Cindy Present | Get Out Girl

This past Monday was our 7th year to paddle 21 miles in The Flatwater Foundation's Dam That Cancer event. 48 hours later I was on a plane to Denver for our First Annual 10 mile Kristin McLain's Get Out Girl PaddleJam in Frisco, Colorado. PaddleJam benefits The Flatwater Foundation as well as Foundation 1023, a nonprofit we began this year to parallel what Flatwater does, but providing similar benefits and services for First Responders who are dealing with illness, stress or loss. Both of these nonprofits are near and dear to my heart as they help people find positive mindset to deal with the difficult times that come our way of which we have absolutely no control. As a very active, outdoors girl, physical health is of constant topic in my career, household, and client base. However, what I know after personally training and competing in many Ironman, endurance paddle, run and cycling events as well as coaching many individuals in the same activities, the difference between ...

I was teaching a TRX class of "transient" clients today, people I only get to teach a single class to while they are on vacation. I asked a woman to squat a little deeper, challenge herself a little more. By looking at her, she was average height, weight, cute little $$ workout outfit, matching shoes, coiffed hair. But as soon as I asked her to get out of her box and challenge the depth of her squat, before I could get the words out of my mouth, she said that "fingernails on the chalkboard", debilitating four letter word, "I can't". And she then followed it with, "I will never get back up." Can't. Never. Ouch. I knew I would probably not see this lady again - or at least in the next six months. But there was so much I wanted to tell her that she said that was setting the stage for the second half of her life in two very short statements.  "I can't." Well, yes, actually, you can. Your arms are connected to two straps ...

My clients, friends and family know there's one word that gets under my skin more than any others: "can't". I should have been counting, but over the past 2 1/2 years in any training groups I have coached, if I heard that sneaky little word, as a team, we have all done 50 push ups as a reminder of how we use our words. I kid you not, we have done thousands of push ups during that time, hundreds in certain workouts. I'm a believer of mind over matter. What you tell your mind your body will live out. "I can't do 50 push ups." "I can't reach down to tie my shoe." "I can't keep from drinking diet coke." "I can't run 1 mile." When I hear the "c" word, I literally cringe because I know that the user is debilitating themselves with one little four letter, contracted word: "can't". Ouch. My mom is 85. In a conversation with her yesterday, I bet she said "can't...

My parents are now in their mid-80's. It is so odd for me to think of my parents nearing the last chapters of their lives. To me, my timeless memories of my dad will always be racing me on horseback up canyon walls that had my stirrups dragging the ground and my face buried in my horses main we were at such a steep angle; him pushing me down so I'd have to get back up to win a sprint across the yard with him; building a backstop so he could teach us how to connect with a baseball; and always telling me "If you're not falling, you're not learning." My lifelong mom memories are of her nurturing us and our friends - weekend after weekend, feeding us almost every other hour when we'd come in off the lake "starving"; always making sure the fridge was stocked to host the revolving door of lake friends that would come over; and then when my kids were born, having never-ending energy to be the first one up and over at the house checking in on what th...

Friday I read an amazing article about the  Marathon Monks.  (and will definitely be getting the book by John Stevens, The Marathon Monks of Mount Hiei.)   If you haven't heard of these monks, I'm quite certain there is no comparison of any individual "endurance athlete" I've ever heard of. These Buddhist Monks of Japans push the boundaries of endurance limits in search of a higher plane of spirituality. And after five full Ironman events, I can definitely say that 140.6 can become quite "spiritual" - I cannot even fathom the level of spirituality that this would send you into :) Here is the 7 year commitment they make: 1st year: 100 consecutive days of 26.2-mile marathons, beginning at 1:30 a.m., each day after an hour of prayer 2nd year: 100 consecutive days of 26.2 mile marathons 3rd year: 100 consecutive days of 26.2 mile marathons 4th year: 100 consecutive days of 26.2 mile marathons - performed twice 5th year: 100 consecutive d...

After I finished the Ironman World Championships in Kona, I went on the search for the "next" endeavor. As much as I love triathlon, if I kept training 20-25 hours a week swim/bike/run, I knew I'd NEVER get the opportunity for other experiences.  That's when I came across The SUP 11 City Challenge in the Netherlands, ranked one of the top, toughest endurance events in the world. Eleven cities, five days, 220k. Hmmm....what if we created a team and as Ambassadors made this the ultimate paddle event for The Flatwater Foundation, while raising funds, creating mission and brand awareness in the US for Flatwater, and doing what many of us love? Sounded awesome to me. Fast Forward to two weeks ago when Mark and Chelsea at Flatwater invited a group of us to create a Flatwater Ambassador Team for the Ultimate SUPporter Challenge to travel to the Netherlands. An amazing opportunity to spend the next 10 months promoting, paddling, and raising $10,000 per team member for...

Today - 25 years Ago. Kona Oct. 2013 May 13, 1989. Yup. The day we were married. River Place Country Club. Only a club and golf course back then. No houses. One road. I think that was one of the last big rainstorms we had, too - aside from last night! Well, actually, one of the last most memorable storms. My dad forgot his bow tie-thingy (not really a bow tie, but a western version of that). He left the country club about an hour prior to the start of the wedding and 30 minutes after the wedding was supposed to start hadn't shown back up. The creeks were rising, the canyons flooding, and large softball size hail was falling from the sky. Dad was late - but not too late to have put one of the super-sized hail balls in the freezer for proof as to why a room full of people were anxiously awaiting his arrival. It was a "turd floater" as we call that kind of storm here in Texas. But right when we decided to go ahead and start the wedding (because everyone was running la...