new beginnings

stress- a state of mental or emotional strain or tension resulting from adverse or very demanding circumstances.

what defines a demanding circumstance?  a life changing event? a decision?  committing to something or someone?

in the past ten days i've realized that perhaps life could potentially be comprised of one big stress or it might be defined as events or circumstances, as the true definition dictates,  that change us, make us better or sometimes worse people.   i've moved a lot (A LOT)  yet with every move i swear i will never move again and then i realize most times i'm not really in control someone else is, someone who potentially has a bigger plan, a better plan then i once thought for myself.   with every move i learn something a little more, i leave behind a few memories, prepare myself for a new direction and what is ahead.  

i've come to really like salt lake city, there are more pros than cons.  more mountains then celebrities, more room to grow and explore.   

so yes, packing and unpacking and loading and unloading can be a stressful act it can also be a time to reflect on the past and move forward with new beginnings.  

so once again i set out on new path, a new direction and i'm more excited then ever.  i'm finally going to just let go and let God. 

missing piece

“I think you are the one I have been waiting for,” said the missing piece. “Maybe I am your missing piece.”

“But I am not missing a piece,” said the Big O. “There is no place you would fit.”

“That is too bad,” said the missing piece. “I was hoping that perhaps I could roll with you…”

“You cannot roll with me,” said the Big O, “but perhaps you can roll by yourself.”

one of my favorite shel silversteins poems is the missing piece,  it seems we all have a place to 'fit' within ourselves.

we visited bryce canyon this weekend for a weekend of non stop adventure.  i had never been and i realized that i never fully took advantage of the landscape california had to offer.  it was hard for me to venture out when all i ever knew was changing for the sake of changing.  now with a 50 miler on my calendar i am thrilled to recognize that this missing piece is going to finish.

in bryce we started with a nice waterfall hike that had more laughs then it did physical conditioning.   and over the years i've realized just how important that piece of the training is.  i raced with spite for so long i forgot what relaxation  and simply enjoying the ride felt like.  

i have moved a lot in life and just tonight my mom said to me "can't you just find something permanent for once?'   i laughed, because i've come to discover that permanent and i don't mix.  we just don't. period.

we ran bryce,15 miles worth uphill, through the snow,  i met up with that anxiety along the way and discovered it doesn't have that much a hold of me as i thought.  my poor friend ashlan, seems to always be right with me when i'm having these 'freak outs' (for lack of a better term)  and every time she just says "you will be fine" and that is enough to get me over the damn mountain pass.

i've heard in the past, that if you face your fears they will go away or possibly dissipate.  they don't.   the reality of the situation is you change as a result of your fears.  so the fear itself does not go away

sometimes you might give up and sometimes, just sometimes you might find that missing piece...... in yourself.

the hill we climb

its been a while since the last post and i've missed writing.  the computer was in the shop and in a way so was i.

as many know, i tend to be a bit of a nomad in the softest sense of the word and these days have been no exception to that rule.  i am back in salt lake and i can't imagine not being this close to the mountains.  just driving back up here several months ago i was overcome with dare i say, happiness?

as for training, that too went on a bit of a hiatus, much like my blogging but i am pleased to say i am back at it.  a different challenge this time, as i've finally accepted that the road bike and i don't get a long for periods much longer than an hour.  so i took to the trails and found my soul.   

now road running, biking anything seems a distance past, much like the sport of triathlon, at least in the typical sense.   i registered myself for a 50 miler in september in the mountains.  elevation and a lot of climbing, this will not be easy.   my 'racing' if that is what we are calling it has turned from 'for everyone else' and back to me.   i used to wonder how i spent that many hours on the bike, in the pool, on the road thinking and contemplating my next move, digging from the anger within.   i don't think the anger is gone.   it has just dissipated or taken on a new role.   when i'm running in the mountains its almost like it never existed,  that rock finally being lifted.   

don't get me wrong there are many other 'rocks' in the way but i've learned to accept them as added weight instead of trying to push them up the mountain alone.   

so the journey continues, in utah, in the mountains and most importantly, with myself.     

Oh Captain, My Captain

Public events of mass notary often unearth feelings in others that were dormant for many years. 

Robin Williams was one for me.   It is said that the magnitude of an event is often judged by how much a person can humanly or personally relate to the tragedy.   Mental illness has made the headlines more this past week prompting blog posts, news stories and even horrific postings to relatives twitter accounts, robbins daughter had to take down her profile due to malicious postings with photo shopped pictures of the suicide to comments of  selfishness of her father to commit such an act.   Which brought us all to stand on a soapbox for mental health awareness.  We should be more excepting; we should change the taboo, we as a society need to take off the blinders.  

Mental health is a broad term, one might argue that the same people posting these horrible comments and pictures to a daughters social media account might also suffer from ‘mental illness’ not depression per se, but if these individuals aren’t a little shitty in the head than I don’t really have another excuse.  My point is this; mental illness will most likely never be ‘accepted’ in our society for this very reason.   We don’t get to cherry pick what mental illness we want to support, we don’t get to be angry at loved ones we have lost if that mental illness doesn’t fall into the empathy category.   You see the idea of acceptance is finite.  

