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May 2017

Memphis In May Triathlon Weekend


Ahhhhh Memphis in May. Triathlon weekend. One of my very favorite race weekends. Although I feel this story is getting worn out - I still want to share it again. You see, this is where my triathlon story begins. My first triathlon. 1999. 19 years old. My father excitedly signed me up. I rode on his old bike - and didn’t get in the aerobars at all. At that time there were over a thousand racers - and most of them passed me. And - most of them encouraged me on. The finish stretch of that race is across a grassy levee that overlooks the swim course, then down a little hill to cross the finish line - and I was SO proud to make it to that line! And - the after party… Live music. Memphis BBQ (of course). Beer trucks. Elvis. People everywhere - swapping race stories, tales of past races and those planned for the future - all ages and abilities. Suddenly a roar arose from the crowd - there was the final finisher, crossing the levee - escorted by Elvis himself, complete with a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Everyone stopped to cheer as they crossed that finish line. I was inspired - I decided I liked this triathlon stuff. Maybe if I worked at it, I could even get a little faster.

My dad framed my race pics from that 1999 race - and I have them hanging in my 'tri room' - and still look at them every day.

I have done the Memphis in May triathlon every year since then, except for two. In 2007 my father, my husband, our good friend Jimmy Crossett and I all went to do Ironman Lanzarote, which fell the same weekend as Memphis. And in 2011 I was about 8 1/2 months pregnant - I’m pretty sure the race management was relieved I decided not to race. The Memphis in May Triathlon has been a big part of our lives. Jeff and I even used the DJ from the race (appropriately named Elvis - I kid you not), at our wedding party.

The race itself has seen some ups and downs. It changed locations from Millington, TN (just outside Memphis), to Tunica, Mississippi for a few years. Then, for a number of reasons, it ended up back in Millington. While the number of competitors has decreased, the quality of the competition certainly has not - and the race continues to draw amazingly talented athletes from the region. Driving home on Sunday after the race, I pondered what exactly it is that makes Memphis in May so unique . . . so here are the top 5 reasons why I would recommend coming to race . . .


1.  Elvis. I mean - it is Memphis you know.
I can remember when I first started racing, I was in University up in Canada at the time, and managed to convince a group of my friends to come down and do the race. The guys all grew out their ‘Elvis chops’ - then had the race Elvis judge who had the best. Funny story - one guy was so proud that he painstakingly shaved his chops into Elvis’s logo - unfortunately he ended up with TLC (vs TCB). Now, in a funny twist of fate, my husband has been the ‘Elvis’ for a couple years - and my pre-race anxiety only involves him remembering all the words to the National Anthem . . .

2. The Amateur Challenge
It is no secret that I like to race a lot. So, it is right down my alley that this race offers the opportunity to race a sprint distance on Saturday, followed by the Olympic Distance on Sunday - take the combined time from the two, and split a prize of $5,000 between the top 10 males and top 10 females. And - the competition is pretty serious.

FullSizeRender 12
2017 Edition

3. T-shirts
Every year the race pays tribute to a different country, and designs a t-shirt accordingly. They are always unique, good quality, and are some of my favorite, most worn race shirts. This year was Columbia.

The awards...
Bella is as excited as I am...

4. The Awards
For the award winners of the Olympic Distance race on Sunday, the prize is a glass pyramid with the design from the country of the year in the center. To receive one of those has always been an honor - and they are the lone trophies that my father proudly keeps on display in his office at work. 

I didn't get the 'big picture' of post-race celebration - but this is what mine looked like!

5. Post-race Celebration
The race has continued the tradition of live music, BBQ, and beer. We jokingly say that we first set up our ‘race transition’ but equally important is our ‘post-race transition’ of blanket and chairs in the shade near the band and food (and some years that has even been set up before the race transition . . . ). Over the years I have come to know more and more of the racers, and enjoy catching up with them afterwards - swapping race stories, tales of past races, and those planned for the future. And - we all stop to cheer as Elvis runs in across that levee with the final finisher.

