The Wake-Up Call: 14 weeks to St. George

This weekend I travelled to St. George, Utah to check out the Ironman St. George course.  The trip was organized by Durapulse and they graciously allowed us to join in their weekend training camp.  It was a slow start with a very long drive up to Utah, via Flagstaff and the very desolate roads skirting the Grand Canyon.  We arrived late afternoon and after a quick stop to view the reservoir (should be a nice one loop swim, with the potential for strong current due to gusty winds) we drove the first 20 miles of the bike ride en route to our hotel. 

I took copious notes as we drove so that I could formulate the best possible training for the remaining 14 weeks until race day.  So the first 20 miles looks like this (which you will understand if you live in Arizona..) 2 mile climb, not as steep as Usery.  Small Shea climb with a 6% Mt Lemmon decline.  Palisades and Shea climbs.  Flat.  Quick short hill.  Flat.  About 1 1/2- 2 miles of Shea and Palisades climbing.  Downhill.  Flat.  So in other words, rolling, punchy hills. 

After checking into the hotel, we went for a run on the course.  Like the bike course, there is really no flat ground to speak of.  If you can imagine for a moment, the course is run in the shape of an 'M', with a little diagonal out-and-back at the end on a street (ironically) named Diagonal.  The loop is run a total of 3 times during the marathon.  For the recon on Friday, my cousin and I ran one loop.  Each leg of the 'M' is downhill, turnaround and come back up hill, across the top of the M, and then down the next leg, turn around and come back up hill, across the top, then down the next leg.  You get the idea.  After the third leg of the M you continue the up hill to the top of Diagonal and then turn around and come back down. 

I really, really like this run course.  I am not much of a fan of flat ground when you have to cover 26 miles.  My muscles tend to really fatigue with the repetitive motion.  With the up and down hills, I am constantly changing which muscles I'm using, and thus allowing the opposite muscles to rest.  Plus, given the shape of the course, spectators will be all over the place and the family we have in town will literally be able to see us every 2 miles.  That's 12 times in one marathon, plus the finish line.  Even IMAZ doesn't have it that good. 

After our run, we changed into swim suits to hit a local pool.  I think we knocked out a quick 1500 meters, did a couple of 100 meter relays and then hit the water slides before we called it a day.  We ended Friday with some pizza and hit the racks by 9 pm.

On Saturday morning, the forecast showed temperatures in the low 30s.  This really concerned us as we prepared for our biking tour of the course.  However, within a couple of miles I realized I was really overdressed for the amount of effort I was putting out and tied my jacket around my waist.  I handed over my gloves to the sag vehicle and rode the course in a base layer and my jersey. 

The bike ride was nothing less than eye-opening.  A wake up call.  We started from our hotel and wove through town following the course through one loop.  I got a total of 47 miles in, averaging... wait for it....  14 miles per hour.  Yes, you heard me correctly.  14 mph.  14.  I know.  Hard to believe that one can actually bike that slowly.  But yes.  14 mph.  (Can you tell I'm struggling with this reality?)

It went like this:  we leave hotel.  Durapulse group takes off.  I, already dropped, follow.  Once we get out of town, it is just a relentless, slow climb for about 30 miles.  Mentally, it's very debilitating because it looks flat.  You're not climbing mountains.  There are no switchbacks.  There are really no hills to speak of for most of it.  You think you should be going faster, but you can't.  And then there is the wind.  Oh, blustery wind.  Head wind.  Cross winds.  No, no tail winds.  Just varying degrees of every other possible angle.  Wind. 

The countryside is quite interesting.  And believe me, I had plenty of time to take it all in.  The hills are stark, bare, rocky.  It's desolate.  And then you'll drop into a gorgeous little valley with acres of green grass, and a white picket fence.  Or cross a little bridge over a small creek.  Not breathtaking, but beautiful nonetheless.  I believe we had about 4 actual hills which provided a much needed break from the relentless false flat.  I'm not sure where this "wall" was that people speak of.  Or the switchbacks.  I guess when you are used to switchbacks related to climbing a mountain, it is easy to overlook a small hill climb.  (I think it's maybe the U-turn that sparks the use of the term related to this course.)  Either way, the course was much harder than I expected in the relentless, gradual uphill.  And much easier than I expected in that there are really very few climbs to speak of. 

