tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48574496302057018462024-03-05T18:54:30.494-08:00In-Jenn-New-ityJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-28246252571347419212014-06-20T17:10:00.002-07:002014-06-20T17:50:26.802-07:00See Different. Do MORE<div class="MsoNormal">
See Different. Do More</div>
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June in Chicago uniquely portrays a scene out of the
“Awakening”. As a matter of fact there
is even a music festival called “Spring Awakening”. Apropos as it is, June brought an inspiring
event that similarly “awakened” many athletes to See Different and Do More.</div>
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For those of you that didn’t know (or those of you that
heard my relentless raving…here’s one more plug) Chris Lieto happens to be my
favorite triathlete. I’ve “met” him
many times and each time as star struck as the next teenie bopper
belieber! In March, Matt Miller,
founder of C Different and overall bad ass, invited me to Dallas, as a
volunteer supporting the BASE performance and DFW tri club kick off event. Can you guess who the guest of honor was?
Lieto! It was only then that I
experienced these philanthropists live.
I saw the community come together that weekend and was breathless at the
amount of inspiration and support ALL of the athletes gave. </div>
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As I made my way back
to Chicago, I thought about the things that Matt said to our big ol’ small
community. I thought about the
experiences that Lieto shared and why he chose to be actively involved with the
reconstruction of various communities. I
thought about my own journey and how easily I reside in my own head instead of
using my capabilities and time to support others. I wanted to DO MORE.</div>
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June 2, 2014 Chris Lieto and Matt Miller came to Chicago for
our See Different. Do MORE fundraising event benefitting both charities. Fitness Formula Clubs (the ONLY USAT
certified performance center in the Midwest) stepped up and helped us host this
event. VIP ticket holders enjoyed an
intimate, gourmet 3- course dinner and some of the nicest wine and brewery
options as well as photo and autograph opportunities on the red carpet with
Matt and Chris. </div>
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As 8pm approached, and our guests doubled, the staff cleared
the dining room and reset for the question and answer session. The room filled with athletes, supporters
and even some people who did not even know Chris and Matt. Matt Miller, first took the most epic
selfie, THEN began to speak about CDifferent with an air of harmonious
conviction about what it actually means to See Different. The CDifferent foundation came to life,
after Matt noticed a blind passerby during a photo shoot. He was inspired to use his abilities to begin
this foundation of pairing visually impaired athletes with sighted ones in
order to participate in competition.
CDifferent has now grown world wide thanks to Matts efforts. </div>
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Chicago’s own, Israel Antonio, took the floor as a
beneficiary of the CDifferent organization.
Israel stands, reaches his hand out into the space, looking for his
guide to lead him to the microphone. He
turns to face the room full of people that can see him, but he “see’s” nothing. Israel lost his sight at 14 due to retinal
detachment, without any warning. While I
cannot begin to tell his story with the same passion, I do know that every
person in that room was moved by Israel’s bravery and compassion. While Israel and many of these athlete’s are
wildly independent, considering he was invited to represent USA in London last
September, still it would be near impossible for them to race without their
guides. As Isra left the morale high with his
segment of the event, the only thing you could hear was the beating hearts of
all that attended- it was truly humbling and uplifting.</div>
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Lieto enters stage right and begins his story with a
video. Chris must have an innovative
staff of videographers that have the gift of capturing the perfect balance of
kicking ass and capturing hearts because if you have ever witnessed any of
these videos, you would melt like butter in a frying pan. This unique blend of hunger and humility is exactly who I know Lieto to be. He’s a
magnanimous machine, multifaceted and outwardly focused. He drew the audience closer with his stories
of the “exotic” countries he’s visited and how he realized that while he was
competing for a title, these small villages were competing for their
prosperity. Chris spoke about MORE than
sport bringing communities together to meet the needs of those less fortunate
in MANY capacities. Every guest in the
place leaned so far in to listen I thought they would fall out of their
seats. The floor then opened for
question and answer with what seemed to be everyone’s “good friend” Chris
Lieto! I believe that a professional
athlete of this status that can be as open and captivating as Lieto is speaks
volumes to his character. It is a far jump across a puddle for Lieto to
leave his life in Hawaii to attend our little city’s charity event, however the
amount of awareness and support he, Matt and Isra created is limitless.</div>
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We ended the evening
on a high note when we presented the proceeds from our ticket sales, raffles
and a little fundraising page we put together in an oversized check to MORE
than Sport and CDifferent foundation.
They say it takes a village, and I agree, for had it not been for all
the support of my little Chicago village, the community and the dedicated
hearts, none of this would have come to be.
</div>
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It’s funny how the universe works. I would like to challenge all of you to DO
MORE, even if you are a little lost in your personal life, focus outward and
you will bring others and yourself a more fulfilling life. </div>
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Special thank you to all of our sponsors and supporters<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>:</div>
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Fitness Formula Clubs</div>
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BASE Performance</div>
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Team to End Aids</div>
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SIP</div>
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Eggsperience</div>
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More than Sport</div>
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CDifferent</div>
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Chris Lieto</div>
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Matt Miller</div>
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Austin Sunderman</div>
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Israel Antonio</div>
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Chris Navin</div>
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Trevor Hougardy</div>
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Tony and Kelly Demakis</div>
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Nic King Ruley</div>
Nigel O’ReillyJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-70637021015538072572013-03-25T15:59:00.000-07:002013-03-25T16:11:46.795-07:00Limitations-Schmimitations<br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
It's been awhile since I have shared anything with
the cyber-world, and I would like to give a big apology up front. </div>
<br />
My recent transition from Texan to Chicagoan has definitely provided a
variety of life lessons and the last year of quiet thoughts keeps leading me
back to one very large space:<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">
limitations</b>. I want to share this entry from my book with anyone who is
bored enough to read it, in hopes that there is a deeper understanding of what
overcoming this means. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">"I do
not long for the good old days, even though I love the remember whens. I do not
think I am a product of my environment; rather I will be a producer of my
environment. I was brought up as close to poverty as one can govern, but my mind
is my wealth. The biggest distinction in my thoughts than the average Joe’s, is
that I will never allow myself to be limited"<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />
This is the unedited chapter of my book, so please forgive the juvenile
structure, however my idea is there. The key word and the big, empty space is
"limitation".<br />
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<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
Isn’t it true that so many of us are conditioned to
be "humble" and "selfless" yet often this is sacrificing
our own personal happiness? Isn’t it true that we set out to take on a job or a
relationship that is merely safe or comfortable rather than a captivating?
Isn't it true that we move linearly in life, possibly having glimpses of
eccentricity, but quickly refocusing back on the path we are told we should
take? I have, time and time again. Most will quit when they experience
rejection, or find their way into a difficult and seemingly irreconcilable
situation. Most will make excuses or appear as a martyr because they have
convinced themselves they have failed. And most will bludgeon their psyche for
doing something viewed as snobbery.</div>
<br />
Setting limitations on myself has been the worst evil I have ever
accomplished. I allowed myself to grow weary and feel weak because I am, in
fact, just a bartender. What I am forgetting, is that I AM a bartender. When
was it ever subordinate to make money? Since when has a title ever defined me?
How did I forget that? I set limitations on myself and created a life that I
drag my feet. I have always had big dreams, and always had big ideas but why do
I the feel pressure against me?<br />
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<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
Jumping states in order to ground myself from the pretensions
and glittery possessions is what I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thought
</i>I was doing. I sold everything I owned, left everyone and every comfort I
had to prove to myself I was not shallow. After many months, weeks, days, and
hours of thought- perhaps my heart was in the right place but my head was ten
steps ahead of me. My point here is not to outline all the "things" I
had or the "things" I did, but to understand that I...and you...got
there because we are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">limitless.</i> </div>
<br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
The world loves the outgoing, loves the dreamers, and
loves the willing and the fearless. They will jump on their shoulders to be a
part of those who they see as heroes in professions, relationships or just in
life. I am by no means a hero, but I am bigger than I am playing in this game
of life.</div>
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<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
And that's just it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My life thus far I have thought, I have seen,
I have jumped off a few cliffs without knowing how to operate my parachute.
Somehow, I have managed to land safely. By setting limitations on myself, I
realize I am sacrificing a very large part of me and not inspiring others to
take on their dreams. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
Moving forward with my realization, I will
challenge myself to continue the power of the non-linear thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to be the inspiration in others, even
just a single person, which conjures the courage to stop at nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wouldn’t it be invigorating knowing that “things”
do not define us, but rather it was the work behind it that has granted us the
power to obtain, simultaneously cultivating self awareness, happiness and
inspiration to those who need an extra push”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I say “limitation-schmimitation”! Don’t settle for anything in life,
because maybe you ARE too valuable not to have everything.</div>
<br />
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #c00000;">Live out Loud</span></i></b>, <br />
<br />
JennJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-72679000310351418892012-04-17T08:23:00.001-07:002012-04-17T09:16:56.683-07:00The Relationship CircaMany times over I write about the human emotion. The fear of loving or being loved, the value of a relationship and the excitement that comes when we actually embrace it with the right counterpart. I have been residing in Chicago for about 3 months now and a lot of clarity has graced me. One of the largest struggles I have had in life was intimate relationships. Now that I am here, alone, I have had time to sift through the ashes of my past and get real with what decisions I am making before, during, and after a relationship. <br />
If history repeats itself, I can assure you that this psychology will be short. I teeter between the bad boy and the nice guy...over and over again. I am attracted to the suave and yet diminishing facade that the bad boy offers. It is a taste of the wild side. It is a mind blowing passionate experience that I am all to comfortable with showing to another, or am I just playing that role? The nice guy, for me, is typically he thinker, the creative, and the brainiac. I can't help myself against his powers. He kindles my fire and keeps me grounded. He shows me the world in a light even instagram can't replicate, and I spend the entire relationship feeling belittled that my brain doesn't have the same wiring. <br />
I have pondered what I really want: how tall, how dark, how handsome. I have made check lists, weighed my options, and read every book around who the perfect mate is. everyone has their own path to perfection and mine was lost in transcription. I have realized that it is not about the other person, but knowing who I truly am. Perhaps the eighth wonder of the world, but themost difficult variable for me is staying OUT of a relationship! I know,I know, taboo at its finest. Sure when I receive a wedding invitation, baby announcement or any other run of the mill showcasing of relationships, envy may creep in. However, I have grown in a different direction than those love birds. I choose to be happy for the chapter they are in their life and parallel that solace to where I am in life. I can not make some one love me and I will not settle to peer pressure, that's just me.<br />
I am thirty years young and have a lifetime ahead of me. I have "Jenn" to work out and to be comfortable with forever. In the words of U2 "I still haven't found what I am looking for", but, I do know <em>who </em>I am looking for- Me. Until I know myself and accept that I will continue to grow and change, he will never be.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-27380150588966395312012-01-09T15:13:00.000-08:002012-01-09T15:20:06.546-08:00Chicago : My Kind of TownWelcome to Chicago! What's your story? What's your dream? We've all got a dream.<br />
For some, a dream will indefinitely remain<strong> just</strong> that in either simplistic or the unrestrained perception. For me, I know it will evolve existence and spread like the wild fire of 1871.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new home!</td></tr>
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I am no stranger to change but this is by far the biggest <em>move </em> I have ever made. I made the decision based on the account that Houston just wasn't cutting it for this feisty fire starter. While I made some great friends and had a blast training and working with many of the local athletes, my visions of success was some how stunted. I stumbled upon an incredible career opportunity via a dear friend, Kamal, whom I met in Dallas in 2008. We have grown closer over the years with little face time. In my darkest hour I reached out to him for the kind of support few can furnish and behold the opportunity presented itself. It was a little over 18 days that my superficial possessions were sold and all that was left of my swaggering style <span style="background-color: yellow;">now</span> grass roots girl, her dog, and a 10 foot Uhaul were headed north. Two days on the road and a very long intermission in Memphis brought some clarity and a melange of palpability as to who I am and where I am going. I revisited every step of some difficult life altering decisions I have made and some, not quite so difficult. I figure that you don't know where you are going until you know where you've been. It was the most surreal 21 hours of my life pervading emotional breakdowns, mental uncertainty and thrills of new conviction. It was all coming together.<br />
