Rays of Joy on a Rainy Day

The sky outside after our swim today.  Beautiful.

It would have been so much easier to spend the afternoon reading and eating brownies. So . . . comforting.  After all, I had already run a 5K this morning.  Why not take the afternoon off?  

And when heavy rains arrived about 2pm, that very easily could have happened.  However, my busy 15 year old son had agreed to go swimming with me; and I'm not one to turn down such an offer. Moments later, when the sun streamed out between the clouds, the message to me was clear:  Get your gear packed.  You're not done.   
And it hit me: my upcoming triathlon is only two weeks away!  

Even though I am pretty sure I can finish the sprint distance without drowning, crashing, or crawling (I hope), I still feel butterflies stirring.  I have fantasies of an age group award . . . and although unlikely, I cling to it like a celebrity crush.

One mile swim today.  I wouldn't have done it without my
son's willingness to join me.  Anything for his company-
even if we are swimming three lanes apart.

After this morning's disappointing 5K race time, I drove to the pool in the company of my eldest son.  Watching him glide through the water like a shark, I tried (and failed) to emulate his stroke and ease.  My time was slower than usual, but I completed my mile and felt great about having made the effort.

John Robert in a rare moment of pride last summer,
sporting his swim meet accomplishments.

I thought by age 48 (almost), I would have come to grips with whatever my life has been and be coasting down the backside of the hill in calm acceptance.  I thought all my definitions of myself would have been carved out and determined.  Not so.  

I am still looking at myself in the mirror in surprise.  Who is this woman?  I am amazed that I'm discovering myself and striving toward new goals-- IRONMAN-- that I never before thought possible ... for me.  

I don't know what the future holds.  I do know that I want to try new things, explore, find my limits.  I want to learn new things and go where I've never been.  And so . . . here I am, looking at the parting clouds, feeling the joy, and wondering what is possible.

A Big Thank You to the Covington Firehouse 5K

 Having done zero speedwork this year, it should have come as no surprise that my 5K pace would be slower than last year.  Alas, I have a poor memory for bad news.  In my mind, I was going to rock it just like my 7 minute pace last spring.  Surprise!

Despite falling off pace and beginning to daydream around the half way point, I did find my way back into the race and finished hard.  I was inspired by the fireball runner in front of me who placed first overall in the female master's division.  I couldn't quite catch her!

Receiving my Dalmation Trophy.

It was a wonderful morning to be outside and in the company of runners of all levels.  And I came away with a unique age group trophy, a medal for my collection, and a t-shirt for my son.  A good start to the weekend! 

First Place in my age group-- Whoo, Hoo!

THIS is where I used to keep the Brownies!

 Some people make big changes quickly.  Not me.  It took me over 11 years of dating the same man to decide to get married to him.  I waited until my mid-30's to have children.  And I waited most of my life to really take care of my health.

Denver pitting dates and making his own
energy bars.

Today as I was simultaneously putting away groceries and trying to make lunch for the boys and me, I realized that the counter near the stove is where I used to keep all the brownies, cookies, and breads I had baked.  

Today's Lunch:
Kale salad with sweet potatoes, tart cherries, and pecans.

After 40+ years of thinking about healthy choices and then eating cinnamon rolls, I now find that I make good choices quite often-- though not always!  Slowly over the years, I began to get excited about making healthy, tasty recipes that fuel my life and help me stay healthy and full of energy.  

Triathlon and marathon goals help with this.  It isn't enough to eat well just to look thin.  Eating well for athletic performance is a fun challenge; and one of the side effects is that I'm learning how to eat well for life's daily challenges, too.  Another benefit is that my husband and three sons are learning this skill alongside me.

Much love to the ladies from Women for Tri, for all of your inspiration.  You women are part of my tribe of mothers, daughters, sisters, and grandmothers who are helping change the world's understanding of what women can be and what women can do.  

Goodbye to Monday Morning Blues

What Every Monday Should Look Like!

Most Mondays carry the weight of responsibility on their shoulders.  It's the day of looking at the calendar and scheduling the workload.

This morning for two hours I broke free.  

One of many wooden bridges
on Arabia Mountain Trail.