The "King and Queen" of Memphis in May - Elvis with race director Pam Routh

I can’t tell you that the swim is in pristine waters - because it’s not. The roads are rough in places, and tend to flood if it rains too much. It can be hot and humid. The run is deceptively challenging. But the race is very well directed, the volunteers are fabulous, and it has a true family, grass-roots feel to it. It certainly has character, and continues to be one of my very favorite races that I make a point to do every year.

This year I am VERY excited to be racing on my first ever DISC WHEEL! I feel like I have graduated into a select club . . . Thank You Frank Rehnelt!

So - the races this year had some added challenges for me. However, I was able to complete both days, and I gave it the best I had. I enjoyed seeing my friends out on the course - and of course Elvis and my kids cheering me on always makes my heart happy. There were some faces missing this year that I closely associate with Memphis in May . . . my father was racing Chattanooga 70.3 with Gwin Anderson, Tami Winston, and Jimmy Crossett. I always think about Shane Long, Jack Dawson, and my dear friend Ron Turney (Ron - you would have beat me handily on both swims this weekend).

(L-R): My dad (Volker), Jack, Ron, Shane, and Lance - back in the day!

My sister Robyn and her husband Fred were missing as well. And, I always, always think of my Canadian friends who for many, many years loaded up, drove through the night, and spent the weekend with my family. On the flip side - it was really cool to know so many people racing - and share words (or nods, or just thumb’s up) of encouragement along the way. As I crossed that levee on Sunday, I took a moment to take it all in. The crowds, the finish, the memories - and I was just so incredibly happy to be right where I was, in that moment, back where my triathlon story began.


Out to the run!
Finish line - with my good friend George!


One more flashback - post-race party - my dear friend Colleen, Gwin, my dad, and Ron

If you are perchance interested in hearing more about my ‘challenges’ since returning home from Japan, and those that arose during the weekend’s races . . . I debated long and hard about recording them. However, the ‘rest of the story’ (seems my favorite phrase these days - anyone remember Paul Harvey news? I always listened to that with my dad when he drove me to school as a kid . . . but I digress) is available. You will have to go to my website -  and scroll down - it will be just below the Memphis in May post and is titled - 

“A Series of Misfortunate Events - May The Light Shine”.

Read at your own risk . . .

A Series of Misfortunate Events - Let The Light Shine

It seems I seldom have/make time to read, but am currently reading a book called, “Daring Greatly” written by Brene Brown. In it the author discusses being vulnerable - a word that still makes me cringe, and something we (or I) learned at an early age to avoid being at all costs. Yet, every time I write one of these stories, or even toe the line at a race, I feel I am being vulnerable to an extent - putting myself out there, testing my limits, sharing my thoughts and feelings. In the book she quotes a Leonard Cohen lyric from the song “Anthem”, which really resonated with me (I love quotes you know) . . .

There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

I just love that.
Well - here’s me being vulnerable and sharing a few of my many ‘cracks’…

I hate hitting the ground. I also seldom use the word hate, but I really do hate getting hurt - especially doing dumb stuff. In fact, I go to great lengths to pay attention to avoid doing just that, because I can be somewhat clumsy - and I do (usually) learn through experience. I’m also not terribly superstitious, but it has been said that things happen in 3’s….

