What Does it Mean to be #epic?

It started out harmlessly as a phrase – the “epic fail.”

img_6514Somehow, it really morphed into my little mantra, my hashtag, a few years ago. But really, what does it mean?

For me, epic is the act of throwing it out there and living life as it was meant to be lived. Sure, it could result in an “epic fail.” But it could also be amazing. To be epic is to step out of comfort zones to try new things, meet new friends, choosing joy over all else.

To be scared, but to do it anyway. Yeah, it’s probably very public, too. LOL

img_0720I have what will be my last marathon coming up in a few short months. Yep, I said it – final. I’m truly petrified that it will be a crash and burn. Why not – the last one sure was. It’s been a heck of a ride, but my health challenges have caught up to me and I made a promise to my doctors that I would dial it back really soon. They promised to keep me patched together with duct tape if necessary, for a few bucket list items I really want to do, so 2018 is planned out to be a big blow out with a half Ironman and one ultra marathon in one of my most favorite places. In other words – EPIC.

It’s all good, I can’t wait to see how much I can improve on the short distance stuff. Even better? Less training and more FUN! 😉

So the biggest question is – are you waking up every day, deciding that it will be EPIC? Jump right on out of that comfort zone and dream really BIG! Join a new group, take up a new skill, enroll in a class, do something that absolutely terrifies you, take the risk, and JUMP! Sure, it might not be perfect. Life rarely is. But man, what a ride.






Friday Favorites: Lip Color


OK, this is totally girly and high maintenance, but there is something about having lip color on. I don’t wear makeup pretty much ever (unless it’s a special occasion or some big business meeting that I need to attend). I’m really just a brush my hair and go kind of girl, because I like sleep and training too much to care.

img_1366But yeah, the lip color. I’ve always had to have some sort of color on my lips, even when I’m out there running. I used the Cover Girl lip stain for years because it generally would hold up for most of the workout. But as I was standing in line waiting to swim at my first triathlon this year, a girl standing next to me noticed my lip stain and asked if it was LipSense and what color it was.

I gave her this really puzzled look because I had never heard of that stuff before, but like most things I don’t know about, I just smiled and made a note to look it up later. Flash forward to the end of the race and of course I couldn’t remember a stinking thing. Whatever…

But at a road race a few months later, there was a lady at a tent selling this stuff! It was like it was karma telling me I needed this lipstick. I blindly handed over my credit card after being told it wouldn’t ever come off until I wanted it to come off. Well, we’ll see.

img_6245She was right! I am completely hooked on this stuff and have eight different colors for all of my moods. AND THE GLOSS! I have PINK.GLITTER.GLOSS. The key is to use it exactly as the directions state. One coat, wait til it dries, another coat, wait til it dries, then a third coat and wait til it dries. Then go crazy with the gloss from the same company because it locks it in.

I have worn it for open water swims of an hour and it still looks like I just put it on. I have worn it for three hour long runs and all the water stops and eating that goes along with it, and it still looks like I just put it on. I have women make comments at the end of triathlons at the finish line about how I MUST have put lipstick on before I crossed the finish line and where the heck did I carry it.

I don’t sell this stuff, and you could likely find someone local for you, but if you want a really sweet gal who is a public school teacher looking to make a little extra cash, send me a message and I’ll introduce her to you!

Limiting Language: Or How I Learned to Fly…

“I am ONLY running a half marathon this week.”

“I am JUST a beginner.”

“It’s JUST a LITTLE sprint triathlon.”

“I would love to join, BUT I probably couldn’t keep up with you guys.”

“I don’t have one of those fancy bikes.”

“Thanks, but I have so much more to lose.”

“Have I reminded you lately that I’m not fast?”


I have heard it a million times from my husband, gently correcting me and telling me how proud he is of me; that I am “doing fantastic.” I hear it from my guy friends that I always worry only run with me to humor me; “you’re doing great.” But something about being called out by a coach you really respect hit me like a lightning bolt. He did it so perfectly, so respectfully, but in a way that told me that he was serious and not just humoring my lack of self-confidence.

“Let’s remove that limiting language. You’re going with the flow, so just enjoy the journey and see where it takes you.”

“Limiting language.” Wow, I hadn’t heard it that way before. It’s always been “don’t be so hard on yourself.” Which, let’s be real, is code for “stop it, you’re fine, insert gratuitous comment and eye roll here.”

I’m a slow learner and it’s take a few weeks for this to sink in, but I see it everywhere now. I have observed it in almost every interaction I have had. I am constantly limiting myself by subconsciously telling myself that I’m not enough. I see it in all of my friends, too. We are always putting ourselves down in that stealthy way and we shouldn’t be. We like to think that we are telling ourselves that we are enough, but then that little demon that sits on the left shoulder whispers in our ear the complete opposite. It whispers those stupid words: ONLY, JUST, BUT.

