Pirate Tri, Arrrgh!

Luckily Kelsey Abbott in my age group was so fast that she ranked in the top three woman overall. That bumped me up to place third in my age group this past weekend at the Pirate Tri at Lake Sebago.

The race was a sprint, 1/3rd mile swim, 14 mile bike ride, and 3 mile run. After placing in the Saratoga race I went into this event with a different mindset. I thought, hmm, maybe I can place again. Since this was my first event of the season that required a wetsuit, I purposefully took my time putting it on. Slowly and carefully I inched every buckle of the suit over my body, being mindful not rip it. The gal next to me promised to be my moral support since putting on a wetsuit is demoralizing to the likes of jeans shopping. Visualize putting on your tightest clothes right after you've gotten out of the shower and finding glue on the insides. The experience wasn't as bad as usual though. Boom, it was on! I turned to the gal who was helping me, gave her the thank you, finger pointed at the camera look, and darted into the water. I wanted to get right in to acclimate to the temperature. I'm not big on doing too much of a warm up but I wanted to go out harder than usual for the race. I probably swam 200 yards to get my breathing up, felt the 64 degree water under my wetsuit and on my neck and head, and got water in my ears.

As everyone gathered by the start, I looked around and sized up the other girls. Some people hadn't even gotten in the water to warm up, some girls didn't wear a wetsuit, some girls wore suits that were too big, and then there were the girls who you knew would kick butt. Generally, I was impressed with the level of fitness that people seemed to have and, on a side note, there were a lot of hot guys.

My wave went second, just after the 30-39 year old men. I usually line up to the far outside of the pack so that I have plenty of room, but this time I decided - screw it. I got right up front and in the middle. I figured, if a girl wants to pass me, she'll have to work to get around me. We took off and I did my best to keep my breathing under control. Part way out to the bouy I rolled over on my back. My backstroke is pretty strong and in the open water I don't think it makes that big of a difference if I'm swimming freestyle or backstroke speedwise. I usually roll over and do both during the race since it's easier to breathe on your back. I was thinking about my swim coach during the race and realized why we do all those stupid sprint sets and how I should really try to stick to the set better during practice and not slack. In the midst of this, I was looking around to see where I was in relation to the other girls but the men were wearing the same color swim caps as we were, so I really couldn't tell how I was doing.

As I came out of T1 and up the first hill, my buddy waved to me and said, see, I knew you would pass me! I didn't know it at the time, but he had a terrible transition and his derailleur later crapped out on him during the ride. But still, passing him right out of the transition and knowing that he is a stronger swimmer than me and that he had a 30 second lead at the start, still felt good. I thought, cool!



Off I was on the bike. Usually I get smoked on the bike and people pass me like crazy. This was a short ride, only 14 miles, and it didn't seem like many people were passing me. There were two women that went by but they weren't in my age group. I didn't know where I was in relation to the other girls in my AG, but I thought that the faster girls must have already beaten me out of the water. As I would later find out, I was 4th out of the water in my age group so there were only a few girls ahead of me on the course.

There were a couple of hills and I tried to push it as hard as I could. I re-passed a couple of the ladies who had passed me and overall my bike pace average was 17.4. Coming into transition it seemed like the fans were on top of me, which was awesome. I need to get the pull shoe laces to speed up my run transition, but still my T2 was 1:13, which isn't too bad.

After seeing my splits from the Saratoga Duathlon my plan was to run as hard as I could. I pushed it right out of the gate and subsequently my breathing was sky high. I didn't care though. I pushed it past the mile marker then got a little disoriented looking for the turnaround. I thought it was an out and back run course, but it turned out to be a lollipop. By the time I knew where I was again I had finished the second mile. I'm pretty sure that the second mile was slow since I was hesitantly looking for the turnaround, but regardless I gunned it for the last mile back. .