Number One. Backtrack to Yokohama. Amy and I met at the airport and took a shuttle bus to our hotel, which took about an hour. After a long day of traveling and a significant time-change - I was exhausted. We finally reached our destination, and while getting off the bus (which was filled with all these elite athletes including some Australian pros and Javier Gomez himself . . . ), I tripped down the stairs of the bus with my suitcase and crashed my left knee into the bus door, toppling down onto the road. Yep. Right on my kneecap. Gashed it. I was not impressed, at all. It really was more embarrassing and annoying than anything. It was swollen and hurt, but it was only superficial and (thankfully) would not affect the race. Fortunately, that was the only fall for the weekend, so it certainly could have been much worse. In fact, I wrote a whole story largely celebrating the fact that Amy and I managed to avoid hitting the ground. Well…

One of my favorite photos - finish line with Amy

 Number Two. I got home from Japan around midnight Sunday night. Monday night was the ‘local’ time trial my family puts on. It was a beautiful day - and I was pretty excited to meet up with my multisport and cycling friends and share some stories. My coach and I decided it would be good to ride for about an hour and do some intervals before the time trial, then do the time trial and follow it up with a brick run - a good solid training day to get back on track. The time came to get on my bike, and I was ‘slightly’ tired. In fact, it took some serious mental talk (maybe including a Rule #5 moment) to get myself off the couch and onto my bike. But - it was a beautiful day, and I love to ride my bike, and I knew I would feel better for doing it. Heading out I could not get over how weird it felt to be on my bike. After riding a tandem for the past few days, I felt really wobbly by myself. However, things seemed to get better as I kept going - I did my intervals, and was heading to the medical clinic where I work before the time trial when things started feeling ‘off’ again. Now, I had a flat on my rear wheel that I changed prior to Japan, and I never discovered what caused it, so my impression was that it was going flat again causing the unstable feeling. I was less than 1/4 mile from the clinic, so decided to just ride easy (as it was not completely flat, just low), and change it when I got there. I was turning into clinic drive from the highway when suddenly I found myself skidding along the asphalt. Just like that. Fortunately - I was not run over. Unfortunately, I broke the shifter from the end of my aerobar and had road rash all down my left arm and leg. But - no broken bones. I called Jeff who was just leaving the house, and asked him to bring my other bike for me. I got my chain back on, got back on my bike, limped my way to the clinic, showered and scrubbed the asphalt out of my wounds, put on some tegaderm, got back in my kit (which fortunately only had a small hole in the side), and showed up for the time trial trying like hell to pretend nothing had happened (of course, cyclists are pretty good at spotting road rash…).


Time Trial lineup - good turnout!

I made it through the 12.6 mile time trial (not surprisingly it was not my finest effort), and even did a short brick run after. (For the record, none of this was the smartest decision, but I can be slightly stubborn, and I did notify my coach before said time trial, who advised me to eat ice cream and sent me a picture including beer and guacomole, and told me the the time trial might be therapeutic but I could skip the brick run if I wanted to - might I add I absolutely love my coach, she is awesome - thank you Suzanne Atkinson!). So - what caused my wipe-out? Probably a combination of many things. When I later checked the bike my front tire (not the rear after all) was low, and my back wheel was not secure. Bottom line - it happened, it sucks, but gotta just keep moving forward and deal with it (I will spare you the photographic evidence....).

As I really do not like making a fuss, I tried like crazy to pretend everything was ok at work the next few days. I wore long sleeves to cover my skinned up arm, and stood as much as I could. Road rash never happens in great places you know - it’s areas that you need to apply pressure - like your butt, or your forearm right where it rests in the aerobars. Of course. I also managed to continue my training - although it brought new meaning to making deposits in the ‘pain account’. And then it was time for my FAVORITE race weekend - Memphis in May.

With Elvis, Pam Routh (race director), and one of my all-time favorite race announcers....

