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Showing posts from June, 2013

Call me Ironman

I wish I could stop and rewind the video of the last 4 days. Truth be told, the excitement in the days that follow an Ironman almost rivals the incredible emotions of the day itself. Perhaps this is why every attempt—up until now—to sit down and organize my thoughts on paper has proven fruitless. Too many thoughts, too many memories struggle for attention in an attempt to claim the spotlight of a day filled with highlights. I look down at my hands and realize I still have them both. Each still exhibits 5 fingers. My feet still work, and every single toe still has its toenail. I remember once hearing that racing an Ironman will shave off about 2 years of your life. I guess after finishing, I thought the loss would be a little more tangible. Sure, my muscles screamed with every step I took. My abdominals seized with every inhalation. My gut rejected all my stomach contents when I got home (I thought I’d be sleeping on the toilet Sunday night). I’m still nursing a blister th

Just 5 more days: Ironman CDA

For those who know me, you'll never find me sitting on my ass doing nothing. I’ve done about all the things a girl could do in the kitchen (dinners are prepared three nights in advance…) I even found myself peeling oranges because I had no other fruit to cut up. My only explanation is that, food that is ready to eat is food more likely to be eaten. I've moseyed around the yard, pulling weeds and tending to the vegetable garden. Since I have nothing left to do, I thought I'd write a little something for you instead. (By the end, you'll likely have suggestions of things I can do).  I still remember 15 days ago when I found comfort in the fact I could still count the number of days to Ironman with my fingers and my toes. It leaves me a little disconcerted that I no longer need my toes or the fingers on my left hand. Only five fingers remain. For the last few days, a number of events have preoccupied my time. I volunteered at the TriFusion Kids Tria

Breathless

When I look back at the past week, I feel as though I need to sit down and hang on to something sturdy. One week ago today, my parents and I flew down to Colorado Springs to watch my brother, Ian, graduate from the Air Force Academy. To say we felt “proud” is an incredible understatement, especially when we thought of all the times we prayed for his success in the face of difficult tests and physical measures. Heck, if he wasn't flying them, he was jumping out of airplanes! Over 1,000 graduates in this year's class. It was pretty overwhelming to watch them all march out onto the field. In the midst of all the pomp and circumstance that surrounded Ian’s graduation, I couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable with leaving the predictable and structured life of Spokane I’ve come to adopt in the face of an impending Ironman that now stands less than 20 days away. Leaving for Colorado during the biggest weak of my training—my peak week—made me wonder if the “balance”