Abigail PORTER 31 Winchester MA
3rd place AG
Swim Rank 4, time 9:44
T1 2:03
Bike Rank 5, time 48:11, ave speed 17.4
T2 1:13
Run Rank 4, time 23:11, ave mpg 7:44
Total Time 1:24:20.3
(rank by age group)

Female Overall Results:
16th out of 159 women, 12th out of the water, 34th on the bike, and 20th on the run.

I was happy and I got a pirate mug. I'm like a little kid showing off a trophy. Here it is!



Also, check out this IronKid running her race with her swim cap still on. Absolutely awesome!

Happy Saratoga

I'm happy to report that I placed second in my age group this past weekend in the Saratoga Lions Duathlon. Boy, is it good to race on the East Coast! :-)

Results:
5k Run 24:56, avg HR 173, pace 8:02 min mile
T1 1:10
20 mi Bike 1:15:06, avg HR 156
T2 1:24
5k Run 25:32, avg HR 173, pace: 8:13 min mile

I participated in this race just for fun. The transition area is around the corner from our house in Saratoga. It was fun to be able to sign up for the race last minute and be in good enough shape to compete and place in it. I've never really placed for races before this year and I owe a lot of that to racing on the East Coast versus in Boulder where most of the people in my age group are borderline pro athletes.

Overall, I'm pumped that my run pace was an 8 min mile. That is about a minute better per mile than my race pace last year at the Bolder Boulder. And, I'm glad that my second 5k pace was very close to the first.

Things have been great lately. Training has felt so good, my fitness is improving, and I'm happy.

A few weeks ago I found myself in an interesting spot. I had about a month and a half or so of hard training under my belt. The problem was, I was exhausted. It was a Monday and I found myself falling asleep on the train on the way into work. My head bobbed with exhaustion and my appetite was insatiable. I was nearly crying on the way home because I was so tired and hungry. I was feeling guilty for eating so much when my office mate had probably a quarter of what I had all day long. After placing a phone call to a friend, I was re-assured that I didn't have to feel guilty about eating so much. With that, I went home and ate a real meal and was in bed by 8. The next day, I took the day off and went to bed again at 8. It was so early that it was still light out when I went to bed! Two days later, I arose from the dead as stiff as a board. I was so sluggish but I forced myself to go for a run with Zion. The run was absolutely pathetic. Zion was looking back at me like - when are you gonna start to run? Another day passed, and I felt a little more normal, and by the third day I had some energy back.

The next week I met with my Ironman mentor and I shared with him how I was feeling - tired, hungry, afraid to take a day off. He assured me that I needed to take it easy. His advice was - take a week off and if you're feeling like you're hungry all the time, then eat more protein and fat. That week and the following week I took it much easier on the workouts. I was doing one a days rather than two and three workouts. Now, about three weeks later, I feel amazing.

I don't feel like I can report any consistent volumes since I'm not following my set workout plan yet. But, I am consistently swimming twice a week for 50 min to an hour; I've been running a lot lately because I had to travel with work and it was about all I could do, and I've been biking probably two or three times a week for about 30-50 miles. I also do two core strength workouts in the gym per week.

Amazingly, I'm only a month away from starting my build training. The sound of that is super scary. It means a lot more discipline and a ticking clock until the race. I am however feeling on track for the program. I'm wondering if I should try to squeeze in a 70.3 before the race - mostly because I have so much energy to burn that it might be fun and a good way to test my race day nutrition.

Otherwise, I'm feeling amazing. I can see muscles in my body, my fat percentage is definitely less, and my disposition equals happy. I can't even begin to contemplate the difference in how I feel now versus how I felt 6 months ago. Working out consistently, a healthy diet, and a healed heart....that's where I'm at and I couldn't be happier.

Sterling Classic

After reading my friend Rich's race report from the Sterling Classic road race, I now have the courage to write mine. Rich is a strong cyclist who I ride with in the mornings and he's always leading the pack up the hills. So, it was comforting to read that he absolutely hated the race too.

