Friends and fans have been asking about my plans for the 2017 triathlon season. Well, I've decided not to race anymore. The reason for my decision? Happiness. The past several years racing pro, I've had this feeling inside of me, some sort of obligation and pressure to keep going. I thought maybe, just maybe I'd wake up one day and feel differently about my true feelings. 

What makes you happy? What do you do and why do you do it? This past year has really opened my eyes to what all of that really means. I was in a dark place for a little while. I didn't want to train or do anything for that matter; I'd mentally check out during races. You can't truly be successful at what you do if you aren't happy doing it. The day I sat on my futon and cried, was the day I knew I had to do something about it. 

Ever since my last race in July, I haven't laced up my running shoes or hopped in the pool for anything more than a recovery workout. I kept riding my bike and I was happy again. I hopped on the track (cycling) and I haven't looked back. I've dabbled in track racing before, but this time around I am 110% commited and I'm super excited for the 2017 season. Who knows what the next couple years will bring, but I can say that I'm happy and that's all that matters right now. #Ttown

I feel like I deserve a sobriety coin...or at least a cookie. I survived an entire week of no exercise. I ate a lot of food (good and bad), read a little bit, and cleaned everything like my life depended on it. Lo and behold, there was a lesson to be learned. I experienced a whole new level of mental toughness. No matter how many times (at least 30) I thought about going for a spin, dip, or run, I persevered. I don't feel burned out and I'm excited to get things rolling for 2016! At the end of the day, I'm thankful to be able to experience the little joys of life...something all of us should remember during this holiday season. Live, laugh, love.

As some of you know, I've hired a coach for the first time in my triathlon career. I repeat, I hired someone to tell me what to do. Some ask, why now? After racing at the highest level for a few years, I've realized that I'm missing that 1% in every aspect of triathlon training and racing. When my coach told me to take this week off from physical activity before ramping things up for 2016, I was instantly resistant. After a few minutes of trying to negotiate, he finally said, "The fact that you don't want to do it is a sign that you need it." So, I decided to have some fun with it. Immediately after running the Philly Half Marathon, I indulged in kimchi fries and mochi at Bleu Sushi then sent my coach frivolous messages about smoking cigarettes and having dinner at McDonald's, Checkers and KFC. "Now's the time to do it all," he said. Follow along on FB as I survive a sedentary Thanksgiving week because I just might do it all. #NewBeginnings

Last May, I decided to sign up for my marathon debut. This is coming from someone who always said, "I'm never doing a full marathon." But, I'm also the kind of person that will do something on the spur of the moment. 

My weekly miles prior to the Philly Marathon, starting from August: 27, 26, 24, 28, 30, 33, 11, 24, 3, 46, 42, 19, 32, 24, 28, 23. That's an average of 26 miles per week...only a third of what most people run when training for a marathon. I wouldn't recommend doing it this way. I train for Half Ironman races (where you swim 1.2 miles, bike 56 miles, and run 13.1 miles), so I can kind of get away with running less since I'm riding so much during the season. It works for me and I wouldn't change anything. But, a full marathon is a different beast. I didn't have much time to transition from triathlon to marathon mode; no matter how badass someone thinks they are, it's pretty difficult to fake it and muscle through a full marathon. 

I did the best I could to train with a nagging knee injury, making sure to get to the start line healthy. The gun went off, and in the back of my mind I knew I was going to run into a wall...I just didn't know when it was going to happen. I felt as light as ever during the first half of the marathon, but then it drastically started to go downhill around mile 16. That makes for a very long, long ten miles. It got so bad at times, I considered walking or even dropping out. I finally crossed the finish line in utter relief. 3:03. Good, bad, and so much fun all at the same time. Good because it's a fast time for such little run training, bad because I know I'm going to sign up for another marathon so I can do it the right way, and so much fun because I've been revitalized. 

If it wasn't for my spur of the moment decision, I wouldn't have reached out to my then Facebook-only friend, Dianne. If I hadn't reached out to her, I wouldn't have met such an amazing person. Instead of staying at a hotel like I usually do, I took up the offer to stay at her house with her rad housemate, Maria. Dianne and I hit it off the moment we met...like we've been friends for years. I don't think I've ever laughed so much or so hard in one weekend. It's almost scary because we have a lot in common too! Genuinely real. At the end of the day, I couldn't help but think about how happy and natural my life felt; how people come and go so quickly in everyone's lives; every once in a while, a rare gem walks into your life. When that happens, grab onto it tight and don't let go because one genuine friendship trumps a million superficial ones. What perfect timing, restoring my faith this holiday season. Happy, happy Thanksgiving...cheers to many more laughs.

Oh, their cat Puddles and I hit it off pretty well too...

Just because a doctor wears a suit and tie, it doesn't mean they're always right. Just because a doctor is a doctor, it doesn't mean they're always right. Always get a second, or even third opinion because of all people, YOU know your own body the best. 