And in the same way, the "fast downhill" to the finish has been overrated as well.  When we reached the town of Veyo, I retrieved my gloves for the descent back to St. George.  We were told, one more hill before the descent.  So we cruised up the highway in a very similar ascent to the beeline, maybe a touch steeper, for about a mile and then.... it flattens out.  There's no smokin' downhill.  I keep waiting and waiting.  And waiting.  Don't get me wrong, my average pace went from 10 to 20 mph.  But we were by no means going down a mountain. 

Finally, we see a sign that indicates a 6% grade is coming.  So I put my jacket back on and glove up in preparation.  And really, it wasn't much.  There were a couple of steep sections but it wasn't nearly the mountain that I had built up in my head.  I was expecting Mt. Lemmon.  I think I got Usery. 

So the bottom line is this:  I have a lot of work to do.  But it's a different sort of work that I had expected.  I am going to focus my training on becoming mentally prepared for the unending effort that will be required from mile 20 to 50 and from mile 70-100.  I think Mt. Lemmon will be key, not for the sort of climbing that is required, but just in putting forth solid effort for 20 miles at a time.  And I will spend plenty of time in Fountain Hills, on McDowell Mountain Road, and repeats up 9-mile. 

After returning to the hotel, somewhat dejected, we changed into our running shoes for a quick transition run.  I did 2 legs of the 'M' and figured out that it took about 1 1/2 miles for my legs not to feel like Jell-o.  I figure I can at least double this for race day.  However, it was nice to start on a downhill, and the changing up and down did again provide relief for my legs. 

After stretching we said goodbye to the Durapulse group as they were heading back to the Valley.  We showered and headed out for a much deserved lunch at Great Harvest Bread Company.  They did not disappoint.  We spent the afternoon lounging by the pool and soaking in the hot tub.  We found a great little Mexican restaurant for dinner. 

On Sunday morning, we got up early for our long run.  I had planned to do 2 1/2 hours.  So I ran one 'M', made a quick stop the hotel to pick up my cousin who ran the last 1 1/2 hours with me.  We ran one full loop of the course and finished with a total of 15.5 miles.  I ran much slower on Sunday, but a strong consistent pace throughout the 2 1/2 hours.  And if I can match that pace on race day, I'll be a very happy girl.

After breakfast we hit the road for home, this time via Las Vegas which proved to be much faster.  After soaking in everything from the weekend and realizing that I have a lot of work to do in a very short amount of time, I have decided to forgo attempting another marathon.  At this point, it's more important for me to be as well prepared for IM St. George as I can possibly be.  In order to do that, I need to focus on building my endurance, strength on the bike, and getting some good long bike rides in.  If I am worried about training for a marathon, and being well rested and properly tapered, that goes against everything I need to be doing for IM. 

Se la vie.  Or if you prefer:  I've made my bed, now I must lie in it.  Trust me, no one is more disappointed than I am about not being able to run Boston in 2013, but the last thing I want to do is have another bad race (ie: St. George).  So I will become one with my bicycle in the next 14 weeks.  If I am not on my bicycle, I will be thinking about my bicycle.  Dreaming about her.  Visualizing the course.  Preparing mentally, physically, emotionally for the beating I will give St. George in May. 

I Knee-d to Run!

I suck at being injured.  I am cranky.  I complain.  I feel fat.  It just plain sucks. 

So here's the deal on the knee...  and keep in mind that I'm not a doctor or a PT, so this is my interpretation of what was explained to me.  I noticed that when I said "my knee gave out" last weekend, I got a lot of strange looks.  No one seemed to understand what I meant.  Or they thought I had some IT band pain or whatever.  I knew that it was not my IT band... I've had issues with that before.  My knee actually "gave out" and my leg collapsed out from underneath me while I was running.  I physically could not bear weight on my leg while running.  Obviously I could still walk, which is why it was probably so confusing to people. 

Anyway, I saw my PT on Wednesday and explained what happened ("my leg collapsed!  my knee gave out!).  He poked and prodded and easily found the tender spot on my patellar tendon.  He explained to me that the patellar tendon is the tendon that connects the quadriceps muscle to the tibia.  (Tendons connect muscle to bone, ligaments connect bone to bone.)  So basically, as I was running along, by some freak twist of fate, my tendon was pulled in just the right way between my patella and tibia that it inactivated my quadriceps muscle.  Apparently, this is one of the body's many protective mechanisms and a tendon has the ability during acute injury to shut down the muscle to which it associates.  In my case, the quadriceps.  A muscle very necessary for running. 