The morning started at 6am when I got woken up by my alarm clock and the sound of rain crashing against the pavement. I thought, ugh, are they really going to have this race in the rain?

I show up at the race hoping that not all of the women would show but I soon realized that only the beefiest and toughest girls showed up. This didn't help my ego.

I struggled with what to wear since it was off an on raining and mid 40 degrees. I settled on capri length pants, a shirt, arm warmers, gloves, and my light neon jacket. The race started with a neutral start - basically rolling at 10-15 mph until the start line which was on top of a steep hill. The girls saw that hill and they were on top of it with lightening speed and I had already been dropped. I watched them ride away and I was alone.

The rain was picking up and I was getting really frustrated that I didn't have clear sunglasses. My dark glasses were all I had and it was as if they were fogging up on the inside of the lenses. I wiped them, licked them, and shook them but nothing would un-fog them. All the while rain and dirt was hurtling into my eyes and I was getting so pissed that I considered thowing the sunglasses into the woods. It was the combination of getting dropped in a second, getting sprayed in the face with rain and dirt, and generally being on edge from riding in the pouring rain that made me want to quit right there.

I turned the corner for the second half of the loop and found that it was on an off-ramp to a highway. I'm a safety freak and this really pissed me off. We were in the middle of farm-land Massachusetts and they couldn't find a better option than having us ride on the off-ramp to a highway? I was so irritated at this point but kept peddling through the "finish line" to start on my next loop. People were there cheering me up the hill and my mood lighted enough to keep going.



On my second loop I had to to talk myself down. I said to myself - you're doing this for the experience, it's crappy weather but you didn't expect to win nor come anywhere close, you knew that these girls would be much faster, you usually get beat by a lot in a triathlon on the bike so why would it be any different here. All you have to do is ride for an hour and it's over. You can handle it.

So, I kept riding. As I passed through the finish line for the second time I had the urge to tell everyone how cold I was. I wondered to myself how much colder I could possibly get on my last loop. The answer is, pretty damn cold.

My feet were numb, my body was cold, I was absolutely soaking wet.

By the time I finished the race there were only two people at the finish line. They were like - what happened? I said - well - I got dropped on the first hill and rode the whole damn thing by myself and now I'm absolutely freezing. How do I get back to my car?

They gave me crappy directions and I rode down some long winding hill to get back. The "get to the finish line" movement was now gone and all of the remaining heat from my body was escaping. Not knowing where I was, I reached for the GPS on my phone for directions. I could hardly take off my gloves to activate the phone. My hands were shaking and I was standing in the middle of some nowhere street in the pouring rain. I nearly broke down right there. I knew that I was all I had to get myself out of this situation and that this is how people get hypothermia and into serious trouble.
Again, I had to talk to myself - you can do it, it's only 5 more miles to get back to the car. Just peddle and concentrate.

After repeating the GPS directions event a couple of times I finally figured out how to get back to the car. As I rode back, I saw Rich's group starting their race. I got closer to my car and the skies opened up and it started gushing rain. It wasn't even like standing in a shower but more like riding through a swimming pool.



Somehow I got my bike and my body into the car. I was shaking so hard and my body was so cold that I could hardly get my soaked clothes off my body.

The words - this experience ranks up there with the all time dumbest things I have ever done - kept ringing in my head.

I shivering in my car for the next 25 minutes and blasted the heat for the entire ride home. It sucked. The only good news is that now I know I can ride in the rain. The end.

Rude Awakening

Chasing strength is a good name for the way I'm feeling today, although I don't even have the energy to find it let alone chase it. Point blank, I feel like shit. I've taken the last two days off and I'm still completely exhausted physically and emotionally.

