Big Island Hawaii- Feb 20-March 18

The next month of the journey will be spent in Hawaii with my family and the serious training begins. Typical days include a walk down to the beach, an hour swim in the ocean followed by a long ride. The afternoons are saved for adventures with my family.

Took a day off of training and visited 'turtle island' with Carrie (>5 months pregnant), Sam, Bill and Patty (Sam's parents).

My favorite sign in Hawaii 'Beware of falling coconuts'.

A seal apparently decided he had enough of the ocean and camped out on the beach for awhile.

A day watching humpback whales off of the Kohala coast. March is the end of their birthing season in Hawaii and then they are off to Alaska to feed.

Seattle/Portland- February 16-20

There is no better feeling than flying to visit your very best friend in the world and finally seeing her home, her work, her life and meeting her friends. I had the pleasure of making the next stop in Seattle to spend time with Jenni for 4 days. Jenni and I headed to her house, which overlooks the Seattle skyline and Puget Sound, and enjoyed a glass of wine while starting conversation 1 of 1000 on our list of agenda items. Her fiancé, Keith arrived home and they took me to one of their favourite restaurants (the place they went the night they got engaged), and to their friend Katie’s 30th birthday party.

Saturday's trip to Portland

Saturday morning I had the pleasure of seeing Jenni in her wedding dress (she looks absolutely stunning), and tried on a couple of bridesmaid dresses. Jenni and I walked around the boutique chuckling over some of the gowns laughing about what we would do if the other actually picked something of the sort. We filled the rest of our morning with a trip to Specialties (where the best chocolate chip cookies on the planet are sold), and a quick trip to WAMU so I could see where she spends her hours talking to me on the phone while I’m in England. We then hopped in the car for our trip down to Portland chatting non-stop about all of the topics that we can never seem to get enough of. We arrived at Lea’s house in early afternoon and were greeted by Lea’s 5 week old baby Quinn, her energetic, yet patient dog Boone, her husband Steve, and Amanda Jean, another one of my closest friend’s from childhood. Lea instantly put Quinn in my arms. Although I tend not to get too emotional on most occasions, my eyes filled with tears as I thought through what an incredible moment this was. Lea and I had spent our entire childhood playing with Tallulah (among other cabbage patch kids) and here I was holding her baby, surrounded by friends from different phases of life. It was one of those moments that will be etched in my mind forever.

I spent the next 24 hours catching up with Lea and Amanda about all of life’s occurrences in the years that had so quickly passed us by. I hadn’t spent much time with Amanda since our summer backpacking in Europe in 1999, and hadn’t spent much time with Lea since junior high school. Regardless, it was like no time had passed at all. The same childhood personalities came out with Lea’s laid back and easy going style, and AJ’s comforting nature. I am so thankful that I had the chance to catch up with them reminiscing about our childhoods in Fort Collins, CO.

Back to Seattle

Jenni and I had an action packed agenda when we returned to Seattle. After eating at my dream Mexican restaurant (Mexican food is the one cuisine that I miss tremendously while living in England), Keith, aka 'The Captain', was kind enough to be the SME for our technology night. Uploading ipods, tutorials in Google, and creating a blog were the planned activities of the evening. Keith pre-warned us that there would need to be some drinks involved to get us through such an evening. All was successful and we had a very productive night (as the existence of this blog would indicate).

Jenni showed me all of her favourite spots and we enjoyed a walk around the lake with views of Lake Washington.

Jenni enlightened me to the joys of gourmet cupcakes (as opposed to wedding cake) and we topped the evening off with a delicious meal cooked by Keith (the smoke did not in any way negatively affect the risotto or tuna that he cooked for us).

The evening ended with enthusiastic performances to uncharacteristic music (Jesus Take the Wheel)- no clear rationale for the helmet!

The final day in Seattle was quite possibly my favourite where Jenni and I took a long stroll, hit the coffee and bagel shops and continued our ongoing discussions about life, relationships, careers, happiness, etc. When Jenni took off for work I enjoyed a long run along the water with views of the city heading one direction and the mountains heading another. The day went far too quickly and before I knew it I was at the airport, bike in hand, ready to leave the mainland and continue my journey west.

