After a brutal swim at the Half Ironman in Maine last year, I knew I’d be spending part of my off season practicing open water swimming. In the pool, I can see where I’m going, I have my own lane space, and I can put my feet down whenever I want. Open water swimming is the opposite of all that, plus I’m in a wetsuit. Mine has a lower neckline compared to other wetsuits, but it’s snug against my neck, especially when I rotate my body to be parallel to the ground to swim. I always have to remind myself that my wetsuit isn’t strangling me. (I’m really sensitive about things touching my neck.)
I
did the Splash and Dash at Tempe Town Lake a few months ago. It had four race
options:
Swim 1,000 meters, Run 5K
Swim only, 2,000 meters
Swim 2,000 meters, Run 5K
Swim only, 4,000 meters
I
suspect the real purpose of this event is to give the people doing Ironman
Arizona a few weeks later a chance to swim the length in the race (4,000 meters)
in the lake where there’ll be swimming on race day. I signed up for the 2,000-meter,
swim only.
Tempe Town Lake – Image by Dru Bloomfield – At Home in Scottsdale from Flickr (Creative Commons License) – No, I did not get poisoned or super powers from swimming in this water.
I
arrived at the lake at 6:50 a.m., checked in, and strapped my timing chip to
ankle. The air temperature was 58 degrees. The water was 63. The 2,000-meter swim
started at 7:32 a.m. They invited us to jump in a little before race time to “splash
about” and get used to water temperature. Yeah, no thanks. I was only getting
in that water once.
The
race route was a 1,000-meter rectangle. Each person did one, two, or four laps
depending on which event they signed up for. Like Maine, there were kayakers
and paddle boarders throughout the route to help any swimmer who got in
trouble. Shortly after I started swimming – 2:19 according to my Garmin – I grabbed
onto a kayak, trying not to panic. (There’s something about feeling my wetsuit
against my neck coupled with being hit by other swimmers that triggers my “fuck
this” response.)
I
told the friendly volunteer in the kayak, that I was panicking and he asked an
insightful question, “Has this happened before?” That actually helped me calm
down a bit. I took a minute to take some deep breaths and compose myself, and then
continued with the race.
Once,
I calmed down, running into other swimmers wasn’t as big of a deal. After one
collision I remember saying, “Oops, that’s your butt.” The rest of the race
felt pretty good. I worked on my spotting (trying to swim in a straight line by
aiming at landmarks). A good rule is to check your spot every 2 strokes. I was
doing it every 10, because I don’t like how spotting breaks up my cadence.
I
finished the 2,000-meter swim in 45:03, 17 minutes faster than my time at Maine
70.3. The cut-off time for the swim for the full Ironman is 2 hours, 20 minutes
(140 minutes). That’s encouraging to see that I’m on track to have a good swim
at Ironman Mont Tremblant this summer.
I
still need to work on not panicking when I first hit the water. I hope to do a
few more open water group swims before the race.
I made the decision in 2018 to keep my head shaved for a year.
My first shave was by a professional stylist, but then I bought a set a
clippers and re-shaved it ever 7-10 days. It was great in the warmer months.
Not having hair kept me much cooler. Starting in the summer of 2019, in
addition to cutting my hair with clippers, I began using a razor blade to cut
my hair as close as possible, making my head feel as smooth as a honeydew
melon.
Having no hair was super convenient. Every morning, all I had
to do was flop out of bed, and I was ready to go. I never had to deal with bed
head, and I didn’t have to pay for conditioner, styling products, or haircuts
for a year. (I washed my head stubble with a shampoo bar a few times a week.)
I’ll admit, having no hair made me feel like a badass at
time, like the embodiment of a superhero. I don’t think it made me more
aerodynamic though.
Painted Gold from Head to Toe
One of the best experiences I had while bald was being painted
by Skin City in Las Vegas.
Since I didn’t have hair, the artist was able to paint me, literally, from the
top of my head to the top of my feet (except for a pair of pasties and gold undies.
I felt like a living statue.
After the event, I put my jeans and went back to my hotel.
My friends liked watching people react to me watching around with my gold head
and torso, so I humored them by walking through the casino floor. That’s where
we learned the fun way that you can’t walk through a casino with a painted face
(which is ironic given how much makeup some people wear). Security stopped us
as I was finishing my lap around the room.
Assumptions People Made About Me
There were a few occasions when people asked if I had cancer.
One man came up to me in the parking lot of Sprouts and tried to tell me about how
carrot juice kills cancer. Every time, I responded honestly that I was just
taking a break from having hair.
As far as I know, no one assumed that I was a Neo Nazi, or
anything, though a friend said I looked a bit scary in a tank top with my no-hair.
Did I Ever Sunburn my Head?
I am grateful to whoever invented spray on sunblock. I rarely
left the house without spraying my head if it was after sunrise. I managed to
go the whole year without burning my scalp. When I went outside for longer
workouts, I wore a bandana under my helmet when I was biking and a hat when I
was running to protect my head from the sun.
Here are some of the things I learned from my year with no hair:
It’s challenging to cut your own hair around and behind your ears.
