The next stop on my little “tour de mat leave” was Cartagena, Colombia.
Baby—and fall—can come any day now.
Taking stock of the past 36 weeks.
That time I traveled a long, long way to almost DNF my first Ironman.
Eight random musings on another trip around the sun, and to another start line.
Kona, it's nice to finally meet you.
Making Ironman memories in the land of jamon and jellyfish.
Tomorrow morning I’m hoping to claw my way through my seventh Ironman race. As my friend Ryan put it so eloquently, anticipation is the sweetest part: “because you can still dream about a great day.” The thing is, for this one I haven’t been dreaming…
On Sunday I did two-thirds of a half of a thing. Here's how it helped me feel full again.
The flavour-du-jour of my triathlon season so far.
I went south, only to find out that the Bear Republic still has its claws in me.