1

Training recap: 10/6-10/12

Last week was crazy intense with my trip to the Grace Hopper Celebration for Women in Computing (probably more on that soon), but I did manage to get four runs in!

I ran two mornings while away in Phoenix which is what I was hoping to pull off, so I can’t complain. My Wednesday morning run was done on the hotel treadmill which was my first treadmill run since January, I believe. It was sort of torture, but I did my four miles and didn’t entirely want to kill myself! I ended up being too exhausted from everything going on Thursday and Friday to get up and run so I made it up with a run on Saturday morning before catching my flight home. This time, I actually ran outside, though. I didn’t know the area at all since I’ve never been to Phoenix so I just did two laps around the area near the hotel for four miles total, but it was a surprisingly fast run and felt amazing.

Sunday’s long run was planned to be ten miles, I but I didn’t really expect that to happen considering how exhausted I was. I ran seven miles and stopped, but since I was still two miles from home, I decided to at least hit eight miles and cut down on the walk home. I’m not too disappointed by it though, I knew this was likely to be the case.

The good news, though, is that all my fall craziness is over! Mostly. I’ve got nothing but normal life from now until our Disney Wine & Dine racation next month! So I’ve got no excuse to not start pumping up the miles in preparation for the Goofy Challenge in January! I’ve also got no excuses to start blogging more again!

2014 Grace Hopper Celebration  badge

This was a blast!

1

Training recap: 9/29-10/5

Finally, we moved! Last week was CRAZY trying to get everything done and get ourselves to the new place, but we made it and it’s awesome! I didn’t get to run at all during the week, but I’m not too surprised by that, I sort of expected it.

On Saturday, I got up early and knocked out a nice 10-miler in Liberty State Park with the company of the wife and Dori for the first couple of miles. Sadly, this was my longest run in three months, but I’m glad to finally have double-digit mile runs in my life again. After the run, we got ready real quickly and headed down to South Jersey for another wedding. This time it was my ex-girlfriend’s wedding, but it was total blast. We’re still very good friends and I consider her and her family to be family so it was great to celebrate with them. For some of her extended family on her dad’s side, it was the first time I’ve seen them in years, since way before I transitioned, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from them, but it was a complete non-thing at all. It didn’t even really come up. Everyone just treated me the same as they did before. It was really nice.

College radio kids all grown up...sort of.

College radio kids all grown up…sort of.

Sunday morning we drove back home and tried to do some more unpacking before going out for a five-miler. I told myself it had to be a recovery run since my legs were really feeling the ten-miles and hours of dancing, but my legs had other plans. I ended up doing more of a tempo pace, but I felt good.

I’m starting to think my legs are getting ready to start pushing the training again. I hope so. I want to run fast again! This week I’m away at the Grace Hopper Celebration, a conference for women in tech, so it’s going to be another crazy week, but things should be calming down after this and life should be closer to some sort of normal again. Maybe.

NYC skyline from Jersey City

Gotta respect this view of from my new running route!

2

Training recap: 9/22-9/28

Yeah, last week didn’t quite go how I had hoped with running. My weekday runs went according to plan, but the weekend was a bit of a disaster.

I was supposed to get up early as hell on Saturday to knock out ten miles and then get ready to go to a wedding, but when the alarm went off at 5:30, I decided a three-hour snooze-a-thon would be a better idea. No run happened, but my body was definitely telling me I needed some sleep and I listened. The wedding was a blast though!

On Sunday, we got up early to head home and get back to work with packing since we’re loading up the truck tonight and then we have to be out tomorrow. I also found out my new insurance doesn’t cover injectable estradiol, which is a bit of a problem for me. Just another thing on the list of shit I’ve got to get sorted out. Luckily, the day was very productive otherwise. I was able to squeeze in a five-miler in the evening, but it was anything but a good run. Oh well.

I closed out the week with just three runs for seventeen miles. Unfortunately, this week won’t be any better thanks to the move.

