Life Begins at the End of Your Comfort Zone

The race bib doesn't lie!

It’s safe to assume a majority of people think endurance athletes are crazy. Why spend so much time devoted to a sport where even on your best day you might rank 300^th out of 700 athletes? Why wake up at 5 a.m. and spend two hours on a stationary trainer and then rush home from work to log a 10 mile run? You might have friends and peers that find your constant training talk annoying and sometimes obsessive. Triathlons are addicting, motivating, inspiring. But if I’m going to be addicted to something, you better believe I’m thrilled that it’s waking up with the sunrise on a morning run.  The multisport lifestyle in a lot of ways defines who I am even off my bike. I’m strong, dedicated and hungry for life.

I don’t think triathlon is for everyone, but I strongly believe that living a healthy life is fueled by fitness.

“You rarely regret the runs you do; you almost always regret the runs you skip”

I think a lot of people get intimidated by fitness – taking that first step to tackle running around the block is challenging. In high school I refused to run with my older sister and Mom. I couldn’t keep up with their pace, shoot I could barely make it around the block without walking. I’d walk home defeated and upset. Overtime though I was able to build up, one mile to three, three miles to six and so on. I ran my first marathon in 2009, I qualified for 70.3 Ironman World Championships in 2010. Forgive me if I don’t buy the excuse, “I’m not a natural runner.” I’m not saying you need to get crazy with it, but no matter how fast or slow you run, you’re always lapping the person sitting at home on the couch.

My favorite Facebook messages, emails, tweets and texts to receive are from friends sharing their interest in tackling their first half-marathon or triathlon and reaching out for advice. I think I always respond with, “do one and you’ll be hooked.” The endurance sport community is one of the most supportive and inspiring networks out there. Compete in one race and I know you’ll agree. You make friends with your fellow competitors; you follow their successes and support them during their defeats.

There are races when I question my own sanity when the pain seems too much and days that I don’t feel like a pool workout after a long day at work – but I know at the end of the day I’m successful in my career, relationships and finding ultimate happiness because I swim, bike and run through life.

“I’m not telling you it’s going to be easy, I’m telling you it’s going to be worth it.”

"Look Mom, I can run more than 1/2 mile without stopping!"

"Dreams really do come true." - Cinderella

I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day.

One of my besties, Ashley, shared this quote with me after she read my first post. I couldn’t agree more.

"Belle taught me to read, and be kind. Pocahontas taught me to see past skin, and differences. Ariel taught me to chase my dreams to the very end. Jasmine taught me to marvel at my self-worth. Mulan taught me the meaning and value of honor. Hercules taught me to be a hero, in my own way. And Simba taught me that death isn't as terrifying as you may guess, and we're never alone.”

I worry for the generation that grows up devoid of these movies. The title of this blog was inspired by Meg from Hercules. In my opinion - she was the beginning of the downfall...too much attitude, Meg!

Ladies, why the attitude nowadays?

A Real Life Hero Tucked Me In Every Night

It would be impossible for me not to reflect on the 10^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. My recent career path led me to an organization that played an active role in commemorating the milestone anniversary  and honoring all the lives lost through acts of service – and so for the last few months it has been a part of my everyday life. You could argue that it’s been a part of all of our everyday lives since the moment the first plane struck the North Tower.

While my main focus on this blog will be to talk about my life as a triathlete, that life is fueled by the love of my family. The way our country responded after Sept. 11 defined who we are as Americans – we united, we grew stronger and we persevered. When I reflect back to that fateful day and the months that followed, I also remember my family – and how it defined us.

Like so many, my family was directly impacted by Sept. 11, but not in the sense that those in New York City, Washington, D.C. and Pennsylvania were. We watched the towers collapse from the safety of our living room, while my Dad was half way around the world serving as Commanding Officer of an F-14 squadron.  Like so many we spent the days following the attacks glued to the television, praying for the lives lost, but we also looked to the future wondering what role our Dad would play in history.