Yes, you can cut yourself with clippers. I nicked the top of my earlobe on numerous occasions.
It’s really easy to cut yourself if you use a disposable razor to shave your head.
It’s difficult to find a ballgown that goes with no-hair. The fanciness of the dress didn’t have anything to balance it out up top. I tried to find a sparkly headband, but it didn’t look right.
It was easier to present myself androgynously without hair. More people addressed me as “sir,” when I was in baggy guy clothes.
Now What?
Now I’m letting my hair grow out, going back to my previous
undercut. I’ve started to miss it. Hopefully, I’ll have enough hair to have the
style I want by this summer.
As I read
through the notes in my memory jar for 2019, I noted that a lot of my happy
memories this year involved hugs and dogs. It so cute when dogs get so excited,
they piddle. Depression and anxiety were regular companions this year, and it
shows by how empty my calendar was except for work travel and race training.
Nevertheless,
there are still things to celebrate from 2019:
Top 5 Events
1. Half Ironman Maine.
The bulk of my year was focused on training for and competing in Maine 70.3, my first Half Ironman. It was a fun, but somewhat brutal race. The swim in the freezing cold and choppy water was exhausting, and it was only the first mile of the race! I love the bike ride through the back roads of Maine. I had some choice words for Coach David when I realized that a portion of the run was on a dirt trail. It felt so good to raise my arms as I crossed the finish line, but the best part of the day was hugging Coach David after we both had finished.
Proud Coach
2. Meeting the Nibling.
I wanted to meet my nibling before she got too big, so I made a special trip across the country to spend the weekend with her. When I first walked in the door, my sister was feeding the baby. She took one look at me and started to cry. (Apparently, she’d reached the stage where she can distinguish between familiar and unfamiliar faces.) By the next morning, we were friends. I love this little creature – watching her piercing blue eyes take in the world and seeing her independent spirit whether she’s playing with her toys or crawling across the floor. I hope I’ll hear her say, “Oggy” soon.
I was awake. Baby K was working on it.
3. Snuggling with Adorabull.
Aimee’s Farm Animal Sanctuary took in a sick calf this summer. He was found in a ditch, umbilical cord still attached, and covered in mud. A good Samaritan brought him to the sanctuary. Aimee named him Adorabull. She also put out the call on Facebook asking for extra help at the farm since the sick baby needed so much attention. I spent a Saturday morning at the farm helping to tube feed him, give him his meds, and snuggle with him. I nicknamed him “Addy.” It was such a joy to see him stand up and eat some starter feed. You could see he had a fight in him, even when he was weak. He survived and is doing great at the sanctuary now.
Sweet Adorabull, aka “Addy”
4. Plastic-Free July.
One of the ways humans are destroying the planet is with single-use plastics. We use these plastic items for a matter of minutes, and then it won’t decompose of thousands of years. It makes no sense to use our fossil fuels like this. It makes me sad and angry to see how it’s wreaking havoc on marine life. I challenged myself to do avoid single use plastics for Plastic-Free July, and to find alternative products that no plastic packaging. It forced me to re-think the way I shop for food and hygiene products. Even after this month ended, I still try to avoid single-use plastics at least 90% of the time.
5. What We Left Behind– DS9 Documentary.
I love Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. It’s my favorite Star Trek series to date. It’s a Trek that focused more on relationships compared to the other series, and it how the writers created their story arcs was changed the way others wrote episodic series. I loved sitting in the theater, surrounded by my fellow Trekkies, and hearing all the behind the scenes stories about this series.
Firsts in 2019
I’ve had a lot of firsts related that came leading up to my first Half Ironman race. I got my first triathlon bike, that came with my first tri-bike fitting. That was followed with my first time riding a bike with my feet clipped to my pedals (and my first fall from my tri-bike). In physical therapy, I also had dry needling with electro-stimulation for my hips and back.
I had my first dermatologist
appointment this year for a strip-down-check-every-mole skin exam this year.
When my friends
got engaged, I thought they were going to ask me to watch their dog during the ceremony.
Instead, they asked me to be the presider.
I committed to keeping my head shaved for a year. Starting I the summer, I began taking a razor blade to my head in addition to my clippers.
When my flight
was delayed from 11pm to 7am, I spent my first night in an airport.
I was glad I was working from home the morning a neighbor asked me to give his car a jump when battery was dead.
After Shankminds in Las Vegas, I was asked to leave a casino for walking through it with a painted face (and body).
I was painted down to my feet, but I put on jeans to go back to my hotel.
I called the Cleveland
Police Department to get more information about Ohio’s decency law. They put me
on hold and took a poll around the office to decide how topless I could legally
be in public.
With my
non-binary birth certificate in hand, I attempted to get a non-binary passport
and update my social security record. Both times, a clerk on the phone told me
I could change my records, and both times, it turned out not to be true.
Rosie the basset hound is still alive and kicking, thanks in part to cold laser treatment and CBD.
My
first Half Ironman triathlon is in the books: 70.3 miles in 7 hours, 18
minutes, 25 seconds. I’ll take that.