The alarm has gone off at 5am three times this week and I only mustered the strength to rise and shine for one of those occasions. I do feel however, that last weekend included some break throughs with distances and how I felt during my workouts. I rode and ran further than I have in the last few months. On Saturday I went for a beautiful 30 mile bike ride through Concord and on Sunday I took Zion for an awesome 8.5 mile run which included 3 miles of trail running in the fells. Monday I swam and Tuesday I took spin class. One of the trainers at the gym even commented on how I'm leaning down and how my efforts are starting to pay off. The part that sucks is that I felt so good on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday and yet for the last two days I've felt terrible. I am hating this feeling.

I'm finding that my "recovery day" is consistently the worst day of the week. Yesterday I took the day off and ate candy and drank beers and today I ate even more candy and I can hardly move from my bed. Ugh. I suppose it doesn't help that I have been a little naughtly lately with going out and eating poorly. The problem is that the more tired I am, the worse my behavior is. What I really need on tired days is to eat healthy, go to bed early, and take it easy. I'm effectively doing the opposite.

I can't even imagine how difficult this is going to become when I get into the "build" phase of my training. Let me share with you what my second and third week of "build" training will entail:

Sunday July 18
Bike 1 hr 15 min
Run 1 hr 11 min
Core work

Monday
Recovery Swim 30 min 1500 yards

Tuesday
Bike 1 hr 40 min
Run 35

Wednesday
Swim 1 hr 6 min 3300 yards
Bike 1 hr 16 min
Run 23 min

Thursday
Bike 1 hr Tabata Intervals
Run 1 hr Hill Bounding
Core Strength

Friday
Resistance Swim 52 min 2600 yards

Saturday
Bike 3 hrs 26 min
Run 35 min

Sunday July 25
Bike 1 hr 15 min
Run 1 hr 15
Core work

Monday
Recovery Swim 30 min 1500 yards

Tuesday
Bike 2 hrs
Run 40 min

Wednesday
Swim big set 1 hr 14 min 3700 yards
Bike 1 hr 15 min
Run 21 min

Thursday
Bike Tabata Intervals 1 hr
Run Hill Bounding 1 hr
Core work

Friday
Resistance Swim 1 hr 2 min 3100 yards

Saturday
Bike 3 hrs 40 min
Run 40 min

I look at this schedule and wonder how I'm going to do it. The biggest issue is fitting in sleep. I can knock out a swim in the morning and do an hour or two after work but the problem is the next day when I try to do it all over again. The alarm goes off at 5am and it's a rude awakening. I found out a couple of months ago that to be able to workout day after day I will have to be disciplined about sleep and managing my diet. Unfortunately, I have a massive sweet tooth and I love beer, so I've got that working against me.

Tomorrow I'm going to force myself out of this slump and take Zion for a nice long run. I'll let the endorphins kick back in to support my spirit and I'll feed them all day long with caffeine. My suffering will only last until I get pumped up again since it'll be Friday night and I'll be going out with my girls. Saturday will come and I'll be only half rested with lack of sleep but hopefully I will not have indulged. I'll spin out 40 miles, take a quick rest, and get ready for Saturday night. Oh yes, it's becoming more obvious where the problem is, but quite hard to avoid nonetheless.

New Mexico - full of light

Being in New Mexico this weekend was such a pleasure. We packed the weekend with adventures starting with the celebration of Dary graduating as a Combat Rescue Office in the USAF Pararescue, that others may live. He has been training for the past year and a half to become one of the few who will be called into action to rescue and save another. Don't feel bad if you haven't heard of this job before. Everyone recognizes the name Navy Seal or Green Beret, but few know about the Pararescue team.

The Pararescue job was created 60 years ago when a Doc and two medics jumped into the Vietnam forest by way of airplane to save the men on the ground. At the time, there was no other way of accessing the men and there was no one to call if you got stuck. The effort was successful and after a month of treating the men on the ground all were able to walk out alive. Today, Dary is one of only 500 men who serve on the Pararescue team.