Number Three. So - there is just no way to hide road rash in a tri suit. Period. I was just praying for a non-wetsuit swim Saturday morning - and that was granted. I figured the worst part of the race would be getting through the swim without anyone crashing into my left side . . . and that worked out too. Sweet. Through transition, onto my favorite part of the race - the bike. Just as I am mounting my bike something hits me hard from behind . . . and just like that I am on the ground. Again. Right foot and right palm bloody from the asphalt. Again. Someone had run into me from behind - OK, not much I could do, get on my bike to go, but something was wrong. Rear wheel was off. Usually I can deal with setbacks pretty calmly and keep my composure - but I can’t say that I did very well this go-round. Something about so recently hitting the ground, hurting like crazy already, then going down again, plus a bike mechanical on top of it - well, it was a bit much. However, I was able to get the bike sorted, and try again. Headed out on the course, shifted gears - to find that the bike shifted all the way into my hardest gear, and stayed. Right. There. I tried multiple times throughout the race to shift gears - with the same result, nothing. So, what could I do? I rode it. Good thing I like to mash gears. I just had to laugh. Especially at the turn arounds, heading back up hill - standing and mashing, just trying to make the best of the situation. And - I made it through. And - I made it through the run. And - everything hurt. But that finish line sure was an accomplishment!

Sunday morning. My five year old son, Sebastian, asks me before the race, “Mama, do you think you can ride your bike today without falling down?”. Sounded good to me, and I promised him I would try. The swim - wetsuit legal. Yep. And I wore one. Might have been the toughest part of the race, putting that thing on. But I did - and I made it through the swim.

Surveying what was to come...

Thanks to Josh Jacobs of Bike Peddlar, my bike was back in working order, and I was very thankful to him every time I switched gears on that ride. And I knew the run was really going to hurt, so I just rode as hard as I could - ‘cause I really do love to ride my bike, despite everything. And - I managed NOT to fall off.

Have I mentioned how much I love my bike? And my disc wheel?

Headed out on the run - a solid 30 seconds slower than my ideal pace . . . but I was running. I figure every race has about 3 goals: 1) an exceeds all expectations, everything-goes-right, best-case-scenario goal 2) a more realistic, ideal, training-pays-off goal and 3) an “I’m just gonna be happy to finish”, rule #5, make the best of it goal. Well - today was a #3 type of day. I focused on all the run form tips from my coach and from the great Bobby McGee. I thought about all the things I said to Amy last week in Yokohama, encouraging her on. I gave thumbs up to my fellow racers out there digging deep and testing their limits.

At the turn around I caught sight of my friend and competition - Kate. Interesting thing about Kate - I see that girl everywhere. I’ll be at a random race on the other side of the country, and she will be there. In the pre-dawn darkness before the start of the Vuelta Puerto Rico I look over, and there she is. Be it a triathlon or a bike race - I end up racing with her all over the place. So - she started before me in the race, and she was running strong, but I could tell she was digging deep too. I would feel a little better and reel her in, then she would feel better and pull away again. At the 5 mile mark she really picked it up and I thought, “Oh geez, she is going to sprint this last mile” - so I tried to pick it up a little, and kept her in sight. We reached that long grassy levee to the finish, and I finally catch up with her. A number of thoughts raced through my mind . . . “We could run in together, that would be pretty cool”, “I don’t really think I have it in me to beat her across the levee”, “I think she has more left to give, she should go for it” . . . and so, that’s what I told her. Something along the lines of - ‘you’ve got this. go for it. just across the levee. give it what you have left’. - probably not exactly, but that was the gist of it. And - she did. And, I couldn’t stay with her. But - it was a beautiful thing to see. We’ve all been there - testing our limits, and being able to find that extra strength to push past what we think we can do - it was so, so awesome. So, I watched Kate race across that levee and I continued to push myself with whatever I had left. I took in the crowds, the announcer, Elvis, my kids cheering me on - and I was so incredibly happy to be right where I was, in that moment, back where my triathlon story began.

That would be Kate - charging to the finish! Thanks BPC for capturing that moment!

After the race we all congratulated each other on surviving a tough race, then gradually dispersed, but a few minutes later Kate came back over to me. She said, “I just have to give you one more hug. I just got my results, and that was my fastest run - ever”. Well, I have to tell you, every night before my kids go to bed I ask them what the best part of their day was. I can tell you right now, in a weekend full of great memories, THAT was the best part of my weekend.