Jenni & Keith Wedding.

Scottsdale- February 4-16

Introduction to Life without a Job

From the moment I stepped off the plane in Phoenix, I knew that it was going to be an ideal 2 weeks with my mom and Dave. They picked me up at the airport and my bike somehow fit perfectly in the back seat of Dave’s car. Mom and Dave were, of course, shocked to see the enormity of the bag that I would be travelling around the world with. I sat somewhat under my bike for the journey home (pleased to have it safe and sound next to me!) as we discussed a few of the activities that were in store for my visit to Scottsdale. My mom had gone above and beyond to track down a cyclist and a swimmer for me to train with, as well as a map of the area showing the best places to ride. As we approached the house I noted the wide bike lanes on every road, and the 70+ degree weather. Between the setting for training and the fact that I had 2 weeks to relax and spend quality time with my mom and Dave, I knew that my first extended stop in the U.S. would be a good one.

As one might imagine, it was not difficult to fall into the lifestyle of an unpaid ‘professional athlete’! Basically I had the entire day to get in the necessary Ironman training, eat proper meals (and then some), stretch for the appropriate amount of time, jump in the ‘ice bath’

after each activity.

I still had spare time to catch up on life with my parents and meet their friends.

I immediately began to question how in the world I used to train for an Ironman and have a full time job.

Daily swims and subsequent rewards
The daily routine was to get up at 5:45 a.m., scarf down a bowl of cereal and head to Jim Cooper’s house where I would join him for his daily swim. Jim and I swam at a 25 meter, 10 lane outdoor pool and typically had the entire pool to ourselves. In our hour and 15 minute swim I watched the sun rise over the mountains and tried to appreciate just how lucky I was to have such an ideal early morning setting.

Jim’s disciplined swimming style of a non-stop 75 minute session motivated me to put in around 4500 meters a day, more than I have swam since high school. Jim and I would then head to Wild Oats where we had a shot of wheatgrass, which apparently boosts the immune system, balances the PH of the blood, along with other medical benefits that I can’t recall. Sceptical at first, I washed down the florescent green liquid out of a plastic shot glass and kindly thanked the man serving us who shook his head everyday as we ordered our drinks. I’m now fairly convinced that the bitter tasting grass was actually doing something beneficial for me. Jim and I would stroll around Wild Oats as he purchased organic fruit, and I stared in awe at the delicious and overwhelming selection of the gourmet grocery store. I later learned that the fruit was for the rabbits that religiously visited his house around breakfast time for their daily intake of organic grapes or strawberries on their lucky days.





Our next stop was Starbucks, where Jim introduced me to the grande, soy, chai latte, with no water and no foam. I was always amazed that the Starbucks baristas didn’t flinch with the order (although I think we did receive a few strange looks from people in line). After a couple days of Jim ordering the drink and me ordering a latte, I decided to give his drink a try. Turns out it is absolutely delicious, and unfortunately has become one more expensive vice that I crave on a daily basis!

Arriving home from the swim around 10:30, I would enjoy breakfast number 2 (or was it #3 at that point?) and plot out the next activity of the day. My mom and I often spent time running errands or hanging out in the office discussing life in Scottsdale, boys and friendships, working on our respective computer activities, or planning our upcoming trip to Australia.

One of our errands was for my mom and me to stock up on cycling gear as mom is planning a cycling trip in Austria in September and I need a couple of CO2 cartridges. I had the fortune of stumbling across Pinnacle Peak Cyclery where customer service is certainly at the heart of their business. The owners not only sold my mom and I what we needed, gave me maps of places to ride, but also offered up two of their co-workers as people who would most likely be willing to ride with me. I left my number only half expecting to get a call. A few hours later I received a call from Dane and we chatted away about training, his cycling history and places that we could ride around Scottsdale.

