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about me

In many ways, I am still a child. Not because of youth: I am a child in my impulsiveness, my fascination with childlike play, my requirement for freedom in motion, and my free-spirited rebellious nature. The way I yearn to feel, and the resulting tendency to put emotional moments: the times of feeling, expressing, and simply being, as the highest standard in which life is lived.

I believe life is to be lived and opportunities taken, and that impossible is only a limitation when accepted. I am timid, shy, anxious.

I have somehow created two glorious little children, who laugh and play and create... They are a world of joy. I am married to a rock climber who not only tolerates my running but is understanding of my visceral outbursts and instabilities. I live near the Wasatch Front in Utah.

...and if you're hungry for more, an old blog post.

Popular posts from this blog

a new year; a wasatch akitu

“Think now history has many cunning passages, contrived corridors, and issues, deceives with whispering ambitions, guides us by vanities. …The tiger springs in the new year. Us he devours.”
another new year startled us today. somewhere between the late night meandering into a warm bed, after the clock already struck a replayed chime marking the change of calendar (for, we can DVR the change of year and play it in every time zone,) and after the morning coffee, sunrise, prayers, or routines—the time has changed, and so have we.
the Wasatch is a flurry, the new recreational pursuits settling into it as the heavy snow settles onto it. it has been a dense year of both snow and increased use of the snow.
although this mountain range sits above a major metropolitan area, it retains pockets of wild refuge still hidden from its’ own mountain refugees. these pockets of frozen time are still filled with change. no man steps into the same Wasatch twice, for it is not the same Wasatch, nor is it the…

Deadhorse 50k - the prose of race day thoughts

It was Friday, and I was driving south to meet a dear friend who was going to accompany me to the Deadhorse 50k race the following day. I left work and drove straight towards our meeting spot, the snowy wasatch skirted by golden brown foothills on my left, with foothills of similar caliber on my right.

Further south there was something rising from the hills on my right. There wasn't a stream or river to provide fog, was this dust? I tried to look for signs of wind; there was none.  Was this smoke? But the foothills were neither blackened nor glowing. Preoccupied with this strange phenomenon, I focused in as I approached the strange hills. The evening winter light was striking these hills directly, perhaps for the first time that day... and then I realized I was witnessing a rising water vapor, 'breath,' similar to seeing one's breath on a cold day.
The hills where breathing, sighing. Although I'd driven beside these hills countless times, and run across similar at …

that WEIGHTY issue

It's been said to us climbers that what we do is dangerous, and irresponsible. How could we risk our lives like this? And distance trail running, if it compromises our health why do it? How dare we take that time away from our families? And yet, to even make mention about a different lifestyle, one of weight, obesity, and all of the very dangerous and risky components it involves is socially disgraceful, insensitive, and cruel. I bring this up only to show how much weight, in general, is not "ok" to talk about. It's a sensitive subject, even, no, especially, for those of us already at a healthy weight who use our bodies to their fullest daily...

Now, this blog is about running, ain't it? Yep. So while there's a lot of "weight" we could cover in this "weighty" area, we'll just go over one. Running.
Running and weight are intertwined. I'd like to say that this post is primarily for the ladies, because we typically store more weight t…