I say these things as a human being. i can say these things because I am human and have been slowly educated and advised that depression is wrong, it is crazy and that you should easily be able to snap out of it.   Anyone can write a blog post, mental struggle or not but do you really accept it?    Do you really accept the fact that your daughter, son, sister, brother, mother, father tried to take their life because they were ill?  Chances are probably not.   And yes, society will dictate that, society will judge because that is what we are programmed to do.  

One point that can change is the compassion we have for others.   There have been countless studies and algorithms created on happiness and what defines a person to be happy.   Money is very low, if even existent on that list.   Robin Williams had money, lots of it and after watching the countless videos and clips; I would agree he was in fact a genius.  I don’t think sad is a good emotion to tagline him with though, and in my opinion I think that is where the empathy comes from on some (not all) mental illnesses.  As much as we are wired to be angry, we are wired to ‘feel badly’ for individuals that at face value seem to be ‘sad’.   Depression is sad, to others.    But more importantly and mostly misunderstood is depression is helplessness and inability to decipher between any emotion outside of it.  Including sadness. 

Robin Williams was probably very happy up on stage, a genius he was indeed.  He was also probably very lonely.   One of my favorite movie lines is that of into the wild when at the end of this journey he discovers that happiness is best when shared with others, for depression, its hard almost impossible to make that delineation and when one can’t the unspeakable occurs.  

It is an illness, a very serious illness, and for many its something unfortunately many of us can relate to, but will it be accepted?  Probably not.    All I can ask as a human in the world of millions that we not judge so harshly onto others.  

RIP my captain.  

SLC half race report

i had just finished oceanside 70.3 with a tough run so i didn't totally go into this one unprepared
, which is not typical.   i wasn't sure how i would do but i also didn't anticipate old age to kick in either. it did.   so for all my 20 something friends who don't train and have the occasional glass... ahem bottle of wine it will kick in eventually, about when you are 36 to be exact.

i was slightly more grumpy at the race start, some call it my "game face"  but truth be told i wanted to kick major ass and thought maybe i could, until i hit the starting line.   i cleared the 8:00 minute mile pace line up, scared to go up any further and cameron was by my side.   we ran together for what i thought was half the race which he later clued me in on was actually the first few miles.   i couldn't find anyone in front of me to get my motivation with and so i just ran.  and it hurt.  i finally found a group of three that i killed up the hills (i might be the only lunatic that races better uphill)  i couldn't tell if they were half or full contenders but i knew they were MY contenders.   i gathered my thoughts at mile 7, the knee started hurting (enter old age) and the race began.

a half marathon to most is a huge accomplishment, as it should be.  and at one point it was for me too.  but this time it was about kicking ass and taking names.  i did neither.  but i still had fun.  somewhere along the ride i learned to have fun and so the only comment i had at the finish line was "i'm so proud of my amazing boyfriend for kicking ass and taking names for me on his first half"  and "that course was beautiful"  so it wasn't a PR but i'm racing again in happiness and no longer in anger and that in and of itself is an accomplishment worth writing about.

Oceanside 70.3 Race Report

i traveled back to the homeland once again to complete a triathlon as a non resident.  not sure why i have to always go the difficult route and race once i move to an new state entirely.   i flew down on thursday morning and was like a small child at Christmas in the california sun.  that sun is different then utah sun, it just makes you happy.  until of course you hop on the 405 and the mid day traffic quickly reminds you why God made that place sunny all the time.   i was happy to have a day to visit old friends, walk along the strand and do some drive bys of the 8 places i called home while in the south bay.

i spent the afternoon with my best friend at our favorite hang out and just relaxed catching up and trying to get her to move to utah,  i failed at all my attempts.   i awoke the next morning planning on an ocean swim in corona del mar but of course got lost and ended up somewhere in newport beach.   i'll probably get lost on the way to my own funeral!

we checked into the fancy hotel off the 5 next to the Gentlemans club and met up with moka and dave for a quick trip down to athlete check in.   i met up with another old friend for dinner and then it was back to motel de la awesome for some bike maintainance and hallway aero riding.    im lucky to have VERY patient friends with VERY patient better halves who can conduct bike fits with plastic ice trays.  all about the accuracy.

i slept like a baby, i am an exception here since everyone else seems to have a hard time sleeping the night before i race i'm out like a light at 10:00 pm and up like a bolt at 4:30 am.  i gathered my stuff and had to leave my racing buddy behind due to a stomach bug.  i headed down to t1 and was relived to see Salt Lake Tri Club signs ahead attached to none other than the duckworth clan.   we ran into several more people i listened to some bieber fever to get me going and headed over to the line up for the bathroom.  it was then that my first bout of ADD kicked in and 6 week old puppies distracted me from having to later push my way up to my swim start.  