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We arrived Wednesday , December 28th and an aire of cautious relief soaked my skin. I unpacked the truck, unpacked my new life and packed in the professional and social scene. I met with old friends, made some new ones and found myself in a world I'm too unfamiliar. The faces came and went, but not a single eye contact or gesture was made by the locals. This seemed irregular to my roots of southern hospitality. Appalling as it seemed, I still wondered what was on the occupied minds of the passer-bys and why the only olive branch extended was by the coffee shop (Ipsento) barista. He complemented my accent, however geographically inaccurate, and fell in love with Bella. He told me of the best bargain shops, where to get a good "northern" coat, and, of course, where the dog parks were positioned. I did shop those places, got a good coat and gloves, and took Bella to the park. Still the swift rhythm of Chi- town seemed no place for me...until I let it in.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chi-town only builds "up"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Favorite little java shop</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner at Ditka's with Uncle D</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First night in town @ Belly Shack</td></tr>
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I found that the people of Chicago are closed off, they drink and smoke and are ferocious food snobs. What kind of place doesn't have a Whataburger or bluebell ice cream or a Luke's Locker? Defeated. I continued the observations of my little neighborhood: hap hazardous wastes on the side walk, stray cabs changing lanes and nearly swiping cyclists, bartenders demanding they are "craft" not "drink slingers" and general brutish attitudes that would send wild animals tail tucked back to the forest. <br />
I was all wrong.<br />
Chicago is the city of motivation, the city of innovation, the city of invention- and from what I deduce, the most authenti-city I have experienced. I was in the wrong view and needed to make the switch to panoramic. I had placed Chicago in the Texas box. Round hole square peg. Let me slide up and right a thousand miles and actually get <em>out</em> of Texas. My bet is Peru doesn't have Whataburger either, so why would I care if Chi-town doesn't ? The litter I see on the side walk is opportunity for a single mom's 14 year to earn some extra money for the family. The stray cabs and daring cyclists are deliberate and even predictable and share the same cause: "get to work". Chicago is full of people who focus their sights on their work. It doesn't matter if you are an executive, a teacher or a gypsy. The pride Chicago-ites take in their careers is astonishing, which is why I owe an apology to the "bartenders". It <em><strong>is</strong></em> a craft, especially in this town, to see the lengths they go to for creating something jenn-uine :) and marketable to their guests from behind the bar , on the service floor and buried in the kitchen. I was wrong in accusing the brutish attitudes, we all have our opinions it is likely that Chicago just allows them be exposure in lieu of hiding behind fear of judgement. I was right, however, they are food snobs. Every damn place I have eaten has been mind blowing. Every thing has it's own confidence, it's own kick, it's own elixir. I owe a sincere thank you for all the fortitude it takes to be the peacock in the flock.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue 13</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue 13</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiH3MAPwre-WUu7WtOcCrrL_Nt9fm0NYCFKcIZBDdDVqtB-u-3afGoi5IdfrjI2zsTebmDVjYXT9zYpy1O-paMbMFq9yd3G5qmh4vF3tCGclz9_gcsw_izRJh2HH7DiwxiaODft0rBWk/s1600/PC310048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxiH3MAPwre-WUu7WtOcCrrL_Nt9fm0NYCFKcIZBDdDVqtB-u-3afGoi5IdfrjI2zsTebmDVjYXT9zYpy1O-paMbMFq9yd3G5qmh4vF3tCGclz9_gcsw_izRJh2HH7DiwxiaODft0rBWk/s320/PC310048.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Craft @ Karyn's on Green</td></tr>
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<br />
When I accepted my erroneous perspective, I fell in love with this city. People aren't rude and really, the south has the hospitality but the "north" ( or Midwest as <em>they</em> call it) has the in-jenn-uity. It has charm and free spirit and honesty. It has taken a weight off my shoulders so heavy I thought I might collapse under it's heft. I wear what I want, I eat what I like, I run where my feet take me and I have realized Chicago...is my kind of city.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mikey, Greg and me NYE 2011</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8egTli94JiaAO7sJyhsBK7XVXP4rCheh7eFPn0Ej4br-Jg4XCZNEXNrJpLmHWzbV5xghYfEFnafcj7R_QZ02aOYhvjEJSPDp6ww-mJEx6auj4ljKamqJWD2GUg9v4BG61_6KiKkHHIU/s1600/PC310044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8egTli94JiaAO7sJyhsBK7XVXP4rCheh7eFPn0Ej4br-Jg4XCZNEXNrJpLmHWzbV5xghYfEFnafcj7R_QZ02aOYhvjEJSPDp6ww-mJEx6auj4ljKamqJWD2GUg9v4BG61_6KiKkHHIU/s320/PC310044.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kamal and me NYE 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-13568795716486833052011-11-29T17:08:00.000-08:002011-11-29T17:31:57.309-08:002012 Tentative Race ScheduleI am taking a leap and writing about a major portion of my life: triathlons! As if no one could tell I am an active person and working my way towards being a well rounded athlete. Three sports in one! 2011 was a difficult and mostly absent season as I spent most of it in some rehabilitative structure or modality. However, 2011 was a season of learningand has shaped 2012 for me! Under the tutelage of Lori Cooper, Jason Watson and 212 in Motion I am looking forward to some <em>very</em> hard work and some personal bests! I would also like to share that I have been accepted as 2012 Athlete's Honey Milk athlete as well as Bay Area Multisport athlete. I would also like to thank Tri on the Run for supporting my biking needs especially with customzing my new ride, Bay Area Multisport for the <em>glorious </em>masters classes and appointing me an <strong>official</strong> member of the board and newcomer to the tri's, <strong>HITS</strong> triathlon series! I am looking forward to next season whole heartily and anxiously awaiting all my fellow athletes' schedules as well! Without further delay, here is what I'll be up to next year:<br />
March<br />
3- Woodlands 13.1<br />
<br />
April<br />
29- Kemah sprint-B Houston<br />
<br />
May<br />
5-Wildflower 70.3 A - California<br />
30- Doggie Du- Austin<br />
31- Captex tri Sprint B- Austin<br />
<br />
June<br />
26- Buffalo Springs Sprint A- Lubbock<br />
<br />
July<br />
25- Tri Waco Sprint A- Waco<br />
<br />
August<br />
5- Bridgeland Oly A- Houston<br />
19- Take on the Heat Sprint B- Dallas*<br />
<br />
September<br />
5- Avia Austin Tri Olympic-C Austin<br />
<br />
October<br />
11- US Open Oly A - Dallas<br />
<br />
November<br />
7- Oilman 70.3 A - Conroe<br />
<br />
December<br />
4 White Rock Relay ( full marathon)- A Dallas<br />
31- Loop the Lake -Dallas<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coaches: Lori and Jason</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Before"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3DZ7lEnf7v5KxxdatST4_bLtY5adMiM8N3eecn_J0XA6FhMUeL5-uSmIgSJuh5WI9B_TjAi1vv5kErHlPzYc_cr126n5YI9pGh7DSDRTzo3vMVvkNpxVkozBMiFHSWtAP21AMCU0Geg/s1600/whipped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3DZ7lEnf7v5KxxdatST4_bLtY5adMiM8N3eecn_J0XA6FhMUeL5-uSmIgSJuh5WI9B_TjAi1vv5kErHlPzYc_cr126n5YI9pGh7DSDRTzo3vMVvkNpxVkozBMiFHSWtAP21AMCU0Geg/s320/whipped.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Bella is working hard!<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>And I will leave all of you with this</strong></span>:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ6qTuPQRr8cfzMricOzOiFrRpNG6s8vu2-6TzO5hyQttqfyMe0BpaSXIFfiSEhuztdQe8ix2PDYnDBOgirxyStZWivlMWrjptXA0Iodn3PGuWVpJeFBdFupkdpgpRgyz51E70meRxb8/s1600/8922-medium_ChrisLietoToC1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ6qTuPQRr8cfzMricOzOiFrRpNG6s8vu2-6TzO5hyQttqfyMe0BpaSXIFfiSEhuztdQe8ix2PDYnDBOgirxyStZWivlMWrjptXA0Iodn3PGuWVpJeFBdFupkdpgpRgyz51E70meRxb8/s1600/8922-medium_ChrisLietoToC1.jpg" /></a></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-1241564056110533532011-11-10T07:27:00.000-08:002011-11-10T07:27:41.786-08:00Cinder...fellaWe long for them: The mysterious knight and his majestic horse to save us from the towers of confinement. The bad biker and the roaring engine that rattles our hearts or the affecianado with the smile that could kiss the ground in the winter time and make a flower grow. It's no secret to men what the ladies want as we often sit with our chins rested in our palms dreaming of the "perfect" partner. BUT who are these men underneath the cool exteriors? Are they raging rivers? Are they gregarious geeks? Are they mommas boys or daddy's descendants? What is it they are masking with big engines, slick hair, hard bodies or inconspicuous character? In short, what makes men, well, men?<br />
<br />
The book Men are from Mars Women are from Venus is a solid read that explains the logical "fix -it" wiring of men versus the emotionally and mostly unforgotten mechanisms of females. Certainly hormones play a viable role in what separates us from them, but I think there is something more to it. Men are simple, we can all agree on that, or are they? They are simple when it comes to weekend plans, dinner or what to wear and they likely just want a definitive plan and their friends to hang with. However, I think I don't give our condensed counterparts enough credit. <br />
<br />
For me, I love a man with edge. Confidence holds a fine line before exploding an ego so if done right, I'm putty. I love the bad boy and the charmer. I love the tall ,dark and handsome and the analyzer. This is a tall order for one man to accommodate. I mean this isn't Weird Science and I don't have that capacity in my computer! What if underneath every man's mask is just a man. A real live person without an expectation or agenda. What if our expectations of a man are so manufactured that it is penetrating their minds and causing them to act as something they are not? Think about any person you have ever seen change. For better or worse, what was their reason? How well did they play that role? How long did it last? They may have changed to impress a lady, to gain recognition at work, to embrace their alter ego. We have all done it to some degree and I think men may be stronger in the mental arena giving them a harder expectation to live up to. Do not fail, right? Wrong. Men are just as sensitive to what they <em>should</em> look like and how intelligent they are expected to be. I am reminded of "Screech" from <em>Saved by the Bell. </em>The geek was always on the prowl to becoming the man of "Lisa Turtle's" dreams. He relentlessly wracked his brain in attempt to figure out what she wanted in a man. It was entertaining but tragic like watching <em>Wil E Coyote</em> continue to fall off of a cliff or combust at chance of catching the <em>Roadrunner! </em>Screech, in the end was just Screech however his affinity to Lisa kept him on a wire to be something he is not. He just wanted to Lisa, because she was Lisa. Is it possible that Lisa's continued cold shoulder gave Screech the power to advertently reinvent himself to her liking? Is it possible that most men react similarly?<br />
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I think we all wear a mask to cover who we are. It seems to have become the staple of humanity. Always climbing up and we must act if we want to do. Poppycock! I'd rather find that my dream boat boy is genuinely himself, a geek to boot, and the confidence that allows him to embrace his nerd is far sexier than any motorcycle. Besides I'm an athlete and engines on your bike is just cheating. My point is for the men out there: drop the tough guy attitudes, the debonaire diatribes and the testosterone talk-fests and let us see the real you. Cinderella, after all, melted away at midnight and all that was left was her, a servant with a sureness. Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-53026084917877917982011-11-08T07:54:00.000-08:002011-11-08T08:51:52.156-08:00Oilman 70.3 & Team Tri Not 2 Suck Tranquility sounds at 3 a.m. Sunday morning but I had already beat the alarm to the coffee pot by 10 minutes. Race days hold an absolute pattern for me: serenity and mental gaming calm me until I reach the parking lot of the site, then the ear phones go in and I lose myself in Eminem's depictions of fearlessness and abrasive focus empowering inner strength and superceding intenal doubts. Oilman was my last of the season and the weeks leading up to were filled with work and strategy.<br />
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We walked into transition united as team Tri Not 2 Suck knowing what was ahead of us was going to be difficult. It wasn't the course or the distance, per se, but the knowledge that we would not let eachother down, and more over we would not let ourselves down. 2011 was a year of challenges for the 3 of us and somehow, at least in my head, this race signified redemption.<br />
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My efforts to keep my head down and my thoughts quiet were interrupted occasionally by fellow competitors, supporters and the giant strides of Bella in anticipaton of venturing the entire venue. Of course I scoped out our relay opponents, but so often I misjudge the strengths of them and after reading Mark Allen's article on mental toughness it didn't really matter who the competition was, I was there to race my race. Again, I quieted my thoughts and turned my focus to Carrie. This would be her first 1.2 mile open water swim, and she was going to finish it for us and for her. The day couldn't have been more perfect, in my opinion, chilly but not cold, overcast and a slight wind. We snuck some pictures in as we walked our swimmer to her starting line. It is truly amazing to see the focus in a competitor switch the second they toe the line. My intuition was on fire watching my teammates prepare as we were all doing our least favored event. At last, the gun goes off and so did Carrie.<br />
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Back in transition, I Gu'd up and checked my nutrition was in alignment with the plan Lori, Jason and I worked on. 2 bottles of EFS, 6 gu's, a bag a small pretzels (made a nice quasimoto hump in my jersey), and my salt tabs should get me through the 56 mile time trial I was about to endure. My focus back to my watch and the transition line looking for Brad or Carrie. <em>38 minutes in I better gear up </em>my thoughts proceeded my actions as I was already in my cleats and fastening my aero helmet. I shoved 2 gu packs in te leg of my shorts for easir access and to make room in the bento box for a nutrition bar- better safe than sorry. 40 minutes.Gretchen and I watched the smooth chip hand off by an all male team that we subscribed to: "When Carrie comes in I'll get the chip and put it on your ankle". "Brilliant". Stephen screams "Here she comes"! And there she was Brad just a few feet in front of her cheering her on. Gretch grabs the ankle strap, I grab my bike, chip fastened and I am off like a prom dress! <br />