To become a CRO (combat rescue officer) or PJ (pararescue jumper) you must endure 1.5 to 2 years of training. Since Dary is already an officer his training was compacted into 1.5 years. The major difference is that the PJs have more extensive medical training. All endured INDOC, which is as brutal as you can imagine it to be and it has been portrayed fairly well in movies. To get through - you must be able to complete a million push ups, sit ups, pull ups, running, and lots and lots of water exercises. The point of the training is to see how well the men act and survive under stress and discomfort. They do exercises like tieing your hands and feet together and bobbing to the bottom of the pool or putting your feet up on the side of the pool and continuously dunking your head underwater. The tasks become more and more complicated when the boys work together as a team to share air. By the end, you know how to blow the water out your face mask under water and untangle breathing apparatus and backpack cords while holding your breath under water. It's during INDOC that many of the men drop out. In the next two sessions, the rest of the men quit or give up.

The training continues with resuce and survival tactics including land navigation, mountain operations, jumping out of airplanes at 1500 feet, jumping out of helicopters, water operation, weapons, and medical. To sum it up, the training is brutal.

Dary will be stationed in Vegas and can be deployed at any time. His mission can be anything that involves rescuing and savings civilians or our military from any category. The US Air Force Pararesuce is the only group in the military that has the mission to save others. The saying goes - even a Navy Seal or a Green Beret need to call 911 sometimes. That's when Dary comes in.

The graduation was very exciting and they did a great job informing the families of what our boys have been up to for the last couple of years. After the men put on their maroon berets they all lined up and we got to shake every person's hand. That part was awesome.

The next day we went to Old Town, Santa Fe to enjoy the serenely beautiful adobe architecture and outdoor museums. The adventure was so fulfilling for me. Beginning with the 60 mile drive from Albuquerque over the rugged terrain to Santa Fe the ground was covered with sage brush and the mountains stood up tall. I couldn't decide if the brush covered terrain was more beautiful than it is in Colorado since I actually enjoyed seeing it here, sparse and dry, or if it was that I missed Colorado and appreciated this type of landscape more than before. The land, hot sun on my skin, and high elevation air felt good.

Walking around the beautiful museums and seeing local craftsman work was such a pleasure. It was a pleasant surprise to find work from an artist that I particularly liked from fairs in Boulder, named Sweet Bird. Her work is functional and machine-like sprinkled with inspirational themes and pretty things. She can't be mistaken for just-a-chick-artist though, she's a real badass. Check out evil by nature.

Feeling good and seeing brilliant colors and art done well is enough to send me over the edge. It pours so much inspiration into my soul that I think about doing crazy things like living more simply and deviating from the norm.

Our final day in New Mexico was spent doing a backwards sprint triathlon in Rio Rancho. The town has sprung up from no where since HP built a new office there and it boasts modern facilities like the Aquatic Center, from where the race started. The race was super fun since it went in the opposite order - run bike swim. The run and bike were super hilly with lots of climbing and the run even featured a 1 mile trail run through soft dirt. The views of course were spectacular featuring red dessert dirt and sage brush with big and powerful mountains in the background, almost too far to reach. The sun shone through them and the colors were deep, vaguely green, and orange and red.

At first I thought the swim would be easy since it was only 400 meters and in a pool, but after I jumped in and began my serpentine swim I quickly realized how thin the air was. Holding my breath for even one second was impossible and I don't even think I did one stroke before I flipped over and completed the swim on my back. It sucks to be the one coming from sea level when I used to train at 5,000 to 10,000 feet daily. Regardless, the feeling of ectasy following the race was enough to make me want to sign up for a triathlon every weekend.

The whole weekend was so amazing. From spending time with my family, celebrating Dary's incredible accomplishments and the beginning of his new career, feeling, seeing and breathing in the west, experiencing a new place filled with light and beauty, talking through the possibilities of metalworking with Tommy, basking in the sun with ink still tatooed on my arm from my tri...I could go on and on.

