Love the Life you Live, Live the Life you Love

I think my favorite part of being a military wife is the sheer number of times I get the pleasure of visiting the DMV office. One thing the US of A needs to fix is this military situation. Is that being vague? Okay, on top of eeeeeeverything else - and I mean everything else - all the way down at the very bottom of the totem pole underneath removing the Asbestos in on-base housing but just above fixing the Army's mess dress (navy blue and black, really?), is the situation with the active duty car registration and driver's licenses. There is a law that to my limited understanding, basically says military can do whatever they want with their driver's licenses and car registration. Currently in my wallet I have: 1. A Missouri driver's license 2. A Massachusetts liquor license (basically I used it to say I was over 21) 3. A Utah driver's license I should note I am a resident of New Mexico but my car is registered in Ohio. I am a resident of New Mexico becaus...

I thought I'd share some things that I've picked up after doing triathlons for almost 10 ( TEN! ) years from people who are a whooooole lot smarter than I am: 1. Bring your own bike pump to transition. Not only will you not have to stress about running around like a beggar or stand in line waiting to use one, but also you automatically become the most popular person at the race. I was Saint Katie, bringer of the air , at Ironman Santa Rosa. Also, they always say you won't get it back...I've always gotten mine back. Just use one of your extra race number stickers to stick on it! 2. Check for a landmark when you rack your bike. Look for banners hanging on the fencing, a tree, a tent...something that doesn't move. I can't tell you the number of races I've done that I thought "Meh, I'll remember." or "They have numbers on the signs" When you're flying through transition with a massive swim PR feeling like a pro, AIN'T NOBODY G...

I knew it was trouble when we walked in. Chris and I have stayed in Air BnBs all over the world - from the Arctic Circle in Finland to Ushuaia at the tip of Patagonia in Argentina. From the haunted house with Ouiji board that locked itself in the closet and the porcelain dolls that I swear followed me into the the bathroom, to the plush condo in Buenos Aires with the rooftop pool. The key to Air BnB is low expectations. If you have the expectation of "This is literally a place to put my bags and lay my head down", you'll never be disappointed! The one in Ushuaia, we literally shared a bathroom with 4 other people. The toilet and plumbing was so sketchy I refused to poop in the house...and we stayed there for THREE DAYS. We slept in two double beds in a small library off the kitchen...on my HONEYMOON. The one in the Arctic Circle had no shower and we had to heat our water with a sauna and shower by pouring a bucket over each others head. Don't even get me sta...

I really hate race reports. And yet here I am, writing my race report. Usually when I write a race report I find starts with useless information that only pertains to myself and finishes with a bunch of excuses on why the race didn't go as planned, why my training was sub-par, why I didn't go faster, etc etc etc. But I mean....if you don't write a race report....can you REALLY call yourself a triathlete? An Ironman? A human being? Unconfirmed, but probably not. The day started at 3:32 when Chris' alarm buzzed me out of my deep slumber... Just kidding. I'm not wasting your time with the arbitrary details of my relatively boring morning. Here's the short and dirty: I woke up tired, ate bland food that I gagged on, got on a school bus, slept on the way to the start while trying to block out everyone's small talk. Best part of the morning? I walked out of a portapotty and bumped into my very best most wonderful friend in the world Julie, who surpris...

It has been 3 years since I last blogged. Three.Years. I'm closer to 30 than I am 25. I have stocks. I have an INVESTMENT plan. I found my first forehead wrinkle not too long ago and had the realization that I can no longer tolerate parties where I don't have at least 2 feet of personal space and access to a bathroom with organic soap and a fresh hand towel. When people text me at 7:30 on a weekend to ask if I have plans (assuming I have friends, which...I don't yet -working on it I swear, it's legit on my to-do list.) I bust out laughing at the idea of leaving my home past dark. I grow legitimately concerned when I see a girl in an outfit showing both her legs AND boobs. I recently tied a sweater around my shoulders. AROUND.MY.SHOULDERS. Yep. I've really grown up. Sliding into my 30s like a dog on a linoleum kitchen floor - reluctant but also wondering if there are snacks on the other side. I guess the biggest thing in my life recently is Ironman. In case...

So I think we've established at this point I'm living with my parents in St. Louis (in case we haven't and I've once again had an entire explanation in my head but failed to clue in my audience, I just cleared it up for you). For the most part it's been pretty painless, and dare I say enjoyable. I haven't lived at home for more than 2 weeks since graduating high school, and I was 18 then - that's a long time ago. But I've actually learned to love having my coffee made, lunch prepared, clothes washed and ironed, dog walked, and my dinner on the table every day - rough life. The only thing that really seems to lack is that my parents have failed to join the 90's and get cable and internet in the home. I was so taken aback the first time I flipped on the TV while simultaneously attempting to connect to WIFI that I hadn't even considered the alternative to the world wide web and Direct TV. After a few days of quiet despair I found alternative ways ...

Another day passes when St. Louis gets a mild sprinkling of precipitation and the entire city shuts down - not that I'm hating on my snow day or anything. I'll be the first to admit the streets were a little slick this morning but watching the news reporters on TV this morning, you'd think this was the apocalypse. Let's just calm down here for a hot  cold second. It's just snow. It happens every year, multiple times a year. If the mere forecast of the stuff brings panic, might I suggest moving to southern Florida? And the only people who really struggle are those who are dim witted enough to attempt to drive their Scions out right in the thick of it, and frankly they deserve to slide around a bit for buying a Scion in the first place. Another thing is that everyone's snow anxiety would be eased if the rest of the world clued into what Colorado and Utah have known for years: Subaru. A few months ago in Utah it had snowed 2 feet in 24 hours and it was still co...