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Before I even get out of T1 my 2 gu's, strategically placed in the thigh of my shorts eject themselves, damnit- I guess they weren't up for a ride. Of course the mount line was 6 feet further than where I thought it should be but overruling volunteers got me back on track....and we're off! <em>Don't go out too fast, have fun, remember what Lori said, you don't want Jason yelling at you</em> my thoughts roared. Left turn, thoughts continued <em>56 miles and no ipod, listen to the cars, the birds, why didn't you eat all of your breakfast, at least I don't haveto pee.</em> Right turn- climbing now. <em>It figures the one place in Houston I get to race at has hills, at least the wind is calm, I like her kit, hey theresa duck, where's the chip seal... shut up!</em> Right turn- solitary confinement. No spectators, no cars, no ipod. <em>Remember Mark Allen</em> "find the place between the positive and negative where it is quiet and stay there". I've yet to master the meditation but I understand the place where negative talk and positive talk lives in me, I kept my head wedged between the two. Calm. I looked at my watch, 26.2 mph. <em>I guess there is a tail wind, slow down remember what Jason said.</em> I pulled back and settled in to a steady cadence. It wasn't long before the scandaloous stretch of scurvy seal was staring me in the face. Two weeks leading up to the race local athletes ranted about the 10, no 14, no 16 miles of new chip seal on the bike course, certain to rattle your brain and chip your teeth. <em>Will it be paved before the race? Will they tear up more of the road? What pressure should I put in my tires? "SHhhhhhh, quiet place.</em> I endured it, it was not bad but I was greatful for the moment when I hit the slick street again. Mile 28 self -scanning. <em>Legs feel good, knee is holding on, saddle is feeling numb but no soreness, where's my...oh my watch stopped- great. Down 1.5 ish bottles, perfect, 3 gu's and 3 salt tabs-on target,</em> all inner dialogue as I am sure any competitor watching me thought I may have been hallucinating what with my head nods and awkward agreement that everything was going...well...right. <em>Where's the turn around? Shiiiiiiit- left handed turn, don't lose it! ( insert Zoolander tantrum in turning left) Whew. I guess that's the turn around. </em> I grabbed my first water bottle from a sweet little boy that said " I think you're in the wrong race, this is all boys!" I think, dear child, all the girls were in front of me, and you got here late! Down the hatch the water went all 20 ounces and as I passed a couple of Bicycle World athletes I let them know it was "time to take it home". Mile 40 my thoughts began to explode. My calmness became calamity. <em>What times it, am I on track, I only have 2 gu's left, I need water, I need calories, why did I say I'd do this, is it sprinkling, I can't handle my bike in the rain, where... what...why...Shut-up! Focus! Head down, find a target and pick them off....Oh I love Target! Focus, Jennifer, focus" . </em> Target in place, knee feeling achey and losing form but I reestablished my quiet place and knew this is where the mental game was going to take shape. I contnued on my path to conquer my target. As I passed him I asked the time, 2:42 since his swim began 20 minutes before I left transition. PEOPLE, left turn, slick roads! I was rejuvenated to see <strong>LIFE</strong> and feel the energy of the volunteers. I picked up my cadence, shifted to a higher gear and took my last gu at mile 50. My eyes began to weaken. I was chasing that little dot in my left eye. You know, the one that appears in the periphery but when you try to look it jumps further into the periphery. My eyelids felt heavy, chills overcame my burning red legs ( so much for sport legs and no burn) and I began wondering what tools I had to stab into one or both of my tires and if my team would believe it. <em>You came to do a job...do it!</em> Down goes the rest of my EFS, all that was left of calories was the hunch back of pretzels and the bar that awaits me at transition because butter fingers dropped it in excitement! My legs were heavy and had to pee like a race horse. <em>Find the calm.</em> Finally, a long descent helped me find my cadence and I was back in action. This is where I found out exactly howfar 5 miles was. It was actually 8. The climbs were harder, my legs were suffering bloody abrasions and numbness, my elbows rubbed raw and my mind, again, was defeating me. <em>Drop your gear, stop fo a second. NO! Shut the hell up and do what you came to do. </em><em><a href="mailto:F*@# it">mailto:F*@# it</a>, gear up, head down and hammer.</em><em> it</em> I came here to compete, so I wanted to leave knowing I gave it everything I had. Every injury I overcame,every friend I made, every friend I lost, every home I lost, every swim, bike and run I completed, everything right here, right now. <br />
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I could see the long line of cones leading me back to where I started with my team. <em>Just keep pedaling. YOu're almost there. </em>In an instant I felt the hours of labor begin to creep up my digstive tract and I wondered if I would make it to the finish line in one piece. Last turn. My senses were off. There was no auditory function, my tactility retreated, my taste was only of salt and my eyes were failing me- seriously, but I was still going. I pulled my feet from my shoes, a small victory as I have only done this twice in a race, and I realized I was coming in very fast<em>. Where's the dismount? You're coming in too hot, why can't I hear anything? Puke when you get to Gretchen, they're counting on ...<strong>BRAKES! Oh Shit! </strong></em>I felt my bare feet hit the ground, my bike over my shoulder and hussled what was left of me over the timing mat and made my way back to my team. I handed the chip to Gretchen an collapsed to my haunches as the blistering tears filled my lids. I did it, I did it.<br />
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Gretchen made her way out on the run, a 3 loop course, where spectators had plentyof face time. We cheered for our gal pal to bring us home every moment she passed. Her first 2 loops were on pace (so we assumed) and she looked strong. Worry set in as we waited for her third loop passing and time was elongating. Her calves had cramped and her back had ceased causing respiratory issues to boot. Finally, we saw her bright colored ensemble hoofing in and we were relieved she was home. Carri and I darted out to run along side our fearless friend into her finish ne. The specatatos got a good laugh when the announcer congratulated team, Tri Not 2 Suck, on our finish! We ran around to great Gretch with a big sweaty hug and a delaration of redemption! <strong>We</strong> did it. It didn't suck, and we brought home some hardware.<br />
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I want t give a sincere thanks to all that have supported me through 2011 and also those who doubted me ( including myself). I want to thank, first, Stephen. It has been a very long, bumpy road to recovery but you have been there every step of the way always believing in me and telling me to "stay on your wheel". I want to thank my coaches Lori Cooper and Jason Watson for prepaing me, believing in me and being the voice of reason and the hard ass, respectively. :) I want to thank Greg Pennington for hosting a tough race and just being a generally awesome dude. Thanks to John Cobb and his ingenious VFLOW max saddle that kept me comfy during my ride. Thank you to Athletes Honey Milk and Bay Area Multisport for the supportive nutrition and workouts that got me here. Thank you to Tri on the Run for addng me to their team. Thank you to my second family and caregivers Dr. Weinstein, Debbie,Shayna,Andrew,Zach, Rachel, Peggy, Goldie, Marv and the rest of them for nursing me back to health both emotinally and physically. 2011 was a big year for me. I couldn't have done it without any of you. Stay tuned for 2012 season and the holiday adventures to come! All my love, Jenn<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOXnbahkme7nBRFQDTDnt33fvJjFpM4Sii99dtos-tTbaE_YhfGC2gagpCiY1SyNblLitqFij7xEND_a27p57gvbp_b6RDP-siwL0CM0diZC6gNHy8-nWKAscDwe2zoktdnnkgJDxBk8k/s1600/PB050064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOXnbahkme7nBRFQDTDnt33fvJjFpM4Sii99dtos-tTbaE_YhfGC2gagpCiY1SyNblLitqFij7xEND_a27p57gvbp_b6RDP-siwL0CM0diZC6gNHy8-nWKAscDwe2zoktdnnkgJDxBk8k/s320/PB050064.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-50094939921909823912011-11-04T07:42:00.000-07:002011-11-04T07:42:16.396-07:00Dirty 30: Before and Aftermath!October was a busy month for me. I have been training hard with my coaches for Oilman 70.3 (relay)and have also taken on a few hours at the not so local tri shop, Tri on the Run, just for fun! October also brought my favorite holiday and my big 3-0! Luckily I had my 1/3 life crises at 28 so this year was all about having fun. 2011 brought me a lot of challenges, a lot of changes and a lot of clarity. That being said, this Dirty 30 was all too real and a great celebration of the new beginings.<br />
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I began planning the "Speak Easy" a couple of months out as I knew it had the potential to be quite a production with the right things in place. As the last weekend of October closed in on me, the weather finally ooled off, the days began and ended earlier and the smell of fall was in the air. We made several blue prints for how to gut the house and what supplies we would need to completely recreate the 1930's infamous <em>Speak Easies.</em> I did a lot of research and spoke to anyone I knew to help me capture the ambiance. It turns out speak easies weren't quite so elegant as I previously thought. O' contrare' they were rather dim and dusty and the spread closely resembled a child's menu with hot dogs or mac n cheese! However, they were the host sites to some of the richest and badest mobsters as it was privelage to know where these libation lairs layed! The speak easies were found usualy on the outskirts of town in likely an abandoned library ( a mask to exonnerate a busts) only recognized by a single light usually of different coloring. Easy to say, our decorations were also minimal! Green bulb on the front porch- Check!<br />
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My best friend of a hundred years drove into town from Austin on Friday to help me manufacture the decor. Prior to her arrival I deep cleaned every knook and cranny ( my birthday gift to myself - sick I know) only to find myself rehanging spider webs and vintage photos! I made simple tables and covered them with beautiful, white, PLASTIC table cloths topped with a single votive- the real deal! I also managed to think up a way to make plush drapes that would keep all the light out of the house. Again ,I bunched up some serious purple table cloths and hung them on curtain rods, I dont think anyone could tell they were faux- it was much too dark! <strong>Three</strong> last minute trips to the local WT store to get suspenders, garters and white flowers and we were set!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmdmAoPcrZ4um7ya5uflZo90TGaHBQvm3Vnouk7PFhhbjOsICeieh2MG5VBp1oRi9C5nebp0aTEVZ8EFSquOON0Gi_NRlSiS9fCGmbrjNitA50ywY_1LuBig3sYYIruj38m0DN3-5IFA/s1600/PA280039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMmdmAoPcrZ4um7ya5uflZo90TGaHBQvm3Vnouk7PFhhbjOsICeieh2MG5VBp1oRi9C5nebp0aTEVZ8EFSquOON0Gi_NRlSiS9fCGmbrjNitA50ywY_1LuBig3sYYIruj38m0DN3-5IFA/s320/PA280039.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nicole getting into character</td></tr>
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T-2 hours:<br />
Nicole and I jumped into costume and on our way to transformation! Nicole wore a purple flimsy hat, LONG black dress and elegant white gloves. Her costume was spot on and her hair was totally behaving that day (sigh) so I can say that she easily had an awesome transition time! My dress and hat were both custom made via mylil' bro ad his company Orange Jacket Fashions! I can not believe the amount of work he did or the precision in detail. It was truly breath taking!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyA6Qo_PDzAuTpoCOfZRIwWJE2DFR1JjUIklQOhHWAnrsnheILGo-QucirIuLajly084ySzuKXphKu0AErbXuP-8B9zZhO7ohaHCc5hr0sNEWnmSBYXLGojYOkIuoa3VdOJl7KXEbkhY/s1600/301331_227562867310665_100001708609818_638880_1047674605_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNyA6Qo_PDzAuTpoCOfZRIwWJE2DFR1JjUIklQOhHWAnrsnheILGo-QucirIuLajly084ySzuKXphKu0AErbXuP-8B9zZhO7ohaHCc5hr0sNEWnmSBYXLGojYOkIuoa3VdOJl7KXEbkhY/s320/301331_227562867310665_100001708609818_638880_1047674605_n.jpg" width="157" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somehow I managed not to get a full shot of my costume</td></tr>
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T-1 hour : <br />
Dressed to imress, we lit the indoor and outdoor fireplaces, votives, and set the mood. Gentle 30's jazz was playing in the back ground and a slight wind had picked up making for a great addition to our swoire. Finally, our brooding bouncer, Carter and a charming yet edgy bartender, Tyler had arrived! After a very short briefing my two main men fell right into character as they harassed guests who didn't have secret password and pacified the ones who did! Both of them did an excellent job keeping the the riff raff out and the ritzy in!<br />
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Showtime! <br />
7 pm came so quickly as our first guests began to arrive. They were heckled at the door but once through welcomed to enjoy their evening. Mobsters and flappers came in full force with their tommy guns, bras knuckles, fedora's and altered attitudes. Feather boas and saltwater pearls adorned the arms and necks of the mobsters maidens and a few special guests arrived giving the 30's bash a new twist. I was amazed at the costumes that my braniac friends came up with: Chris Dolence came as a candy striper, like Mr. Peppermint from our childhood, complete with creepy curly mustache that he grew for the occasion. Next up: Dorothy and those ruby slippers (not to mention the cake balls she made!) and by her side was Charlie Chaplain who I mistaked as Hitler initially- sorry Curtis! The final couple to arrive, a real favorite of mine, Lucy and Desi! Yep, the Ricardos were at my party and in full character. I couldn't get "Lucy" to actually smile for the pictures- all Lucy all the time! I loved Lucy!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5nEAGkox3qY_rULnHKHlorALpr4isnSgiLx-H9eJVNfzMvw7s2xtUyBc7efn2WQ1mnehAdAF3uUMobMEkEzi13AhVOEyIdgNZQMRcrxwdS8PzQ7U2K5WAevmsTgvRbHz5hXEnL_Qtgs/s1600/cutis+and+kelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5nEAGkox3qY_rULnHKHlorALpr4isnSgiLx-H9eJVNfzMvw7s2xtUyBc7efn2WQ1mnehAdAF3uUMobMEkEzi13AhVOEyIdgNZQMRcrxwdS8PzQ7U2K5WAevmsTgvRbHz5hXEnL_Qtgs/s320/cutis+and+kelly.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dorothy and Hitler...Charlie Chaplan!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEAt6ZIunpfr9_w-btJKXYrj0v8mUjxLJwJLm52fki7U6oYRwtqiuxX4uxzMjmDjOTYMQ6aNIbPOaWvnvGl3L0HoHvbSWHSaXy6h1onUKW0g48dWY6k1-aFiuTUOQtkjK2y448ft1SNw/s1600/PA290087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxEAt6ZIunpfr9_w-btJKXYrj0v8mUjxLJwJLm52fki7U6oYRwtqiuxX4uxzMjmDjOTYMQ6aNIbPOaWvnvGl3L0HoHvbSWHSaXy6h1onUKW0g48dWY6k1-aFiuTUOQtkjK2y448ft1SNw/s320/PA290087.JPG" width="67" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Peppermint</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAd6yKM5v1277l-NFlogkmvnrCjzctLlXJ1vtE5dlcIydU6d4u-bRh6D5eg1ZZ2S4HCXqruaaHePuZbCmtJrjI05pmZbIAB79nR9uBDzUzveffZHlj4xXQrXusa3_VP3IBXPSqJ-ST9I/s1600/PA280047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAd6yKM5v1277l-NFlogkmvnrCjzctLlXJ1vtE5dlcIydU6d4u-bRh6D5eg1ZZ2S4HCXqruaaHePuZbCmtJrjI05pmZbIAB79nR9uBDzUzveffZHlj4xXQrXusa3_VP3IBXPSqJ-ST9I/s320/PA280047.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucy and Desi Ricardo</td></tr>
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The evening was quiet for the first hour or so, when I was told that my playlist, ahem, sucked! Ohhhh, Dolence you're so eloquent! In a matter of minutes the 30's thrive was out te window and new age playlist, that shall remain nameless, had this speak easy speaking LOUDLY! Out came the hip hop, the booty busting- literally, and the little rockstars in all of us. I shot a video but it's a bit dark. See if you can identify any of the dancers!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxFJMd0yrkLzgjYxG_yhy6kZn8Wgiz1QMpuaOA172aB_U8wVWBDsnyNgHmJm-HC1cMoiirzlRaq3tgPN1EbsQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">after 46 seconds you can actually see people</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIc9AhpWqr7CdgQ2d9Za6c_OK0BF9EuuHMQau2S4duf5A-0fcF0MOdnMXUODLBciC94NajoRg7LsrXJ5T1sgLIVeGDzA6OL5nUa6Gj04zfjt6a6rpVjA-N9cyeQqhIt1Kzi-U4Ln6t3o/s1600/PA280053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIc9AhpWqr7CdgQ2d9Za6c_OK0BF9EuuHMQau2S4duf5A-0fcF0MOdnMXUODLBciC94NajoRg7LsrXJ5T1sgLIVeGDzA6OL5nUa6Gj04zfjt6a6rpVjA-N9cyeQqhIt1Kzi-U4Ln6t3o/s320/PA280053.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The MEN</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4EmSMJyv2apJpOGXbEI3fSGDaM1jfpdD0hfeGB-bgnyW42VsNNgoICVRQ-loRaG8RY7R4gZ5bobauCwYe8-xRIo4_vrGijFaf4V5SVv6mUW3nvOtFYXtPDpUzwHhQwtjOduIiQJXkic/s1600/PA280055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4EmSMJyv2apJpOGXbEI3fSGDaM1jfpdD0hfeGB-bgnyW42VsNNgoICVRQ-loRaG8RY7R4gZ5bobauCwYe8-xRIo4_vrGijFaf4V5SVv6mUW3nvOtFYXtPDpUzwHhQwtjOduIiQJXkic/s320/PA280055.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The LADIES</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDVpFMnTBu8piOm7sHGTTI4cUpXowap_FjEEtp4Edf1TH1jpzOlI7vQ31indR26_9VFlcWaf8eYdjzRVzkppWEquUSRtSz9P3cuCU82kGWJkMcIhARJfdxRXXl0v3hI4_Wmg8hPcGAco/s1600/PA290066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDVpFMnTBu8piOm7sHGTTI4cUpXowap_FjEEtp4Edf1TH1jpzOlI7vQ31indR26_9VFlcWaf8eYdjzRVzkppWEquUSRtSz9P3cuCU82kGWJkMcIhARJfdxRXXl0v3hI4_Wmg8hPcGAco/s320/PA290066.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dance Break!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi2Lw67NmnK8frrHoMJtLS3f7Cee3EfBSTqCag-jYnJcVANmlnk2Xnx8Nlzazbd3Sou0itUr2omJF1LqDc8vctIWwkrvSV_CH4igHvKrMTwlodbUEegIA3P6xfWfou_5stUHGLB6TkxU/s1600/PA290077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi2Lw67NmnK8frrHoMJtLS3f7Cee3EfBSTqCag-jYnJcVANmlnk2Xnx8Nlzazbd3Sou0itUr2omJF1LqDc8vctIWwkrvSV_CH4igHvKrMTwlodbUEegIA3P6xfWfou_5stUHGLB6TkxU/s320/PA290077.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Dolence changed the music! Notice the curtains?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoJN0u90ZqQzUtkKA3kdet1-x7kq0gXskm1wbi0iqj1_2qM4mbDoNfZ4kWPcR_kayNYj67esy1GpRr4_TvQnNDF-7-hZ_sVKGOdZRG74h2XQ-1ayncTMyIZJ9wbgnCItCRy6YDk0Ysbk/s1600/PA290062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmoJN0u90ZqQzUtkKA3kdet1-x7kq0gXskm1wbi0iqj1_2qM4mbDoNfZ4kWPcR_kayNYj67esy1GpRr4_TvQnNDF-7-hZ_sVKGOdZRG74h2XQ-1ayncTMyIZJ9wbgnCItCRy6YDk0Ysbk/s320/PA290062.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Bella and Mason partied!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMxF0hVBsay6-TVoyJPwN0Kn-WOn0kZGHrNmfA10Trxsc4iRGMxhSETciaxLIlp_ONBKUvXftTOBroyLHUJU9nB_5DuTyoIck67SZVyYY4SxxIYCi0xhr-ym2mM2cG2J5dPkbo0towpM/s1600/PA290059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMxF0hVBsay6-TVoyJPwN0Kn-WOn0kZGHrNmfA10Trxsc4iRGMxhSETciaxLIlp_ONBKUvXftTOBroyLHUJU9nB_5DuTyoIck67SZVyYY4SxxIYCi0xhr-ym2mM2cG2J5dPkbo0towpM/s320/PA290059.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hosts with the mosts!</td></tr>
