Lesson Learned

Early afternoon rolls around and I’m supposed to take a break in the workday to not go over my hours. Though I’m in a funk, I feel like taking a nap, reading my book, watching TV; it’s time to move my body—my plan? Head to the gym, bust out 90 minutes of strength training and cardio. Boring, but convenient. LA Fitness is a quick drive from work and home… my new boss/friend/roommate/landlord and I pull on our shoes and head out the door. We’re both trying to shake this sleepy, tired, unmotivated feeling. 


The sun is coming out. We could hit the trails. She says.

It’s still cold… I’ve become a baby. I want the elliptical, weights and TV to zone out to.

Come on, let’s just go. She’s not going in the direction of the gym. You know I didn’t plan on going to the gym, right? She looks over from the driver’s seat with a damn smirk on her face. We’re headed towards Twin Lakes Park.

Alright, let’s do this.


50 minutes later we’re both out of our funk, we’ve run up and down, across streams, over roots and through trees. Thank you. I say. The vitamin D, fresh air, getting back to the trails was needed and has somehow been put on the back burner lately. Lesson learned: Trails trump the gym any day. I just need to remember that when the snow is falling, the wind is blowing and I feel like being a baby. Remember the post run, post OUTDOORS adrenaline rush I always get.



What Are You DOING?!

I don’t how I do it, I don’t know why I agree, but somehow every season I get roped into and signed up for some sort of race. This year while volunteering at an adventure race in Ohiopyle, PA, my friend Ashley offered a comp entry into an X-terra she’s coordinating—THREE WEEKS FROM NOW. Time to get training.


            I’ve never claimed to be fast. I’ve never claimed that I’m going to win anything. I always just take pride in the fact that I’m out there trying. This morning I got on my mountain bike and took off for the Deep Creek State Park. Hopped on the trail and was quickly humbled by all the rocks, roots and technical ground I was covering. I got off and walked.

            The hill I climbed was on foot not by peddle. The hill I descended was on foot while pumping my squeaky brakes. I again had to cross the trail lifting the bike up a foot to clear the big rocks that I’m not skilled enough to ride. But at one point I looked up from the ground, steady with my footing, and noticed I was alone. I was out there on the trail alone. I was out there. That’s more than a lot of people I know can say about their morning.

            It didn’t matter that I wasn’t yet good enough to bunny hop over the ‘boulders’, or that my legs had a hard time pumping up the incline. I was in the woods, swatting the flies, sweating through my shirt, getting dirt on my legs doing it and loving it. What are you doing?



Seen on my ride

Seen on my ride