I'm so happy for such a wonderful experience. Everything happens for a reason and inspiration comes from everywhere. It's so hard to capture it during the daily grind and I've been desperate to find it lately. For now, I'll take my sun tanned skin and oxygen deprived air ... memories of beauty and the happiness that came with it... I'll mull it around in my head for the next few days until I fall back into the normal humdrum life and routine that I live. I just have to decide what the trick is...go back for more and replenish my soul with all of these good things.... or make changes.

Spring Fling Triathlon
Rio Rancho NM - April 18, 2010
5k run, 30k bike, 400yd swim.

Results
4th AG, Abigail Porter
31 Winchester MA
1:49:10.30
Run 27:12 Bike 1:13:53 Swim 8:07

1st AG, Allie Duba
24 Albuquerque NM
1:33:41.50
Run 22:47 Bike 1:04:15 Swim 6:41

Creepy Ken

Main Entry: creepy
Pronunciation: \ˈkrē-pē\
: producing a nervous shivery apprehension, a creepy horror story; also : eerie
: of, relating to, or being a creep : annoyingly unpleasant

Main Entry: ap•pre•hen•sion
Pronunciation: \ˌa-pri-ˈhen(t)-shən\
: suspicion or fear especially of future evil : foreboding, an atmosphere of nervous apprehension.

Main Entry: 1fore•bod•ing
Pronunciation: \-ˈbō-diŋ\
: the act of one who forebodes; also : an omen, prediction, or presentiment especially of coming evil : portent

It's Thursday night swim practice and the team is waiting around by the pool. I had been looking forward to tonight for the social after practice. As we waited for practice to start a fellow swimmer struck up conversation with me. In the short minute or two that we talked I had told him that I was planning on going to the social but had to take the train to Alewife to get my car and drive back into Harvard Square so that I'd have my car ready when I wanted to leave.

Meanwhile, I had been working out a lot this week. On Monday I swam, ran, and did core work; on Tuesday I biked with the Rippers in the morning; and on Wednesday I swam. Now it's Thursday and I ran with Zion in the morning and here I was at swim practice that same day. Needless to say, I was tired. So, I jumped out of the pool after 40 minutes, which no one does because practice is always at least an hour. I start heading towards the showers to begin the process of retrieving my car. As I'm walking to the locker room I hear my name and Ken is right behind me. He stops me and offers to walk with me to get my car. I refuse saying, no, you don't have to do that encourage him to get back into the water. By association of the swim team I assume he's a normal guy, but I did think it was odd for him to jump out of the pool earlier then he probably intended to walk with me to my car. After going back and forth, I finally agree to let him come.

Upon acceptance, he says "great! I'll be ready in 5 minutes." I say, "I'll be ready in 15."

I'm by my locker having just gotten out of the shower and I hear Ken's voice echo into the locker room asking me I'm still there. I yell out yes. Knowing that he was waiting for me, I pop my head out of the locker room and let him know that I still had to dry my hair. Upon doing so, he pulls his head around the corner and says "is anyone in there?" My reaction was - "you can't come in here and yes there are people in here!" I turn around quickly and head back into the locker room and he says "you look nice."

I'm back at the hair dryer thinking... this guy is kind of weird. Why would he ask if anyone is in the locker room and why did he even think for one second that he could come in. People are in and out of the locker room all the time and changing. That's just weird. And why would he say I look nice when I'm clearly not ready yet and have soaking wet hair. Yuck.

I walk out of the locker room when I'm done. He offers me his jacket for the walk, which I gladly accept since the temperature had plummeted throughout the day from 6 and sunny to 50 degrees and misty. When he gestured to give me his jacket, he motions like he was going to put it on me for me. I say thank you and just grab the jacket, not letting him put it over my shoulders. In my head I think, this is too close for comfort and everything about this guy is skeezing me out.

