Two Hours, Two Lessons

Sunday I had a simple two hour ride, and being tired of the road (I use "road" loosely here because I am in Montana) decided to take Alma on her maiden Montanan voyage. Little did I know that I would learn two very important lessons. The first lesson I learned is that being a good climber in South Carolina doesn't really mean much. Apparently South Carolina is flat. It's been awhile since I've had to dismount my bike to catch my breath, only to be confronted with the very real likelihood that I would have difficulty regaining the paltry amount of moment I formerly had having unclipped. After several tries I was able to get going again but the blood pouring out of my eyes was a constant reminder of exactly how much fitness I have to gain. The second lesson I learned is what that tiny chainring, the one all of the way on the inside is exactly for. It's for a desperate, pleading and humiliatingly slow ascent, the kind where you work just as hard to keep your front wheel on the ground as to keep consciousness. I love living here, and so does Alma.

Montana: 1
Me: 0

Possibilities and Potentialities

Today I fell in love with running, again. Once I get the first few weeks of out of shape running done, this always seems to happen. This was my longest scheduled run in a really long time due to injuries, even though I have gone rogue a couple times for my own selfish indulgences, and it was fantastic. It was cold and there was still some ice on the trail but the sun was shining and having completed two full weeks of run training without an inkling of injury I felt like the world was my oyster. Today I ran on possibilities and potentialities.

Missoula, Montana

At the risk of stating the obvious, I have moved to Missoula, Montana. I spent my Junior year of college here and it was the best year of my life. I moved here for the express purpose of traing for triathlon... not even racing. I left a tremendous racing position in South Carolina with the Set Up Events Go Tri Sports Team in order to be here. Missoual is not large, but it has become a true mecca of professional and outstanding age group triathletes, most of whom I am grateful to call my friends. So far, it has not disappointed.