My Dad was two days outside of Singapore en-route to the Persian Gulf to support Operation Southern Watch when he learned our country was under attack. He returned from a night flight and was met planeside by a fellow officer who shared the news. I remember asking my Dad later what his initial thoughts were. He said he was angry that he was a million miles away from the ones he loved with the goal of protecting us, and we had been attacked in our backyard. He felt disconnected, knowing no matter how many times he saw the footage – he couldn’t imagine what we were feeling at home.

I would be lying if I denied wishing and praying that my Dad could come home immediately – I was old enough to realize he was going to be actively involved in the aftermath. He felt for us left behind and how vulnerable we must have been, while they were as he describes “sitting on 90,000 tons of U.S. sovereign territory on the preverbal tip of the sword.”

Without going into too much detail – there’s a good chance my Dad will be written into the history books.  My Dad is my hero not only in the sense that a father is when he has a loving relationship with his children, but a hero for our entire country. He led men and women of our armed forces overseas in response to the attack we suffered on U.S. soil. He stood up for all those who lost their lives on that day, for the children who lost parents and for our country during a time of fear and uncertainty.

One of my favorite sayings is, “behind every strong man is an even stronger woman.” I would argue this until I’m blue in the face when speaking about military spouses, which is where my Mom comes into play. I was 14 years old on Sept. 11. My older sister was 16 and my younger sister was only nine years old. I shared the same fear and uncertainty that the rest of the country experienced during this unknown time, but I don’t remember living in fear of my Dad’s involvement. I owe that peace of mind to the strength my Mom displayed; not only for us girls at home, but for the strength she gave my Dad, letting him know we were well taken care of. I hope that if I am one day tested to that magnitude that the strength my Mom taught me will shine through for my future husband and children.

This past Sunday I spent my day much like I did on Sept. 11, 2001 – in front of a television, glued to the emotional coverage, stories of loss and heroic acts. I realize how blessed I am to be able to call my hero on the phone and tell him I love him – a luxury that more than 3,000 lost 10 years ago and more continue to lose as they fight for our freedom today. It’s a luxury I refuse to take for granted.

I’m not the only one that recognizes my Dad as a hero. If you think I’m biased I hope you’ll take a minute to read an article written shortly after Sept. 11 by Sports Illustrated’s Rick Reilly: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1024036/index.htm

And yes, if you read through to the bottom I’m the princess. Told you so!

Flippin' your fins you don't get too far...legs are required for biking and running.

Ariel was my favorite princess. Maybe because I was a swimmer, maybe because my older sister already claimed Princess Auroa from Sleeping Beauty. I’d spend hours at the pool swimming around with my imaginary green mermaid tail and purple sea shells bra, imagining underwater adventures. And so like many girls I grew up thinking Prince Eric was going to walk down the beach towards me at any moment and shower me with gifts like dinglehoppers. Avid Disney princess fans  - you’ll understand, and for anyone that doesn’t try Urbandictionary.com.

I’m close to the quarter century mark and while I can't say that a genie granted me three wishes and so everything in my life has fallen magically into place, I’d say it’s pretty darn close. I have an amazing family and a wonderful boyfriend, Kelly. Granted when I met him he was sitting on a couch watching football and drinking beer, but as time goes by I’m sure we can add some fluff to the story to resemble Ariel watching Eric from a distant rock and singing “Part of Your World”. Kelly is my prince, my family has made wonderful things happen in my life without the help of a fairy godmother and I get around via a Felt B16 and not a magic carpet. Modern day fairytales really do exist and I’ll argue with anyone that attempts to tell me otherwise.

So if you’re interested in the world of triathlons, nutrition, a little mushy love talk, life in Atlanta and can stomach a Disney reference or three in every post – join me as I swim, bike and run towards my happily ever after.

If you're confused by the title of this post let me enlighten you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBa9QlzEWA4