Love the Life you Live, Live the Life you Love

So the first 5 days in the apartment have been awesome, the only thing I didn't like was waking up to an empty room because Colin went to the pool early and Caitlin isn't moved in yet. Playing house with Chris was hilarious, in a, "okay hunnie you go to the grocery store, I'll do the dishes and take out the trash" honeymoon frame of mind kind of way. In all seriousness though, we work really well together...I think because we both have no problem pulling our own weight, okay and also we're borderline obsessed with each other. But regardless, having him around was awesome and I miss it. I actually have to do the dishes now. And I keep talking to myself. Damn.

So the reason I haven't blogged in 11 days, and that kills me because I was doing SO good earlier, is that I finally moved into my new apt! AH! I thought moving into a dorm was big news, this is HUGE! Well actually the apartment is medium, and my room is on the larger side of medium, but I freaking LOVe this place. Sure, the floors turn my feet black, the stove belongs in the dumpster, or a modern art museum, the food residue stuck to the inside of the fridge could have supported a third world country, and I don't even want to get started on the bathroom - the bugs speak for themselves. The 2 legs of the table were completely broken off, the couch in the family room collapses in so if you even want to think about sitting on it, you have to perch on the frame, and the shower curtain has mold on it. There's a random frig from 70's in the hallway and a random door in my room that is nailed shut - no hope of ever opening again. The carpet in the hallway has no hope of ever ...

I haven't died I promise. It's been TEN DAYS SINCE MY LAST POST!? Time gets away from you some times...I don't have time to blog right now because I have work in half an hour and I'm no where near ready to get ready for it. But I just wanted to let you know, whoever you are, that I have lots to blog about and I will be back tomorrow...or maybe later tonight. I love my new apartment, my triathlon race on Sunday went awesome, work is amazing as usual, and I can't wait for it to be warmer again!!! More soon, Love love love, me

I’m not sure what drew me to my first Triathlon practice November of my freshman year at BU. I didn’t have the faintest idea the differences between a mountain and racing bike, Lance Armstrong was a guy whose favorite color was yellow, and Kona sounded like some sort of mixed drink. If you asked me if I had ever thought of cycling, I would laugh in your face, after all, cyclist’s socks were weird and their spandex hugged all the wrong areas. Nope, I was a retired high school swimmer who ran on the weekends to avoid the freshman fifteen. I was at college to dig my nose in books and find my future husband. Triathlons were not even in my vocabulary. And yet I found myself at the track and tennis center at 8 pm on a Wednesday night. My first ever track practice, terrified out of my mind. The practice was bust: I almost fainted from giving blood that day and running in circles made my head spin. I was slower than everyone else and Coach Vic had to explain everything twice. I left feeling s...

At the core of every great team is the ability to work together, not only when you're on top but most importantly when you're on bottom and at the end of your rope. Today Chris and I definitely got tested on this one! We left at 8:30 this morning for a supposed 17 mile cycle to Walden pond, where the plan was to practice open water swimming for half an hour, then cycle an easy 6 miles to an amazing cafe called Taste (Number one in Boston and number 12 in the country!!!) and then cycle home. We should be home by noon. Little did we know we would get lost on every single street. Literally...every. single. street. Damn googlemaps. A few hints for navigating Boston, from yours truly: 1. If you are looking for Blue Heron street in Waltham, Mass, give up now. It doesn't exist. We found this out by cycling down literally every single side street within a 5 mile radius of where Blue Heron "supposedly" is 2. Sometimes streets just turn into other streets without a sign, or...

More than anything, when I hear about a dad getting sick or injured, it hits me like a car that we are not invincible. Ever since I was a little girl I've had it in my head that daddys are supermen - they can handle anything and they never falter. Dads are the ones who take care of those who are weak, but they themselves are never weak. So you can imagine how confused I am when my dad gets a cold. I know it's unrealistic, but I can't help but have this mindset. Maybe it's because my dad is the strongest man I've ever known - there's nothing he can't lift, fix, improve, or design. He knows how to build an entire house, remove any splinter, rewire any electric system, fix any car, and still be home in time for dinner at 5. He has never once said no to me when I ask for money, even though I'm 20 years old and I can certainly afford to pay for a movie myself, and though he hasn't the faintest idea about the technicalities of a triathlon or what I'm a...

I decided today I absolutely LOVE huge acts of compassion - when some one goes ALL out to show they really, truly and absolutely care - or at the very least they want to make you feel really special. They meticulously plan something especially for you, like a surprise party, or they buy a huge, perfect gift that costs hundreds of dollars, or they bring you to a super nice dinner that cost more than working twelve hours at a job like Citysports. Whatever it is, you know they put a ton of effort into just for you. And that feels great. After all, as wonderful as you are, you deserve it =) Yes, I absolutely LOVE times like this. It feels nice to be blown off my rocker. But what I love even more, and what I've been seeing more and more lately, is random, small acts of kindness that come completely out of nowhere and put that huge, hanger mouth smile on my face. Such as when your best friend hides a good luck note for nationals in your transition bag Such as when your boyfriend walks ...