Scottsdale Riding
The riding turned out to be phenomenal around the Scottsdale area. It was certainly a pleasant change to be in shorts and a short sleeved jersey for all of my rides. I had the pleasure of riding with a friend of my mom’s, Dick Root, a couple of days and Dane a couple of days. Rides with Dick focused on disciplined training and the Joe Friel method of heart rate monitors, cadence and doing each ride for a purpose. Dick certainly had me thinking about ways that I could improve my cycling by incorporating a bit more structure to my training regime. We executed immediately with 5 low cadence hill repeats in the middle of our ride. We also discussed my favourite topics such as travel to great places such as New Zealand and Australia. Dane was also a pleasure to ride with as we bantered on topics from philosophies on life and relationships, to the art of no handed snot shots (which I still have yet to achieve). It never ceases to amaze me how much a commonality such as cycling serves as a catalyst in building friendships.

The Desert running adventure (why I should have GPS implanted)
Running, my least favourite of the 3 disciplines, has actually been improving over the past month and going fairly well. I am recovering from a slight quad issue (thanks to my incredible physio therapist, Andy, as well as routine massages from Chris while I was still in England). With a 90 minute run on the training plan, I ventured out into the desert where I was sure to avoid cars, run on dirt, and enjoy the unique Arizona scenery of cacti and mountains. My mom and Dave both condemned the idea of me running in the desert and provided ample warning of the dangers. In my typical relaxed and nonchalant nature, I assured them that I would be fine and that I would only be gone for 90 minutes. I set out at 1:50 p.m. Making a deliberate effort to not get lost, I went directly straight on a main trail in the desert. When that trail ended, I took a sharp left turn and noted that I was under the power lines. I ran 45 minutes that direction, turned around and headed back to where I had started. The first sign of trouble was when I arrived at the power lines and there were approximately 10 trails from which to choose. It immediately became unclear which way I had come from. I wasn’t too nervous because at that point I knew the general direction that I was trying to go. Selecting a trail 22, I decided to stick with it and prayed that it would take me back to where I had started. After about 80 minutes of running I saw 3 helicopters swarming above. I couldn’t believe that my mom has already sent helicopters after me as I hadn’t even been gone 90 minutes yet. After walking through mile after mile in the desert, I began to realize that I was definitely not on the trail where I had begun. Everything looked exactly the same. I remember Dave mentioning that there were literally hundreds of miles of desert. I started to wish that my mom actually had sent some helicopters after me! I walked up to the highest peak that I could find to look for any trace of civilization. To my shear disbelief, there was not a person, a house, a power line, or anything recognizable for as far as I could see. Typically a person who worries about absolutely nothing, I actually began to feel the onset of fear. I took a deep breath and thought through the situation from a logical perspective. While it wasn’t ideal that I was wearing only a job bra, running shorts and a fuel belt, I had consumed 2000+ calories that day so I was certain not to go hungry. I carried on, ploughing forward on the trail hoping to find any sign of humanity. Eventually I came across power lines and decide that they must lead me somewhere. I followed to power lines for over an hour and eventually saw an enormous house in a very small development. I knocked on the door, knowing full well that I looked like some freakish alien in my fuel belt, red face, dried sweat, somewhat panicked look and general dishevelled presence. A kind man opened the door, immediately invited me into his home and let me use his phone to call my parents. I met his children and their nanny and their nanny offered to drive me home. I was shocked to learn that I was almost 20 miles away from my parent’s house where I had set out 4 hours previously! We live and learn. Some might say that I shouldn’t run in the desert. My take away is to travel with a cell phone and pay closer attention to my surroundings. Regardless, I’m thankful for the kind people and just hope that I didn’t cause my mom any ulcers from my behaviour (I think she has become used to my somewhat frequent predicaments).

St. Anton, Austria- The Sabbatical Begins (January 21-28)

To kick off the 7 month sabbatical, I decided that a European ski trip was in order, as it would serve as one of the only stops in a cold climate. Chris, Wako and I held a strategy planning session to decide on the best location for the trip. We had all heard that St. Anton had the best night life and incredible skiing for intermediates to advanced skiers. We had a brief discussion about any potential beginners in the group and decided that we would provide sufficient disclaimers for the resort that we chose. It certainly wasn’t difficult to track down a group of 14 to stay in the chalet (& 2 others in a chalet up the road). We had a mixed group of skiers and boarders, boys & girls (okay, so only 4 girls, but the male: female ratio in our chalet was at least more balanced than the rest of St. Anton, aka 'ST MANton), a diverse crowd representing England, America, Spain, Australia, and Spain.