Couple o' hotties right here

Couple o’ hotties right here

Hanging on the bus

Hanging on the bus

Mustache time!

Mustache time!

7

Has it been worth it?

This has been a rough week emotionally. Like, just brutal. I’m just starting to really recover from Monday, but it’s left me with a lot of lingering feelings. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about transition’s affect on me. Has it really been a net positive on my life? I think the answer is yes, but it’s not firm and clear-cut answer.

Much of my dysphoria is gone and I’m happier with who I am and my ability to be something closer to “myself.” I don’t hate myself anymore and my time spent thinking about suicide is greatly decreased–though, not erased. There is much less disconnect between me and who I present myself as and it’s continuing to decrease every day. I am finally happy with my gender. I no longer feel alien to myself. I’m a happier me.

But that’s only part of the story. My life is harder now. One gigantic problem in my life has now been replaced by many much smaller onesMy marriage is still in existence and solid, but it has taken a massive beating. I’m noticeably less able to handle high-stress situations or many problems at all once. I now feel emotionally fragile in many ways. The source of general unhappiness is no longer within me, but it’s external, from how I am treated by others. I’ve relinquished some control over my mood and emotions to the outside world. This is still something I’m struggling with.

I, surprisingly, spend more time feeling alienated from others and generally out of place. Not only do I feel constantly judged, but I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. I feel awkward around groups of women, as I am constantly in fear that they don’t really see me as one of them. And I, obviously, don’t fit in around men. I used to be able to fake it enough around groups of guys to feel accepted (ish), but I can’t do that anymore. I don’t even want to. In mixed company, I feel like I have no idea where I stand.

I actually don’t even really trust many men at all. If I’m being honest, my default is to hate all men and find them entirely untrustworthy. Most of this stems from knowing how men are and what they say when they don’t think any women are around. I essentially lived as a spy behind enemy lines for three decades and what I learned, saw, and experienced is horrifying to me. No, it’s “not all men,” but it’s enough that I have to start with this mindset and require men to prove themselves otherwise. Either way, it’s a lot of added complication in life.

This is really just the start of it, I could go on and on forever, but these are the things on my mind this week. 

While the net effect, positive or negative, is not a black and white answer, whether transitioning was the right decision is an unquestionable yes. I am hopeful that, over time, some of these smaller problems will either fade away or be able to be fixed with a little effort. However, in the meantime, I am at the mercy of the society around me. People repeatedly try to tell me I’m strong or brave or whatever the fuck, but I don’t think I’m brave at all and my strength is more survival than anything else. I have limits and they’re different than they were pre-transition. I’m still learning what they are.

But the thing about all of this is, my overall feeling on it all fluctuates regularly. After a super awesome good week, none of the negatives register with me. During those weeks, I am better, life is better, everything is better. Obviously, though, that’s not the problem. It’s weeks like this one that are the struggle. All I can focus on is the negative.

About how I feel this week.

About how I feel this week.

6

When being assaulted isn’t even the worst part of your day

If you follow me on Twitter, you briefly saw some of this last night, but I didn’t include any details. So let me tell you about my day yesterday…

I’ll start at the beginning of my day. As many of you are aware, my wife and I are moving soon and trying to get all ready for that. Part of this has involved many phone calls. Almost without exception, using the phone is a high anxiety thing for me. I’ve never much liked the phone, it just makes me really uncomfortable, but since transitioning it’s a whole new level of torture…panic-attack inducing, even. Because of my voice, I get misgendered almost 100% of the time. Even after correcting the person on the other end of the line, they often still can’t grasp calling me “ma’am” instead of “sir.” You’d think knowing my name is Amelia would be enough, but it never seems to be.

Like I said, I’ve had to make a ton of phone calls for things like closing our utility accounts here, opening accounts there, parking permits, the moving truck, and all that other fun stuff that comes with moving. All of the accounts here are in my name and I generally manage our finances so it makes sense to keep them that way. Unfortunately, that means I have to be the one to call and, even more unfortunately, the accounts I’m closing are all under my birth name since they were opened prior to transitioning. So this requires having to pretend to be old me and put up with the misgendering.

