makes ordinary life tasks so much easier. Plus, seriously, it helps keep my sanity when waiting in medical offices, government offices, bank lines, etc. You get the point.

9. All the people who believe in me and what I can do. Probably more than I believe... Thanks for kicking my ass when I start doubting myself.  

10.  Having this beautiful place I call home as my playground.  I LOVE Puerto Rico.

11.  My "talent" of being REALLY stubborn and a crazy dreamer.  It's taken me to great places that most people can only dream of.  

12.  Being alive. To chase my dreams. Step by step.  One day at a time.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!! :)

lunes, 3 de octubre de 2011

Cycling ramblings, road safety and more

Beep, honk, screaming, middle fingers, being cursed at. Threatened. Spanked. And in worst cases, run off the road.  Hit. We all know the drill.  Unfortunately, it's part of our daily routines in our lives as cyclists.  Whether you are a competitive cyclist, triathlete, someone training for fitness, riding for fun, commuting... At the end of the day, it doesn't matter. We are all cyclists, and out journeys on the road are full of those moments and memories we treasure so much.  But also, our lives on the road are full of less than memorable moments where the anger of motorists can, in a second, take precious things from us.  Our health, our lives, and that of our dear riding partners, the ones we share so many memories with.

Speaking about anger, most of us are aware of the awful Twitter rants from certain public figures that have chosen to use the huge following they have  and in some cases media, to spread more of what we dread so much and fight, but face every day. Anger in the road towards us.

How to forget @MrMichael_Smith who infamously mocked this year's Tour De France scariest moment when Hoogerland and Flecha were hit by a car? How can you possibly make fun of an accident that could have caused the death of two human beings and therefore cause the suffering of their friends, families and teammates for a lifetime? That one for me is still hard to swallow.  In part because a few months before, a riding partner was hit by a car. And the man didn't even stop.  He left her lying on the floor, with some broken bones in her back that required major surgery so she could walk again.  In part because two men I've deeply loved were almost killed by motorists while training on their bikes.  Oh, and how to forget the day where in middle of a traffic jam I saw an ambulance and looked to the side only to see a seatpost in the grass while the scene was being protected by that awful yellow tape? All I know is I'll never forget the face of the guy whose dad was killed that day while doing a training ride.  And although I can only speak for myself,  Mr. Smith's apology felt more like it was forced by his pr team.

And now that I mention team. Today, another media person felt the full wrath of the cycling community.  Although I must say @SamdeBrito did something very different to what Mr. Smith did.  Sam did not wait long to apologize. But he seemed shocked of how "passionate" we cyclists are.

What he doesn't understand is that different to football, baseball and other sports, at least for me, every cyclist, at the end of the day, belongs to my team. Some are faster, some train harder, some are uniquely talented and gifted. So much that it allows them to earn a living doing what we all love.  We are all cyclists.  We share the same love for the sport and our beloved two wheeled friends, who happen to sleep inside our houses and in some cases, in our bedrooms! We also share the same experiences, the same fears and joys of riding.  When we see another cyclist stop, we stop. Or simply ask if he or she is ok.  You lend a tube, Co2, cell phone... whatever is needed. You simply do what you would do for a teammate.  It doesn't matter if you know the cyclist or not.  Now why do we do that? Well, again only my inexperienced voice here but I think it is because that girl with a flat tire on the side of the road reminds me of my first few rides, when I didn't even know how to change a flat. When I was scared to death to go out but I still braved on and went for solo rides.  Or because you know too well that guy that just crashed his bike or is being taken off the road by a car driver can be you at any moment.  So we defend each other and fiercely try to get our voices out.

Now, although I can understand our frustration, I am disgusted by some of the responses by our cycling community.  Some people have responded not only with unbeilivable verbal abuse and rants but some have chosen to take it even further, wishing horrible things to these people and threatening physical injury if they ever cross paths.  It's crazy how some people try to validate their point. And my concern is that instead of getting the real messages we need to get across, those attitudes might actually backfire on us.

So today for me was one of those "back to the drawing board" days.  I've had a couple ideas on how to try improve conditions for me and my fellow cyclists.  And I think a lot of it is that people just don't know.  They don't understand. No rocket science there. We all knew that. But really, just to give an example, today I was covering an event with my camera guy.  Mind you, he has nothing to do with bikes. He is extremely overweight and in his own journey to health and fitness.  The thing is since he is working with me, and seeing firsthand how cyclists struggle, get yelled at and how the drivers make passes and turns that could easily hurt the cyclists, my camera guy is now a "cycling friendly driver" and advocate.  Yesterday he was genuinely frustrated while watching the cars get in front of the cyclists or get too close to them.