When we limit our language, we limit what we are capable of.

Enough! I am making the commitment to stop my limiting language NOW. I am proud of what I can accomplish. I am not in competition with anyone, not even myself. I am not who I was yesterday, three months ago, or three years ago. I am choosing to live in the present and find the joy and satisfaction in doing exactly what my body, and my mind, allows today. It doesn’t mean I don’t have goals. On the contrary! But by releasing myself from the chains of “not enough,” I will build a far better foundation with which to reach those goals because I will have the confidence that I CAN.


So my challenge to all of my girlfriends – remove your limiting language and let your truths shine on their own merit. Own it all and be joyous in what your body can accomplish today, because seriously, we are all doing truly epic stuff.

“I am running 13.1 miles this week!”

“I am so excited to learn something new!”

“I am training to swim, bike and run – all in the same race!”

“Thanks for the run, guys!”

“I am squeezing every ounce of awesomeness out of this bike!”

“Thanks for the compliment, I’m working hard!”

“Hey Coach, watch me fly…”


Like a cat thrown in the deep end of a pool…


cat-in-the-pool-5I’m mortified to even admit it. How did I get this way? I’m not sure. I think I have always had a fear of the water. As a kid, I wanted to be at the pool parties with my friends, but I was too terrified of being in the water so I would either not go or I would wear regular clothes and make an excuse. I think I had swim lessons, but I don’t ever remember getting past the “blowing bubbles in the shallow end” stage.

girls at the beach

What a day at the beach looks like – sand only, thank you…

If I got caught up in a body of water that was deeper than me, I can assure you, I could not save myself – that’s how bad I can’t swim. I have full-on panic attacks in the water when I can’t touch the bottom.

But 2016 is my year of #doing epic shit; and epic shit must include facing 43 year old fears. Epic shit includes being a great mom that is a role model for a seven year old little girl that can’t swim, has complete panic attacks in a body of water deeper than waist high and can’t get water in her face when she gets her hair washed. I want so much to teach her that it is ok to be afraid, but that strong girls learn to face fears instead of running away.

So here I am, holding on for dear life in a pool that is deeper than I am tall. So many fierce women in my life have told me they couldn’t swim before they decided that they would learn and go tackle IronMan competitions. I suspect that their “can’t swim” definition isn’t quite like mine, but nonetheless, I have been talked in to trying a triathlon.

Observation #1: Holy smokes, swimming lessons are tough to find for adults! Most of what I find when I search in the great googly for swim lessons is for little kids. I can neither make a 2pm swim lesson on Thursdays nor do I want to be shown up by a bunch of four year olds. Those kids are mean! The little bullies would totally make fun of the “big kid that is holding on for dear life and crying in the corner” (aka, me, LOL). So, off I go to googly “swim lessons for triathletes.” Hmmm, they seem a bit more advanced for what I’m looking for. I’m still holding on to the edge, remember? By luck, I saw that DFW Tri Club puts on a three-class beginner program that is designed for real beginners. A quick email to the coach assured me that it was ok that I really couldn’t swim. So I signed up.

all the stuff

when the heck did I get all this stuff???

Observation #2: How did I amass so much stuff just to swim???  In a short time, I have been told I needed a snorkel (so I bought one), a pair of goggles (yep, got ‘em), a kickboard (can I use this thing in the race???), a pair of flipper things (ok, these are really cool), a weird figure-eight buoy thing for keeping my butt up (really? I’d prefer my head up, but ok), and a nose clip (which I found was perfect with that blasted snorkel).

Observation #3: Despite all this STUFF, I’m apparently going to have to get up and down that pool in the race without any of it. This is not good. I tried the little flipper things, and they are awesome! And the kickboard is better than little arm wings so I’d really like to keep it. The snorkel? Keep it. I hate this thing. It’s like breathing through a straw, which has been the cause of many of my panic attacks because it’s like having a bad asthma attack.

wetcatSo, twenty-five yards at a time, I hang on to the wall and stare at the end, willing myself to make it all the way. With my trusty little flipper-things, I can just about make it all the way down in my own weird little “cat in the deep-end” way. It’s not pretty. I haven’t been able to master the “sing to the fishies, listen to the fishies” method of breathing while moving. For goodness sakes, there are four things going on at once and I’m clearly not able to remember to do them all at the same time! When I move my arms, I forget to kick. When I kick, I forget to breathe, and when I breathe, I forget to pull my head out of the water. I’m a complete mess.

So, I’m looking for any tips and tricks you may have on how to tackle that which might kill me. If you overcame a complete fear of the water to learn to swim, I’m all ears, because “listening to the fishies” is what I’m all about these days.

me and linda

Linda and me, tackling fears of water… I didn’t drown that day…