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All in all I'd say it was quite a hit on many levels. Nicole, Stephen, Gretchen, Carrie and I pulled together to make this production and I think it was enjoyed by everyone. I'm thankful all my friends came and that I am alive another year to celebrate. I'd be even more thankful if I hired a clean up crew, but that is a good sign it was epic! Thanks to everyone who came and played with us. A special thanks to The Stitts for letting us use their kids as actors and servants, thnks to G for picking up all that ceviche, to Carrie for making a Mondrian backdrop for photo fun, and to Stephen for running all over town to make this happen. Also, a thanks to our neighbors although don't think we're froends anymore! Kidding. Love you guys!<br />
Next up, ending the season with a bang: Oilman is this weekend so wish us LUCK, our team TRI not 2 Suck!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMq1wtWLFfv-SZ7lpu_KMNA3TxH7jJfluynETQRUR2P5MFxvBUNHG7yJLDc3r0LtO0DXb8CSyEUr8wuWpXoZ-sYOzuR2qUA3UwpaP2hJJStD9X0-rHj0f5bqla9FHqTwO0ERSNOrP1Sw/s1600/PA280044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="175" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMq1wtWLFfv-SZ7lpu_KMNA3TxH7jJfluynETQRUR2P5MFxvBUNHG7yJLDc3r0LtO0DXb8CSyEUr8wuWpXoZ-sYOzuR2qUA3UwpaP2hJJStD9X0-rHj0f5bqla9FHqTwO0ERSNOrP1Sw/s320/PA280044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A GREAT capture!</td></tr>
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JJJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-83766681303047439142011-10-13T11:00:00.000-07:002011-10-13T11:00:29.665-07:00What Not to Wear<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Disclaimer:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This blog is solely in jest and targeted at those of us who struggle with appropriate athletic wear and inspired by two of my favorite local athletes, Carrie and Gretchen.<br />
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I have vivid recollection of an old friend and former Brewer High School track star, Amy Taylor (known for her sexy legs) saying with conviction “Spandex is NOT your friend, and just because they make it in your size doesn't mean you SHOULD wear it". As the girls' careful laughter echoed the walls of that old drill team room, her words have stuck with me for some 10 years. Now coming from a young lady with legs as cut and long as a super model, it sounds condescending...however, she is right.<br />
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As athletes, we are expected to wear various clothing styles and fits to compliment the sport AND our bodies. I have been to many a fitness competition, marathon, bike rally, crit race, adventure race, gymnastics tourney, swim meet, or just good old fashioned evening walks and must say apparently we didn't get the memo. Manufacturers spend years and tons of money "perfecting" the appropriate design and dynamics of an article that will separate their product from the thousand others on the market. They are doing the dirty work so YOU don’t have to! Let me explain: if you are training, competing or just looking for some comfy clothes to look sporty in there are plenty available if you just look.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcW8ilcQzpd6DtMdOZxtjGZ5MLaUCv7wDSzsB4T8-KA586QyLFiFJAPuN-ljwwHVwjHuJhN4fIfrYkvM7rSIAf-TX4H6-7cwKwwAdFB937C8QQTYj3QzZkS01yfLvSQn9ZCoposyikTWY/s1600/forever+lazy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcW8ilcQzpd6DtMdOZxtjGZ5MLaUCv7wDSzsB4T8-KA586QyLFiFJAPuN-ljwwHVwjHuJhN4fIfrYkvM7rSIAf-TX4H6-7cwKwwAdFB937C8QQTYj3QzZkS01yfLvSQn9ZCoposyikTWY/s320/forever+lazy.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forever Lazy and Track?</td></tr>
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I understand the big comfy sweats and the oversized hoodie, but this gigantic jumper was not intended for track practice! There are a variety of things you can wear to run in and will double your dollar for versatility. My favorite is the running skirt. Girly and dainty to the eye, but has super wicing powers that don’t leave you with dumpy drawers post run. Added bonus: wear it around town with a racer back and your favorite micro hoodie and envy will be cast upon your sporty style!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qukQbxXLcjAu0uvhdBj7co38KGjiQpF6_fCelFeEt-whbzhRMRJEO67okBzd-OzkbzlYNWN6gKqpSg04ekSSozizzp-mTC7RUiukkfGmJKVV7tJw2oWAH0BDhytrBX4YFwOkwDbGS90/s1600/P9160030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qukQbxXLcjAu0uvhdBj7co38KGjiQpF6_fCelFeEt-whbzhRMRJEO67okBzd-OzkbzlYNWN6gKqpSg04ekSSozizzp-mTC7RUiukkfGmJKVV7tJw2oWAH0BDhytrBX4YFwOkwDbGS90/s320/P9160030.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Behold! The running skirt!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>There are also a variety of running shorts at your disposal. Nike seems to be the most popular with their eclectic patterns, bright colors, and relatively inexpensive commitment. It seems like everyone has a pair of these shorts in their alma maters' colors, which is cool but pay attention to your sizing. Get a real idea of what size you ARE as opposed to what size you want to be or think you are. My great friends Carrie and Gretchen BOTH think they are 2 sizes larger than they are- and they are berated for it! Gretchen sent me this picture of her new race day outfit asking my opinion. I told her the truth " they look awesome!"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaphrZwdxqPhMXZXjHSYcoIf-Zq5M_ry6cnpYcJxdOqXAEtSUUMXpylvJMnPRTSCDIezqBv1ElyV9C15AurvtXgd5W3zjclmTlI_rLwHuk2uD5cNU5MNiUwvR23SKHqu3yOJ_G1nNhsU/s1600/G-+Before%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaphrZwdxqPhMXZXjHSYcoIf-Zq5M_ry6cnpYcJxdOqXAEtSUUMXpylvJMnPRTSCDIezqBv1ElyV9C15AurvtXgd5W3zjclmTlI_rLwHuk2uD5cNU5MNiUwvR23SKHqu3yOJ_G1nNhsU/s320/G-+Before%2521.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good Fit!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
But here is what she came home with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlJoRHyNh7FkzlO1weFLmzA-PSTdK1_08rNhR3CiipqeCTOCBUDPb47FYXh0tb1ETWB1VdYnXUMI0shatcYkRe6V63EPSSTBJn5T6ueZyKE1TzFzONcEKV4s8Jc5UxvynyA3z0QGKRNg/s1600/g-+after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlJoRHyNh7FkzlO1weFLmzA-PSTdK1_08rNhR3CiipqeCTOCBUDPb47FYXh0tb1ETWB1VdYnXUMI0shatcYkRe6V63EPSSTBJn5T6ueZyKE1TzFzONcEKV4s8Jc5UxvynyA3z0QGKRNg/s320/g-+after.jpg" width="136" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn't Fit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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No, people she did not tie a parachute around her waist, but she did upsize her shorts because clearly she didn’t notice all the weight she lost during her kick ass 2011 triathlon season. Fail! Carri is my skinny mini friend that is also under the impression that she should shop at Trader's Village for her athletic attire. Again, this beauty is in gangster's paradise with her big ol' britches and don’t get me started on her competition swim wear. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeVKc0l6dDPa4rLiyO7ML8C2Mpw5amD7iDQ-g2apm6naZn7wIb4O2XbajcNtTzZXaOodkLikBZ0p9NbWTWLp8-Jm4WBJt1u_5dAp4fX9mTFXN2-KfZgg3NFmm7Smk0Kdiuk9MauThyphenhyphenjk/s1600/carrie+before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAeVKc0l6dDPa4rLiyO7ML8C2Mpw5amD7iDQ-g2apm6naZn7wIb4O2XbajcNtTzZXaOodkLikBZ0p9NbWTWLp8-Jm4WBJt1u_5dAp4fX9mTFXN2-KfZgg3NFmm7Smk0Kdiuk9MauThyphenhyphenjk/s320/carrie+before.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soggy Bottoms?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I don't criticize unless I have a resolution to offer, of course. We fixed Carrie's swimsuit saga as I had a brand new one that I bought too small ( Speedo runs incredibly small) and immediately her baggy bottoms weren’t slapping the side of the pool during flip turns. Success! She's so cute, it’s a shame not to show her physique! Glad I could help!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUNUwvqTyQiUzIMDov4-xSnqbeaVbYHzusFxvOjy1YgSdyKffa5Ci38EQftmjBW_Tr2XOMe9s7sryrONGLqHOsCOnjgCNxSlSf8Dg3AlYVxKjWT4crqp7vT5E2u9uAB9wFwAs6xpo9JA/s1600/carrie+after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUNUwvqTyQiUzIMDov4-xSnqbeaVbYHzusFxvOjy1YgSdyKffa5Ci38EQftmjBW_Tr2XOMe9s7sryrONGLqHOsCOnjgCNxSlSf8Dg3AlYVxKjWT4crqp7vT5E2u9uAB9wFwAs6xpo9JA/s320/carrie+after.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Redeemed!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Your running shorts are SUPPOSE to be short! The less drag you have the better and more material just aides in the awkward inner thigh disappearing act when shorts are dangerously long. Don’t embarrass yourself! Further, I think the shorty short spandex tights are still a better fit for the ladies than most shorts. They fit snug against YOUR curves have soft waist and thigh bands and light weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sold! However, they can be rather revealing so for the more conservative I would suggest, again, the running skirt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYhyphenhyphen-F63_gLBR1THG9jXURaU16LQvdMlM2G249NwMxiM7aymLMXXHVHsgWxHaGvivTt-EcYWjPamBtbodfjLKLP8d8RXTYOKjMNKu_NnKca9wtyhGWa5hVadg-LHQci60PIB-TkuUFlI/s1600/shorty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYhyphenhyphen-F63_gLBR1THG9jXURaU16LQvdMlM2G249NwMxiM7aymLMXXHVHsgWxHaGvivTt-EcYWjPamBtbodfjLKLP8d8RXTYOKjMNKu_NnKca9wtyhGWa5hVadg-LHQci60PIB-TkuUFlI/s320/shorty.jpg" width="131" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basic Black shorty</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Triathlon wear is something I have become all too familiar with. There are so many different types and colors and qualities where do you start? I suggest figuring out your body type. I'm a rather bootylicious female so stuffing myself into a pair of Zoot shorts doesn’t do me any favors. Even 2 sizes larger I still look like a sausage! I was not born a mannequin so why dress like one? I find that Louis Garneau and DeSoto sports have a much softer waist and thigh band which accentuates my curves rather than cutting them off. Both companies have tons of styles and lengths to fit your fancy. For those of you that ARE built like beanpoles, Zoot and 2XU are a safe bet for you. Remember triathlon is a sport in which DRAG counts, negatively. You swim, bike and run in the same outfit, so comfort is probably not going to aid you in your next PR. Yes, you want your kit to be comfortable, but comfortable for what you are training/racing- not comfortable for a morning sunrise and hot chocolate. On the note of comfort, I might also suggest the "onesy". Yes, that favorite childhood jumper has gone retro! Kidding. The onesy scared me at first thought of having my entire body outlined for everyone to see. Not to mention that NO ONE looks hot running; things shift and bounce in opposite directions causing appearance of unjustified epidermal eruptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last thing I need is full body coverage, but to my surprise it actually is quite slimming and feels like a giant "spanks" holding you in. It felt amazing in the swim as most of my two piecers fill up with water and may or may not be flapping in the wind after it dries out. Kiwami makes a brilliant (and expensive) custom suit! I think it's one of those "looks better on" situations!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-WIXIW1Ayw2yjKucMLhS6k7OUCHnk_uxnJ_jrOC61-CbaX4xsk9wzsCOBk2JeCei59G5iR_WDKBrMl_cJyyBIaEwgSPfM6vPEEYlLYA7DA5-JSdX3dqjKcsO7B1IDXFYbrxUM_MUskk/s1600/Amphibian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-WIXIW1Ayw2yjKucMLhS6k7OUCHnk_uxnJ_jrOC61-CbaX4xsk9wzsCOBk2JeCei59G5iR_WDKBrMl_cJyyBIaEwgSPfM6vPEEYlLYA7DA5-JSdX3dqjKcsO7B1IDXFYbrxUM_MUskk/s320/Amphibian.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MY onesy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Guys aren’t typically in my repertoire of rants on style as they really just don’t care. They have the right idea: don’t care what size and probably not what color, but DOES IT FIT? However, in the slight chance that one of you manly men are scared of a speedo or shorty shorts -get over it. Like your car's engine, each piece of clothing is designed to make you go FASTER, HARDER, and look cooler than any other guy. Let me tell you guys, a girl will turn her head for a man with confidence and a great pair of get-away sticks! I know one guy that dominates the athletic arena and in WHITE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>{drool}<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHa7ruQp99GtcvlFriue_BT0NnYuYYe_gZ55LdmTgxej7SOQ0aez4jFZRcw5uDnYDvCtc_eOz8YUjEwX8aoDeVV3pjiqu5Gs9Zxg_-_ET1fxRZNXTpDLvb7rT2HCmCifUD4Ds7d4yk6Pk/s1600/Lieto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHa7ruQp99GtcvlFriue_BT0NnYuYYe_gZ55LdmTgxej7SOQ0aez4jFZRcw5uDnYDvCtc_eOz8YUjEwX8aoDeVV3pjiqu5Gs9Zxg_-_ET1fxRZNXTpDLvb7rT2HCmCifUD4Ds7d4yk6Pk/s1600/Lieto.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How does he do it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUEo_w0mT5FI_Jk7L_PIIR1mjrMFBV6UUR0xTgjioTQ3VBI32v9Jfn8n2JmwtO8xk8-wH_5xhllqsQXwnZ69MqYVdGM2TrxpMOjoZ741lyQYBuUdh8hZHH9tLbU8JBm-yGpPWGJKE4Nds/s1600/Lito+cas-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUEo_w0mT5FI_Jk7L_PIIR1mjrMFBV6UUR0xTgjioTQ3VBI32v9Jfn8n2JmwtO8xk8-wH_5xhllqsQXwnZ69MqYVdGM2TrxpMOjoZ741lyQYBuUdh8hZHH9tLbU8JBm-yGpPWGJKE4Nds/s1600/Lito+cas-.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even dressed down!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Now that I’ve completed my rant about the oversized aversions, I won't neglect the undersized either. I must confess I CAN still wear my spandex from last season, but I’m also guilty of putting on a few pounds after being out on injury for 6 months. So, I’ve got 4 fingers pointing right back at me on this one. My curves went out and got their own zip code this year and I haven't done much re-wardrobing to accommodate the change. There are two ways to remedy the too tight fight: lose weight, buy bigger clothes. For ladies it’s a fight against a number, right? I refuse to spend money on "fat" clothes so I'm going with the first option. A sincere apology for anyone who rides behind me or swims next to me! While this may be a bit of a contradiction, I fuel my motivation with the extra “pull” I’m getting from my spandex. It reminds me not to harness the see-food diet and to push harder during my workouts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhp06HDHdYFAE3f3isB8-bdYO-hM5zaZPuSiqUGaPXP8Xvfbt1IMRFxCNV-HqH1aANf60dcx9pdbAXtK102QkQ_CJaR_kCa12M-aZqHMZJQhZpQLuFqPXydpZaZ1hPzUEGNyI8NZ4YjCw/s1600/tight+in+the+tush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhp06HDHdYFAE3f3isB8-bdYO-hM5zaZPuSiqUGaPXP8Xvfbt1IMRFxCNV-HqH1aANf60dcx9pdbAXtK102QkQ_CJaR_kCa12M-aZqHMZJQhZpQLuFqPXydpZaZ1hPzUEGNyI8NZ4YjCw/s320/tight+in+the+tush.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tight in the tush</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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I <em>could</em> buy bigger clothes but I believe that is a crutch. It's accepting that I expanded so rather than shrink back I just gave myself permission to eat a gallon of ice cream. As this cycle continues, I will need to refer back to the beginning of this blog on oversized clothes!<br />
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I hope this was a fun read for you as it was funny just to write and you ALL know the people I am referring to! If you are one of them, remedy immediately!<br />