This
race was about a year in the making, ever since I did my first sprint triathlon
last September. Less than 30 seconds into that race, I knew the Half Ironman
was next.
Getting
to Maine
Leading
up to Maine 70.3 was training – lots of
sweaty training – in the Phoenix heat. I was usually slimy with sweat by Mile 3
of a run, no matter how early I left the house. Coach David and I had to be
careful about not having me outside too long on the 110+ degree days.
I
also spent the last year dealing with a hip injury. I had to defer both my half
marathon and full marathon over the winter because my hip wouldn’t let me train
the way I needed to. Thankfully, my physical therapist is also a triathlete, so she was the perfect person to help David
and me build up my mileage and adjust my strategy to manage the pain.
Pre-Race
Prep
I
had many calls and texts with David leading up to race day. We talked about how
I was going to fuel during the race with protein powder, gels, and salt. He reviewed my
packing list to make sure I brought everything I was going to need. I even made
little lists to remind myself of what I needed to do during each transition
(swim-to-bike and bike-to-run).
I
arrived in Old Orchard Beach,
Maine
two days before the race. Our hotel was minutes away from the race expo and the
starting line. We hit the race expo first to get our race packets (timing chip,
race number, bike stickers, swim cap, etc.). I was so jittery-excited I could
barely take it all in.
That
afternoon, David took me swimming in the ocean. It had been over a year since
I’d last swam in an ocean, and it was my first time swimming in my wetsuit. We
worked on my form and cadence (which is hard to maintain in choppy water), and
he lovingly reminded me of what it’s like to swim in a race by purposely
running into me. He calls it Direct Recovery (of) Open Water Navigation (&)
Guidance (D.R.O.W.N.G). It sounds cruel, but during a triathlon, people hit and
kick you all the time during the swim. It’s better to be ready for it – because
it will happen – so it won’t freak you out during the race.
Saturday
was all about resting. I think I was the only non-Orthodox Jew in our group. It
was fun participating in my first Shabbas lunch and learning all the rules.
Since I was the “Shabbas goy” who could do “work,” I walked both David’s and my
bikes to the race transition area. He came with me and we timed how long it
took to walk from the transition area to the swim start and back to our hotel.
It
was windy on Saturday, and David and I talked about what that would mean for my
race. I shrugged and said, “I’ll still PR.”
Old Orchard Beach, Maine. This is where we went into the water. Photo by NewEnglandCoast from Flickr (Creative Commons License)
Race
Day!
Race
day morning was nerve-wracking. I was so nervous/excited as a powered down my
oatmeal, pulled my wetsuit halfway up my body, and packed my gear bag for the
race. David was cool as a cucumber as I was powerwalking to bike transition
area, afraid I wouldn’t have enough time to lay out my gear before we had to
report to the beach for the swim. (We had plenty of time.)
1.2-Mile
Swim in the Atlantic Ocean
For
the start of the race, we lined up based on when we expected to finish the swim.
Instead of going in all at once, the organizers had us going in four swimmers
at a time, each group five seconds apart.
Even
though David is a faster swimmer than me, he lined up with me so he could be
there to give me a last hug and be the proud coach to who told the announcer
that it was my first Half Ironman. We walked into the ocean together, and
within minutes we were apart, swimming our own races as we expected.
The
swim was brutal. The water was cold and choppy. I had so much adrenaline
coursing through my veins that I didn’t feel cold, but it was cold enough that
the race was “booties legal” (below 65 degrees). Even though I was wearing
goggles, I could barely see anything underwater, except the air bubbles coming
out of my mouth. I couldn’t even see the hands and feet that were coming
towards me until right before they hit me in the face. With 2,400+ racers, I got hit a lot.
The
race route was a rectangle – out, over, and back again. Throughout the route,
there were volunteers on paddle boards and kayaks where you could grab on if
you needed a minute to rest and breathe. I checked my watch when I grabbed onto
the first kayak – 4:45 into the race. I was panicking. I couldn’t find my
cadence and I it seemed like I was getting hit by the other racers every few
seconds.
There
were three other racers holding onto the kayak. We gave each other a few
encouraging words before letting go to swim on.
At
the buoy signaling the last turn for shore, I began to get pulled off course.
In my wetsuit, I was essentially a floaty on top of the water, being pulled by
the sideways current. A paddle boarding volunteer caught up with me and told me
to aim back towards to race route. I tried, but it didn’t work. I was too tired
and too light to get back to the group. Instead, I aimed for shore and walked
back when my feet hit the sand.
One
of the challenges of Ironman is you’re stuck listening to your own thoughts for
the entire race. (No earbuds or cell phones allowed.) I kept myself going with
words of encouragement using “Baby Duck,” my gymnastics
coach’s pet name for his gymnasts.
I
was so tired after the swim. I finished it in 1 hour, 2 minutes – 12 minutes
longer than I wanted – and because I got pulled so far off course, I ended up
doing 2,800 yards (including my walk back) instead of 2,100.