Yesterday morning, I had to make about six different phone calls in the morning and it took a lot out of me emotionally to have to deal with it it all. By the end of the day, I was just barely starting to shake it off, but I was having a serious “I look like a dude” kind of day so I still wasn’t in the best of shape. I left work a few minutes early so I could catch an earlier train and I made it just in time to grab a seat on what became a standing-room only train.

Sitting on the train, already hating myself and feeling like I really stood out as a freak (which is not how I typically feel), I took out my phone to entertain myself, as I normally do. I caught up on Twitter and then moved over to Tumblr before finally getting to Facebook. As I was scrolling through Facebook, I got to some photos from my friend’s wedding shower last month. There were a good 200 of them, but I was running low on stuff to look at so I decided to flick through them all. Of the 200, only a handful had me in them, which is a good thing, but as I got to each photo I was in, I felt more and more horrible about myself. I know I’m not very photogenic–before you decide to tell me otherwise, realize that the selfies I post are usually the result of more than a dozen takes, editing in two different apps, and then double-filtered–but these were exceptionally bad. As I looked at them, I couldn’t see a woman in there at all. The only thing I could see was “the man I used to be.” This piled onto how I already felt about myself for the day and really kicked me in the ladyballs. I felt hideous and freakish and horribly dysphoric. I wanted to curl up in a ball and die. The whole thing put me into a nice suicidally depressed state.

The next part requires a little backstory…most days, my wife drops me off at the train station closest to our house. There isn’t really a good parking option for that station so it just makes sense to do it this way. Less headaches. However, my wife had a work trip followed by a personal trip that resulted in her not being able to drive me for the last four days, leaving me to have to drive myself to the station. Since the parking isn’t great there, I drove up to the next station where there is parking…sort of. For about a half mile radius around the train station, the streets are all resident-only parking and permits are required. However, if you’re willing to walk, there are no permits required beyond that. These are all residential streets so you’re awkwardly parking in front of random houses, but people do it. I don’t make a habit of it because I know I would be highly annoyed about people doing it if I lived there, but my options were limited and it was just for four days. The first three days were completely fine and there were no issues other than getting a serious death stare from the guy who lives in the first house outside of the permit zone.

Yesterday was different though. I got off the train, feeling nearly suicidally depressed, dysphoric, and self-hating, but I was still in enough control of my emotions to know it’d pass and I’d be fine. Barely. As I got close to my car, I saw an old Chinese man yelling at a young man. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could figure it out. The younger man was parked in front of the same house as I was, two cars up. I figured “great, now this guy is going to fuck with me.” I was right.

As I got up to my car, the old man came over to me and started screaming at me about parking there. He was obviously very upset, but he was also clearly a first-generation American and spoke very little English. If I could guess, his vocabulary must have been only a couple hundred words. I felt a bit bad for him, at first, with how much he was struggling to communicate and that he couldn’t understand what I was saying.

I didn’t want to get into it with him. I’m a transgender woman and it was dark out now and I was alone. While I consider the area to be reasonably safe, I was already in a very compromised emotional state and red flags for my safety started going up as I quickly thought of all the bad places this could end up going.

I ignored him and got in my car. I already had my keys in my hand so I started up and tried to make a quick getaway. Unfortunately, he crossed right in front of my car and wouldn’t move. He leaned up against my car while screaming at me and blocked any attempt for me to leave. I tried to back up, but there wasn’t enough room to back out of the spot.

I rolled down the window and screamed at him to get off of my car and let me leave, but he refused and continued to lean up against it and pound his hand on it.

I was being kept there against my will and being verbally assaulted. I felt terrified and alone.