So I wasn't crazy.  At least not about my leg collapsing.  When my quadriceps was inactivated, the leg in running stance will collapse because it is the quad that holds the leg up.  He reassured me that there was no long term problem and I was doing all the right things to strengthen the muscle, bone, and tendon.  He told me I could continue running, but I would probably struggle with downhills.  He didn't know how right he was.  (Or maybe he did... that's why I'm paying him the big bucks.)

He did a little bit of my favorite torture (ASTYM) and taped up my knee with kinesio tape and sent me on my way.  I ran comfortably on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.  On Saturday I was supposed to run a 31k trail race.  I told myself that I'd see how I felt and I could always bail on one of the shorter loops if needed. 

So I started the Coldwater Rumble on Saturday with high hopes.  I felt great until 2 miles in when we hit the first big downhill.  Instantly, my knee rebelled.  I was forced to walk the downhills, and many of the rocky not-so-down hills.  It.  Sucked.  I am used to bombing the downhills.  Hills are my strength.  I eat hills for breakfast.  Uphill.  Downhill.  I have worked really hard all year to make hills my strength when trail running. 

To be reduced to a walk was demoralizing, and just no fun.  The first aid station was about 6 miles in.  At that point I knew that I was taking the easy way out... the 19k option.  My girlfriends (who all ran the marathon last weekend) opted to shortcut with me sighting various reasons.  But I knew without me, they would have hauled butt through the 31k.  I was thankful to have them running stride for stride with me.  And the 19k provided some amazing views and one HUGE climb- which I loved.  But at the end of the day, I couldn't wait to get off the trail as 12 miles in 2 1/2 hours was just miserably slow.

I normally don't look forward to getting off the trail, but I just couldn't take a comfortable step with all the rocks and downhills on the trail.  So, I'll be sticking to flat ground for a while until I am completely OK to run downhill.  Hopefully within 2 weeks cause I've got another trail race planned...

Spades

Let's be honest here and call it what it is. 

D.N.F.

You might say, "did nothing fatal."  But a spade is a spade.  I "did not finish."  Again.  On the same course. 

I have never quit a race, ever, except for the PF Chang's Rock and Roll Arizona Marathon.  Twice. 

Those of you who knew me 3 years ago probably remember how devastated I was after that DNF.  (See:  http://runnerchick-skirtgirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-life-gives-you-lemonsmake.html)  I developed a hip flexor strain 2 weeks before the marathon and dealt with the pain for 19 miles.  When the 3:40 group passed me (my goal had been to qualify for Boston for the first time) I elected to drop out and try again once I was healthy.  I enrolled in physical therapy.  6 weeks later, I qualified for Boston at the Napa Valley Marathon.  It was a smart decision but I cried for days.  I was heart broken.  I had worked so hard for so long with a singular focus.  I can feel the pain (in my heart) today as sharply as I felt it 3 years ago.

This time around, it was almost comical.  Almost.  It became almost a joke that I've lived here for 7 years and never ran the marathon.  (I actually did run with a friend one year... but I was running her pace, not mine.  She's come a long way since then, but we were moving pretty slowly.)

I was doing great.  I was trail running all year and became so strong.  I ran PR's in all my tune up races and I knew I was on track to run a PR marathon.  Until October when my world turned upside down.  I no longer had the luxury of time.  Valuable time needed for track workouts, long runs.  My weeks were all over the board.  If I was lucky I had a 50 mile week.  But that would be followed by several weeks where I struggled to find time to hit 20 miles.  The bottom line is, I wasn't prepared.

I didn't give up on my goal, however.  I decided that I would go out at goal pace and see what happened.  I told myself I'd be happy with my time no matter what it was.  But secretly, I had a BIG goal in mind. 

I went out strong and held a 7:45 pace.  Consistent mile after mile after mile.  I have never paced myself so well.  It was beautiful.  I passed the half way mark in 1:42, exactly on target.  And then, out of nowhere, my left leg gave out from underneath me.  Keep in mind that my feet are on the ground for a matter of seconds during each stride.  One stride I am fine.  The next stride, my left foot hits the ground and my knee gives out and my leg can't hold me up.  I nearly fell but caught myself.  I stood back up and tried to run, but couldn't.  I physically could. not. run. 