As
I walked back to the official swim exit, I saw two lifeguards carrying a
swimmer out of the water because they were too tired to walk. After the race, I
heard a rumor that 70 people didn’t finish either because they were too tired
or got seasick.
Transition
One: Swim-to-Bike
As
I walked over the sensor that indicated that I finished the swim, I said, “Fuck
Ironman” and flipped off the photographer getting shot of all of us coming out
of the swim. I was so tired and angry. That’s also when I finally felt how cold
I was.
At
the end of the swim, there were volunteers called “strippers” who peeled off
our wetsuits. As I walked up to them, I said, “Who wants to touch me?” Two
women held up their hands to help me. They pulled off my wetsuit and handed it
to me to carry back to the bike transition.
Once
I got to my bike, I pulled off my swim
cap and googles, sprayed down with sunblock, put on my socks, bike shoes,
bandana, helmet, and sunglasses, and I was off again.
56-Mile Bike Ride
The
bike ride took us through the back roads of many towns in the area. I loved
that this bike route was a single loop rather than several laps on a smaller
loop.
Near
the beginning of the ride, I saw a street called Ruth Way. I smiled and
thought, “My race. My way.”
This
area of Maine is gorgeous – lots of houses with barn stars (for good luck), cows, big trees, and open
pastures. The route had rolling hills, and only a few were brutal. It was much
nicer than city riding.
Throughout
the ride, I found people to pace with – we learned each other’s names and said
hello as we passed each other. I was pleased to see that I frequently passed
people, especially on the hills. As I climbed each hill, I muttered, “We train
on hills because we race on hills.” It felt gratifying to pass other people in
my division. (The organizers write your age on the back of your left calf in
black marker before the beginning of the race.)
There
were three aid stations along the ride that had bananas, water, and Gatorade. I
came to a full stop at each one to have a banana and switch out my Gatorade
bottle. I was like a Minion, smiling, and saying, “Mmm, banana” each time. Most
of the other racers near me could grab and consume these without falling. I
wasn’t that skilled yet.
Based
on our training rides, I knew there was a chance I’d catch up to David during
the bike. I passed him at Mile 36. He was unmistakable with his tzitzit and his neon yellow “Do Epic Shit” socks. I was impressed when
he passed me just before the end of the ride. We finished with only two riders
between us.
My race medal. I earned this thing.
Transition
Two: Bike-to-Run
I
made sure I did three things before I headed out for the run:
My shoes were tied the way I like them.
I sprayed my skin with sunblock again.
I put on my hat.
Even
though we were in Maine, I didn’t want to finish the race looking like a
lobster.
David
is much faster in the transitions than I am. (He’s done 6 Ironman and more than
20 Half Ironman races.) By the time I got out on the run, he was already about
three minutes ahead of me.
13.1-Mile
Run
I
felt better than I expected during the run. I’ve heard that some racers have to
walk the first part of the run until they get their “legs back.” I could run
from my first step. I wasn’t fast, but I was running. Actually, I was surprised
by how many people I passed during the run portion.
The
race organizers had aid stations every 1 to 1.5 miles along the route with
Gatorade, water, Coke, bananas, oranges, and pretzels. I stayed hydrated with
Gatorade, treated myself to Coke twice, and gave myself hits of salt from a race
vial that I was carrying with me.
About
a third of the run was on a nature trail. Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t like trail
running.
I’m clumsy enough without outside help. I caught up with David around Mile 4,
while we were on the trail. As I approached him, I said, “Fuck you, David,” and
he responded, “That’s my athlete.” He “forgot” to tell me that part of the race
was on dirt. I passed him and kept going. (He and I have a running joke about
cursing his name.)
My
strategy for the run was to alternate between running and walking. I started
with run 9 minutes/walk 1 minute. At minute 58 of my run, my hip started to
hurt, so I shifted to run 6/walk 1.
I
hung out in the finish line area, knowing David wasn’t far behind me. He
crossed the finish line five minutes after me and gave me a big hug. He was
beaming with coach pride.
Athlete and Proud Coach
Post-Race
It
felt so good to step into a hot shower after the race. I was covered in salt,
sweat, and sunblock.
The
next morning, I flew home to Phoenix. I was tired and sore, but thankfully, the
pain was nothing like I feared.
So
many thanks to Ironman, the volunteers, everyone who cheered along the race
route, all my loved ones who supported me in this journey, and especially Coach
David and his family. I couldn’t have done this without you.
I am non-binary, meaning I’m
not a man or a woman. When people used to ask me what my pronouns are, I
used to say I don’t care as long as you’re being respectful. I was fine with “he,”
“she” or “they.”
Now I realize that I didn’t care as long as you knew
that I’m non-binary. It’s important to me that people know that I’m not a
cisgender female, which is what most strangers assume I am. Being misgendered
is one of the things I despise. Because of this, and to raise awareness that
non-binary people exist, I decided that my pronouns are they/them.
(In case you didn’t know, cisgender person is someone
who is the gender they were assigned at birth. The prefix “cis-” means “same.”
The prefix “trans-” means opposite.)