reason number one you should study a course start, when the start happened i thought it was the actual start to the race, it was in fact, not so i wasted whatever energy i had pushing my way to what was only the in water start.   genius.   i stopped and doggie paddled until the actual gun went off and everything i'd learned in the pool dissipated and it was survival of the fittest.   my swim starts typically all start out the same within the first five minutes i've convince myself everyone has passed me and i'm the last person in the pact. of course i'm never actually able to confirm that since i start the mantras in my head and just try to not drown.  no matter how many times i do these things the swim is never a calm process for me.  i spend most of the time praying to God and reciting song lyrics over and over again in my head.  i alternated between "everythings gonna be alright" and "never say never"  i blame the pre race biebs listening for that one.  i think i did more praying to God this time around since i seemed to be getting run over by the lead males in the next wave.  i am not a fish nor will i ever be.  i confirmed that this race.


so it was out of the water and into transition.  smiling. yes, smiling.  and onto the bike.  i felt awesome the entire time.  thank you computrainer and 4:30 wake up calls (even the classes i missed) i loved the climbing and there was a lot of it.  my new shoes and cleats felt great and my shoulders burned from the fancy ice tray bike fit the night before but it was do or die.  i tried my best to stay in Z2 but didn't have nearly enough water or food to keep me going.  lesson learned.  by mile 45 i was exhausted and he guy in front of me was way to close for me to not take some advantage.   just as the thought crossed my mind i heard "4 bike lengths" shouted at me. the motorcycle draft police were not amused.  i dropped back and finished into t2.

the run.  my favorite and where i typically make up the most time.  but as with every race, expect the unexpected.  by mile 7 i was dead.   my own fault as i hadn't put in the miles and i knew it. i was skeptical on my shoes before i started and they won when the blisters started , each step seemed like pure hell.  utah had a huge representation and seeing familiar faces along the course alternating between "BAM" and "go curry"  made me feel proud and disciplined enough to keep going.   the last mile hurt and my feet felt like they weren't even there anymore.  i just wanted to cross that finish line and be done.   and i did.   6:09 final time.  9 minutes over what i'd hoped but a full hour less than the only other half i'd done 3 years prior.   i finished the race and saw dr. tom who directed me to the utah crew.   he pegged it perfectly when he said i looked a hot mess because at that moment in time i felt like one.   a very proud hot mess.

so the story continues and the training resumes because every time i swear to the holy heavens i'm not doing another one.  one seemingly appears on the calendar.  boulder 140.6  i'll see you august!

what we finally realize

in life there are many events that try to keep us grounded.  there are events that cause us to judge others no matter how hard we try not to, and forget.  there are events that make us wish we were somewhere else, or with someone else and there are events that make us very glad to be alone.

at 36 and single i find myself having to dodge the unmarried without kids question more often than i would like,  i find myself at events trying to come up with a valid excuse for it all.

society dictates a lot to me.  i'm influenced easily but i'd still like to remain that i'm not.  i want the big house but the truth is i could have afforded it years ago, subconsciously i just never bought it.   maybe life really does have a different plan for all of us, maybe not everyone is supposed to get married and have kids and live with someone.  maybe being social, living far away from family and being different has its benefits  and maybe its time i start acknowledging those events.

i've traveled to Asia to Europe and i can model an international bond like no other.  i can't get myself from point a to b without gps or pronounce a pharmaceutical drug without a hooked on phonics for pharmacists.  i don't have children but ive raised my pitbull to be more of a loving lap dog than the cruel statistic life has to provide.  i've been a bridesmaid more times than i can count and i've been ecstatic for every wedding i've been honored to be a part of.  i have friends all over the world and i've been happy for new life events without any envy.   i have an amazing and absolute family that keeps me grounded and dreaming all in the same breath.  i moved to California with no dreams but simply that i'd find myself. it took ten years and moving to utah that i became happy again.

so you see the paths in life that are supposed to be constructed for us, the ones that society dictates aren't always the ones we should be taking.   it doesnt' make us any better or a martyr or weird. it makes us, us.  and if my next adventure includes me scaling some mountain alone or moving or to another country because it seems fun, then i'm going to do it.  without judgement of myself.  because at the end of the day i'm the only one left to answer the questions society asks.

it all comes back to this

tonight i cried in yoga.   i'm not sure why.  as i thought about it more, the line from steal magnolias came into my head when M'Lynn is trying to figure out why Annelle is praying.


Truvy: Maybe she's praying for Marshall and Drew and Belle. Maybe she's praying for us because we're gossiping. Maybe she's praying because the elastic is shot in her pantyhose! Who knows! She prays a the drop of a hat these days.

