Tag Archives: triathlete

But I raced anyway

I raced a triathlon this past weekend. In the PRO field. I came out of the water last. I never caught up to a single other PRO, short of the one who dropped out. Eight amateurs beat me. And I knew it would all shake out like this before I stepped to the starting line. But I raced anyway. Because after a year off, a year of having only enough energy to stay afloat in #grief, I missed that place in my mind that I can only reach on a race course. 

#lifeafterloss #teampoppy #imvictoria703 

Take Your Bike on a Trip: Ten Tips from a Pro



Your bike takes you places. 

So why not reciprocate?  

To get you rolling, here are ten tips I’ve tested on flights to six continents:

I wonder what his teachers taught him about the War 

I was alone. I was five miles from town. I was exploring remote caves used as hospitals during the war. I slipped. There was blood. A young man in an old truck stopped. I didn’t speak his language. He didn’t care. He washed my wound with his drinking water. He held napkins to it. He bought me a first aid kit. And after holding myself together for five miles, this final gesture melted me into tears. And he wouldn’t even let me pay him back. 

May, 2015.

Cat Ba Island, Vietnam. 

Make sure you can see the mountains

He was walking home from school and recognized me and the bike. I saw you on my way to school too, he said. Why so much biking?  

I rode along for a few kilometers as he talked. His favorite subject is history. He wants to be a judge. His dad can’t find work. His mom sells fruit. 

When I asked to take his picture, he agreed. But make sure you can see the mountains, he said. I want everyone to know how beautiful my country is. 

Ezulwini Valley, Swaziland.

August, 2015. 

What keeps me wandering

See that tiny speck of human on the bridge?

I thought that if I stood there for the picture, it may better communicate the magnitude of this immense, mile-long, emerald river gorge. But sometimes such perspective means I all but disappear.

And those are the times that keep me wandering the world.

Vintgar Gorge, Slovenia.

October, 2015.

Glacier Running


Resist the urge to ask “how deep is that crevasse?”. 

Ask instead “how high can I fly?”.

October, 2015. Perito Moreno Glacier, Argentina.

 As though it’s a bad word


She’s fiercely independent, they whisper, as though it’s a bad word. But dependent when it matters most, I say. Dependent upon my tools, my strength, my calm, and my belayer to climb out of life’s deepest crevasses.

Fox Glacier, New Zealand. July, 2015. #thatsmeontheglacier