So, I am now battered, bruised, and sore all over. If misfortune does indeed come in 3’s hopefully I have that out of the way for a while - make that a VERY LONG while. I will confess I stopped on the way home, and I bought ice cream. And I enjoyed every bite (except the couple Jeff managed to sneak). And - that’s the story of a few of my cracks. I hope the light shines through . . . or, better yet, I hope it shines some light for someone else.

“And now you know the rest of the story”

Thanks for reading.

Women's podium from Saturday's sprint race: Kate, myself, Lesley, and Elizabeth - oh, and Elvis

Jumping In With Both Feet

Saturday, April 29. I am driving home from Cary, North Carolina, after racing the Long Course Duathlon National Championship. Just as I’m stopping for food and a stretch, my phone rings. To my surprise, it is Ivonne, the girl I guided for in a triathlon earlier this spring. I hadn’t heard from her since the race - so I was very excited that she was calling. As it turns out, she was calling to inquire whether I would be interested in guiding for another visually impaired athlete - Amy Dixon. Well, sure! No sooner did I get off the phone with her, I received an email from Helen Phipps (who helped connect me with Ivonne and the world of guiding in the first place) - making the same request. Hmmmmm - interesting. Within the next ten minutes Amy herself contacted me. And here’s the story . . . this girl has been training like crazy in preparation for a race taking place in 2 weeks. Then she was notified that her current guide would not be allowed to guide her (part of the guiding regulations are that you cannot race as a professional triathlete in any ITU sanctioned race within the past 12 months - and her current guide had). Her backup guide had an unfortunate bike crash in Ironman Texas and was awaiting an MRI on her ankle. Basically, any other guide she had used in the past was unavailable - and she was faced with the possibility of not being able to race . . . simply because she had no one to guide her. Can you imagine? There was one slight logistical challenge . . . she was scheduled to leave for the race in 9 days - the location, Japan.

Wow. What a situation. I have to say, I am a big believer that things happen for a reason. I knew immediately that - if I had no obligations (i.e. a family with two little kids and a job) - I would have told her yes immediately, without hesitation. There is just something about guiding that I am very passionate about, and although I readily admit I am very inexperienced, I am willing to put in the effort and work to change that. However, I needed to clear it with family and work, so I told Amy I would let her know by the end of the weekend. I also let her know in no uncertain terms about my newness to guiding, and asked her to use me as a last resort - if any of her other guides could possibly help her their experience would definitely be more of an advantage.

     I am blessed with the most incredibly supportive husband. No sooner did I explain the situation to Jeff he was behind it 100%. Without a moment’s hesitation he told me I absolutely should go. He is amazing, and I don’t take for granted how lucky I am. Now, what to do about work? Again, I am fortunate that my job (and boss) is also supportive of my racing and opportunities - so we managed to schedule some extra hours of work in the week coming up in order to get the next week off. It indeed takes (more than) a village - let me tell you. I owe big thanks to my work scheduling department and my absolutely wonderful, hard-working, never-complaining, go-the-extra-mile nurses who helped me through the week. I gave Amy the green light, and as she had found no other guides available, on Tuesday I found myself with a ticket to fly to Japan in 6 days. Pretty crazy.


    So, as I have mentioned, I am still very new to guiding. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I have been on a tandem. And - I’m not a fan of doing things half-way. If I was going to fly across the world to help someone with a serious race, I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. All accounts said that the course in Japan was very technical on the bike. That was fine - except for my concerns with handling a tandem. I needed to find SOMEONE to ride a tandem with, to work on some handling skills. My brave sister, Robyn, was kind enough to ride with me before I went to race with Ivonne - and might I add that when she trusted me enough to ride with me it was the first time EITHER of us had ever been on a tandem. I knew I could count on her to help me, but what I really needed was someone experienced with handling a tandem who could teach me. I contemplated driving to Chattanooga (a 5 hour drive one way for me) to ride with one of Amy’s teammates - but the weather was iffy and time too valuable. Suddenly, I had another idea . . . a long-time family friend lives an hour from me, has a tandem, and is an experienced bike racer - maybe he could help me. So, I messaged Shane Long. This was Wednesday night - and incredibly it worked with both our schedules to meet the next morning. The day dawned grey and rainy, which was actually just what I needed to practice in. Shane was amazing - he took me around (and might I add he is the first person I have been brave enough to ride a tandem with as pilot), and I was able to appreciate the back-seat perspective. As we switched positions and I practiced cornering and turn-arounds I had to laugh as Shane made my favorite comment of the day . . . “Woah, it’s scary back here”. Let me add that was just when we first started, and he was more comfortable (at least I hope) by the time we finished. However, it still makes me laugh . . .