Not to say that I cry at the drop of a hat these days, truth is I haven't cried in a long time.   Truvy's response to me might have gone something like this;  "maybe shes crying because she bought and ate cookies for breakfast, maybe shes crying because this yoga class just kicked her ass, maybe shes crying because she turns 36 tomorrow or maybe shes crying because she is just damn happy."

i never know if i am happy or not, never know if i'm lonely or not.  truth is i don't give much attention to my feelings until something like a last hot yoga class as a 35 year old hits me like a ton of bricks.

since my last post a lot has happened, one being i deleted all my photos from picassa hence the big old minus sign you see at the beginning of all my posts. i also quit my job, bought a new car, sold my old car, changed careers, had massive writers block, packed up and drove out to salt lake city, utah.  oh and i became a mormon.  (kidding on the last one)  i like salt lake. it seems to fit me, forces me into a healthier lifestyle.  3 years ago a friend provided me with a book that would serve as a catalyst for me.   i haven't opened that book up in 3 years, today i did and tonight i found the following passage " enlist the people you respect as you commit to achieve your goals"

tomorrow i turn 36.  and 3 years to a reunion i told my mother not to support.  tomorrow i will leave my past behind, my future the focus.  and if for some reason my future isn't what i thought it would be, then i just damn well carry on and sign up for more yoga.

running in place

in my twenties, i felt constant, with the norm.  never wanting to miss an experience.  in my thirties, life seemed to somehow get ahead of me.  the only constant seemed to be me falling behind.  it was like i went from mid pack, to running in place at the starting line.  everyone else was finishing but me.

i used to dare to be different, i even went so far as getting an african american cabbage patch doll when i was a kid just so i didn't have the same "doll" as everyone else.  i wanted a bmx instead of a huffy, i wore vans instead of keds, i played sports but hung out with the stoners. when college came i conformed, joined a sorority but more for the competitive edge of being first in my pledge class then anything else it had to offer. i drove across the country with no job and basically no home, just because i could.  i did an ironman when someone told me i couldn't, i ran a marathon even though most of my friends were the day time drinking kind.  i was never good at making any decisions outside of the athletic kind that were anything like what i was "supposed to do".

racing is a lot like life.  you start off ready to fight the fight, positive, sometimes smiling, and maybe a little scared.  you toe up after months of training, everything planned out.  you eat what you are supposed to eat, you prepare and you know EXACTLY what is going to be ahead of you for the next 30 minutes or 15 hours.  and then you cross the starting line, you shirt starts to rub you the wrong way, your sock slips below your sneaker causing blisters after just a few miles,  your googles fill with water and you get kicked in the leg you had the old injury on.  you get to transition and realize you forgot sunscreen, you become anxious on what the next hours will deliver, your side starts to hurt, you get a flat tire,  your mind starts to wander up the first set up hills, you run out of water, your blister is getting worse, and then you start to feel like you can't take another step, stroke or pedal.  but you do.  your mind wanders again back to the place that reminds you of how you got here in the first place. and you cross that finish line, braver, stronger and more beat up than before.  you adapt.

so next time i think i'm running in place i'll remember all those times i "toed up" to the start line of a race and achieved my own defined success.  daring to be different once again.

time. it heals.

“you have to walk, and create the way by your walking; you will not find a ready-made path. It is not so cheap, to reach to the ultimate realization of truth. You will have to create the path by walking yourself; the path is not ready-made, lying there and waiting for you. It is just like the sky: the birds fly, but they don't leave any footprints. You cannot follow them; there are no footprints left behind.” 

― Osho

there are many times when i heard this saying, time will heal, as i held tight in denial.   the way i operate is needing to know the actual, details, something to hold onto to.  not faith.  yet, with this same time, i have been so graciously granted by faith. i am able to accomplish things that never would have been accomplished without such venture.  so as i embark on my two year anniversary to that life changing decision to part take in an otherwise unknown destination i thank those who crossed my path of uncertainly, for it is them who got me to complete this blog today.

yes, there have been the bouts of "i can not", "i am falling behind", there was loss, complied  with the occasional "what the (enter explicit here) am i doing"  and the time, although  i thought running short,  was in reality, a new beginning.

this is not a race report.  this is not a failed PR.   this is the athlete that came about one weekend in February after searching active.com when i should have been working for a camp that would help me complete an utter and complete impulsive buy for an ironman competition in May 2011.  GPP Fit, GPP endurance, Salt Lake City, Utah and Lizz Bennett and Wes Johnson were all terms (and athletes) foreign to me.

as was a co worker with a sticker on her computer screen reading "140.6"  that led me to  buy a bike, a wetsuit, some googles and make a reservation for a camp that was sure to kick my ass this way to Sunday.  and leave no doubt, it did.

to date, even after two ironman competitions, 4 marathons, and a bucket load of 10k's i have never been so exhausted.  physically. and yet i' ve never felt so alive emotionally.  i rode, swam and ran harder and faster than i myself ever imagined was possible. and away i came with friendships and lifelines that i only hope someone reading this can experience.

its hard, no impossible, to believe that was two years ago.  who pays for these things?  who pays to do partner squats and burpees, swimming for hours only to ride a 50 mile loop and run a half marathon all in the same day?  who gets lost on a course only to have a random stranger pick you up, go for coffee and talk about how yes, you very well might be the same person?  i still don't know what drove me to enter that strange city or what made me go to dinner that night with a group of people i was more nervous to meet than a first blind date. but i did.

