Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Three years ago marked my first 5k, the Jingle Bell Run. Lovely Beautiful Daughter ran with me to offer encouragement and support if I reached a point of wanting to walk. My goal was to complete the race without resorting to walking. While I wasn't fast by any means, and I can't even remember what my time was, I did jog the entire 3 miles, my daughter at my side. I ran the same race a year later, said no to doing it last November, then said yes to doing it again this year but with the intention of just walking. During these past three years of running, cycling, and swimming, I reconciled myself to the fact that running isn't my strong suit and swimming is just okay. Neither are something that I simply can't wait to do everyday. Walking, however, is much like cycling: I can do each for hours on end, enjoying every single second. So today I walked the three miles to the starting point (which happened to be my place of employment) then walked the 5k, giving me a total of 6...

Two years ago, Hubby and I traveled to Cape Girardeau to participate in the Tour de Shawnee. The Tour being in southern Illinois, I knew there were going to be hills since this area of Illinois is tucked very nicely in between Kentucky and Missouri. The first hill we came to slammed home the fact that the Tour wasn't going to be easy. I looked at Hubby, saying, "See you at the top" and put my head down, intent on making it without having to get off my bike like so many other cyclists were doing. I did make it to the top that day without having to get off my bike, which was the hybrid I'd bought to compete in my first sprint triathlon, and I felt pretty darn good about my accomplishment. That day, Hubby and I finished the metric century together, battling a southerly headwind for 15 miles. I had wanted to ride the 100 miles, but Hubby asked me to stay with him since he was beginning to get tired and bonking at the 50 mile mark. I vowed then and there I would return to ...

Great Blue Heron This morning dawned much cooler than what we've been experiencing the last two weeks. With all the windows open, the bedroom was very chilly, and I had to pull the summer quilt tightly around me to find some warmth. Part of me wanted to get up and ride, but being snuggled under the quilt, still sleepy after a night of hearing several parades of college students walking by between midnight and 3 am, loud and obnoxious, I drifted in and out of snoozing for over an hour. The thought of french toast spurred me to get up and start the day. After breakfast and a quick run to a bike sale in the alley behind some guy's house (still no mountain bike), I finally pulled on the shorts and jersey to set off. Hubby had agreed to meet me up at the lake and ride around it with me, so I started off only to find myself heading straight into a stiff wind. With the cooler temps came the wind, and I felt like I was right back in March when I was prepping for BTUSFMS. Every da...

Today is day 4 of the 30 days of biking challenge. Though the wind was blowing 26 mph with gusts to 32 mph, I ventured out to ride around the lake. Hubby joined me, and though he didn't find battling the wind nearly as fun as I did, he pushed through. The nice thing about today's wind was it wasn't cold. A warm wind on a warm day makes a huge difference in how the ride goes. Today's ride went, as Barney Stinson would put it, "Awesome. Totally." Open Road

Yesterday I rode 71 miles, half straight into a cold, miserable wind. Granted, an 8 mph wind isn't much, but when the air is cold, the combination of cold and wind make for a difficult ride. Because I had already decided to ride at least 70 miles, I wasn't about to quit. Don't get me wrong; I really, really wanted to turn around and return to the comfort of my warm, comfortable home, preferably my cozy, most-likely-still-warm bed. Several times. At mile 14, I stopped to eat some trail mix and drink some water, thinking both would be a pick-me-up. At mile 20, I stopped to sit on a concrete bridge railing, thinking more trail mix and water along with some  contemplation of life would be the magic combination for keeping me going. While I was sitting there, staring down at the murky water below, a man in a gray pickup stopped and said, "Don't jump. You're not high enough." I laughed, saying if I were to jump, I'd only be wet and colder than I already wa...