As we walk over the JFK bridge I'm consciously aware that he's walking too close to me. My legs are completely bare since I had worn a short summer dress and flip flops that day. In the background, he's telling me what he does for work. His story doesn't make sense and he's talking in circles. He's explaining that his business is managing people's risk. So I ask some probing questions like - "so are you selling the service to talk with people about managing their risk, or are you a money manager? What exactly are you?" He doesn't really answer the question and talks in circles some more. After about 7 minutes of this I say, "if this is your business you should really be more clear about what you do." I'm turned off greatly by this. Being in sales, I have a keen ear for getting to the point and coming away from a conversation with clear answers.

As we wait for the train I'm sipping on my nuun water. He says "give me some of that." Reactively, I hand him the bottle. As soon as he sips it, I think "damn, now I can't have anymore and I'm going to have to throw that out."

We walk onto the train and I take a single seat, flanked by people on either side. He walks over and continues to ask me normal questions in a weird way. He asks "did you go to college?" Most people say "where did you go to college?" I found it both condescending and weird that he asked in that way. At the next stop he asked the person next to me to slide over so he could sit next to me. He sat with a wide stance so that his leg was uncomfortably close to mine and his bag was on his lap and both arms were crossed close to his chest. I felt a tapping on my side as he asked me questions. At the time, I wasn't sure if it was his bag, or his finger.
During the next two stops his talk got to be incomprehensible. He told me that "Boston is such a mind fuck. Everyone lives with all his history, like the Mayflower and Paul Revere." Confused, I asked "so how does that weigh you down?" He had no answer.

Over the next few minutes it became extremely clear that he was unable to communicate in a linear thought pattern. I'm thinking, great - rather than bringing someone with me who could make me feel safer, I'm bringing the weirdo with me.

Each stop we're getting closer and closer to Alewife Station where I had parked my car earlier in the day. The parking lot is large and there is no security. I know that soon I'll be in a unpopulated garage with him and alone. While I'm still in the train I'm getting everything organized so that I have my keys in hand. Here we are, the last stop. At this point, I'm on high alert. My heart is even paced, my adrenaline is ready to surge, and I'm pissed thinking ... if this kid tries to do anything I'm going to kick his ass.

As we ride up the escalator I'm a couple of stairs ahead of him and I feel the back of his finger rest on the back of my knee. I turn around and say "did you just touch me?!" He says "oh sorry, I didn't mean to." I step forward away from him and say in a strong and assertive voice "you're just saying some really weird things. I just met you and you're here about to drive with me and I want to make sure things are cool." He says "that's one way to look at it." As we ride up the second escalator, I motion for him to ride in front of me. I look back at the person behind me as if to say "help." I consider if I should ask him to walk me to my car, but then I think, WTF, this guy is going to get IN my car! I'm pissed but also focused.

We walk out to the car and I'm keeping my distance from him. Luckily, and perhaps it was his reaction from me verbalizing that it was not cool for him to touch me and that he was saying weird things, he seemed to keep completely to his side of the car. It was almost as if he recluded into the seat. I'm feeling more and more free the closer we get to Harvard. He continues to tell me stranger things like "he is intensely looking for a wife and to start his family."

Half way there he asks me "so, what is it that I said was weird?" I say, "I'm good, I really don't want to talk about it."

A few minutes later he says "I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable."

I don't answer.

We're almost to our destination and he says "maybe we can go out to dinner sometime and I can try not to be so strange."

Again, I don't answer.

We get to the parking lot, he gets out of my car and I lock it immediately. He asks if he can leave his bag in the car, and my response is "I would rather not."

We get into the bar and find others from the swim team. I'm talking to another guy, Ken is in the corner, and I feel someone touch my side. I whip around and see who it is, but no one had caused it. I turn back to my new friend and say "I'm just really paranoid right now." He says, "so you experienced it?" I look at him in the eye, and say, "yes." He's nodding his head like he knows.