    And before I knew it, I was landing in Japan. Amy and I arrived on Tuesday night, checked into our hotel - and slept. Wednesday morning we did a little run together - which went really well. After breakfast my lack of bike mechanic skills were again blatantly obvious as I watched her put together her tandem.


And - let me tell you about her bike. It.Is.Amazing. She calls her ‘Bomber’ - she is a sleek, black, custom designed Calfee with Di2 shifting, and race wheels. A cadillac of bikes to put it mildly. Beautiful. And fast. We did our first ride together, appropriately enough, in the rain. Not only that, the practice course was on a cobble-stone type surface, slippery, and was probably less than 1/2 mile long with 3 turn arounds. For those of you who don’t like to do a turnaround on your bike in the middle of a 2 lane road by yourself - I want you to picture this: Raining. Wet. Slippery. Tight corners. Other riders in front of and behind you. Officials at every turn watching you. Barricades. On a tandem. With someone visually impaired trusting you. Now flip that and imagine the same scenario except you are on the back - and you are visually impaired. Riding with someone you have never ridden with before and don’t even know if they can handle a bike. I hope you get the picture.


    However, once again it was just the type of conditions we needed to practice in. And - we did not go down, or even come close to it. And, we felt a lot better having practiced. In fact, on Friday morning when we did our actual course preview, none of the turns seemed like a big deal at all.

    Amy and I hit it off right from the start. She too has an amazing story. She grew up in Connecticut, and by the time she was in her 20s she was a pharmacy student at the University of Connecticut by day and waiting tables by night. Then, things started to change. One evening, as she went to pour a glass of wine, she missed the glass. She found herself bumping into objects she simply didn’t see. At first it was easy to chalk it up to being overtired, “burning the candle at both ends” - school, work, studying, and little sleep. But things continued to progress - she started tripping without knowing why, and even missed steps taking several tumbles down flights of stairs. This seemed to get worse at night or when the lighting was poor. Her mother visited and was alarmed by the number of bruises covering her body, and knew something was amiss. Since childhood Amy had suffered from migraines, and as fate would have it, her neurologist refused to refill her medication without seeing her for a check-up. During the visit, Amy mentioned her strange vision issues, and when her neurologist tested her visual fields found her peripheral vision was absent. He immediately recommended that she see an opthalmologist. Amy stalled, her busy schedule with work and school did not leave time for another appointment, and she had no health insurance and really could not afford to pay another bill. Sensing that she would not follow through, her neurologist cleared the rest of his schedule for the day and personally escorted her to the specialist. What followed were a series of tests and consults ending with a diagnosis of multifocal choroiditis - a very rare, progressive eye disease that generally results in complete vision loss…blindness.

    Again, imagine the situation. You are 22 years old. You are in school, have a great job, a full and busy life . . . and suddenly out of the blue someone tells you that you are losing your ability to see and that within the next few years you will be blind. How do you think you would react? No. No way. Not me. I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. You must have me confused with someone else. There’s no way that’s happening to me. That can’t happen to me. You guys must be crazy. You’re wasting my time. I’m outta here.

