don’t cry for me, Argentina
That time I traveled a long, long way to almost DNF my first Ironman.
That time I traveled a long, long way to almost DNF my first Ironman.
On sore quads and a newly ignited love for trail running.
One Sunday in Whistler, I learned that dreams really do come true.
Key elements to any meaningful pursuit, and in this case, my sixth Ironman.
Getting the 11-hour monkey off my back — in Europe's home of little mermaids and tall tales.
On the flip side of the finish line, I can report that I race better with a laser-like focus than I do when scattered like paper cups on a windy run course.
Experimentation, guesswork, and one saving grace bike ride.
The triathlon season came in like a lion for us Southern Californians. Does that mean it will go out like a lamb?