I have a few things on the roster including Try Andy's Tri in Sugarland this weekend, Oilman 70.3 relay, and maybe a visit home for the half marathon. Happy Halloween! Mwahahahahaha!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6VsvDQs_jtw4V7Y7TutMF1UVI7oIOu7MmIa-cfiSlYylfO0O__z3bdh4QKGkYodtLVrp6bJaknnZ4V3ELBwihOCIxEKUF0Isa-anhIECSbVWFVW6CnteFzv4HKGq_yx3ocPm61bVFOk/s1600/moxie-pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6VsvDQs_jtw4V7Y7TutMF1UVI7oIOu7MmIa-cfiSlYylfO0O__z3bdh4QKGkYodtLVrp6bJaknnZ4V3ELBwihOCIxEKUF0Isa-anhIECSbVWFVW6CnteFzv4HKGq_yx3ocPm61bVFOk/s320/moxie-pumpkin.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtesy of Adri Lila!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-9967240532952896592011-09-20T06:40:00.000-07:002011-09-20T06:40:09.919-07:00HRTC Splash & DashA spectacular event happens once a month inside Houston. Friend, fellow athlete and treasurer of Houston Racing Triathlon Club, Michael Barney, spends his otherwise wearingly dull Friday evening hosting the Splash and Dash events! This event is composed of a 400 meter open water swim and a 1 mile cross country run! To the uncontrived eye it may appear mere child's play, no thanks to the finish line's slip and slide! However, to a competitor it is (hopefully) a sub-13 minute race to regurgitation. It was my first time competing in a splash and dash and boy was I surprised. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-l_v2N1DW83lBYYW2ZhcC2h1IGdSXm05DIHnY4JrGSHXconXrJOCTNcCgKGCgIQjxdVk2VaiBYRO9lEM-smc51WocLmElJZrXxGkQpoysLrMv15a8WuMetwsgPY0y2V-nJcFRg8OMCQ/s1600/header_default_975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="43" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-l_v2N1DW83lBYYW2ZhcC2h1IGdSXm05DIHnY4JrGSHXconXrJOCTNcCgKGCgIQjxdVk2VaiBYRO9lEM-smc51WocLmElJZrXxGkQpoysLrMv15a8WuMetwsgPY0y2V-nJcFRg8OMCQ/s400/header_default_975.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The great thing about triathlon is you have at least half an hour to catch your breath and get through all of your excuses: WHY you do the sport and how you're going to pull off your goal run and perhaps even what the meaning of life is. By the end of your ride you are certainly tired but have probably "manned-up" and talked yourself into the run portion. Not so much the case in a water-run course. You're expected to give all out effort and zero gravity, to all out effort and 3x your body weight gravity! Sheesh.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>We Left for the mini race a little after 5p.m. and got to Lake 288 about a quarter 'til 6. Of course my canine sidekick came along and we awaited the arrival of my best gal pals, Carrie and Gretchen, and the rest of the athletes. Since the race didn't start until 6:30, I took Bella down to the shore and we hopped in and did some doggie paddling. For whatever reason, my little Dane loves the water!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doggie paddling</td></tr>
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Finally, everyone arrives and Michael Barney hosts his traditional pre- race "meeting". For anyone that does not <strong>KNOW </strong>Barney, he tends to push the limits of almost any conversation. Part of his pre race speech is "No one has ever died..." Nice Barney! As we are listening to the rules of the race, I am scoping out my competition! Hey, we all do it! I was also doing some mental open water exercises on how NOT to freak out if I get hit or kicked or see glowing eyes or claws. I thought about what it feels like to push hard in a swim and my plan to transition as fast as possible without losing my cookies. I did some serious visualization on how I wanted this to play out. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhsv4tb5rkxQk7r-SQ61CGWJ4yictzjqnduc3sPTJl6XAafo0I0uPhEqLB-x0zwzNFAjTpRLHBZq0QOMxn4KWr_0TZlqOOwiZiANlsw1z3bs7E0yo7xCmaZ5t28XMiSdabPd2gsidW1Y/s1600/P9160012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqhsv4tb5rkxQk7r-SQ61CGWJ4yictzjqnduc3sPTJl6XAafo0I0uPhEqLB-x0zwzNFAjTpRLHBZq0QOMxn4KWr_0TZlqOOwiZiANlsw1z3bs7E0yo7xCmaZ5t28XMiSdabPd2gsidW1Y/s320/P9160012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Race Ready!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TAXYjdiybrAyf14tXgejQwPGIN6-k8tGjkfTfWPbJJqTOFfQAf2ljJpuc1DsIqw6n12UkKZJAz82ZVAd8FcdqU86WIXiKWxONoaTaZF8JvokrZfgX6jvfK7hdy8N5Eatnt2b83n9fk4/s1600/IMG00647-20110715-1831_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TAXYjdiybrAyf14tXgejQwPGIN6-k8tGjkfTfWPbJJqTOFfQAf2ljJpuc1DsIqw6n12UkKZJAz82ZVAd8FcdqU86WIXiKWxONoaTaZF8JvokrZfgX6jvfK7hdy8N5Eatnt2b83n9fk4/s320/IMG00647-20110715-1831_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Barney"<br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We were started off on a "Happy Birthday Devon",and the heat was on! I stayed with the front pack as long as I could but they split off pretty quickly so I kept my elbows high and turnover higher just to keep my pace. I knew Sabrina Haun, fellow triathlete and former bad-a** swimmer would smoke me, but I was determined to not be far from her out of the water. I believe I was second female out, but can't be too sure! The greatest accomplishment was I completed the swim 16 seconds faster than my last 400m time trial. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZcgkBck6BZQXET-2hh_izJq-Q_Oug0baWHhlg7NtofpBRhWvC2cpwkWXqC1d93lu8UqoMrCcyzbjBgS8R0AGgvoY8SJYodbqFSwhWHW602YBtwbpF80F_Xkb93msB07BwBQ0TypKo-4/s1600/P9160017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZcgkBck6BZQXET-2hh_izJq-Q_Oug0baWHhlg7NtofpBRhWvC2cpwkWXqC1d93lu8UqoMrCcyzbjBgS8R0AGgvoY8SJYodbqFSwhWHW602YBtwbpF80F_Xkb93msB07BwBQ0TypKo-4/s320/P9160017.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go go gadget LEGS!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
As I ran through the sand and grabbed my shoes, I lost some serious time struggling with wet feet and already secured laces. I honestly have no clue if it would have taken me longer to sit down and tie my shoes than to deal with that contraption "Yanks" came out with. In any case, my second place position was now a 3rd place struggle as my competitor was accustomed to the "Yanks". I took off hard and fast and again was surprised to endure the pain coming over my body. I slowed a bit to catch my breath then returned to my steady pace. I was relieved to see David Lynch and Stephen Milford on their way back, meaning I wasn't too far from the turn around! Sabrina came trudging by at a 7:19 pace and my 2nd place rival was just ahead. At the turn around, I gave myself a pep talk consisting of "don't worry about it, you got this, take it home, where are your legs... and... no one has ever died"! I kicked my pace up and passed a few people however couldn't quite catch the second place win. I did however make an epic fling onto the slip and slide for a 3rd place finish! Although, thinking back now, I believe people were looking at me like I had just<em> raced</em> a marathon, and may have been worried that I collapsed rather than actually <em>slid </em>across the finish. Total time was just under 15 minutes. My goal was to hit 14 minutes flat, but I do believe my lack luster transition and naive understanding of the difficulty of a splash and dash cost me my time. Many props to all the competitors that showed up and to Gretchen for shooting footage! Big congrats to Carrie for taking the time to not only compete but also for boycotting the slip and slide! :) NOT!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_cIvm8Cv2uzqT3RihWf5gBMpxneki6-_9LZXmfj-vZf-DsLzSfO22kpa9aFyKP3VlGm-jsadrnh8RHySI9fFXoHlrlQxkKB2vJaqjVhMHr3CWTU2uqTFGUVFLvsPs90yzXIiW94UR8s/s1600/P9160023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie_cIvm8Cv2uzqT3RihWf5gBMpxneki6-_9LZXmfj-vZf-DsLzSfO22kpa9aFyKP3VlGm-jsadrnh8RHySI9fFXoHlrlQxkKB2vJaqjVhMHr3CWTU2uqTFGUVFLvsPs90yzXIiW94UR8s/s320/P9160023.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grand Finale!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXsEgS6VI5gdfoZwHrkehIm9IVOswcP5ST3724YjMUa7dV1R91NO5cftXZiqiS9DljjMlmGsgdAPFCe87zBFlnxqzSVCAE_eZEtjAjILnyf0MC2nL3RgR77yXgKaNPJ_WULpdiprcZMY/s1600/P9160024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXsEgS6VI5gdfoZwHrkehIm9IVOswcP5ST3724YjMUa7dV1R91NO5cftXZiqiS9DljjMlmGsgdAPFCe87zBFlnxqzSVCAE_eZEtjAjILnyf0MC2nL3RgR77yXgKaNPJ_WULpdiprcZMY/s320/P9160024.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carrie does it her own way!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wqN8huaA0e8l3oSW-4_wOhMgavpTYTAXF4TyhCsA3A9Ihbu08sIuk2N-RIjtqz3nZL7AGECIIl_FfXDVvP1B2WWw6522c8MhapKoCo3CZmEKBrN6dYuzgOWtwEdn9gQjdaXWWmSx9Jk/s1600/P9160027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wqN8huaA0e8l3oSW-4_wOhMgavpTYTAXF4TyhCsA3A9Ihbu08sIuk2N-RIjtqz3nZL7AGECIIl_FfXDVvP1B2WWw6522c8MhapKoCo3CZmEKBrN6dYuzgOWtwEdn9gQjdaXWWmSx9Jk/s320/P9160027.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella waiting for me at the finish!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After the race we mingled in social custom, as per, complete with Alida's turkey burgers and my favorite, guacamole! Next event is in October when I plan to do some more work and see if I can match ol' Sabrina "Phelps" and give her a competitor! Thank you for reading, I hope you are thoroughly entertained with my tales of triathlon and related races!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCWmjbaOZkLMzcMrRT582Ssn3zYJHNzPRzVS_uMe1JM_h2RjyzaBvP2gYP5IEIliWiGPivxJHmGGynYNkvlRgTMOFCHCe1qQ1qVK-oFJTsJJiPEz_BbR0dD8ouBoGHM9mneCVCYP1ILs/s1600/P9160029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCWmjbaOZkLMzcMrRT582Ssn3zYJHNzPRzVS_uMe1JM_h2RjyzaBvP2gYP5IEIliWiGPivxJHmGGynYNkvlRgTMOFCHCe1qQ1qVK-oFJTsJJiPEz_BbR0dD8ouBoGHM9mneCVCYP1ILs/s320/P9160029.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All I do is Win Win Win! (Not pictured- charlie sheen)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPk2KsqwaOm2jqOOVPhkuBLAhm5r9_zZpGZhu4VwXC8lHJywYQS8DPUfxKxWlNP6d4tEI7TpyJKo6eBqvKP1JC_1GEGLzt-xsqBy3mOofppuQRkqVAmck-HZpCaekWSGu-_wQeAWr4b8/s1600/P9160009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPk2KsqwaOm2jqOOVPhkuBLAhm5r9_zZpGZhu4VwXC8lHJywYQS8DPUfxKxWlNP6d4tEI7TpyJKo6eBqvKP1JC_1GEGLzt-xsqBy3mOofppuQRkqVAmck-HZpCaekWSGu-_wQeAWr4b8/s320/P9160009.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always remember to have FUN!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0Houston, TX, USA29.7601927 -95.36938959999997729.4666387 -95.817134099999976 30.0537467 -94.921645099999978tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-59673997966730051012011-09-13T18:49:00.000-07:002011-09-13T18:52:59.007-07:0030 by 30: When Life StartsAs My 30th birthday is recklessly running me down, I am called to my last 29 years. I thumbed through the yearbooks of my school days reflecting on the retro fashions, rad lingo, fastidious taste buds, unwarranted primping time and superfluous commodities that once seemed such a necessity. My cassette tapes turned to CD's and again to digital music, my personal phone line and answering machine is now portable, more than $8 a month and gas prices are up a few dollars. I found some old birthday and holiday cards and wondered to whom the signature belonged but equally obliged as,then, it was appropo to hand write a note. There were pictures of my first day of school, my first first car, my first apartment and my first love. I found tears swelling under my lids as my recollection of the last time I spoke to a classmate, never called someone back, and fought with my brothers. The last ten years I traced my steps back to college, back to Dallas, back to finding the <em>real me.</em> <br />
I'm excited to include this tribute to the thirties as I have read it a few times but never with the perspective of a <span style="color: white;">woman</span> transitioning to my third decade! It was originally created by <a href="http://pamela-redmond-satran/"><span style="color: white;">pamela-redmond-satran</span></a> and published in Glamour magazine in 1997. I am reposting her list and, of course, adding a little flavour of my own as depicted in white text. As I enter this chapter here are the "<em>30 by 30"</em><br />
<div class="article-text" sizcache="12" sizset="129" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><ol><li>One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one, <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">or 10,</span> who reminds you of how far you’ve come.</li>
<li>A decent <span style="color: white;">home that is decorated, by you, that tells the <em>story of you</em></span></li>
<li>Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.</li>
<li><span style="color: purple;"> </span><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Lingerie that perfectly suits YOU to wear whenever you want</span></li>
<li>A purse, a suitcase and an umbrella you’re <span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">proud</span> </span>to be seen carrying.</li>
<li><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">An appreciation for a</span> youth you’re content to move beyond <span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">and how it has contributed to your life,</span> </span><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">but does not define you</span></li>
<li>A past <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">so fruitful</span><span style="color: purple;"> </span>that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.</li>
<li>The realization that you are actually going to <em>have</em> an old age—and some money set aside to help fund it.</li>
<li>An e-mail address, a voice mailbox and a bank account—all of which nobody has access to but you.</li>
<li>A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">personal AND professionally</span></li>
<li>One friend who always makes you laugh and <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">that </span>lets you cry.</li>
<li>A set of screwdrivers, a <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">flashlight, how to change a flat and a black lace bra</span></li>
<li>Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it, and the belief that you deserve it</li>
<li>A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.</li>
<li>A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship and all those other facets of life that <em>do</em> get better.</li>
</ol></div><h4><span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: black;">By 30, you should <em>know</em></span>:</span></h4><ol><li>How to fall in love without losing yourself.</li>
<li>How you feel about having kids <span style="color: white;">I am in the gray on this one, what if your mind changes when meeting your mate?</span></li>
<li>How to quit a job, break up with a man and confront a friend without ruining the <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">relationship.</span></li>
<li>When to <span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">work</span> </span>harder and when to walk away.</li>
<li>How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.</li>
<li>The names of: the secretary of state, your great-grandmother and the best tailor in town.</li>
<li>How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.</li>
<li>How to take control of your own <span style="color: #f3f3f3;">life, exude class and emanate fearlessness</span></li>
<li>That you can’t change the length of your calves, the width of your hips or the nature of your parents.</li>
<li>That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.</li>
<li>What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love </li>
<li>That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs<span style="color: purple;">, </span><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">lying </span>or not flossing for very long.</li>
<li>Who you can trust, who you can’t and why you shouldn’t take it personally.</li>
<li>Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"> and when to accept responsibility for things that are</span></li>
<li>Why they say life begins at 30</li>
</ol>Happy 30th Birthday to me and all of my friends who hit the big 3-0 this year ( and Kodi and Nick who turn 30 next year) Thank you for all the joy, memories and future!<br />
Here's a look back at my prequel to <em><span style="color: white;">life</span></em>:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYu4z3kQCTAIwSH4P31qr41dWqiMdG9dTf20CUVbuDXdQXqO8EjYj7SejemyTqrJhq_BvwbXJdYSFKqkh8hcMNwJjns6i5JEPk6aVtBIF_6YLe5KFkHk_r0x2PcCdCNetodf9vdAdSZs0/s1600/30+by+30+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYu4z3kQCTAIwSH4P31qr41dWqiMdG9dTf20CUVbuDXdQXqO8EjYj7SejemyTqrJhq_BvwbXJdYSFKqkh8hcMNwJjns6i5JEPk6aVtBIF_6YLe5KFkHk_r0x2PcCdCNetodf9vdAdSZs0/s400/30+by+30+collage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One big picture of little parts of my last 29 years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-10006584072035073402011-09-06T12:43:00.000-07:002011-09-06T12:43:35.732-07:00Summertime Blues: Back to BasicsLook what the cat drug in! "Summertime Blues" was not what I was feeling but my first race back this season! As many already know, I was in a freak accident back in April, two days out from Galveston as a matter of fact, and I ended up with 3 months booted and braced, and the rest of the season in rehab. My calling has always been running, but since rehab is taking longer than expected, I am still not up to speed. However, I swallowed my ego and signed up for the local sprint on September 4, 2011 in Freeport. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RvNpQ4MmPZSWy37SZ46o3dJpMFmwMAYgQnaPPtRLB14IgUh5Zsl_AI-4VVG4L8xplS3S8NiK4GQ5EsazalkEcY1JUHnzLX9TG_4qANd-6Idd3yVPcZ0gFbSiym-HFI76puvIau2dZH4/s1600/2011_stb_rackcard_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RvNpQ4MmPZSWy37SZ46o3dJpMFmwMAYgQnaPPtRLB14IgUh5Zsl_AI-4VVG4L8xplS3S8NiK4GQ5EsazalkEcY1JUHnzLX9TG_4qANd-6Idd3yVPcZ0gFbSiym-HFI76puvIau2dZH4/s320/2011_stb_rackcard_front.jpg" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><br />