He screamed that he was going to call the police and report me for parking there. I tried to explain to him that this street was not a permit parking street and anyone could park there. I also tried to explain that I understood where he was coming from, but I had done nothing wrong. He couldn’t understand me, but got in my face screaming at me and continued to physically block my ability to leave. I then tried to explain to him that what he was doing was assault and the police, which he had called, were going to arrest him and I would press charges. He didn’t seem to fully understand and was undeterred.

At this point, the younger man he was originally yelling at came back. He had moved his car down the street so the older man couldn’t block him and then walked back up to try to help me.

At first, I was glad that he was back to help. But then, he started with the misgendering. He kept calling me “man” and “he” even after I asked him not to. Eventually, after the fourth or fifth time, I took a stand against him and said “stop calling me he and man. I am a woman.”

Now, I felt even more scared. I had this younger man who was trying to help me, but was actually attacking me verbally without even realizing it. All I wanted was to go home and escape this, but I was being physically blocked from moving my car and stuck standing between the two of them. I had one man screaming at me about my car and the other one stripping me of my identity with no real way to escape. I knew if I just walked or ran away, the younger man wouldn’t stop me, but I couldn’t even do that. At this point, my car was half in the middle the street and couldn’t be left where it was. If it was, it would have been towed for blocking the street. And I couldn’t risk possibly running over this older man. Any action on my part could have only made my situation even worse.

At one point, some neighbors came out and tried to reason with the man, he wouldn’t listen. They quickly gave up after telling him he was going to get arrested, but I feared other neighbors who might turn on me coming out as well.

There was nothing I could do except wait for the cops to get there, which was yet another terrifying element of this. The police are rarely kind to trans folk. In most cases, they cannot be trusted to treat us with respect and humanity. In the worst cases, they assault us even further. There is good reason why trans people don’t trust the police and often don’t report things to them. It’s actually safer not to.

I had no idea what was going to happen with the police. I knew I was not, in any way, in the wrong, but there was no way for me to know if the police were going to essentially punish me for being trans.

The younger man asked me if I wanted him to stay and, despite being repeatedly misgendered by him, that seemed like the better option. He didn’t quite seem to understand my level of being upset and tried to calm me down a little. Eventually, knowing he was not a threat to my physical safety, I said “look, you don’t understand how terrifying it is to be kept somewhere against your will, especially as a transgender women.” I immediately regretted saying that last part. I wanted to somehow convey why this was such a big deal to me and why I was not able to keep my cool, but I wish I hadn’t.

This is where things became invasive. He asked me if this is my real voice. I said it was and he followed up asking me if I had some sort of a procedure done on it. I was mortified. What? Why was he asking about my voice?! Then it hit me, he thought I was a transgender man and was questioning how my voice was so deep. He thought I was “born a woman and wanted to be a man,” to use the words he ended up saying a few seconds later. I corrected him with my standard “when I was born, the doctor said ‘it’s a boy!’ I disagree.”

He sort of half apologized, but then started asking me more questions about my being trans and said things like “you think and feel like you’re a woman, okay. I get it.” This felt like the only part of my day I could push back against so I stood firm here. I said “I don’t think I am a woman. I AM a woman.” I asked him to tell me what makes him a man without mentioning anything physical. When he replied with basically “I don’t know, I just am,” I quickly said “that’s how I feel about being a woman. I just am.” He finally seemed to get it and the tensions dropped a bit on that front. He asked my name and, after I told him, he said it was his sister’s name. I felt like I had at least won one of my battles for the day, but I wasn’t unscathed by it. It’s kind of like a “you should see the other guy” situation.

Meanwhile, the older man is still blocking my car and yelling at me about the cops coming. I was still being held there against my will. I was still terrified of other neighbors who may end up being violent against me for being transgender. And I was still scared of what was going to happen when the police got there.

Eventually, the cops showed up. I was relieved to see it was two female cops. This doesn’t mean it’s automatically going to be okay, but it’s a big step in the safer direction. The younger man walked over and quickly explained what happened and the cops told us both to leave and called the older man over to explain that he was wrong and couldn’t do what he was doing.