my competitors might not agree because out of that camp i gained myself back, i got faster, i got stronger.  i was the old curry and then some  after that weekend and well the rest is history.........

happy 2 year anniversary to my new start, to my utah family (north and south) and thank you for helping me to "create my path".

why i run

2 months has seemingly passed me by without a blog update, the holidays and a surprise stint as RD got in the way, which puts me exactly five race reports behind (four official, one "unofficial").  As many of you know I’m on a PR quest this year although admittedly I will not make my NYC marathon qualifier of a 1:30, at least not in my January time frame unless an act of God hits or i drop 15 pounds of holiday weight and/or they suddenly allow for rockets on the back of running shoes.  It was with this same type of dreaming that I went into the Venice Beach 10k.  Appropriately, I asked the fasted person I know to pace me to a 44:00 minute finish. he said yes even though sometimes pacing me is much more painful than one might ever want to sign themselves up for.  I’m competitive and tend to get in a zone that is unbreakable once I begin.  My cheeks turn a bright shade of red, selective hearing and bitch mode kicks in.

the next four races i ran without a "pace car" and seemingly did okay and i mention this because  this blog entry should probably be a summary of all the official races i've managed to complete.  a dictation of elevation, swag reviews, hilly course descriptions and who had the best beer at the finish line (New Years Race, Los Angeles.  Sierra Nevada)  but instead i'm choosing to go the typical "curry route" and take a different direction.  i am choosing to write  about my one "unofficial" race.

i've written in blog posts prior about my sisters and their influence on me as both an athlete and a dream seeker.   so it is again that i write how they both encouraged me without their knowing to make my debut as an unofficial race director.   every year i make my trek home to the cold weather that awaits in December to spend Christmas with my family in the city of brotherly love.  typically, i do some training runs while i'm home and try to get my middle sister out of her house of four children.  (not an easy task for obvious reasons)  she humored me this year and mentioned if i found a race she would run with me.

i began my search and came up short with an unsurprising nothing. so i decided i would create my own race,  a 5 mile run through valley forge park that we both had done a million times prior.  it started innocent enough with a few friends showing interest and somehow grew to a facebook page with 49 accepted "yes" replies.  in conjunction with my debut i was talking to a friend deployed in Afghanistan who mentioned he was doing some volunteer work overseas for Afghanistan children to teach them english.  he had casually mentioned that they needed some basic school supplies.

  my initial goal was simple, run a race with my sister.  what it turned into was much, much greater.

on december 22nd close to 25 people braved the cold windy weather each carrying bags of school supplies and monetary donations for an organization that was foreign to everyone just days prior.  my mother donned her santa hat, my 3 year old nephew brought his running shoes, and my two sisters, my mom, a former middle school principal and dozens others started on our route for the "unofficial/official" Christmas run in Valley Forge Park.

official races are great, tech tees are an added bonus but there is nothing greater than getting a bunch of crazy runners together, most of whom i'd only known through facebook posts and race reports prior.

we finished our 5 miler and "mom" 1 mile fun run (at the request of my amazing mother)  with good spirits and dunkin donuts coffee and munchkin holes at the finish line.  we even had some six packs of chocolate ale to sip.  which for the record is perfectly acceptable at 10 am post run.

people often ask me why i run, what do i find so intriguing about it?  this race is my answer.

later that week i sent out two huge boxes to cat and the hat language arts center in bagram, Afghanistan.  and later that night i thanked God for the opportunity to spend the holidays with my family doing what i love the most.

running.  

Topanga Canyon Trail Race Report

a few months back i got this idea that i wanted to do an ultra.  so i googled what was demographically feasible and then quickly realized that most, if not all, ultras were trail runs.   a trail run was a "road" i'd never traveled.  it was uncharted territory for me and once again doubt set in.  i found an initiation race in topanga canyon, a 10k.  i knew topanga canyon from my old commuting days to woodland hills and  if anything the scenery would prove to be worth the 6.2 miles. at a minimum it was thanksgiving day so i could negate any binging i was going to do later in the day.   

i couldn't convince anyone to participate in my recent decision so i woke up solo on thanksgiving morning ready to hit the trails, alone, a little unprepared and if we are being honest, scared as hell.    the doubt and emotion i had the prior night was something that i had yet to experience.  typically i doubt myself before each race but this doubt was different, this was new, i didn't have experience running trails and like a rookie i showed up in my road ready saconys.   lesson learned on the downhills, buy trail shoes. 

my old coach showed up on his mountain bike to guide me through and as i stepped off the shuttle up the canyon he was the first person i saw, instant relief.  ariel typically makes me very nervous because his expectations of how i should perform are much greater than what i think i'm actually capable of.  but he also has never been incorrect in my times and performance standards.  he instructed me to head up the trail for 10 minutes to get my heart rate up, he followed me up the trail, issuing my always needed accountability.  i turned back at his direction and went down to stretch and get ready to conquer the start of a 3 mile uphill climb.   