Content Marketing World 2018
It’s OK If You Make Mistakes
Changing how you refer to me may be an adjustment.
It’s ok if you make mistakes and occasionally trip over your pronouns. (I
occasionally do this with others’ pronouns.) Just correct yourself and move on.
And if you hear someone refer to me as she/her, please correct them.
I expect most people are going to make mistakes most
of the time. I have a friend who is the parent of a non-binary child who uses
they/them pronouns. She still makes mistakes, and she’s had years of practice.
It’s “They Are,” Not “They Is”
A friend asked about how the grammar works when using
“they” to refer to a single person. In English class, we were taught to say, “he/she
is” for an individuals and “they are” for two more people. My friend asked if she
should say “they is” or “they are” when talking about me, and it’s still “they
are.” When you use “they” to talk about an individual, it’s the same as if you
were speaking about a person of unknown gender:
When are they coming over?
Someone lost their keys.
Who put pants on the naked statue? High five for them!
According to Merriam-Webster, “they” has been used as
a singular
pronoun since the 1300s. It’s become more commonly used with increased
awareness of non-binary and intersex people. (“Intersex” is the term used for
people who used to be called hermaphrodites.)
Telling the Office
Until now, all my email signatures said, “Pronouns:
He/She/They.” I updated those to say “Pronouns: They/Them” as well as my
LinkedIn profile. The next step was to inform my officemates. I sent out a note
to everyone in the building, letting them know about my pronouns. No one cares
that I’m non-binary and pansexual, so I knew this would be a non-issue as well.
I did get a few unexpected responses:
One person asked what “cisgender” meant and asked about the proper phrasing when referring potential clients to me – changing from “I think she can help you,” to “I think they can help you.”
Another officemate suggested that I consider using a non-binary nickname since Ruth is such a feminine name. I’m already established as Ruth Carter, and I don’t want a different name. If Dana, Kelly, and Ashley can be gender neutral names, so can Ruth. There’s at least one instance in literature where Ruth is the name of a male character.
Someone asked why I don’t use “he/she” since “he” and “she” refer to an individual. I responded, “Because I’m not a man or a woman.”
Hawksbill Turtle by Tchami from Flickr (Creative Commons License)
I’ve
just about made to the end of Plastic-Free July: 31 days of avoiding
single-use plastics. This isn’t really the end, but rather the beginning of
being more conscientious about what and how I’m consuming.
Plastic
comes from oil and natural gas. It doesn’t make sense that we take fossil fuels
which take millions of years to create, and then use them to create products
that we’re going to use for only a few minutes and then shortly thereafter, to
a landfill where they’ll sit for thousands of years.
To
be clear, I’m not against all plastic – just single-use plastics, the ones that
are designed to be used once and thrown away – like shopping bags, product packaging,
cups, and bottles.
Plastic-Free
July: How’d It Go
I
was not able to avoid all single-use plastics this month. My dog Rosie is, as always, exempt from my
shenanigans, and there were a few times when I couldn’t find a plastic-free
option for what I needed. I made my own toothpaste, but it didn’t agree with
me, so I brought home my tube of regular toothpaste that was still at the
office from when I did Invisalign. I have yet to find a soy-free vegan protein
powder
in a bulk food section, so I have to keep buying that in plastic tubs. I did,
however, cut back on how frequently I have it to only the days I have a long
bike ride or a long run. (I can reuse the tubs at the bulk bins in the future
or donate them to Ecomended.)
The
hardest thing to give up during Plastic-Free July was frozen foods, especially
frozen veggies. One of my go-to meals has been canned beans, rice or quinoa,
and frozen veggies – mixed and microwaved. I have not found a store that sells
fresh peas, and frozen ones taste so much better than canned.
I
heard good news this month about WinCo. It’s a grocery store
with the most extensive and diverse bulk food bins in the Phoenix area, but you
can’t bring your own jars. Thankfully, according to people who claim they’ve
done it, you can bring your own bags. I haven’t had pasta all month because I
can’t find a brand that doesn’t have some plastic in its packaging, but now I
have a source. (They have bulk cold cereal too.)
Inspired
by Plastic-Free July
Every
time I don’t buy plastic, I feel like I’m saving a turtle. I feel happy every
time I feel like I’m doing something to help the planet.
Doing
Plastic-Free July inspired me to make little changes, like visit the refillery
and look up recipes to make my own cleaning supplies. Last weekend, for the
first time, I got Rosie’s chicken from the butcher counter wrapped in paper
instead of the cellophane-wrapped Styrofoam. It’s the same meat, and the same
price; it just took a few extra minutes to get it plastic-free. I’ll wait a few
minutes to save a turtle. (I’m vegan. My dog is not.)
Speaking
of Rosie, her Milkbones come in a box, with no
inner plastic bag. Why can’t more human foods be packaged in a similar way,
like crackers, pasta, and cereal? I shook many boxes this month, hoping to find
a box with no internal plastic, but no luck.
What’s
Next?
Yes,
I plan to continue to avoid single-use plastics when I can. Our problems with
climate change aren’t getting better, and we’re on track to have more plastic than fish
in the ocean by 2050.