Just one week prior to this past Sunday's Half Ironman race, my right leg pretty much gave up on me while I attempted a 5k race. Literally right after I warmed up for the race, a ligament in my right knee became super tender...out of nowhere! I tried to stretch and rub it out a little, but the pain wouldn't go away. It eased ever so slightly just a few minutes before the race, but I'm sure that was because of the usual pre-race adrenaline. I didn't think anything of it once the race started. 

The gun went off and it was go time...except my right leg didn't quite get the message. Within the first few hundred meters, I knew something wasn't quite right, but I kept going. It wasn't until a mile in, I knew I was creating more damage than good. It was a pain, discomfort, and unusual feeling in my quad that I've never felt before. Essentially, my right leg was doing all of the work, my left leg fresh as anything. It was...SCARY. My gait was clearly off, I tried to compensate by trying to put more weight on my left leg, but who was I kidding. I shed a couple tears because I didn't know what was wrong with me, I stopped around the 1.5 mile mark, and limped onto the sidewalk. I ripped off my number and just kept walking, watching all of the runners go by. I thought, "Just five days ago I was running like a beast, throwing down PRs left and right...now I can't flipping run at all." I walked to my car, sat for a moment and cried. 

I vented on social media that night, and thought about the worst case scenario thanks to Dr. Google. The next day, I was proactive. I needed to see a new chiropractor and get all the help I could get because I knew that asking Dr. Google wasn't going to do my leg and psyche any good. For the past two months or so, my body has been overcompensating, and it finally hit me. My new chiropractor made a great analogy...when someone gets a cavity, they don't think back to the piece of candy they ate two months ago and say they shouldn't have eaten it. It makes total sense. All this time, I was only brushing the outer surfaces of my teeth. Neglecting to provide care for the inner surfaces and entire package, it finally hit me. I got a cavity and it finally started to hurt.  

The morning after my first visit with the new doc, I immediately noticed an improvement in my leg. My massage therapist had been out of town when I needed her the most, so I decided to see a mobility specialist and get some Graston and ART treatment that morning. I saw my new doc again on Friday, and by the time Sunday morning came rolling along, I felt like a new person. I was able to race without any pain or unusual discomfort. With all that I went through all week, emotionally and physically, I was pretty happy with how things went. The moral of the story, don't believe everything you see on the internet. Ok, no....what works for one person doesn't necessarily work for another person. Find what's best for you based on your needs and physical demands. If something doesn't feel right, seek help immediately and explore your options...the strong can only go so far without proper and complete TLC.

When expectations are thrown to the ground and shattered into pieces, it's tough to keep your head held high. I don't go to races just to finish; to be honest, that's not the intention for elite athletes. Although, that's what it might come down to at the end of the day because there's no other option other than choosing to DNF. 

We go to win...which can mean several things depending on the depth of the race. (For you road cyclists that don't know much about the Ironman 70.3 series, they're equivalent to World Cup races to earn points to qualify for the World Championships.) Winning can mean being the first to cross the line, finishing in the top 5, top 10 or in the money...but anything beyond that is simply a disappointing day. So, to be even more brutally honest, we don't like to hear, "Good job" or "Well, you finished and that's what matters most" because in the heat of the moment, finishing isn't the most important thing...it's just the nature of the beast. But sometimes, it is. 

There are three races where I've "called it a day," all for legitimate reasons. I mean, really...some of you might remember what I put myself through in 2009. Anyway, I knew early on during the race that it wasn't going to be my day. I'm sure I can pinpoint a bunch of reasons, but sometimes it's simply too overwhelming to accept how much you suck. I wanted to quit so, so bad. I was hoping for a nonrecoverable mechanical so I had a good reason to call it quits. It's a bad sign when you start to THINK during a race. The best races happen when you don't think at all...you just go. When I started to read the signs that some of the spectators put up on the bike course, I knew things were continually going downhill. My favorite sign was, "Follow me, I know a shortcut." It led towards a ditch.

I didn't have a mechanical, an injury, or an illness. So, why'd I finish? Whether you win or suck, no one really cares as much as you do. However, finishing is more respectable than a DNF. There are always exceptions, but I believe in finishing what you've started. Athletes should respect themselves that much; bailing on a race because my body just wasn't up for it? How egotistical is that? It would've been easy for me to get out of something really uncomfortable by throwing in the towel, but we all know that every journey is not always pretty...sometimes, pretty ugly. 

Florida 70.3
1.2 mi swim 56 mi bike 13.1 mi run
April 13, 2014

Race report: The swim sucked, the bike portion had its rough spots due to winds, and the run was tough...a 3-loop, very open course that wasn't exactly smooth due to construction. I love warm weather and all, but it was flipping HOT. Initially, I wasn't too thrilled about my result, but then I remembered:  

An ideal week for a full-time triathlete: eat, train, sleep, do over. Most days require a double session, so sleep is essential for proper recovery. 