I could have stayed and decided to press charges against the older man and, despite the fact that he was an upset old man who didn’t speak English, I probably should have. But I needed to get out of that situation as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to deal with the cops. I didn’t want to risk it getting worse for me.

I cried most of the way home. When I walked into the house, I went straight upstairs and curled up in a ball on the bed…which had no sheets on it and had just been sprayed with flea killer stuff.

This could have been a lot worse. I wasn’t physically hit, no hands were placed upon me. The assault part had nothing to do with me being trans. I was able to eventually leave physically unharmed.

But my day yesterday is a perfect example of how our society is not trans-friendly. Being trans means being constantly under attack from every angle. Right from the beginning yesterday, my very identity was under attack. I had my gender and who I am stripped from me. I was forced to explain my very existence to a stranger. I tore myself down to a near suicidal level simply because I’ve been conditioned by our society to pick apart my appearance. And it’s not just the way all women pick themselves apart because of the unfair standards placed on us. That‘s a good day for me. This was picking apart a large and important part of who I am. It wasn’t “am I pretty enough,” it was “do I even look like a woman?”

Misgendering someone is an assault on them. It’s emotionally and mentally destroying. On its own, being held against my will wasn’t the worst part of my day. Without all the other stuff, if I wasn’t trans, I could have handled this situation much better. I wouldn’t have feared for my safety. I wouldn’t have feared the cops. I wouldn’t have gone home in tears and felt violated. But, as a trans person, this was my nightmare. I had no real escape plan. The control over my safety and my situation was taken from me, along with my identity, at a time when my emotional and mental state was already compromised.

Under normal circumstances, I don’t allow myself into situations where my safety is at risk with no clear exit plan. I am constantly aware of my surroundings and how to escape if needed. When I walk down the street alone, I am unapproachable. I make myself cold and uninviting. I keep a straight face with no emotion. I keep my stare focused and aimed down the street. Sometimes, I keep headphones on with either no music or the volume low so as to discourage interaction with me. But I am always listening to everything going on around me. I am watching everything.

The simple state of being transgender and being oneself means a being constantly under attack and constantly torn down. It is terrifying.

0

Training recap: 9/15-9/21

Okay, so last week didn’t exactly go how I would have liked for it to. It was actually an incredibly busy week and my running really suffered. :-/

My Wednesday run was shorter than planned and felt awful thanks to staying late at work for an Out in Tech panel about how social media is helping LGBT youth. There was beer and pizza, so, naturally, I had some. I spent most of my run feeling indigesty and crampy. Not good. Thursday’s run was canceled thanks to my manager having us all over to his place for poker, games, drinks, and dinner. It was a great time, but I didn’t get home until around 1 am. Ideally, I would have made up the run on Friday night, but I ended up meeting some of my former coworkers for dinner and drinks. Oh well!

My manager's home computer setup is absolutely nuts and this is coming from a pretty big gadget nerd.

My manager’s home computer setup is absolutely nuts and this is coming from a pretty big gadget nerd.

Saturday was planned to be ten miles, but things got a little hectic. I had to get up super early (5am) to take the wife to the airport, then I had to wait for someone to come by to take some stuff I was selling on Craigstlist. After that, I was so tired from two nights of only five hours of sleep that I crawled back into bed and said “fuck it.” It didn’t help much either that I had to get ready for a bachelorette party that started at noon so I wouldn’t have even been able to fit in more than four miles anyway by that point.

I’d never been to a bachelorette party before. I’d been to one bachelor party and had my own bachelor party (which…feels weird calling it that), but that’s it. It was a ton of fun though! Even though part of the night was karaoke which I hate and refuse to actually take part in (actually, I took a nap on the couch while others were singing!), I really, really enjoyed the night.

Anyway, after being out until 3am on Saturday night, I was surprised I ran at all on Sunday, let alone had a solid eight miles. Go figure!