It immediately became clear that the holiday would not be one of relaxation by the fire with hot chocolate and good books when Chris sent out an email strongly encouraging everyone to bring costumes. Mark followed up the email informing the group that he had purchased a one-piece ski suit off of eBay that would serve as the punishment to the most deserving individual on a daily basis.

The 14 of us met at Gatwick early Sunday morning and the banter had already begun about nominations for the next day’s suit wearing. Saxton appeared to be in the lead with his wrong turn somewhere on the motorway causing delay to his passenger. Although the mistake didn’t quite seem worthy of the ski suit, we all grasped the one example we had hoping it would preclude us from the embarrassment of winning it ourselves. During the first evening meal, Wako elaborated on the rules stating that anyone was allowed to nominate an individual and nominations would take place each evening after the starters. After the main course, those nominated would have the opportunity to defend themselves. Finally, there would be a voting round after dessert and the suit would be passed from the previous night’s winner. Saxton graciously accepted his nomination and subsequent winning. As a gesture of good sportsmanship (or was it the excessive Jaegerbombs?) he modelled the suit while dancing to some classic 80s tune selected by Chris the evening before he was even required to wear it.

The suit nomination ceremony continued religiously throughout the week. Winners of the suit unsuccessfully attempted to defend themselves against acts such as walking into glass doors, classic falls that were witnessed by the entire group and caught on film, not making it home the entire evening (although later it was decided that should have been encouraged as opposed to punished), and for being a part of afternoon that involved multiple happy hour locations, a temporarily missing person, police stations, helmets rolling down the slope, and international friendship building (confusing even to the sober among us receiving blow by blow updates). Essentially, there were no boundaries around the acts that earned someone a day of slight humiliation.

Feeling over confident that I would not be wearing the suit, I was in for a big surprise on the Wednesday evening voting when I was accused of delving into the chocolate cake which was supposedly intended to serve as an afternoon snack for the skiers/boarders. I ‘graciously’ accepted my fate (knowing full well that it would be difficult to defend myself against anything that involved me and food, especially chocolate). As luck would have it, the following day was the planned costume day. Skiing next to Spiderman, the Mexican, and the French Maid, I looked only slightly out of style, if not fairly normal.

Costume day turned into one of the biggest happy hour celebrations of the week (which is actually stating quite a lot considering that there were daily happy hour festivities). The group decided to meet at the après ski of choice- the Krazy Kangaruh. The words posh or even civilized do not come to mind when thinking back to the KK’s scene of drunken skier and boarder madness of excessive shots, dancing, singing (to name the more tame activities). There is one very strict rule in the KK which is enforced by public humiliation. The rule is that no male can ever get on the tables for any reason. Females, on the other hand, are highly encouraged to jump up on the tables (ski boots and all), while the males must remain on the benches. Upon breaking this sacrament, the music is shut off and the bartenders make a shameful announcement directed at the culprit. Luckily our group was on its best behaviour and we were able enjoy the dance tunes until the KK closed around 8:00 pm. The true test of soberness and survival skills arrives when one walks out of the bar, after 5 hours of dancing and a few drinks, and attempts to put on skis and make it down the slope in the dark. I somehow managed this feat, and made it down the slope in the French Maid costume (somewhere along the lines the 1 piece was traded).

St. Anton fulfilled on its reputation of great nightlife, and from what I hear, the terrain suited everyone well. A previous leg injury and a fairly rigorous Ironman training schedule sadly prevented me from skiing most of the days. Fortunately, I was able to experience long walks throughout town, swims in an outdoor pool during snow storms, regular massages and a first time authentic Austrian spa experience (perhaps the last time I'll muster up the guts to enter a spa where clothing is 'absolutely prohibited'!).

After a great final evening starting with Wako's excellent recap of the week, several table competitions to finish off the wine, and late night dancing, I left St. Anton ready to begin a week of detox and 4 action packed days of packing up and moving out of my flat.