He says, yea he's a real weirdo. Our coach has had to talk to him about it. He's stalked and been creepy to every girl on this team. He turns to the others to fill them in on our conversation and they unanimously agree that he's totally weird.

The validation from the others definitely made me feel better. My body was still on high alert and not relaxed yet. I was practically biting my nails, which I never do.
Later that night I informed my coach of everything that happened. He was definitely pissed. He wasn't there and said that if he was that he wouldn't have done that because he knows that he's onto him. He asked me to write up everything that happened so that he can document it and take action. He also advised to tell any other women on the team about it too.

A couple of days later, my blood pressure still rises writing about the experience. It was definitely strange experience and a good reminder to not trust people without reason and to follow your gut instinct, even it it means hurting some one's feelings.

Killington's Last Hoorah

Today was Killington's last hoorah. Looking back on the season, Killington got me through some tough months. It saw all of my anger, all of my reckless behavior, and yet it still let me have fun and come back for more, even when I gave it hell. I have so many insanely fun memories of this season including season opener when only two runs were open and yet the whole crew was out there taking as many turns as possible, 80s party when Rachel and I dressed up in matching "let's get physical" type outfits looking ridiculous and dancing like no one was watching, Pimps and Hos theme party at the Pickle exemplifying everything that debauchery stands for, and coveted housemate time together on Saturday and Sunday mornings spent recapping the night before and drinking coffee before hitting the slopes. I've met so many people and have had so many good times and yet this weekend was perhaps the most special for me.

On Friday night when we rolled into the house it was amazing how much the place and the people felt like home. It had been a few weeks since I had seen everyone and it really struck me how much I had missed seeing everyone. The scene was ... chit chat on the couch with Tommy and Mandelbaum, silly stories being shared, a mix of poking jabs at each other and loving banter, the crew rolls in from a Friday night Pickle outing and Cari is giddy and looking fabulous, jokes and laughter in the air and even Clifford has a smile ear to ear. I had a light and happy heart being with everyone taking in the experience, as it existed in that moment.

Saturday morning I took Zion for one more shuffle up the hill. Here's a video of him running at full speed down the hill, absolutely happy as can be.



The house was buzzing with excitement for the Mogul Challenge and everyone got to the hill early to warm up for their qualifying races. The course was icey and fast but everyone progressed on to the next round. The day was exciting and beautiful with bright blue skies. I got a real treat by running into Jodi and her crew. It's crazy, but we have hardly ever skiied together and we both spend our entire winters on the slopes. Having talked about meeting up every time we had happy hour together at the Lookout, we finally got to take a few runs together.

Later that night we found ourselves at our usual spot at the back bar at the Pickle. Everyone was having a great time. We had dancing, smiles, and good humor in the air. There is almost always some kind of drama at the end of the night, but this night was different. Everyone was happy, there, and taking it all in.

Next, duals came on Sunday. The course was even faster than yesterday and the crew monopolized the standings. There were a few head on head rounds of competition between friends and in the end it was practically a battle just to stay on top of your skiis. The course was so difficult that almost everyone who got knocked out of the round blew up and lost their skiis or landed hard after a big jump. Bobby Zeolla should have taken the prize but he settled for second. It was a tough battle for everyone who competed.



Luckily, I've made it home and endured the last tired as hell ride back from Killy on a Sunday. It's been a big season and Killy saw me through it all. I'm signing off with last night's tired eyes and feeling appreciation for where I have come from and where I am now. The last eight months have been like navigating through a labrinth and having to overcome challenges to make it to the next door. Armed with the excitement of moving into a new room, I'd find a flood of water and would have to wade through it to make it to the next stepping stone. I feel like I'm out of the deep dark tunnels and seeing an easier road ahead. The timing of the journey was in parallel to my experience at Killington, and so the two exist in unison for me in my memories. It will be interesting to see what I decide to do next year, but for now, I'm taking things one day at a time.