at the start i positioned myself mid pack, no ipod (also new), eyed my competition who i might be able to pass, who i should pace with and we were off.  the first three miles were a straight climb up  and i felt stronger with every stride.  the view just kept getting better with each motion.  i started slow in the pack and held back when i wanted to dart ahead.  "slow and steady, slow and steady"  ariel was on the course waiting yelling encouragement and then riding ahead again to meet me a few miles down.  i felt amazing and it sounds strange but i always race better on hills.  i fell in love with everything about this race and i knew it from the moment my feet hit the dirt.  there was nothing flat about this course but "what comes up must also come down"  and i opened up and made up anytime i lost on the uphill climb.  as i picked people off,  i knew i was in contention to place but i wasn't 100% sure so i pushed it out and watched the mile markers to make sure i wasn't going to run out of power.  and then it happened we entered single file switchbacks which made me feel more like i was in the mountains of colorado then los angeles, california.  i navigated the rocks, bumps and trees with my no fear attitude and prayed that i didn't fall and end up in a cast again.  in those last few miles i was lost in myself, truly i was one with the race.    the last hundred yards dumps you out into a fire road and i saw one person in front of me, i sprinted, he picked up his pace and i gunned it, passing him seconds before the finish line.  

i did it.  i finished my first trail run and fell in love again with racing.   

i never used to stick around for awards for a couple reasons, the main one being because i was never anywhere near that kind of recognition.  i also never stuck around because its never really been my style.  then i got home that night and looked at the times.  i placed 2nd in my AG!  and in the top 15 females.    

 i think God has finally given me my calling, in trail running.  i haven't fallen for anything in  a long time mostly from fear but on thanksgiving day i fell. and i fell hard, for trail running. i love it.  

so God willing bring on the ultra.  

i'm ready.  

the holidays

so in due fashion i've decided to race a turkey trot, a trail run turkey trot at quite possibly the hardest canyon los angeles has to offer, topanga canyon.  its okay, i'll finish. who knows in what time but with the sight of turkey and wine at the finish line probably pretty fast.

prior to this "trot"  i'm celebrating the season.  the season is my favorite and quite possibly the most surprising to some that it is.  to me, Christmas is the best time of the year, the time when people turn nice and everyone is happy.  its a time for little ones to believe in santa clause and play make belivie for an entire month.  and oddly my favorite holiday, its the time of year when i am most happy.  for people suffering from depression there isn't a lot that allows for many happy times, but for me Christmas is one of them.  there isn't anything i don't love about it.  i was blessed to have a fantastic holiday upbringing.  my family would celebrate, my middle sister insisting that "santa" wrap all our gifts in different papers.  i would lay in bed and watch the candle in the window until i was to tired to watch for santa anymore. he would never disappoint he was always at our house year after year.  i feel those feelings now before a race.  like Christmas morning, i anticipate what i know will only be the best possible thing God has to deliver.

throughout the years it is unfortunate that i've also lost a few people at this time.  i have watched a few friends suffer the loss of their mothers during the holiday season and although usually wrapped up in racing it has been those losses that have helped me race during the holidays.  i raced nations tri with my friend kelly's mom there cheering me on and at the time, which she did not know, she was dying of pancreatic cancer.  that was the last time i saw her as the person i remember her as.  i spent the following months by her bedside with my good friend saying goodbye to her mom.  i also spent that time with another very close friend of mine who was losing her mom to cancer, she would not be here for the next Christmas.  its hard to lose those during the holidays but its also a reminder of special angels we get at this time each year.  i race because i can.  i used to race because i wanted to prove something to someone but not anymore.

and even though Christmas might be painful for some.  it might be considered a sad holiday if you don't have anyone and perhaps a little lonely if you let it be.   but for me its happy.  i see it as a new beginning every year.  a new way to start, forget the old, honor those in our lives and just live.

merry Christmas and happy holidays to all.

Directional change straight to Utah

sometimes when i watch them cross the finish line i have their stories told in my head but i never had these stories told.  i never had the stories told of those i looked up to.  humility is a trait possessed by so few and difficult to master in those that attempt it.  most of the time greed and selfishnesses take over and ultimately win.  not with them.  never with them.

i'm still not sure how i managed to travel to an unknown city for four days of training for an Ironman with people i'd never met when sometimes its challenging to go to a new restaurant with new friends. but then again this is how i found out about faith.

the first "story" i heard was from a girl i'd already passed judgement on.  she is now one of my best friends.  the second story came a year later from a friend who decided to just give her kidney away as a means of giving back.  humble?  yes, this was the pure raw definition of humility. turns out there was a lot more to HER story.  there were a few in between stories that i was more surprised at one by one, surprised not because of the intensity but in awe that here i was feeling sorry for myself, yelling for someone to hear and take notice and all the while God planted it right there in front of me.  they were brought to me all at one time but their impact i would realize along the way, years later.   there was death, there was almost death, there was addiction, there was hate, disappointment,  embarrassment and anger, there was a lot of anger.  but that anger is now redistributed.   it has three contenders.... swim. bike. run.