I was feeling pretty good just coming off an epic week of altitude training so the morning of I had no pain, only a little jittery. We arrived in Freeport, cheerleader in tow (Gretchen) and began to get transition set up and i remembered my love for this sport. I saw some new friends out there and they looked as surprised as I was to actually be racing. The weather was fairly mild for the hotter than hell temperatures I've grown to despise in Houston. nonetheless, this was my first time back and I was going to do what my body would allow! After my area was set up, I walked over for body marking. Special shout out to my best little fan and volunteer, Cassie Toler for all the artsy work she drew on me in permanent marker. It was fun and reminded me that we are all there to have fun. I walked back over to transition for my goggles and swim cap in lieu of getting a warm up in the water as I have never competed in a salt water race! I found Sabrina Haun, an up and coming youngster to the sport , who helped calm my nerves as I measured my set up against hers. Thankfully I remembered how to set up and what gear I needed. We went over to the "Swim out" and as I slid my goggles down over my face, I also slid my foot right over a slimy sharp rock. It hurt for a second but I continued on my warm-up not knowing what I had just done to my foot. <br />
Salt water tastes something nasty, like when you put salt instead of sugar in your morning java! That will wake you right up! ICKY. <br />
We exited the water and went over to transition for one last check on our gear, then I noticed the trail of blood I was leaving behind. It seems that little slimy rock left me with a "brand". I really hadn't noticed the damage I had done. A nice older man offered me some tape so I wrapped that sucker up ( thank you athletic training background!) and was on my way to start my race!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNLBWq5EwVkcpDwIEi1rhlfJk2l1uoUg2exy3OsseVNJeMr2Cz0zQ_yiScOYI7c0YV-_W2WcbQBOA3jQmhW1kSwCLRhZHQmcSAS3xJlZcIhbP0y3qft-R8LNNvSUEmZIDBe6elTkldsU/s1600/warm+up+cut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNLBWq5EwVkcpDwIEi1rhlfJk2l1uoUg2exy3OsseVNJeMr2Cz0zQ_yiScOYI7c0YV-_W2WcbQBOA3jQmhW1kSwCLRhZHQmcSAS3xJlZcIhbP0y3qft-R8LNNvSUEmZIDBe6elTkldsU/s320/warm+up+cut.jpg" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice little war wound<br />
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</tbody></table> My wave started at 7:20 a.m. which was awesome because I got to see the lead swimmers come in! Of course I was yelling at them and getting myself psyched for the 500 m salty swim I was about to endure. Finally, the gun goes off and I hit the water. Last season, a good friend helped me a lot in the open water. He would always tell me " just go all out the first 200 and get it out of your system", that advice has always done me right. Thanks Bubba! I did get all my nerves and lake monster fears out of the way the first 200m and allowed myself to settle in at a nice pace. The most difficult part of the swim was coming back directly against the current, and getting whacked pretty good in the rib! I managed to be 3rd out of the water in my age group, but the real gratification was making my goal : 8:30!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXy_3OzEbvb9rhoI-rFmCCAHPGv2Mo8vE03LGBYr7ohJEwFR5LU7Q4tgzHDgMp2suoj8bABbSDUzC9FJoN_h1bHxA17Lad1WOYpzpuFF9eYFV2IfStLcRrUWQH1xqS8nfk5mxZz62O-Y/s1600/swim+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXXy_3OzEbvb9rhoI-rFmCCAHPGv2Mo8vE03LGBYr7ohJEwFR5LU7Q4tgzHDgMp2suoj8bABbSDUzC9FJoN_h1bHxA17Lad1WOYpzpuFF9eYFV2IfStLcRrUWQH1xqS8nfk5mxZz62O-Y/s320/swim+out.jpg" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">salty dawg!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On your left!</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
I hustled through transition like a wild fire only taking me 50 seconds to gear up and put my wheels down! I managed to nail a semi flying mount and looked so legit in my aero helmet! I'm sure it was quite a sight! Going out on the course, there were 15 mph winds and much higher gusts as we rode beach side. However, it was a tail wind helping me along at first, but coming back really distinguished the ladies from the women! I'm a decent climber so getting over the toughest part of the bike route was a bridge. Against all laws of cycling, I climbed in aero position : head down, arms down, knees tucked close to my top tube. This is likely the ONLY place I can toot my own horn, as many of these guys and gals were on my rear or passing me until we got to this bridge. I picked off 9 people going up and over that hill! That being said, the way back was a much different scene. I had a headwind, some really tired legs, and yep blood streaming through my cleat and onto the ground! This is where I lost my edge! Headwind -1: Jenn-0! Learning experience!. I came in third off the bike with a 49:29. I'm happy with that also, as there is so much more to biking when there was a swim before it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rk5Aj1c27hj5WQPcz8K19TjvFq4ozIhZ8xKLwyfFFqi9hywLWEARHKSfOCzzxxGOMqJ3Gq8ZPfm5zjzPRztV9GpPnai0SxAAYXFyB8uOmH4H30QRN_6wmGbaBQCJd5MoFNirDe-oG6o/s1600/aero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rk5Aj1c27hj5WQPcz8K19TjvFq4ozIhZ8xKLwyfFFqi9hywLWEARHKSfOCzzxxGOMqJ3Gq8ZPfm5zjzPRztV9GpPnai0SxAAYXFyB8uOmH4H30QRN_6wmGbaBQCJd5MoFNirDe-oG6o/s320/aero.jpg" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aero-dynamics!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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Back into transition for the last leg of my race, I immediately noticed that the tape around my foot was now pink/red so ripped it off and left it for dead. I pulled my flats to my feet an d was on the run. I must be completely humble here as this is where I lost <em>my </em>race. Although I am pleased with my swim and bike results, my run was something-unique. I was on pace to hit about a 21:30 5k, put lost my cookies after a mile. It seems my broken rib and bloody foot was not something my body wanted to overlook, but I did talk it into a walk/sprint pattern for a bit. The harder I had to breathe, the more my rib fought me! Ok, ok I surrender! These things happen, so I got real- <em>just finish it! </em> I ran it in as hard as I had left but still only ended up with a 10:47 pace. YIKES! That is the slowest time I have ever run/walked in my life. I swear I didn't stop for a latte' or to give a speech, but that is what it was! I was amplified once again to hear the announcer call my name as I crossed the finish line in 4th place for my age group, 1:32. Do we ever get tired of hearing that we completed our goal?<br />
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My biggest lesson of this race, is that I didn't go <strong>against</strong> my body. I set realistic goals and didn't beat the snot out of myself for not pushing beyond my limits. <em> I finished it</em>. <em> </em>My friends and supporters were there cheering me on like my life depended on it. They, and I, all know what this seasons struggles have been and crossing the finish line I was reminded of when walking was a daily task. I'm grateful that I was ABLE to race. I wouldn't trade that for a first place win any day. Thank you to all the people that sent me well wishes and cheered me on before, during and after the race. It means a lot to a stubborn athlete when we have other stubborn athletes supporting us! I have much more work to do and I am looking forward to a couple more races before the season's end !<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1A5yHoMwatQE28b8UxlFGCpLcNGONs9vfHiZ_1eOU4VQF1sM3cTjWV959NnRP9db_3Q3RxhOYw5z85LqmRYTOtsLU_KgRHnyFQmjR8i9zuXV3VCAp5OWGALlhnMR9sO6em34TCnAPC8/s1600/IMG00759-20110906-1309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1A5yHoMwatQE28b8UxlFGCpLcNGONs9vfHiZ_1eOU4VQF1sM3cTjWV959NnRP9db_3Q3RxhOYw5z85LqmRYTOtsLU_KgRHnyFQmjR8i9zuXV3VCAp5OWGALlhnMR9sO6em34TCnAPC8/s320/IMG00759-20110906-1309.jpg" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella loves her medal!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-13120347169328938162011-09-01T13:02:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:02:47.598-07:00Altitude Training 2011<div style="text-align: justify;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGoAao9pTcnlbWyNpirjHn16-h238_bqNYkZ8A7xoj2NtwYtjLYeGNu5lDI-OtpeEIoOTiF2ugJPRCoKaCnL1RFJvKkbHTcgj0SkdTq5gUqsMwD2PRnlcRE7MJUkRQQCLSgmKLny1YM0/s1600/P8200040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGoAao9pTcnlbWyNpirjHn16-h238_bqNYkZ8A7xoj2NtwYtjLYeGNu5lDI-OtpeEIoOTiF2ugJPRCoKaCnL1RFJvKkbHTcgj0SkdTq5gUqsMwD2PRnlcRE7MJUkRQQCLSgmKLny1YM0/s200/P8200040.JPG" width="150" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This didn't go quite as planned</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>August in Houston is anything but pleasurable. Everyday feels like a roaring heat wave with a vendetta at hand! So, in my quest to relax and get in some solid training, we packed our bags: swim bag, bike bag, run bag, casual bag, hand bag, doggie bag, and the old bag and headed to Pagosa Springs, CO. This trip was quite the adventure, as 16 hours stuck in a car with little to no supervision with my camera produced quite an entertaining scene.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMYZJX2dM3UReMHDJspvwmCcYABZU-booQvwCRKTo-eLX6aqhPVw_oOoAoNDZoPFub4P-ROsDHpbSxe0AsJLNukLbJbpgl8g7-wN4_oUenh5fdnu19ETDRTsu6CSN63GDPUEDw0L6q8c/s1600/P8200030.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMYZJX2dM3UReMHDJspvwmCcYABZU-booQvwCRKTo-eLX6aqhPVw_oOoAoNDZoPFub4P-ROsDHpbSxe0AsJLNukLbJbpgl8g7-wN4_oUenh5fdnu19ETDRTsu6CSN63GDPUEDw0L6q8c/s320/P8200030.JPG" /></a><br />
What a great Navigator!<br />
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We arrived on Saturday and stopped in town for lunch at Farrago's. Eclectic place that seemed to specialize in an assortment of tacos and a true discovery: habanero salsa. HOT! As we relaxed and made some friends across the spread of the patio, we realized it was getting rather late so we headed to the boarding quarters. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5aWjg7PTw2lOyuIzIHnBCxy_eHqMfKIHjfpLewiYHufrMjvi8luj-c-5t2kP_zXn9hnKV0vgBv_oUD_Qoq_L3pFnnZnK3YWwWMXcvIELaXm5oDn8Iy21tZ_FQy1b48IimKV2zjUcv5s/s1600/P8200033.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5aWjg7PTw2lOyuIzIHnBCxy_eHqMfKIHjfpLewiYHufrMjvi8luj-c-5t2kP_zXn9hnKV0vgBv_oUD_Qoq_L3pFnnZnK3YWwWMXcvIELaXm5oDn8Iy21tZ_FQy1b48IimKV2zjUcv5s/s320/P8200033.JPG" /></a><br />
Just a few more miles!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0EymIrM5dUssK0XZgYn_Nv3cfupNAOtGT49vhdXndxLuolXxag9K3wW_Czh1Siw8wPc7jsT-XFUBra6BBFTs-V3agcP8MvlXpAY2gwCkg8bTy8xFu3bd1H0hCvuT5Gpd9jaFYavjsmuo/s1600/P8210063.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0EymIrM5dUssK0XZgYn_Nv3cfupNAOtGT49vhdXndxLuolXxag9K3wW_Czh1Siw8wPc7jsT-XFUBra6BBFTs-V3agcP8MvlXpAY2gwCkg8bTy8xFu3bd1H0hCvuT5Gpd9jaFYavjsmuo/s320/P8210063.JPG" /></a>Now, I was aware that most of the Pagosans were retired and had a fairly comfortable lifestyle, however when we made our way up the drive my eyes almost popped clear out of their orbitals! Ironically, my lungs also felt like they were going to deflate as we were staying at 7500 feet. I don't mean to call too much attention to the private home, however it was better than anything I have ever seen! Stephen's parents were quite the hosts with their "extra everything" debonair. I can not thank them enough for offering up their extra room and the incredible food! YUM!<br />
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On Sunday I had my first experience running uphill both ways! Did I mention it was 7500ft? It is funny how I thought I was a pretty good "climber" but at 7% grade and breath taking altitude, everything changes! I even split a toenail with all the training! Later that day we made our way "downtown" to experience some local monuments, history, and of course more food! Pagosa is known for a hot spring located in the center of the town. If I am not mistaken, it is up for the Guinness book of world records for the deepest Hot Spring. Stephen said the geologists dropped a line to measure the depth, but ran out of line! This was my first time at a hot spring so it was rather ...odd. It smelled like rotten eggs and bubbled like old faithful. I am reminded of the "Bog of Eternal Stench" from The Labyrinth". I also couldn't help but want to touch it...but I didn't! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKYik6tqe2wSAd0nTnWqrU97_Fl5LUP8nK8Yj_BFptV19a0Qc78aMPCnESY4yY8x7afNOucVLXf368DmIwhBohdgdsRLdmZTUqNHDcTCeKerjdEKbVzu_5QiZBWzV39Fc2gce2qRsaFo/s1600/P8210042.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpKYik6tqe2wSAd0nTnWqrU97_Fl5LUP8nK8Yj_BFptV19a0Qc78aMPCnESY4yY8x7afNOucVLXf368DmIwhBohdgdsRLdmZTUqNHDcTCeKerjdEKbVzu_5QiZBWzV39Fc2gce2qRsaFo/s320/P8210042.JPG" /></a><br />
In front of the HOT Spring<br />
We made our way around town playing a giant game of chess. I thought I knew how to play, but my intellect failed me as I was thinking of Connect 4! I lost, miserably. Even though my efforts at chest were a loss, I did win big with my frugal new white Kentucky Derby hat! Love that thing! Last stop in town was at the Olde Malt Shop, where $1 will get you a 12 in ice cream cone!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixckqeUxRwcfVjVGRqjTAcZ3fEx_I_kBPZU6PpUV-aHJ-gQN-AImKbD8gqV4JMFiV08Mr-GssQPHDGc8WsTVa25cFPJWl8OtQKqxWqkN8nl3CyZW_vCmSrFea2gHL8HjLxeF2uiMCFig4/s1600/P8210048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixckqeUxRwcfVjVGRqjTAcZ3fEx_I_kBPZU6PpUV-aHJ-gQN-AImKbD8gqV4JMFiV08Mr-GssQPHDGc8WsTVa25cFPJWl8OtQKqxWqkN8nl3CyZW_vCmSrFea2gHL8HjLxeF2uiMCFig4/s320/P8210048.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was NOT impressed!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJaPXjlFynE4gN0cLhMUr2HocbvAx6O-aeEsekRJhRz9MiLRg9c2znsb-bTKISNsUz_r28fR1Z7jRDOPIL43LR2EvFy0-JThfy4Iuz32HWpz6837kglcw1Slus3KFUy8ybTjhQULdZya0/s1600/P8210058.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJaPXjlFynE4gN0cLhMUr2HocbvAx6O-aeEsekRJhRz9MiLRg9c2znsb-bTKISNsUz_r28fR1Z7jRDOPIL43LR2EvFy0-JThfy4Iuz32HWpz6837kglcw1Slus3KFUy8ybTjhQULdZya0/s320/P8210058.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dream hat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> On Monday we had our first long ride through the mountains. On a regularly oxygenated day, it takes me about 30 minutes to warm up. But this day it took me almost an hour! I really don't know how to depict such incredible scenery, but it truly was magnificent! We rode and rode and rode. Windhaven Hill ain't got nothing on me!<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> After biking for just over 2 hours, we took a break to eat and get cleaned up then we made our way up to 10, 000 feet for my first hike. Well, we drove up to 12, 000 feet then hiked across the Continental Divide via a little "bushwhacking" I have never been so scared of heights in my life! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDT1AhanShHqM_0HegAdzZU652uethpDWGm04zq5QfPHHX3ylNnpGxDy_p1623o5Y8AdfWQgB3O67WB2AX-yiVAuDYMz2dCKl25BQ6yxKPQiN_S-2TSJgAfyRfSyIgvHD7TMB49H1KoGw/s1600/WP_000184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDT1AhanShHqM_0HegAdzZU652uethpDWGm04zq5QfPHHX3ylNnpGxDy_p1623o5Y8AdfWQgB3O67WB2AX-yiVAuDYMz2dCKl25BQ6yxKPQiN_S-2TSJgAfyRfSyIgvHD7TMB49H1KoGw/s320/WP_000184.jpg" width="240" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBW_pMash3xZfSRsTamDzpFbEh9j9VytasBEaTWSNk06tKNfitq-Q7Os3H3iLxarEPEZRIJVoo4NDRoo2j77LDiw4Z-3mkFMPRAuV5GkgcKOb9Rx0ul0xXTmaaZj9kRBCBJjm0o-js-M/s1600/P8230080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBW_pMash3xZfSRsTamDzpFbEh9j9VytasBEaTWSNk06tKNfitq-Q7Os3H3iLxarEPEZRIJVoo4NDRoo2j77LDiw4Z-3mkFMPRAuV5GkgcKOb9Rx0ul0xXTmaaZj9kRBCBJjm0o-js-M/s320/P8230080.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><br />