    And, that’s what happened. Except, things didn’t get better. In fact, they continued to get worse. More spilled wine. Collisions with waiters whom she just couldn’t see. More bruises and falls and even a few broken ribs. Finally, Amy decided to seek the opinion of her long-time family doc (aka her pediatrician). She gave him the whole story, and he encouraged her to go back to the specialist. Still with no money and no health insurance, she saved all her tips and paychecks for the next 6 weeks, and made an appointment. The verdict was still the same. And, the treatments began. Numerous eye surgeries over the span of a few years. Medications and side-effects. Some left her sick. Some left her unable to move - resulting in her lying on her office floor until the security guards came to check on her. Some - lead to malignancy, melanoma, resulting in further medications and treatments. Yet, through all this she persevered. When the steroid treatments resulted in weight gain, she knew she had to take action. She started swimming and running - lost 60lbs, and found triathlon.

    And - that is the short version. Visually impaired, still plagued with migraines, and with bowel disease that has surfaced along the way (she suffered a bowel obstruction just days before leaving for Japan, ending up with a hospital stay), it makes “just” swimming/biking/running sound easy. Yet this girl refuses to be stopped. She trains hard, remains upbeat and positive, and is a true example of perseverance. There’s a gatorade quote I love that states, “You can throw in the towel or use it to wipe the sweat from your face” - well if anyone ever had an excuse (or 20) to throw in the towel, it is Amy Dixon - yet she continues to hold on fiercely and sweat it out.


    Race morning. Grey. Windy. Rainy. But - spirits were high. Really, at the end of the day, we were here. Racing was better than not. We had nothing to lose. Our goals - stay safe, have fun, race hard. And - we did. We had a smooth, steady swim. We stayed on course.

At swim course preview


We exited to transition feeling good. Onto the bike. During the first lap (it was a 4 lap course), coming around a corner we hit a slick spot and the back wheel slipped - it caught just fine, but it did get our attention. Then on the back of the course there was a really tight chicane of right-left-right, lined with barricades, and as I went to brake . . . we barely slowed. Hmmmmmm. “Amy - we don’t have much in the way of brakes. I’m just gonna warn you. So - the turns are going to be slow and cautious.” But - we did just fine. Every lap got a little better. We went hard when it was safe, and we kept the turns conservative. I got really good at avoiding paint and manhole covers - let me tell you. And - then it was on to the run. Just out of transition, Amy’s stomach cramped into knots. We had a 3 lap run, and despite the added challenge, Amy ran strong. She never gave in, never slowed, kept it strong and steady - and kept moving forward. She accelerated all the way down the blue carpet to the finish line - and crossed as a champion. Officially she finished 4th - but it was a win on so many different levels. We stayed safe. We raced hard. And - we had FUN.


I met so many incredible athletes over the 5 days I spent in Japan. People who fate has dealt a hard hand to - and who have persevered and overcome - who have made the best out of tough situations. I don’t know all the stories, and I certainly cannot begin to imagine all the day-to-day challenges - much less how those challenges are multiplied by doing a triathlon (think different prosthesis needed from bike to run, different chairs from bike to run, needing a ‘handler’ or someone to help you, the list goes on).

I am so very thankful to Amy for giving me this incredible opportunity, and trusting me to be her eyes. To all those who I met, and who raced in Yokohama - I have nothing but respect. Thank you for letting me be a part of it. I cannot even begin to tell you how much it affected me. Inspired. Humbled. Honored.

IMG_9425 2

We seldom know why things happen the way they do. Sometimes we are given opportunities or challenges - and accepting them is not always the easy answer. But, sometimes you just have to trust your instincts, take a leap of faith, and… jump in with both feet.


For more about Amy Dixon check out her website:


And some randomness...

Incredible floral display on the run course



Pretty serious about umbrellas....
...and their toilets. First place I've ever returned home from and been disappointed by our bathrooms....
And - also serious about bikes!



The beautiful red brick warehouse district - part of the bike course


The "Garden Necklace" - beautiful run course


Couldn't resist adding in my soccer players :)