So I ended up only running three days and 17 miles last week, but there just wasn’t time for much more than that. This week should be a little better, but I think next week will suck. We’ll see!

She wanted a nautical theme so we all had sailor hats! We looked ridiculous and it was awesome!

She wanted a nautical theme so we all had sailor hats! We looked ridiculous and it was awesome!

Classic.

Classic.

Yeah, NO WAY I was going to do this. Figures I got this one, right? I've spent enough of my life in the men's room, no need to go back.

Yeah, NO WAY I was going to do this. Figures I got this one, right? I’ve spent enough of my life in the men’s room, no need to go back.

The beautiful view from the rooftop bar where we ended the night

The beautiful view from the rooftop bar where we ended the night

 

3

Training recap 8/25-9/14

Whew! It’s been a busy last three weeks! My days have been really long with the new job. I head out the door at 8am and don’t see my house again until about 12 hours later. By the time I get home, I’m completely worn out and beat, but I’ve somehow been managing to squeeze some nighttime runs in. I’ve been running 4-5 days a week still which I’m pretty impressed about considering my schedule.

With the weather cooling down a little, my pace is starting to get a little faster again, but my milage still hasn’t been all that high. Last week, I hit 26 miles, but my longest run was still only eight miles. I need to start working on that like yesterday. I’d like my long runs to be 15-16 miles before the Disney Wine & Dine half marathon in November so I’m in good shape to continue on with training and be ready for Goofy in January.

I’ve been getting to get pretty bummed out about not running a fall marathon. The season is starting to ramp up and everyone has their races coming up. Even though I know killing all marathon plans for this season was the right move, it still wasn’t an easy decision and I’m still not happy about it. I have Goofy in January, but I don’t really see that as a race, just something fun to do. I’m not making any hard plans for the spring yet, but I’m hoping to do a late March, early April race. I know I swore I’d never race a spring marathon again, but I’m kind of dying here. I don’t think I could wait all the way until next fall to race another 26.2

Anyway, besides work, we’ve been trying to pack as much as possible and get ready for our move in two weeks. We’ve also been unfortunately dealing with a flea infestation. We have no idea where they came from. Our cats are 100% indoor so we know they didn’t bring them in. I’ve got a couple theories, but we’ll never know. All I know is this fucking sucks. If you’ve had fleas in your house before, you know how skeevy you feel all the time about it. Even when I’m not home, I’m constantly paranoid they’re crawling all over me. We treated the cats last week so now they’re at least walking flea death machines. We’ve also been vacuuming at least once a day and spraying flea stuff as much as we can without poisoning our cats…and ourselves. The good news is that we’ve at least regained control of the house, but this feels like it’s still far from over. I’m just hoping we can keep from bringing any with us to our new place. I have this fear that we’ll start opening boxes to find they were infested and then we’re back at square one.

Alright, off to work!

 

Hattie didn't like me leaving her.

Hattie didn’t like me leaving her.

5

First day

It seems like it’s been ages since I accepted my job offer, but today is finally my first day!

I’m super nervous about it, but that’s kind of normal for me. I already forget my lunch in the refrigerator at home and I hate the way I look today. So I’m off to a great start so far.

Anyway, going to keep this one short! Have a good week everyone!

16

Hair. Cut.

I’ve been growing my hair out for around two years now. My hair grows kind of slow, I guess, but I was starting with about a finger’s width of hair. While I’ve been really excited to see my hair actually getting longer and pass my shoulders, it finally reached a point where it needed its first real cut. Because my hair is super curly and frizzy and an all-around mess, I also had been meaning to get a keratin treatment as well. I flat iron it every day and that’s definitely taken it’s toll on my hair. It feels dry and it breaks a lot. It also doesn’t help that my hair is two different lengths; the top is shorter than the bottom. Mostly, I just wear it in a ponytail with some long bangs that sweep partially across my forehead.