Tuesday brought yet another day of running. This time I was a little faster and I could tell I was more acclimated to the altitude. I took it rather easy, however, as my foot and knee were feeling pretty good so I wanted to keep it that way. Stephen, on the other hand, blew me away with his superior engine and 26 year old physiology. No worries, not everything is a competition! After our run, we really ad no plans so we decided to drive into Durango to see what the hipsters were up to! Durango reminded me of Austin but without all the cool shops! We ate lunch at a place called Carver's where the food and ale was delightful and the waitstaff was...questionable. Our waitress wore a Carver's tee with a black and gray knee length skirt, fully equipped with a petty coat and one of those snazzy ankle monitors. She must have been a rebel! After lunch. we made our way down main street browsing in and out of shops. To say the least it was a good place to watch people but not so much to actually shop! But I am told I 'm a little to "Dallas" for the mountains! That's probably true. Keen sandals are NOT my idea of great shoes!<br />
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Wednesday was very relaxed as we went out for a steady bike ride, but first we experienced the local coffee shop "Higher Grounds". We left on our bikes from the house and road there, sat on the patio with our lattes and got ramped up for our ride back through the mountains! On our way there, I noticed a "Moxie" salon, so I snapped a quick picture for my Moxie peeps based in Austin. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAXY91kps6ctQJYpcDXg-J1qRN8uOFjMRL5yUY_qXaGPNak6w3ixMMY8j4J6JjfYWByJ04Ymx2NbPmoWfmK_MYGc8gAe_KqnzON6k1hzCAGPvco3p06aJQmH1ALRpGhxoftRPdj6dPNM/s1600/P8230076.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgAXY91kps6ctQJYpcDXg-J1qRN8uOFjMRL5yUY_qXaGPNak6w3ixMMY8j4J6JjfYWByJ04Ymx2NbPmoWfmK_MYGc8gAe_KqnzON6k1hzCAGPvco3p06aJQmH1ALRpGhxoftRPdj6dPNM/s320/P8230076.JPG" /></a><br />
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Higher Grounds<br />
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What's Your Moxie?<br />
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Later Wednesday night we decided to hit the local karaoke bar and produce some live entertainment! As many of you know, I am a sucker for live music, even if I have to do it myself! We were surprised at the turn out of young people and older crowd to boot. My two competitors "punked" my vocal styling something fierce. The best singer of the night was a beautiful yet oddly dressed 70-ish woman that sang the tar out of Etta James. The second place lady was a tad younger, but just as uniquely dressed and hypnotized the crowd with her version of Celine Dion. She nailed it! Yours truly blew the place away ( or maybe just their eardrums) with "Sweet Child of Mine".<br />
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Sweet Child of Mine! </div><br />
Thursday was a late morning as karaoke got the best of us. Nonetheless, the Milford's were up and at 'em ready to take us on a 5 mile hike through Piedra. As an athlete that is accustomed to hard work, I never saw this coming. Hiking through the rocky terrain, heat, humidity and altitude was something I was hardly expecting. I began to feel very shaky and dizzy, yet my experienced counterparts seem to truck along just fine! We stopped along side the river for a little R&R and Stephen unleashed a hidden talent: skipping rocks. I also attempted the skill, however my rendition was more like "chucking rocks". Here's a video of our expedition!<br />
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Our last day in Pagosa was Friday as we wanted to meet up for some fun in Lubbock on Saturday afternoon. So we did our bike workout early in the morning then pretty much sat around all day. I had a smidgen of altitude sickness, so I didn't want to move much. We watched an assortment of live comedy until Stephen decided on being a little more active and playing Kinect. I'm not much of a "gamer" as I don't understand what all the button functions do, but Kinect was right up my alley! I watched him play for a little while, mostly laughing in hysteria, but when we loaded the dancing game...well he got served! Check this out!<br />
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Saturday morning I was sad to leave such a phenomenal place, however, we loaded up our stuff and headed back to Texas at 6 am! We made it in to Lubbock around 2:45pm where we met up with my buddy Cam for a luau. I was so excited to see him and hang out with new people, but the pig roast threw me way off. That's right, these boys did it up right! The entire back yard of Blake's house was completely Hawaiian equipped with a huge sandbox, tiki torches, tiki hut, hula girls, and a roasting pig. I was kind of scared of this pig as it was huge. But luckily the Hawaiian tradition i to bury it in the ground under very hot rocks for HOURS. It was quite a sight to see 5 grown men digging up pig that I later learned they also killed themselves! Grunt, grunt, scratch! Most favorable moment was when Cam won the best Coconut contest! I am not sure what that means for the rest of the ladies there, but good job to Cam!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z5WsX85_CJ0pXJPut07KzBAJ7GfZ9PxrZ11PO8dmJOWuNZaE6cVSrICrXsLcwHyIuvUtQE5Tj-g3uRCTmiagginuQDSB2oMKmBSircmhyphenhyphen6DciU1EeBNYCy9jSRdd8sxhwZn67_91sEI/s1600/P8270118.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Z5WsX85_CJ0pXJPut07KzBAJ7GfZ9PxrZ11PO8dmJOWuNZaE6cVSrICrXsLcwHyIuvUtQE5Tj-g3uRCTmiagginuQDSB2oMKmBSircmhyphenhyphen6DciU1EeBNYCy9jSRdd8sxhwZn67_91sEI/s320/P8270118.JPG" /></a><br />
Cam and me as Hula Girls!<br />
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One BIG piggy!<br />
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Cam's Big Win! <br />
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Sunday, we made our way back home to Houston. I must say the time away was great. I did a lot of training and recentering myself. I have always said that what ever is going on in your head will manifest itself in your body. For me, it proved to be true particularly during this trip. I got real with me as the everyday stresses of getting back on my feet pun intended) were impairing my training and thinking. I'm so fortunate to have a close group of friends to help pull my through these times. A very special thanks to the Milford's, Stephen, Mel and Jim Yarzy for watching my Bella, to Gretchen, Carrie and Marcia for texting me the entire time I was gone, to Erica for listening to my thoughts as they unfolded, and to Debbie for knowing how to get blood out of fabric! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. The full assortment of pictures can be found on facebook for your entertainment! <br />
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Bella and Max!<br />
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Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-36450074040591600962011-08-30T13:44:00.000-07:002011-08-30T13:44:51.861-07:00Strong WomenStrong. How do you define the word? How did you come to that definition and why? If I were going to draw a picture of strong it might be an "Omega" sign. If I wanted to see a picture of strong I might see a person with an abundance of hypertrophy. Yet when I use the word strong as an adjective to <em>women</em> my perspective shifts and I am flooded with millions of images, circumstances and a little wit to soften my aggressive thoughts on the matter. Lady Gaga, uncanny but strong. Wonderwoman, supernatural but strong. The full conglomeration of my girlfriends- all strong. <br />
I'm thinking on another wavelength today as I am troubled by my friends' troubles. Yet as I have cleared my head in attempt to give my best advice to all four of these women, I have realized that their stirs <em>are</em> their strengths. I believe that the challenges we face, even if we created them, are the very lessons that present our life strength. I'm not positive inner strength can be measured in pounds or milligrams or money or manipulation, but what it takes to retain contentment with ourselves.<br />
I'm recalling four close friends who have, after much contemplation, have left their unhappy and unfulfilling relationships to move FORWARD in their lives. That is strong! They are undoubtedly feeling moments of weakness and perhaps cowardice, but it is their determination to live a great life that inspires me. No doubt people will cast stones, but unless you are trapped <strong>IN</strong> a glass house, maybe you shouldn't. <br />
I am reminded of my friends who have children with special needs. Having no children except a hyperactive Great Dane, I can only think I can imagine what it must be like to wake up and care hand and foot on another human being for the rest of YOUR life. The worries of others that might ridicule or be fearful of these children and who will watch after them long after their parents are gone. I left for 9 days and worried myself into a frenzy about a <strong>dog</strong>. What would it be like with a child? I solute the women (and men) that show their strength to their children day after day without complaint. Strong!<br />
I am reminded of a young lady and triathlete, Liz, that lost her sister then her boyfriend in one defeaning crash. The courage it took for her to stay true to herself and allow her friends supportand her beliefs guide her way, was inarguably strong. I still wonder how she keeps living,racing and trusting without any visual sign of defeat. Strength! She is one of my biggest inspirations and for her model of strength, I am grateful. <br />
I am reminded of my friend Nicole, that moved away years ago from our sad little provincial town, alone, and never looked back. She finds strength everyday to wake up, go to the gym, go to work and be one of the most selfless people I know. Without her strength I know I couldn't have made it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYAUwJjk0DYpgGaZKqJI9fkYRWNeUC4JHMMhUdq4uQd3ja-h8fm6mRSyR5PESDgVslHk_rMYsU5nTvxwmWJ0jyvMNkSXmNByu4S-cukpmzfI64p7w8_pKpC2eOe1_ueAvOZMpJiykM1vI/s1600/P9100071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYAUwJjk0DYpgGaZKqJI9fkYRWNeUC4JHMMhUdq4uQd3ja-h8fm6mRSyR5PESDgVslHk_rMYsU5nTvxwmWJ0jyvMNkSXmNByu4S-cukpmzfI64p7w8_pKpC2eOe1_ueAvOZMpJiykM1vI/s320/P9100071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> As I become clearer on who my friends are, I am fortunate also to have Gretchen, a fellow triathlete ut an even bigger role model. The old saying " When life throws you lemons..."is the epitomy of her. No matter what the situation, she makes a mean glass of lemonade! I've yet to see her lose her cool, and what's better than a cold glass of lemonade? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXgeiwH0aBKA_WJmGgCM8mZso5Qhzcq0UPRhVyJVp2fxnzRBredO5olOkZZNMQIW5Nv0r8xE8WnPCXtydtCY28DgKl0pH4mx9sRyla02oil3106My-lwvisGwjimKjxmPG2bGP1HAQV4/s1600/P7160008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXgeiwH0aBKA_WJmGgCM8mZso5Qhzcq0UPRhVyJVp2fxnzRBredO5olOkZZNMQIW5Nv0r8xE8WnPCXtydtCY28DgKl0pH4mx9sRyla02oil3106My-lwvisGwjimKjxmPG2bGP1HAQV4/s320/P7160008.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> How could I forget my soul sister Erica? She is a true symbol of rags to riches. In the time I have known her, she has worried herself into a blunder on the tides of being a business owner now only to be surfing the successful highway of entrepreneurship and coming nto her own life- as SHE wants it.<br />
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Strength. I have sat here thinking of all the ways strong can be illustrated and I am humbled by its humble nature. Strong is what you or I do when noone else is looking. It is who we are and who we have the courage to be. It is the voice in your head beating the hell of the villain that opposed you. It is the focus, the drive, the "oh what the hell go for it anyway". It is my favorite quality in people as it takes on countless personas. It is Debbie and Shayna and how their mother /daughter relationship will indefinitely thrive superceding their lifespans and pass on to their children.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQPHfbV37Q_7p-i-6MAFgh6WY_cIFkVOmSq6_jtEufHuZ3D6J7k_EehjnQNuviogi_WJz8GdQNi66JZZTdXVxrFLTm5239wrJxJSfm5ZL_zVk89LJ25P5obas129FUcZyZuIbPkTp3Pk/s1600/wein+ladies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQPHfbV37Q_7p-i-6MAFgh6WY_cIFkVOmSq6_jtEufHuZ3D6J7k_EehjnQNuviogi_WJz8GdQNi66JZZTdXVxrFLTm5239wrJxJSfm5ZL_zVk89LJ25P5obas129FUcZyZuIbPkTp3Pk/s1600/wein+ladies.jpg" /></a></div> It is my mother, perhaps one of the strongest I have known, who worked more than she saw her children, who lost more than she gained, who was the "black sheep" but rose to the occasion and raised us all on her own. My mother, who always served herself last masking poverty from us, bought us a home, and sent us out on our own to become- strong. <br />
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I have not felt particularly strong lately and I know it is short lived. Whn I see the strength from those around me under the pressures they have, and yet they still rise to the top, I am epowered. I felt inclined to make a blog about them, and draw my strength from them. I hope they don't mind that I have put it into words. "Don't ever think one person can't change the world, for that is all who ever have"- Margaret Mead<br />
Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-49940616455555348812011-08-17T02:29:00.000-07:002011-08-17T02:29:29.626-07:00Hey, What's goin' on?<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It is mid August and I have been in Houston or "the dirty south" for about 6 weeks now. I spent the first few weeks getting acquainted with I-45 and surrounding super targets, as well as making friends and socializing with local triathletes. Houston is a fast paced city and it has Austin attitude. Although I didn't expect Houston to fit my fancy, I have grown quite comfortable and pleased with what it has to offer...especially since the beach is minutes from the house!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEWyOyxIbPN6-F-Gq_CPUCuGYe5VbUCPdifRb1Z4BVNrfwGHtFw5_vm8xXz9riJxjrXWls_4FZ2sjfKqihFIiQTvBM5AnJl1PDnqs9e4G9fNmzaoDFjh0pS0v0tNJ8ZTQlepkK862Vms/s1600/P7130031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEWyOyxIbPN6-F-Gq_CPUCuGYe5VbUCPdifRb1Z4BVNrfwGHtFw5_vm8xXz9riJxjrXWls_4FZ2sjfKqihFIiQTvBM5AnJl1PDnqs9e4G9fNmzaoDFjh0pS0v0tNJ8ZTQlepkK862Vms/s320/P7130031.JPG" width="258" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mandy came down for a beach day</span></div>I've experienced quite a few unique restaurants, and Boondoggles gets my vote for best in class! They employ an eclectic yet satisfactory staff, are located on the water and of course Bella-friendly. They also have arguably the best spinach salad and margherita pizza in the south!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKObHQDzfoM0fVVeNQ3NXBTQw8Q_zU7U4wjK6CanbY7BF2p_W_P3DGkKIkn_jWXieS2p928SD1368QIu5TF9jyH56fclMW9A8BWBEBP1oSTvxMm_NvuTfoyMYbOVYVwwPQ_0NFJ2T5hk/s1600/Bella+Boon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKObHQDzfoM0fVVeNQ3NXBTQw8Q_zU7U4wjK6CanbY7BF2p_W_P3DGkKIkn_jWXieS2p928SD1368QIu5TF9jyH56fclMW9A8BWBEBP1oSTvxMm_NvuTfoyMYbOVYVwwPQ_0NFJ2T5hk/s320/Bella+Boon.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Bella and me at Boondoggles</span></div>I have become quite familiar with two Houston tri communities, HRTC and BAM! Both organizations host swim, bike, run workouts on a weekly basis and I do my best to frequent as many as possible. The hardest workout I do all week is called the "Paperclip". It is so geniously named after the 22 mile loop shape like...a paperclip. This event isn't for the weak, on the contrary, it is all "roadies". Although nice individuals, they take off at lightening speeds and if you blink, you'll be on your own. I ride like a bat out of hell just to stay close, however drafting is illegal in triathlon so peletons are not for me! To that point, I do believe I will be <em>ready</em> for the Summertime Blues sprint tri and planning to make it to Dallas for the US Open in October. I am also toying with competing in the Longhorn 70.3 this season...just for giggles. <br />
