MF'n Triathlon Coaching

I’m happy to report (in a healthy way) that in the past two months, my experience with hemp protein has been a good one. I first learned about the nutritional benefits of hemp in an article I read from Runners World. Up until a few months ago, I’d always associated hemp with the eclectic people I would encounter when I walked through parks in Moscow, ID while attending school down there. I still think about those guys, and the word “hippie” comes to mind. Yet when I read about the nutritional benefits of hemp, I thought it would be kind of fun to try. After all, I’d already embarked on a new diet emphasis that aligns with the Paleo diet (minus the pieces of dark chocolate I regularly enjoy, which I’m sure no caveman would EVER have been so lucky to come upon while ambling through the woods). Speaking of Paleo, in addition to adding hemp protein to my diet, I’ve developed a huge appreciation for the oh-so-versatile sweet potato. I used to have oatmeal every morning, but b

I have a extraordinary relationship with my massage therapist, Libby, who works at the Wandermere Elements Therapeutic Massage. By the way she mashes my back, kneads my quads, and spirals her elbows in my butt, you’d think the last thing I’d do is schedule another 80-minutes of anguish with her. Yet I find myself sitting in the lobby, staring at the three pictures on the wall that represent what nature is supposed to exude: calmness. Perhaps it’s the calm before the storm, so to speak. How else can I justify the utter excitement I feel, knowing the muscles that have worked so hard to carry me through each and every training day will soon meet the strength and skill of Libby’s hands? My friend greets me at the door and leads me back to the dark room of calmness. The soothing music hardly drowns out the list of “problem areas” I make Libby aware of. Quite frankly, I don’t know why I always repeat myself, as she has yet to miss a muscle that isn’t already aching or tight,

Spring. New beginnings. New priorities. New goals. I sat in the dermatologist’s office this past Wednesday, thinking just how ridiculous these past two months have felt. Everything that could happen—has happened. Everything that needed to start—has started. Yet time hasn’t slowed.   My training has definitely continued, but a number of different “events” have cropped up that have made life slightly more interesting. The trip to the dermatologist was the result of a “rash” that has invaded my hands over the past few weeks. While friends enjoyed diagnosing it as athlete’s hand, I found relief when the dermatologist diagnosed me with hand eczema, the result of excessive hand washing and hand sanitizer use. Apparently, my change in lifestyle by working as a student of physical therapy (washing my hands before and after seeing each patient) has taken an uncomfortable toll on my hands. Today, I felt remarkably blessed by the opportunity to ride outside in sunshine on a