It was time to do something about this so when I saw a Living Social deal for keratin at a place reasonably close, I snatched it up (not that these don’t pop up all the time). With my new job starting on Tuesday and being off this week, I was hopeful I could get an appointment right away and was lucky enough to get one for today (I called Tuesday).

I walked in without much of an idea of what the treatment was like or how I wanted my hair cut. I knew I wanted at least a couple inches off, but I still need it long enough to put in a ponytail.

Since I haven’t been to this salon before and didn’t have a recommendation, I didn’t know who to ask for so I just made the appointment with whoever was available. I was surprised when it turned out that my appointment was with a man. I wasn’t really sure if I was comfortable with having a man doing my hair, but I didn’t seem to have much of a choice if I wasn’t prepared to just walk out, never to return again.

When I told him what I was thinking about how I wanted my hair cut, he kept pointing his finger to a shorter length than I was trying to show him. I got a little worried, I really didn’t want too much taken off. When he started cutting, I sort of immediately freaked out in my head, “OMG! HE’S CUTTING ALL MY HAIR OFF!!!!!!!” But as he made his way around more and I could see more of it, I started to like it. He didn’t cut it all right away, instead, he said he was going to leave the top until after everything else was done and my hair was dry. When we walked over to the area where the keratin dryer was, I was able to get a good look at the length and kind of fell in love with it.

Not quite done yet

Not quite done yet

After everything was done and he finished up drying and cutting my hair, I put my glasses back on and spent a minute checking it out in the mirror. Definitely loving it!

In the car immediately after walking out

In the car immediately after walking out

I don’t know how easily it’ll all go up into a ponytail, I may need to go back to using six or seven bobby pins to get it all to stay, but I can deal with that. Because of the keratin, I won’t be able to wash it, get it wet, use any product, put it in a ponytail, or use any hair ties or hair clips for three days. So I won’t get to really find out until Sunday. And, unfortunately, I won’t be able to run until then which really sucks for my mileage this week. Like, really sucks, since I’ve only run six miles so far.

I also had to cancel my plans to go river tubing with some friends on Saturday as well. I had to send an email with one of the most stereotypically girly excuses ever. “I’m sorry, I can’t get my hair wet. I have to bail.” As I was typing it, I was just thinking to myself “I can’t believe I’m actually typing this, there’s no way I’m getting away with this!” And I didn’t. I totally got called out for it!

Anyway, this was my first real doing anything with my hair as a woman experience and I’m excited that it wasn’t a complete disaster! And, as far as I could tell, the stylist didn’t seem to pick up on me being trans at all. I mean, he might have, but he didn’t say anything to lead me to believe he did.

Yeah, I'm really liking how I look here

Yeah, I’m really liking how I look here, though I wish I could put some hairspray in to get those shorter hairs up top under control!

0

Training recap: 8/18-8/24

I actually feel like I had a decent week of running last week. I knocked out 24 miles which is the most I’ve done since the first half of July, but the most important thing is how I’m feeling. Each of my runs felt great and I’ve felt strong.

Thursday’s five-miler turned into a 10k because I just didn’t want to stop. I was feeling amazing! And Sunday’s “long” run of eight miles felt unexpectedly awesome. Sadly, it’s the longest I’ve run in over a month, but I don’t think I would have had much trouble going another mile or two.

I don’t know if I’d say I’ve fallen back in love with running just yet, but things are starting to feel good and like they could be more on track.

In non-running, I had my last day of work on Friday and a bunch of us went out afterwards to celebrate. It ended up going all night until…honestly, have no idea how late we were up. Thanks to that, I spent all of Saturday hungover on the couch and missed my run.

For some reason, EVERYONE wanted to pick me up. I kind of wanted to not be picked up, but I lost that fight. Notice my manager's hand on my boob? WTF?

For some reason, EVERYONE wanted to pick me up. I kind of wanted to not be picked up, but I lost that fight. Notice my manager’s hand on my boob? WTF?