I spent hours researching and put my networking fingers out there when a good friend of mine from D.C. suggested I apply at Timberline Fitness in the midtown area. He's one of the most intuitive people I call a friend, so I did! Low and behold the stars were aligned and the moon was high because Timberline owner Dean Theriot had been a client of my MAT founder and creator years ago and was sold on the idea of bringing me on! This past weekend I gave a symposium for anyone who wanted a closer look at MAT. I must say, I was concerned only few would show up, but ended up standing room only! I am fortunate to have such a supportive group to work with and can not wait to see what else we will accomplish together!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx7GOoCR_FJgyrLEnh1_nSypmyhfehLFu9ixrjorjCSK3stgzrnE9OTxB9sQ6bRK6HmeOtH29HyQubEQgCIhA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> a glimpse inside Timberlne</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHI_ZMeVf9WQaERVCXOkEQf-W-teS5RZIzkbAO1a_4F-sOdaSepYLdvpjr0CvBn2xoFIenDck_XVnN7l0KTva3_3WpnRXnZ1khaxuj5QuFxIFsnOdTJHKSRBfn2I-eIhNJKQ_sWUcV3pI/s1600/P8130020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHI_ZMeVf9WQaERVCXOkEQf-W-teS5RZIzkbAO1a_4F-sOdaSepYLdvpjr0CvBn2xoFIenDck_XVnN7l0KTva3_3WpnRXnZ1khaxuj5QuFxIFsnOdTJHKSRBfn2I-eIhNJKQ_sWUcV3pI/s320/P8130020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Reviewing my notes before the presentation</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">While I have settled in seemingly well, there are pieces of Dallas I miss, mostly people honestly. One of the biggest lessons I have learned during my transition is who my friends are. I was surprised to see exactly how many people offered an ear or similar appendage and likewise which ones did just the opposite. In any case, humble pie never tasted so sweet. I appreciate the lesson.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This weekend Iwill be heading to Pagosa Springs, CO for some serious altitude training, hiking and camping, and of course R&R! Stay tuned for my next epic adventure!!!!</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimbXUvDDTcLAxDzSaGYX4vYgPsZI02bpbcDFdAY11v3cCasTcuCs09tzd6aIjjHoyNtfOhIohgKWannhPMizx37TPe9Z2tG-InoM6uAvNpdJMoPjaamJndl7INsrTvSheVCHWU5UrG0-Y/s1600/Kung+Fu+Girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" naa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimbXUvDDTcLAxDzSaGYX4vYgPsZI02bpbcDFdAY11v3cCasTcuCs09tzd6aIjjHoyNtfOhIohgKWannhPMizx37TPe9Z2tG-InoM6uAvNpdJMoPjaamJndl7INsrTvSheVCHWU5UrG0-Y/s320/Kung+Fu+Girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Carrie, Gretchen, and me at Kung Fu</span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-56333842293256458392011-08-06T05:34:00.000-07:002011-08-06T05:34:23.452-07:00Can you spare some "change"?I have been polling the audiences of my fellow coworkers, colleagues, athletes and just good ol' fashioned friends about the concept of "change". I'm not talking about the pennies I "accidentally" throw out the window or the nickles and dimes I find in the laundry- although I love finding quarters! I'm talking about that dreadful point at which a decision needs to be made or a decision has been made and now we get to either move in the same direction or crawl back into our shells and hibernate hoping that storm will pass us by, untouched. "Some change is good, some change is bad" from the lips of one of my best friends. Although I shook my head in agreement, I was really nodding in understanding her thought process. Change, in reality, is a perception. It's a word. How can it be good or bad? It is only what it is, and doesn't deserve such a bad rap. However, for arguments sake, I say change is change and am coming to understand why so many are resistant to it. Change comes in all forms: career change, time change, change in physical appearance, change a diaper, change a tire, change your mind, change your boyfriends or your underwear- although these two may be synonymous, change your life. It has become rather apparent to me that even the most free of minds does not adhere to the qualities that change can bring. Think about all the times you've said " I am so ready for a change" or " a change is gonna come". What did you really mean by that? Where you really ready for a change? If you did actually change, what was the intention behind it? Ive been pondering this change thing more closely this week as I have made quite a few changes. I broke up with my boyfriend, moved to Houston, joined another triathlon team, made some new friends and even rided myself of "friends", I started a new job and see the world much differently given my current circumstances. Most who know me aren't surprised that I would make so many decisions all at once, however, many would think I've lost my nerve. I would say to those "did I ever have it"? HAHAHA. I've been thinking on each of my decisions individually and really weighed out why I changed so much and what my reasons were. I have realized that I love change, I also realize that I love to think I love change. Truth is, I do wonder if each decision was progressive to my ultimate goal or if it was knee jerk and based on emotion. Whatever the answer to that question is, is irrelevant, as that is what I decided and I do not live on auto pilot or sit and analyze things until I am in a state of chronic paralysis. The point I am making is that change can be uncomfortable, if we let it. It can be bad, if that is how we see it. It can also be the best decision we've ever made. Moving to Houston ruffled some feathers, not mine, but there were definitely some angry birds. I wondered why they were so bitter or what had I done. Realistically, it was the change. Houston isn't my dream city, but it is the next step in getting to my dream city. Sure I miss the people in Dallas, but the ones who really care will not allow proximity to define our relationship. Further, change is a mere excuse for being out of the comfort zone. Pish posh. Change and the willingness to allow change can make for some great adventures and life long lessons. For example, breaking up is never easy to do, but if you stay in a relationship where mediocrity is at its best, you may miss your prince/princess. We KNOW when we are happy and when we are not, yet so many times we stammer around in that situation sacrificing our livelihoods just to appease the outsiders or the general vibe of society. <br />
For me, I am going to embrace change just to make myself more uncomfortable. I am going to get comfortable with the uncomfortable and expect the unexpected because the "only thing that stays the same is that everything changes".Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-44262011805694180052011-07-26T14:52:00.000-07:002011-07-26T14:52:10.083-07:00Better Here than There...Once again my thoughts were sparked not only by some frequent and relentless conversations I eaves dropped in on, but also my visual acuity as I entered my neighborhood 24 hour fitness yesterday. While I could completely get on a quite warranted diatribe about fitness and what it takes to be an athlete or a fitness competitor, I really want to reach out to the "normal" people out there. The ones that struggle just to get to the gym, THINK they are eating healthy, and those that believe they are so far off the wagon they may as well just keep that direction until perhaps they come full circle...The world is round, right? <br />
So often in my field I hear a variety of reasons people refuse to take time for themselves. I am reminded of one client specifically. Perhaps she is the modern day Mother Theresa: always doing and going and giving and planning and praying and, and, and... Of course there was not any time left for her to (GASP) work out! Long story short, if all my clients trusted in themselves and, here's my plug, me, as she has, they would all be experiencing the quality of life as she is. I'd lik to extend this accolade to Debbie Weinstein. However, my point is that I saw a group of morbidly obese ladies gathering around the pool lane as if they were actually going to do some moving. Yes, as I sat there waiting for my coach and team mates to arrive, I analyzed every one of those women. Oversized swim suits similar to house dresses, vericose veins and ecchymosis, edema, inflammation, stretched and tranluscent skin tone, and a repugnance that would send a bear back to the woods. They gather around arms folded, big gulps close by ( this is not a joke), and talking about superficial things yet never heard anything the others had said. Of course my mind was in a tale spin. One lady in particular must have been "on her way out" as she could barely walk and had an oxygen tank attached. She said very little. I couldnt help but wonder all the illness she was beig treated for...and the illness she wasn"t aware of yet. I wonder how long it took her to realize she was doing harm to her lfe. What affected her and held on to her sense of worth that lead her down this road? I wondered what she ate all day and how many pills she had to take and how she remembered all of them. On a larger scale, like attracts like, and they were alike. After 30 minutes or so, one leader attested she was exhausted and going home for dinner. Now, I am empathetic to those who can not move because their body will not allow it. I just came off an injury and 4 months later I still struggle with my athletics. But how is it that speaking for 30 minutes has become a workout? How is it that one day, if ever, you wake up and standing (due to your own negligence) has become your goal for the day?<br />
This prelude brings me to the topic "Better here than there". I chose this as not a means to suboordinate those ladies, but that all too often I convince myself and even judge others, and mainly women, on our appearances. We all do it, I'm just admittig it. When I think about how fortunate I am that my legs work, my arms move, and my heart is beating, suddenly running a sub 3 hour marathon doesn't hold much weight. I have been quite frustrated with my capabilities since my accident, however, I am humbled by the vicious old woman who would love to be able to swim as "fast" as I am currently. I couldn't stand 2 months of being off from workouts for recovery, these woman have been off for years! <br />
While I realize I am looking at others' misfortune with a concerned tone, I also reach out to these peple on a daily basis. I will go a step further to say it is NOT just the ones that are over weight or drowning in pharmaceuticals, but it is also the teenie weenies, the elites athletes and the middle men. It is all of us. We all battle ourselves over and over. We battle each other. My big premonition is: if I work out, eat right and never change an inch or a millimeter, I'm certain I'll be ok with that. I'm healthy and working on inner peace. I'm better off never changing (physique) than going the wrong direction. You are also better off right where you are than falling a slippery slope downhill as age becomes less and less a friend. In closing take a step <em>forward </em>and evaluate who you are and why you are doing ...whatever it is you are doing. If you are an athlete- great. It doesn't make you better than anyone. If you struggle with getting to the gym- it's only as hard as you make it but it also does not define you. Remember the slippery slope. Thanks again for reading...<br />
<strong>Completely unrelated sidenote</strong>: Congratulations to my friend and elite athlete Bradley Pigage on being the #3 America in the Military World Championships. Well done, sir!Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-37505620445519902452011-07-18T13:27:00.000-07:002011-07-18T13:27:46.781-07:00"True Grit"Today...and the past few days I've been thinking about the word "grit". What does it mean? What does it mean to you? What does it mean to me? If we are able to erase the perimeters of what is "right or wrong" and jus assess what is, then we can learn a lot from each other. I have recently encountered some emotionally feelings of self doubt and self worth. We all have these moments of weakness, but then I am reminded of what it means to be gritty. A few years ago I started cycling. Now I will not entertain even the slightest title of being a cyclist but I had a bike and some legs, everything else was grit. I joine an all guys team and they nicknamed me "Gritty not Pritty". While I basqued in that compliment, there was only a slight understanding of what grit truly is. "F<span id="hotword"><span style="color: black;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">irmness</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">character;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">indomitable</span> spirit</span><span style="color: black;">" as defined by dictiuonary.com. For some it means juggling the details of lfe: work, family, workouts and anything else tha might advance your way. Grit may be looking adversity in the face when all you aim to do is please others. Perhaps it is tking a flying leap into a new buisness venture or quitting a job that is infinitely suboordinate to our main focus. For me, grit is being able to stay grounded in who I am, why I am and where I come from. I often times think am a bit abrasive or too ballsy , and to you maybe I am. However nothing I have ever done has been easy. It was not easy to be a neophyte to cycling and the only girl on a men's team ( story of my life). I chose to bring this up as all too often we are at the mercy of judgement and fall prey to the mainstream ways of doing things even if we don't necessarily buy into it. I challenge myself not to fall into autopilot and conform to what has always been done and with the aire of "inspiration" at the forefront of my mind, I also challenge you... to be gritty. If it is ice cream for breakfast that you desire- eat it. If it is health you want- do it. If it is a phenomenal relationship or career that drives you, then damn it, put yourself out there without a fear of failure. It is only what you choose to make out of life that you will receive. On the flip side of that, I am also challenged not to make my way the only way. There has never been only one way to achieve something. Look to others for lessons to be learned or ideas to be created. Two heads are better than one! Today my gritty fce is showing. Tomorrow it will still show. I am confident in the decisions that I make, even if they do not meet society's approval . So, take this grit with a grain of salt...pun intended...and go be you! It is my firmness of character that defines me even if it is ever-evolving. Place truth in your heart or head and stay gritty... That is all! </span></span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4857449630205701846.post-65833337530154382282011-07-15T12:18:00.000-07:002011-07-15T12:18:26.652-07:00In-Jenn-New-ity First ReleaseIt's a cold day in July for sure. This is the inaugural entry to a new chapter in my life: In-Jenn-New-ity. I chose to create this page as I respect the amount of time it takes to write such events in life. I respect those who open themselves and their hearts up to the world even as judgement and ridicule may be lurking closer than normally comfortable. <br />
Blogging has a therapeutic element to it not only harnessed by the author but by the audience. I read at least 10 blogs a week andi always declare I will start my own. However, if any of you actually know me, I shy away when the thought of being "discovered" or "judged" presents itself. I am muc more familiar with "coy". This being said, my true self knows where and when I have wronged, what mistakes I have made, and of course, the lessons I have learned. <br />
I chose the name as it is inarguably a play on the word ( my truest wit) of "ingenuity" and my name. When I referenced the definition it read "<span id="hotword"><strong><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">quality</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">being</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">cleverly</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">inventive</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">resourceful;</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">inventiveness:</span> </strong></span><span class="ital-inline"><span id="hotword"><em><strong><span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">designer</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">great</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;">ingenuity.</span> "</strong> </em>I am envious of this word, and those who naturally relate, as I have never possesed these qualities. Sidenote: this is MY blog and my own judgements of self, so this is the world as I see it. I'd love to have the mind of a genious or the brain in which will cure a terminal disase. I'd love to be able to access my resources to create something "priceless" that I shall forever be remembered. I would be at the mercy of the feet of one that refered to me as inventive! Alas, I am working towards using more than 10% of my brain and matching my intellect with the capacity at which I use my heart. </span></span><br />
<span class="ital-inline"><span>I am a BIG picture person...an admin...a "doer". I tend to fall in the role of the leader and the shot caller. All great qualities to boot, but it does come with a price. I am able to see many colors but I default back to my favorties: black and white ( and pink). I have seldom been a dreamer or detail oriented only to get things done. I admire those who catch the cinematography in a movie, think of ways to mend unconventionals,or even just add a tip to the nearest dollar. It is my quest to relaease myself from the control that once seemed so important and learn to dream for myself. This is just the first minimal step to unleashing my inner self and I know you will enjoy the ride. Fasten your seat belts because it's going to be in-jenn-ious!</span></span>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14133483250432569002noreply@blogger.com0