It wasn't a matter of 'being smart' and 'listening to my body'.  I could not run.  It wasn't like I was tired and fatigued and could push through the pain.  I could not run.  And there was no way in hell I was walking the last 13 miles.  No offense is meant to anyone who walks during a marathon, or walks an entire marathon.  However, I have finished enough marathons and today wasn't about just finishing. 

After I dropped out I had to hang out at the medical tent on course for about an hour or so waiting for the shuttle to pick me up.  I got to cheer on all my friends out on the course.  I loved seeing their smiling faces and even a little struggle as they endured.  I am envious. 

I'll be back to rehab this week to figure out what the deal is.  My suspicion is this:  my body does best with consistency.  This is why I consistently train year round.  I may take an off season and focus more on base and less on mileage/ speed, but I am active year round.  After October, my activity level significantly decreased to the point where everything began to tighten up.  No matter how much I stretched or foam rolled, my muscles were just big knots.  When your muscles tighten up, they put strain on tissues.  I believe that all of this is a minor setback related to my muscles being tight.  I need a massage. 

I tell myself that it's no big deal.  And it's not really.  Though the lump in my throat would indicate that I feel otherwise.  I'm disappointed.  But this doesn't impact who I am as an athlete.  I have not lost my confidence or my passion or my drive.  I have a completely full schedule this spring and summer.  I would love to say there will be time to squeeze in another marathon.  And maybe there will be.  But there might not be and then I will have to say goodbye to my dream of going back to Boston next year. 

After I made it back to the finish line, I found my husband, my cousin and his GF in the VIP tent.  We hung out for a bit and warmed up, refueled.  We watched the clock and when it got close to time, we went out to the last stretch to watch our friends come through.  My good friend, who only started running a year ago, ran her first marathon.  It was the perfect counter to my day, to watch her come through, smiling all the way.  She rocked the Rock n Roll in 4:42, and loved every mile.  Her positive attitude is the key to her success and I have no doubt that she'll be back for more.  I feel honored to have trained with her and watched her blossom.  She inspires me to continue to be passionate and love running simply for the gift that it is.       

Dedication

Do people still request songs on the radio?  Do you remember Delilah?  (De-Li-Laaaaahhh)  Music, like the written word, is an expression of our human emotions.  It can be angry, or sad, or pump-me-up.  It can get you in the mood or pick you up when you're down.  It can make you run faster or slower.  I love when music makes you feel something.  (Which is probably why I'm a huge Eminem fan-  you can just feel his passion.)

Today I received some devestating news from a friend.  She is going through some personal trauma that is just shy of Hell.  I was taken a little by surprise by my reaction to her news.  Not that I wouldn't be upset for her... but I literally went from boiling mad to crying my eyes out (at work no less). 

I find that in these situations, when there is little to be said that can relieve the pain, music helps.  You can close your eyes, get lost in the melody and cry your eyes out.  Following are the lyrics of a beautiful song, with a haunting melody, that captures the sadness and emptiness that we all go through at one time or another.  And I want her to know that when she's lost, I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.     

Song lyrics by Everything But the Girl, We Walk the Same Line.

If you lose your faith, babe, you can have mine. 
If you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

Now I don't have to tell you how slow the night can go,
I know you've watched for the light. 

And I bet you could tell me how slowly four follows three,
And you're most forlorn just before dawn.

If you lose your faith, babe, you can have mine.
If you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

When it's dark, baby, there's a light I'll shine.
And if you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

And I don't need reminding how loud the phone can ring,
When you're waiting for news.

And that big ol' moon lights every corner of the room.
Your back aches from lying, and your head aches from crying.

So if you lose your faith, babe, you can have mine.
If you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

When it's dark, baby, there's a light I'll shine. 
And if you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

And if these troubles should vanish, like rain at midday, well I've no doubt there'll be more.
And we can't run and we can't cheat, cause baby when we meet what we're afraid of,
We find out what we're made of.

So if you lose your faith, babe, you can have mine.
If you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

When it's dark, baby, there's a light I'll shine.
And if you're lost I'm right behind.  Cause we walk the same line.