people challenge themselves in life for many reasons and the challenges, they may vary.  i challenged myself to live life, to put the past in the past and to allow myself to be sad sometimes, to still be angry, and that its always okay to cry.  the tears the year after i met my new friends were tears of joy. tears when i alone achieved crossing the finish line of an all day race, twice.  God doesn't grant me always sunny days and sometimes he gives me a new story about an old friend to remind me why i started triathlons in the first place.

now excuse me, i have to go run.

i'll take it

there were two full days of being a complete bitch and feeling sorry for myself.  i'm not sure i'm over the complete bitch part and still feel bad for the parking attendant that had to deal with me exiting the doctors office parking garage.   years ago i might have welcomed the break and some might think, based on the way i talk, that i might have welcomed it this time around.....but i did not. i do not.

a few years ago i injured my ankle in a "just for fun"  soccer league in santa monica.  i got slide tackled by a guy and to date have never been in so much pain (note i have no children)  i was on bed rest for weeks and in a cast on my right leg for 16 weeks.  it was in typical stubborn form i allowed no help and listened selectively when the doctors told me to take it easy.  either way it was after that injury that i vowed to never take my ability to run for granted again, ever.  pulling me away from activity is like pulling a pacifier out of a babies mouth and the results, the same, kicking and screaming resumes and the end result is never good.

when i crashed on my bike i didn't feel it was a big deal, i rode after and chalked up the days following to "stiffness".  i visited the doctor to appease some people and thought maybe i sprained it.  turns out there was a little more.

i had two races on my calendar.  malibu and los angeles.  i had never raced either one and had both on my agenda for very different reasons.  the first was malibu.   it was the first race i would be doing solo. it was also the first race i watched someone else complete as their first triathlon.  i was excited to conquer this one alone because recently i realized it was my own journey.   the second was la also with a bit of a new beginning.  i won't and didn't compete in either and i have to know (this is impossible sometimes)  that this is in God's plan.

i also realize that i have so much to be thankful for and sometimes you need a kick in the rear to understand this.  of course it doesn't make the process any easier but it does make me think that there are different roads to travel, different paths to take.   there are breaks (or dislocations with torn ligaments) one needs in life, to just slow down.

i'm a little worried what the next few weeks will bring, someone put a bunch of chocolate in the trading room and i've already helped myself to a little to much.  someone was also already staring at me as i tried to run with the pup in DTLA. but i'll take a break. because as it turns out i'm not that crazy 20 year old anymore.  i'm now that fearless 35 year old and i'll pay the price even if it means a cast for 3 weeks (which i just negotiated down to 2 weeks, 6 days)

11 years later

this morning when i woke up i forgot.  maybe i tried to forget on purpose.  i went through my morning routine, tuned into cnbc and was reminded by the moment of silence on the somber new york stock exchange floor.

i stood there for a what seemed like much longer than a minute and began to once again tear at the mere thought of the events 11 years ago.  as the day progressed i got a little angry that people weren't more dedicated to the day.

i didn't run today although i now wish i had.  running was the escape i had 11 years ago when we were sent home from work.  i ran far, i ran fast and i ran silent.

the one question i get asked time and time again is what do you think about when you run? sometimes i don't have a good answer for that question because truthfully sometimes i just run to finish.  but not that day.  that day i ran to forget.  just like i tried to do this morning when i saw the calendar marked 9/11.

for the lives lost and the new lives that became of it.

i run.

back in the game.... i think

To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else -- means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

 -ee cummings

i have a bad (or somewhat) interesting habit of jumping in full throttle.  my friend noticed this at my first attempt at mountain biking in which he described the "curry no fear" technique as i flew over rocks, weaving in and out of trees and finally stopping with an exclamation of "i freaking love mountain biking!"

over the course of the past few years i've seemingly stepped up my game. not really on purpose. and its not just with sports, its everything i do.  passion? stupidity? curiosity?  most likely a mix of all three.  i'm so indecisive about so much, choosing an item from a dinner menu.... red or white.... renting or owning.... leasing or buying.... and i'm convinced i wear so much black, grey and white just so i don't have to mix and match colors everyday.

on the flip side when i find something that works, it works. end of story.

my trifecta of the swim, bike, run was also a leap of faith. the ironman(s), my reward.  this season started with a head first dive as well.  i was on track for a great season and i had a great couple of races.  then i lost my edge, fell off the wagon and headed back down the road i'd seen time and time again.  except this time it wasn't so dark, more just a little break from it all. but as with everything the extremist in me appeared and i let my bike and swim go.  these past weekends i've been hitting all three in preparation for my two oly's coming up, including the ocean swim part.  and it feels great.