I
want to continue to try new things, and create little challenges for myself:
Find an ice cream shop that has good vegan ice cream or sorbet that comes in a vegan cone/waffle bowl.
Find a brand of 100% cotton yarn to use to make baby blankets instead of the acrylic stuff I usually use.
Find a dry cleaner that will let patrons bring a garment bag for their clothes so they don’t have to go in plastic (bonus if we can supply our own hangers). I also messaged Rareform, which reuses billboards to make bags, and told them that I hope they make garment bags in the future. I don’t currently have a garment bag.
I
plan to keep asking questions. I will ask companies that only sell their
products in plastic if they’ll take back plastic container and reuse it. I will
tell companies whose products I don’t use anymore that I left them for their
plastic-free competition.
I
want to keep learning. I want to know what chemicals are banned in other
countries because they haven’t been deemed to be safe. (In the U.S., a chemical
is safe until proven otherwise.)
Trying
Plastic-Free Living on the Road
I’m
attending a conference in a few weeks. I will call my hotel in advance and ask
if the little plastic bottles of shampoo and lotion are refilled from an
in-house refillery between guests. I want to use these amenities only if
they’re not going to be thrown out if I do.
The
conference I’m attending is excellent at accommodating attendees’ dietary
needs. They regularly give me a special meal since I’m a low-soy vegan. This
time around, I also ask for no plasticware (I bring my own metal travel spork),
no single-use plastics (no single serving packages of chips or cookies), no
food that’s cooked in plastic, and no foods that come in packaging that
contains bisphenol A (BPA), phthalates, or plastics #3 or #7. (We’ve only had
these things as we use them today since the 1960s or 70s.)
When
I sent in the dietary update, my contact asked the obvious question: “What do
you eat?” There are still a lot of foods I can have like beans, rice, lentils, nuts,
fruit, veggies, bread, pasta, oatmeal, etc. I’m a big fan of PBJs and burrito
bowls. I told her to tell the caterers (who I’ve been told appreciate a
challenge) to think what they’d give an 8-year-old and just double the portion.
If
You Want to Learn More
If
you want to learn more about plastic and how to reduce the amount of single-use
plastics in your life, I recommend you start by watching the documentary, “Bag
It.”
It
features an everyday guy who started asking questions about plastic bags, which
led to questions about single-use plastics in general. It came out in 2010, so
some of the information may have changed, but from what I can tell, not much. I
watched it several times during the last month.
Last weekend, as part of Plastic-Free July, I visited Ecomended – a shop in Tempe that sells zero-waste and eco-friendly items. I wanted to check out the refillery before going there to make my first purchase.
What’s
a Refillery?
A
refillery is a similar to the idea of bulk bins, except for household items
like laundry detergent, dish soap, hand soap, toothpaste powder, and lotion.
You can purchase an empty glass jar there or bring your own container. (They
don’t care if you bring a plastic container.)
You
take your container, tare it on the scale, fill it with the product you need,
and pay for it. In the future, when my hand soap dispensers are almost empty,
instead of buying a big plastic refill bottle of soap, I can take my near-empty
dispensers to Ecomended and top my dispensers off with their hand soap. Since I
can tare my containers, I’ll only be paying for the soap I buy.
They
also have a soap in the refillery that you can use to clean your home and
yourself. I want to try it!
Ecomended
also has a box labeled “Please
Reuse Box” where people can leave their clean empty jars and other
containers that they won’t use again, for other patrons to take and use, so
they don’t have to buy a jar if they didn’t bring a container.
Other
Plastic-Free Products
Besides
the refillery, Ecomended has
an assortment of other planet-friendly products, including reusable diapers and
menstrual pads, reusable sandwich bags, plastic-free adhesive bandages, all-metal
razors and blades, plastic-free dental floss, and beeswax wraps. I was pleased
to see that they carry products by Rareform,
which makes bags from repurposed billboards (so each one is unique), and Tree Tribe,
which makes vegan wallets and other products from teak.
I’m so happy that my friend, Liesl, told me about this shop. I’d much rather buy zero-waste and plastic-free goods locally than online.
Ecomended is located at 115 East Baseline Road, Tempe, AZ 85283.
I’m just over one week into Plastic-Free July. One thing I’ve noticed so far is that it’s forcing me to eat quite healthily. Most of the junk food I like isn’t available this month. Even in the last few weeks leading up to July, I cut way back on buying foods that come in plastic packaging.
What I’m Not Eating
It’s amazing how many foods I can’t have this month. When I
glance around the grocery store, it seems like 90% is food I can’t eat because
it comes in plastic. Most breads come in plastic bags. Cold cereal and crackers
come in boxes, but within the box, there’s a plastic bag. I have yet to find a
brand of pasta that does not have the plastic covered window in the box. If I
want pasta, I should find a restaurant that makes their own and doesn’t use
egg.