In a rare move, I dropped my son at carpool then zipped out to a nearby bike trail for a ride.  It was 20 miles of sunlight through the trees, cool air, and flowers around every turn.  There were so many squirrels and birds frolicking, I felt like Snow White in the forest-- only faster.

The View from my Cockpit

Decisions, Decisions . . . Let's take them all :-)

Spooky and I raced along, my heart racing too, as we took curves faster than ever before. Early weekday mornings gave me more privacy on the trail.  I could zoom at wild speeds without fear of collision with inattentive walkers.  I could even stop to take pictures of Spooky and me.

After this escape, I found myself able to come back to my day's workload in peace.  Protein smoothie in hand, I began the calendar's To-Do List with a smile on my lips.

More Mondays should begin this way!

My partner, Spooky, getting ready to GO.

A Goldilocks Morning

Just a perfect 20 mile ride this morning on the Arabia Mountain bike trail.  Maybe that sounds like a lot to you.  Maybe it sounds like a warm up.  Like Goldilocks, it was just right for me.

After a week of family travel-- hours of driving, lots of standing and touring, and no bicycles-- I was gleeful this morning as Spooky and I slipped out of the house.  My husband waved good-bye, still chuckling at the way I refer to my bike as a person.  "Well, at least you never ride alone!" he said, shaking his head as he went back in the house to drink coffee and watch TV like a normal person.

Cool air.  Blue sky.  Sun and shade.  Steep hills and marvelously winding miles drained the lingering fatigue from my travel weary legs.  Spooky gripped the turns and sprinted up the hills-- surging past young men in matching cycling jerseys as I smiled and called out, "On your left!"  

A little over an hour later, I reached 20 miles, and practiced my transition to the run-- leaning my bike against a sign, whipping off my helmet and cycling shoes, and sprinting down the trail.  I forgot my running shoes, so went without.  I chose not to make eye contact with passersby who surely must have wondered why this middle aged woman was sprinting barefoot away from her bicycle. Perhaps they thought I was running from three bears!

After recovering from my run, I grinned like a fool.  If everyone knew how much fun this was, the trails and roads would be packed with cyclists.  Thank goodness no one believes me!

All Aboard the Pain Train!

Approaching the Finish Line; overcome with emotion

My mother-- who is one of my biggest fans-- is always afraid I'm going to permanently injure myself with "all this running."  

I certainly cannot explain it to her or blame her for worrying.  It doesn't make any sense when you view running solely through the lense of health or weight control.

But that isn't my view at all.  

Running is my daily chance to be free from other labels. For that hour or so, I am not Mom or Judge or Teacher.  I am a Runner.  And that is the joy.

Last month at Atlanta's Publix Marathon, I was hoping to qualify for Boston.  I didn't.  But I was a runner racing and giving it every ounce of effort.  The pain on my face as I approached the finisher's chute is proof that it wasn't wasted effort.

Ahh . . . My Bling Collection Grows . . . 

I went out there to see what I could do on that day.  I found out.  I would hate it if I never knew.

Early in the race; still feeling fine.

5:30am and who is with me?
My support crew, my cheerleader, my taxi, my sherpa.
I owe you big, Sweetie.

Thank You to Everyone Responsible for the Tony Serrano Century Ride

This was NOT us at the Tony Serrano Century,
but there were moments when it felt like we were close!

 Sometimes the secret to happiness is just getting the mind and body working and moving so fast and hard that any clouds are burned away.


My recent cloudy mood was cleared away by the joys of a 39 mile bike ride in and around Monroe, Georgia this past Saturday at the Tony Serrano Century.

High winds and cool air kept me flying at a faster than normal pace-- even into the headwinds and crosswinds. Undeterred by a flat tire, I am grateful to the kind folks who helped me get rolling again-- Delfino, Jackie, and the SAG wagon-- and all the fabulous volunteers and participants I met.  

Although I was surprised to realize that it really was a "ride" and not a "race" (I had wondered why so many people stopped at the rest stops!), it was a joy to participate and have my friend, Amy, there to share it with.

Denver and John Robert
after a great bike and scooter ride.

Upon arriving home, I couldn't wait to share the joys of the day with my sons.  They were all too happy to get outside on our bikes and ride to the nearest ice cream shop.

Sunshine and clouds.  Up hills and down.  There is joy to be had and I'll take it to go!

Spencer and Denver try out a new idea.