Words to Live By

We all have secrets.  I have a secret little notebook that I carry with me.  It's smallish.  Maybe 3" x 4".  There's nothing special about it.  Except for what's in it.  Every time I come across something that motivates me... I write it down.  Over the years I've accumulated quite a little bit of inspiration that I can pull out when the going gets tough or I just need a little kick in the pants.  Things that inspire me might be lyrics from a song, or a quote from a article or famous person, or it might be something that my husband says out of the blue. 

As I fight the continuous battle to stay positive though some days I really just feel like crawling under the covers and sulking, I find myself turning the pages of this book more and more frequently.  It reminds me to 'suck it up buttercup' and to keep moving one day at a time.  I never cheat myself into thinking that things can't possibly get any worse.  (Trust me.  They can.)  I have to just take things where I'm at and do what I can to get by. 

Anyone who's followed my blog over the years has probably noticed a significant trend toward the negative in the last few months.  I promise I'm not bipolar, or manic-depressive, as my posts swing from relentlessly positive to down in the dumps.  It's simply my way of coping and trying to bring myself out of a bad mood.  I write to express my feeling, get them out in the open and then move on.

Today I wanted to share what inspires me.  Picks me up.  Motivates me.  Gets me out the door.  Puts a smile on my face.  And extend an invitation for you to share what inspires you.

Limitations are mental and self imposed.   Bob Moad, Edge Learning Institute

If you only had one shot, one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted, in one moment, would you capture it?  Or just let it slip?   Eminem


Normal, comfortable people rarely accomplish extraordinary things.  A Step Beyond


 

When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place.

Pressure is nothing more than the shadow of great opportunity.  Michael Jordan


Real pain is sitting around all your life wondering what pain tastes like.  Samantha McGlone

Some people follow their dreams.  Others hunt them down and beat them mercilessly into submission.  Niel Kendall

I'm gonna ride that bitch like fucking Lance tomorrow.  Lieto better look out. 
Dan before IMAZ '10

I am not a 'good runner' because I am me.  I am a good 'me' because I am a runner.
Kristin Armstrong

When you want to be successful at something as bad as you want to breathe when someone is holding your head underwater, then you will be successful.  You must really want it with every fiber of your being. 

Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.  Hebrews 12:1


It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.  I want to know what you ache for.  It doesn't interest me how old you are.  I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.  I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still shout at the edges of a lake, river, or mountain YES!  It doesn't interest me where you live or how much money you make.  I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for someone you love.  I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life.   John Blais

Ringing in the New Year

I haven't celebrated New Year's Eve in a very long time.  I'm going to say 1998 probably.  Maybe not even that recently.  (Except for one fluke NYE in 2005 shortly after I met my husband, and boy did we celebrate...Yikes.)  It's not that I don't love NYE.  But I've always been working or sleeping at the stroke of midnight.  I remember the millennium new year.  I was working in the ICU.  Everyone thought we were going to lose power (Y2K and all that jazz).  My (then) boyfriend came down and we snuck into the wards for a kiss.  That was about the extent of my celebration. 

Now, my husband and I like to celebrate our New Year's by getting up early and hopping on the bike before there is any traffic out on the road.  (If I weren't working I'd be out there right now with him...)  The morning air on the first of January is crisp and cool and very refreshing.  The air is filled with hope and dreams and resolutions of personal betterment. 

I consider it fate, or destiny, that last night I woke up at 12:55 am.  Just in time for registration of the Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile Endurance Run which opened at 1 am.  I missed the ball dropping.  I missed the midnight hour.  I kissed my husband at 10:30 pm just before we drifted off to sleep.  As if my mind was programed, I woke up and glanced at my clock with 5 minutes to spare.  Not that I needed to register at 1 am.  If it's anything like last year it will still be several weeks before the race sells out.  But this is my numero uno goal for the year, and what if it DID sell out??  Then I would have been totally bummed. 

So as we muddle through life on January 1, 2012, I sit content knowing that my goal is in reach and a mere 6 1/2 months away.  To obtain the air that angels breathe, you must go to Tahoe.  (Mark Twain)  I'm on my way, baby.  I'm on my way. 