When I’m craving junk food, I can’t stop at the grocery store
for a pint of vegan ice cream or a vegan cupcake. I can’t event treat myself to
a single serving bag of Fritos at the office. There’s no candy, or even gum, because
it all comes in or with plastic. (There are brands of plastic-free gum, but not
by the checkout at the supermarket.) If I want ice cream, I can go to an ice
cream parlor for sorbet or vegan ice cream and get it in a vegan cone, not a
cup. If I want a cookie, there are a few places in town that will sell you a
single vegan cookie, or I have to make my own.
I have notice that I have to be more mindful about planning
my meals this month because I can’t have any pre-made frozen or shelf-sable
meals. This means no gyoza, burritos, or vegan patties from the frozen section,
and no mac ‘n’ cheese, Thai food, or Indian food that comes in microwaveable
pouches or with plastic wrap, envelopes, or bags.
It also means I can use frozen vegetables, which used to be
a staple in my diet. I used to have them at least once, if not twice a day. My
freezer used to be filled with bags of fruits and veggies.
What I Am Eating
My rule for Plastic-Free July is that I’m allowed to eat
anything that comes in plastic that was in the house when the month started.
So, I can have protein powder, coffee, and the bit of frozen fruit and veggies that
are in the house.
Most of my food these days comes from the produce section
and the bulk bins. I picked up a lot of fresh fruits and veggies this past week,
using my reusable mesh produce bags. From the bulk bins, I make sure I always
have oatmeal, lentils, rice, and quinoa in the house – also using reusable containers.
That’s also where I get raisins, sugar, pumpkin seeds, and corn nuts. My store
also has bulk bins for bread, so I was able to pick up some bagels and wheat
rolls last week.
I have dry beans in the house, but it’s been so hot lately,
I don’t want to heat the house cooking them. Instead, I stocked up on beans in cans
that don’t have BPA in the lining. My go-to meal in a pinch is rice, beans, and
a vegetable, topped with a little salt, pepper, and vegan butter. I can also go
into the store aisles for canned tomatoes, olives, and pineapple; and peanut
butter, jam, oil, pickles, vegetable broth base, and condiments in glass.
Make my own oat milk and vegan butter, so I don’t have to
buy them in plastic containers. I recently discovered a recipe for chickpea
salad sandwiches, which is delicious. I may try to make my own vegan patties
this month since I can’t buy the frozen ones.
I also plan to visit the farmer’s market this month to see
what’s grown locally that’s in season. That’s probably the only place I might
find plastic-free berries this month. Maybe I’ll find a vendor who sells pasta
without plastic packaging.
I am doing Plastic-Free
July this year. The goal is to avoid using single-use plastics. This event
was started in Western Australia in 2011. According to their website, they’ve
had over 120 million participants in 177 countries take part to date.
Every time I forego a plastic option, I feel like I’m saving a turtle. “Turtle Canyon” by David W. Siu from Flickr (Creative Commons License)
These are the rules I’ve set for myself:
It’s ok to use the single-use plastics that I already own.
(No, I did not stock up heading into this month.) You will still see me using lip
balm, flossers, and cleaning supplies that come in plastic. I figured since I already
purchased them, they’re destined to go to landfill whenever I get rid of them,
so I might as well use them for their intended purpose so as not to be
wasteful. I have a few plastic shopping bags under the sink, but I want to try
some alternatives to plastic waste bin liners.
When I shop, I will use my reusable produce bags and tote
bags, or not use a bag at all. (I love when stores give you a token for not
taking a bag, and in turn, you put to the token in the bucket for a charity,
where each token will be five cents that the store donates.)
No purchasing produce that comes in plastic – like
cauliflower, salad greens, and baby carrots. Many stores sell grapes, and cherries
in plastic bags. For those, I’ve been taking a little from multiple bags and
putting them in my reusable bag. So far, no one’s looked at me strangely when I’ve
done it. (They’re not pre-weighed out, so it doesn’t hurt anyone.) I’ll probably
have to buy less produce per visit and go twice a week instead of just once to
make sure nothing goes bad.
Check out the farmers market.
Don’t buy packaged foods that come in plastic. This includes
all frozen foods, chips, crackers and cereal that have plastic bags in the box,
peanut butter in plastic jars, vegan butter, and bread. Instead, I’ll buy
things that come in paper, glass, and metal cans that don’t have a BPA liner.
Hit the bulk bins for staples like rice, oatmeal, lentils, and
raisins. I re-use plastic bags and bring my own jars for bulk foods. Since I
can’t have office snacks that come in plastic, I’ll also get vegan snacks from
the bins. I was pleased and relieved to find bread loaves, rolls, and bagels that
don’t come in plastic.
Buy vitamins in glass jars.
Drink water from the tap, not the bottled water service at
the office. (The delivery person also brings La Croix in cans. I can have that
if I want.) I have a reusable water bottle with me most of the time.
Always refuse plastic straws. I’ll carry my metal travel mug
and foldable spork with me as needed.
If no plastic-free option is available, then shift to
lower-plastic option if possible. For example, my deodorant comes in a glass
jar but has a plastic lid. It’s better than buying an all-plastic version. I buy
sunscreen in a metal can with a plastic dispenser, which is better than an
all-plastic tube.