My typical week: eat, 7.5 hours in school, short nap (skip it if I'm having a good day), train, eat late at night, sleep late because I eat late, wake up early and be exhausted because I went to bed late, do over. By default, I make a terrible morning person, so getting in a training session before school is not an option for me. 

Ideal training location for a full-time triathlete: somewhere warm or conducive to consistent and quality triathlon training. Training camps during the pre-season months are also a common practice. 

My training location: east coast...Pennsylvania faced a tough one this past winter, blessing us with nearly 68" of snow. Being one of the longest and coldest one around, it even pissed off some snow lovers. I'm tired enough as it is when I get home from school, so trying to get motivated to go ride in a dreary and windy 20 degrees was a challenge. With limited daylight, riding in the dark was also a norm. My level of motivation for getting in a pool after riding or running in the cold: close to 0. 

The swim was stupid fast. We swam in the Savannah River going downstream, so it was no surprise. The race organizers had us dive off the floating dock for the start; since I don't race ITU races, this was my first dive-in start…pretty exciting! I've had better days on the bike and I've had worse, but I tried my best to stay focused when things got rough. That is all. 

Having the third fastest run time at 1:24 (6:28/mi pace), the run was the best part of my race. I usually don't throw out numbers, but I was particularly proud of this one. How I managed to do that is beyond (except for the fact that I've been burying myself in track sessions) me because I usually have one of the faster bike splits and slower run times. My legs felt great for the run, my splits were consistent, I didn't get any side stickers, and the crowds in Downtown Augusta were amazing. When a spectator spends her entire day on a megaphone shouting, "Work that sexy body," you can't help but smile and have a good time...it's the little things.

Quakerman "Half" 9/7/13
1.2mi swim, 58mi bike, 13.1mi run

Imagine waking up one morning and deciding to go to the nearest state park to do your own triathlon. No one around, just you and other tri geeks, the road, and normal traffic. That's what it was like on Saturday. I guess it all worked out in the end because my intention for this event was to use it as a training race. No taper, just go out there and race hard. I also had the goal of beating all the boys. Hey, when you aim, aim high. 

When I arrived in Lake Nockamixon, I could't resist the beautiful view of the sun rising above the morning fog. The air was crisp, I could see my breath, but I knew that eventually the sun would come out and keep all the athletes comfortably warm. Boy, did it turn out to be a beautiful day. 

The nice thing about a race that doesn't attract say, close to 2,000 people, you can use the marina's bathroom without waiting in line. All of you that have pre-race poops understand why I was so excited about this. 

No matter the size of a field, I always seem to get tangled with at least one person at the swim start. Whoever was in front of me, I didn't mean to slow you down, but you were just in my way. The swim was great, the lake was calm, and the course was simple and difficult to mess up. Two guys were ahead of me, one of them 17 seconds ahead, but all three of us were in transition at the same time after the swim exit. Seriously, guys...what was taking you so long? I was first out of transition, leading the bike for the entire race, only to be caught with 2 miles to go. No, wait…make that with 4 miles to go because the course was an extra 2 miles.

The bike leg was very taxing on my body and mental state. The winds seemed to change direction on different parts of the course, even though there were only a total of 4 turns per lap. It annoyed the sh*t out of me. It was also difficult to get a consistent rhythm due to the nature of the course…and most importantly, there were only a handful of spectators. Boooorrrrring.   

I racked my bike, and as soon as I bent down to put on my sneaks, my right quad seized for about 5 seconds. My eyes got bug-eyed, but I was able to shake it out, never to be seen again. If you've ever gotten a charlie horse, that's what it felt like. So I see the lead guy leaving transition, and my plan was to secretly creep up on him during the latter half by keeping a comfortable distance between us for the first half. Well, he missed a little turn early in the run, allowing him to see me on his heels. He picked up the pace on the first gradual hill, and I fought all day trying to chase after him...

He was not giving in one bit. I felt better and better as the race went on, so my last hope was for him to start fading. Nothing! The whole entire run, I could see him, just pissing me off. Looking at my splits, I was probably really frustrated after about 10k, busting out my fastest split. It was great getting encouragement from other athletes out on course…it's what kept me going. Still, I couldn't catch him. Frustrating to say the least, but the side sticker with 3-4 miles to go was all worth it because I fought. I sounded ridiculous trying to control my breathing, but I kept at it and fought. He finished just about a minute ahead of me, so I thought, "Maybe if I was able to push myself just a tad bit harder on the bike." Shoulda, coulda, yea, yea. Ugh, I wanted it so bad.  

As I reflected on my day, I was very happy with how things have been coming around. Dropping over 8 minutes on the run from Boulder (with better fitness and happy feet), I'm feeling great and confident going into my next 70.3 series race in Augusta, GA! This time, I'm chasing after the money, not the boys.