Turning the Page

In 2011 I:

*Swam 320,600 yds/m (104 hours).
*Biked 3768 miles (223 hours).
*Ran 1665 miles (272 hours).
*Strength trained 44 hours.
*Participated in "other" activities for 76 hours.  (This would include yoga, hiking, paddleboarding, etc.)
*Have been diligent about physical therapy for injury prevention and maintenance. (Thank you Endurance Rehabilitation!)
*Raced 4 half marathons, and set a new PR (1:35:47).
*Raced 7 trail races including my very first 50k and 50 miler.
*Had the most fun running Ragnar Del Sol on an ultra team (I ran 37 miles divided over 3 legs in a 24 hour period).
*Raced 6 triathlons (it was a slow year I guess) including 2 sprints, 3 half IM, and one IM.
*Raced a 4.2 miler (Pat's Run) and a 5k (Sally's Run) setting PRs at both distances.
*Raced one marathon, and set a 3:37:46 PR (Big Sur Marathon).
*Walked 60 miles in 3 days for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure.
*Hiked with my mom through the Grand Canyon for 3 days.
*Vacationed in Hawaii.  Twice. 
*Vacationed with my family in Pebble Beach.
*Travelled to Coeur D'Alene, Oceanside, Monterey, Tahoe, Show Low, Flagstaff, and all over the Valley of the Sun for races.  
*Learned a lot about myself and who I want to be.

When I look back at 2011 I see all the opportunities that I had to enjoy my family in ways that some people never get to do.  I consider hiking across the Grand Canyon with my mom one of my lifetime highlights.  Not many people can say they did that.  Sure, lots of people visit the Grand Canyon.  But when you step below the rim, you find out what you're made of... and watching my mom enjoy every single step showed me exactly how life should be embraced.  With passion.  And joy.  Even when the going gets tough. 

I got to spend a week in California with my sisters and our husbands/ boyfriend.  Its been a long time since the three of us have spent quality time together.  We lead very different lives and sometimes it's difficult to find a connection.  We all recognized the need to re-connect, as adults, in a neutral territory.  Our vacation was 2 years in the making and I believe that we all had a wonderful time, even though we'll always have our differences.  We shared laughs and made memories that we'll carry through life.  ('Beav for the Maj'...   guess you had to be there..  ;-)

And every day that I wake up next to my husband, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  Every adventure I embark on, he's there.  But he's also there for the every day.  The dishes laundry get dinner on the table take out the trash grab the mail scoop the litter box every day life.  When life gets busy and we have less time together, we are reminded to make the most of every minute.  I kiss him every morning before I leave the house and he kisses me hello when we return every night.  We snuggle in front of my favorite show on television (Bones.  Duh.) and we chat in the darkness after all the lights are out before drifting off to sleep.  I sometimes think back to when I was married before and I thought I "knew" he (my ex) was the one.  But this is completely different.  It's the most natural partnership in the world.  I didn't have to "know" anything because it just is.  It's like we've always been a part of each other and always will be. 

Looking forward to 2012 I:
*Am excited about going back to Tahoe for the 50 miler.  I am even excited about training for the 50 and seeing if I can be better prepared for the elevation and terrain (now that I know what I'm getting into.)

*Am excited about St. George!  I love a challenge.  This race has never sold out because (some speculate) it's too hard.  Huh?  It's Ironman.  How can it be "too hard"?  And with the family throwdown on the line, its going to be epic.

*Am excited about all the little adventures I'll have along the way with my husband and my friends.  Since my husband and I made a "no travel" pact for 2012 (meaning, we're only going places we can drive to in an effort to recover from last year's travel and save for 2013 travel) we will have more adventures around the valley and hopefully Flagstaff and the GC.  (Did I mention that yours truly got a new pair of tracks that will allow me to hike safely through snow packed trails?  Bring on the GC in winter!)

*Am reminded how much I want be in my life every moment.  I watch some people (one in particular) who go through life merely spectating.  Never embracing life.  Walking through each day, doing what has to be done, but never having a passion or a purpose or even a goal.  That is the most sad realization of all.  Yes, there are days when I feel like I'm just getting by.  But usually something lights my fire.  A gorgeous sunrise during a bike ride.  Jumping in the chilly outdoor pool after a long swim.  A text message from a friend just to say hello.  It's the little things, I've realized, that make life worth living. 

So as we turn the page on our calendar tonight, I wish you all a happy, safe, joyous 2012.