That got me thinking that everytime someone pulls a @MrMichael_Smith I will call him out for it, but there is really a lot more I think I can do.  There are a lot of "camera guys" out there that might just need some information and perhaps an insight into our lives as cyclists and our great need of space and respect  on the road.  So how can I help? That was the question in my mind all day.  A lot of things came up.  But for starters, although I don't tend to think much about it, sometimes, like today, people give me friendly reminders that as a public figure in my country, I have a voice that can be heard by a lot of people.  So in my "back to drawing board" session I decided to use that gift and am designing a PSA campaign that will launch within the next few months.  There are also quite a few other projects that I hope will help get our voices out, educate and also help reinforce existing laws.

But even so, I think the question should never stop.  I want safer roads and conditions for me and my friends.... then what am I doing to make that happen? Because one thing for sure... just complaining ain't gonna cut it.

martes, 17 de mayo de 2011

Modeling. Back then and ....

I don't even know where to start this post. Many of you have asked how I started modeling and why I haven't been modeling.  WHere have I been in the past 8 years... I'll do my best to explain it in this post, because to be honest, I still don't know.

I started modeling as a 15 year old. As many of you know (last blog post), by the time I was 17, I was already traveling quite a bit for work.  I knew from the moment I started modeling that I wanted to be Miss Puerto Rico Universe and go to Miss Universe.  And let me explain, in Latin American countries, beauty queens and pageants are a HUGE thing.  In most of our countries, the pageant where they choose who will represent the country is a huge success in ratings. In Colombia, for example, the pageant is held every year in Colombia's Independence Day and it literally stops the country.  Every single eye is on the program. Same thing happens in Venezuela and, well in Puerto Rico that program has the highest ratings of all programs in the Island's tv.  We take huge pride in everyone who represents us. Our flags. Our countries.  Athletes, musicians, beauty queens.....

Since I was a little girl (say 5?) , I was being watched by some family friends who were 100% sure I could be Miss Puerto Rico.  As a little girl it sounded like fun. But weird. Every little girl dreams with being a princess, model, actress..... well, my version of princesses were gymnasts, figure skaters.  You get the point. SPORTY! lol . Well, as I entered my teens, I was a volleyball player, and I loved it SO much... God, such great memories. But whenever I saw these friends who wanted me to be Miss PR, I was annoyed. I really couldn't see myself as a model. Let alone a beauty queen! All I could see was an athlete.  Two years later, our coach quit because he had to move to San Juan. The school brought another coach... and it sucked! Not the coach, the situation. The change in the level was brutal.  We were used to awesome/hard training and competing at the highest level for junior high/high schools and winning a whole lot of the tournaments. And there we were... with a coach that tried his best, but really didn't know how to keep up with us, let alone take us to another level.  It took just a few weeks for the level of frustration to get so high that there was no more team. No one wanted to go to practice anymore.  My real job as a team member during the games was just serving because I was really powerful but I was way too small. I was the only 7nth grader playing in the seniors league with 17 year olds that were so tall that it felt that they doubled my size.  haha When they ordered the uniforms, they always had to order my V.B. Rags pants in kids size.. medium :-/ . Of course being so thin was going to be an assett later on... I just didn't know.

The thing is just like that there was no more volleyball for me.  And the only other sports that people in this town practice are baseball and basketball. And I truly HATE both.  So, no more sports for me.  I was bored, really bored. As in starting to consider taking modeling classes. Uhum... But in my mind I wasn't really interested in modeling. I just wanted to do something! And I knew it wouldn't hurt to learn some stuff about make up/ hair/ fashion/etiquette. All those things were going to be useful later on when I wanted to get a job. So I told mom and she was happy about it.  Not for the modeling but for the fact that I would learn all that stuff. I started the classes with a friend, who really was into modeling. She quit and I kept going. And I was always top of my class. In everything.... And the photographers, make up artists and casting directors really wanted me to give it a try. They all saw what I still couldn't see. And slowly I started falling in love with it.  I entered a beauty pageant and won it.

After finishing that year as a beauty queen I was not sure I wanted to go for the Miss Puerto Rico but let the door open.  When I turned 19, people started asking to coach me for the pageant. They wanted me to enter.  I decided I was going to try it in a year and a half but with a team I could choose.  And I chose the best of the best.  Having won the previous crown, the pressure was on.