i'm not sure what i'll jump into next and i'm a little scared to be honest.  and yes, there are times when i wish i could be a little less passionate/stupid/curious.  and sometimes i fear the passion has died.  but then i remember why i started in the first place and i go for it again.

head first, of course.

no ironmen allowed....

as i stumbled my way back into the gym this week and attempted to kick out a 5 miler on said treadmill    (i've been doing more sprint work than distance so i wasn't exactly embracing the 40 or so minute run that awaited me)  i found a working treadmill (finally) turned on SC, started with the up button and heard "no ironmen allowed on these treadmills"

 he struck up a conversation with me, noticing my finisher shirt and told me he had just sub 13'ed CDR.  we chatted a bit re la and malibu i mentioned my goals at both, we discussed times, he looked impressed when i said i did st. george.  (secretly i love the reaction i get when i tell people this, my first one and most arguably the hardest course in the circuit, yes this is bragging a little, i surprised myself and this goes with the if i can do it, ANYONE can do it)

the run that night was fantastic and again i surprised myself, i like when this happens.  as many know montgomery has reset my priorities in training but he has also reset my priorities in life.  he is the best addition now and always.  i've got two oly's coming up and my bike tires are still flat.  i contemplated heading back to "just running" and then remembered i like the mix of events, the unfamiliar.  i enjoy the swim now and i LOVE the run and the bike is my challenge.  i didn't start these events for an easy road but yet to challenge myself.   so here goes the challenge, september is going to be a good month.  two olympics and hoping to podium, God willing.  being bumped up in AG helps too.

i reflect back to a blog post from my amazing friend/pseudo coach lizz, following my first ironman...http://www.gppfitness.com/endurance/2011/5/11/ironman-st-george-2011-re-cap.html

so tonight i walked the pup and put some air in the giant avail II tires.  just because we were on a break doesn't mean we stopped.

Friday the 13th.

tomorrow i turn 35.   35.  five years away from 40.  number 13 the first time i "inhaled" a cigarette at erin mooneys pool. 21 entered legal drinking and a limo ride. 26 was a brave venture out to the west coast to find the missing piece.  and at 33 i lost a piece.  


and oddly enough,  i feel more ready than ever to face the future.  dare i say, i'm excited?  


i started the 2012 racing "season" with a handful of races.  a dualthon in which i podiumed for the first time ever. killed my PR in a very hilly 10k.  averaged 20.4 in an olympic on the bike and finished my 4th marathon in 3:55.  i made the decision to give myself the summer off (well technically the puppy made that decision for me) but i will admit its nice to just sit back and relax for once.  a little less pressure on myself.  my workout goals are geared more toward clearing my head than anxiously prepping for a race, stalking my competition and trying to remember if i remembered my googles, bike, and sneakers!  i'm enjoying the view.  its a sweet, sweet change. 


triathlons are probably the only sport where being in your "30's and 40's" place you in your  prime.  so there you have it people... at 35 i've seemingly landed myself smack in the middle of my prime. 


HBTM. 

invisible dreams

a few years ago i made a decision to start the sport of triathlon.  i finished a super sprint in hermosa beach california and you would have thought i conquered mount Everest.  in my mind that day i did.  i swam in the ocean "competitively", i rode a hybrid bike with a funny helmet and the anxiety of being last to the finish line diminished as i made my way into transition to the 5k run along an all to familiar course of the strand. the strand is a cement walkway that runs the length of the beach and the view never gets old.  if there is one item from my beach days that i miss its long morning runs along the strand.

after the super sprint i decided i wanted to try another one. i wasn't "hooked" per se but i needed and wanted a new challenge.  to me it was more like the thrill of chasing the next goal not so much the sport itself.   i completed a Olympic distance next in washington dc in the pouring rain with a new bike, googles and a wetsuit that i owned and a run with support of family and friends.   and then in the true spirit of chasing down the dream i signed up for an ironman distance triathlon.  i knew nothing more than i knew when i signed up for that super sprint but i knew myself and what i was capable of and i was pretty sure it would allow me to lose the last ten pounds i'd been working on for the majority of my lifetime.  it didn't and in fact i think i might have gained some weight just this time more from 4 am workouts and two a days then from a small pizza and ice cream post bender at the bar.  and even if i still looked the same i didn't feel the same.  and that was the important part that i needed to be concerned with.

it got me here. where i needed to be today.  i've stopped trying to plan five years ahead and been okay with "the moment"  this comes and goes and i can't say that tomorrow i'll be back to not wanting the unattainable.  i spend to many nights wondering if i'll ever lose that extra ten pounds,  if i'll ever accomplish the high invisible goal i've set for myself.  i hung up training.  i left my coach.  my bike tires are flat and my googles haven't had a run at the water in probably a month.  but my running shoes still come out on top.  my navy blue nike shorts that i have literally owned for 10 years are still my favorite and i still change outfits 16 times before hitting the gym.  and i've finally been okay with this.

because even if i'm unsure of this dream, i'm still finding a way to live in the moment.