Try to avoid using paper products if I know plastic is
involved. I keep a hand towel in my desk at work to use a napkin and potholder
for my lunch. This month, I’ll also take it with me to the bathroom since paper
towels come in plastic.
As always, Rosie is exempt from my shenanigans. Though, I’m happy to report that I found a butcher shop that says they wrap all their meats from the display case in paper, so I can get her chicken sans plastic. (Yay!)
I’m six days into Plastic-Free July, and so far, so good.
There have only been a few instances where something I wanted didn’t have a
plastic-free alternative, and a handful of times I’ve had to walk back to my
desk with wet hands because I forgot to bring my towel with me to the bathroom.
I’m speaking to a group
of lawyers this week about being non-binary. Since I’m always me, I asked
my Facebook friends to tell me what question they have or have had about my
non-binary experience or non-binary people in general to help me prepare.
One friend sent me a direct message and respectfully asked,
“Why is a non-binary identity important to you? Why does it matter?” She went
on to say that my name, gender, or pronouns wouldn’t change our relationship.
(My friends know that I welcome all sincere questions. If they’re trying to be
respectful and inadvertently say something wrong, I will not be offended.) It’s
a valid question, and one that does not surprise me coming from a person I know
to a cisgender heterosexual.
Photo by Scotty Myers Photography
Non-Binary People Exist
Being non-binary matters as much as it matters to be any
other gender. Unlike men and women, I live in a society that often doesn’t
acknowledge that I exist. Whenever I need to use a public bathroom or fill out
a form and there are only male/female options, the message I hear is that
people like me don’t deserve the same acknowledgment as men and women, that
they don’t believe I exist, or that I don’t matter.
When there are only male and female facilities available, if
I’m not welcome to use either option, then I’m not comfortable using any of them.
Earlier this year, I attended a conference where there were only men’s and
women’s bathrooms. I didn’t want the organizers to have to deal with an
uncomfortable situation of someone complaining that I was in the men’s room, so
we agreed that I’d use the bathroom in my hotel room. (The conference was in
the same hotel where I was staying.) This worked fine until the last day, when
I’d checked out of my room. I felt like an imposter using the women’s room when
I needed it.
I live in a society that doesn’t even have terminology for
non-binary people. There is no gender-neutral term for “sir” or “ma’am,” though
I’m in favor of adoption “pe’n,”
short for “person.” Most people don’t know that the non-binary alternative to
Mr./Ms. is Mx. (pronounced “mix”). When my sister got pregnant, I had to pick
my own title since there is no gender-neutral term for “aunt” or “uncle.” (This
is a common question in the Non-Binary Gender Pride Facebook group, also what
do you call a non-binary parent, significant other, spouse, or child.) My sweet
nibling has aunts, uncles, guncles (gay uncles – they picked their title too),
and an oggy (me). (“Oggy” rhymes with “doggy.”)
I’m Legally Non-Binary – and Still Not Recognized
I have a non-binary birth
certificate. (Thank you, California!) I am legally recognized as being
neither male nor female, and yet, I
can’t get a driver’s license in Arizona that reflects this. The State
Department will not issue me a non-binary passport. The State Department won’t
even issue one to Dana
Zzyym, an intersex person, even though it’s been court-ordered to do so. When
I travel, I bring my passport and my birth certificate in case I have to
explain why some of my tickets says non-binary and some say male or female –
because not all airlines have the non-binary gender option, but I should be
able to use it since I’m legally non-binary.
In most places, I can’t even walk down the street on a hot
day with my shirt off like my male counterparts without the risk of getting a
ticket for indecent exposure, even in California. (Arizona law says “female
areolas” must
be covered. I don’t think a judge would throw the case out if I went in
with my birth certificate that proves I’m not female, and thus, I can’t be in
violation of this law.) Thankfully, MeUndies
hooked me up with a nude
bralette so I can at least give the illusion of toplessness at a distance.
I could also wear my nude
chest binder, but I tend to overheat in that thing.
Men and women in the U.S. have never had to fight just to
say they exist. Women have to fight for equality, but they’ve never had to
fight to be recognized as different from men. In regard to legal rights, my
friend’s question made me think:
Why was it important for blacks to be counted a whole person and not 3/5 of a person?
Non-binary people are different than men and women. We often
live in societies that only recognize males and females – socially and
culturally. When I realized that I was
non-binary, something clicked into place. Up until then, I thought I was
just a weird girl. I didn’t understand why the other girls and women seemed so
different than me. When I realized that I’m non-binary, it made sense why I
felt like I was so different than the other girls I grew up with – because I
am! And even though we’re different, and live in a binary-centric society, we
still deserve the same rights and freedoms as everyone else, and to be
acknowledged for who we are.
I guess that’s why being non-binary matters to me. I want to be seen as who and what I am.
I am a licensed attorney in the State of Arizona; however, this blog should only be used for informational and entertainment purposes. It does not constitute legal advice, and it does not create an attorney-client relationship with anyone. If you need an attorney, hire one.