And just like that, I started training. My boyfriend at the time was an elite cyclist... yup, that's how I got in all this bike stuff.  I chose to do my physical training on a bike. And I loved every second of it.  And although my boyfriend was helping me achieve my Miss PR goal and wanted me to win it, he liked what he saw on the bike and wanted me to finish with the pageant stuff and... start training, seriously, get in the federation and race. Not happening. Bike races and I DO NOT MIX. I love watching but I don't like to be too close to other people.  But anyway, I trained with passion. I used to ride the trainer watching Chris Carmichael's videos and imagining myself training for races and racing. Um... don't ask. I liked to visualize that. Although I did not like the idea of racing. Maybe I like it but I'm too much of a chicken to give it a try! :-O

I won the pageant and I kept using those videos with Chris to train and I liked thinking that I would get to meet him and be one of the athletes in the videos .... haha crazy shit happens when you imagine stuff but that's a whole different blog post. :P   .  I think I used that as an escape from the mounting pressure from the preparation for the Miss Universe pageant, the hectic schedule with little sleep, dealing with daily scrutiny from the media and interviews.  Add to that daily  schedule of classes, the photo shoots and all the ridiculous power war that exploded within the organization. On top of that I was being "coached" by a person that tried her best to make my life miserable every single day. Just like that. Just because she didn't like me. And she didn't like me because I won over a girl she wanted. I feel like I could handle all the work, media and stress well. Just not the craziness going on in what was supposed to be my support team.

I felt like a rubber doll and everyone from the team was pulling me from different directions.  Back and forth, side to side. You end up staing in the same place!

By the time I got to the Miss Universe Pageant I was physically and emotionally exhausted and DRAINED. And when it was over I just wanted to relax. And do whatever the hell I wanted to, IF I wanted to.  I'd had enough and wanted nothing to do with it.  I wanted to be with my boyfriend. And train, no. Not really train. I was so drained I hated the word TRAIN. Big time. But I wanted to go for rides.  And since I was still under contract with the organization, that was a huge tension point.  They didn't want me to ride because if I crashed, I could screw things up. Road rash. Contracts. etc.  I still woke up Saturdays and by the time it was 7 am , we were riding.  Just my boyfriend and his best friend. Protecting me. No drafting. Just riding.  And my bf's dad would wait us at about 60 miles, pick me up so the guys could go on with their training.  Good times... I loved it and I think that was my way of claiming some level of independence and space. It was a bit crazy. I was risking a lot but we tried making it as safe as possible. And I would have gone crazy if it wasn't because of those times.  There was only one ally in the organization... the VP of sales in the channel, of course a cyclist =P . He knew I was riding but looked the other way! And he was supposed to be the most concerned of all (VP of sales who handled all the contracts, including mine). haha Oh man.... I owe you !

So the year as Miss PR ended. I still remember that first Monday I spent in my apt. with nothing to do. Just whatever I WANTED to do.... Ahhhh..... I spent the whole morning eating Lucky Charms and just sitting in the sofa looking at the sky.  Savoring the moment, the silence... the freedom! Of course there were awesome moments and I enjoyed and I treasure TONS of memories.  I wouldn't finish writing if I were to write about ALL the fun stuff and great things I enjoyed!!! But this post is about why I wasn't modeling so....

I wanted to spend more time with my family, boyfriend, myself.  I was tired. That was all... I did a couple more campaigns but then I moved on to coach girls for pageants and give modeling classes.  I stopped exercising, ate whatever I felt like and gained weight. And as I gained weight I did NOT feel like taking even 1 picture.  I felt ok with my body but shooting while in that size was simply out of question for me. NO WAY. And since I was not working or even shooting for the fun of it, there was no reason to be in what I had known as being in shape, so I let myself go.  I know some of you that know me are thinking right now that it's not like I ballooned but to me, it was.

Fast forward a couple years. I was bored and struggling with trying to get back in shape. And there was not an interesting project in the works that would make me shift to my pro mindset and get back in shape, no matter how hard it was.

I had ended my relationship with the cyclist and all the people I knew from cycling were his friends. I didn't feel like contacting them. Funny because now all these people and I have reconnected and they welcomed me with open arms. Some of you know that I always say for some reason I like to train and be sorrounded by cyclists more than triathletes. It just feels more familiar I think. And I couldn't find the courage to go for solo rides.  I was always protected and had company when training.  I dreaded and to this dread indoor training. Now I can manage to get myself do what I need to do, but at that time I tried a couple days and it was over. No more training.

Then I saw one of those Ironman World Champs Coverage and thought why not? Next day I was looking for a coach and started training. In the process, I lost a whole lot of weight and people started asking for pictures. And I started feeling more like myself and decided to give it a try and see what happened and what we came up with.  I chose a great team of talented friends, Siul Martinez as the photographer and Confessor Bermudez as Make up artist. I did the styling, which was actually very simple but cool. I also chose location.

So, my friends, you will get to see what we came up with as we gear up for some little fun with 30days30pictures. We will post a daily pic on Twitter and Facebook so stay tuned! :D