<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:50:16.412-05:00</updated><category term='abigail porter'/><category term='killington'/><category term='Falmouth Sprint'/><category term='good life'/><category term='trail marathon'/><category term='big sur'/><category term='masters swim class'/><category term='abigail porter blog'/><category term='irish goodbye'/><category term='love affairs'/><category term='Dunks'/><category term='Harry Potter'/><category term='Creepy Ken'/><category term='Race Calendar'/><category term='colorado'/><category term='telemark'/><category term='Abby Porter'/><category term='zion'/><category term='USAF'/><category term='Vegan'/><category term='outlook'/><category term='Pirate Triathlon'/><category term='CMSC'/><category term='Spring Fling Triathlon'/><category term='Wisco'/><category term='Santa Fe'/><category term='strength'/><category term='jackson hole'/><category term='triathlon training'/><category term='skinning'/><category term='Love'/><category term='skiing at vail'/><category term='5430 Boulder Peak'/><category term='ironman training'/><category term='match.com profile'/><category term='New Mexico'/><category term='dating'/><category term='Combat Rescue Officer'/><category term='heartbreak'/><category term='boston'/><category term='triathlon racing'/><category term='the China Study'/><title type='text'>Abigail Porter: 30s Something Girl</title><subtitle type='html'>Abigail Porter blogs about her life adventures and illuminates on finding balance between love, relationships, athletics and life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-8057671915350747480</id><published>2012-01-14T11:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T11:22:34.684-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Happiness Project</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to tell you hold old I'm turning in two weeks, but let's just say that I'm not in my 20s anymore and it's&amp;nbsp;two of the same number back to back. I suppose that has something to do with what I'm about to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the notes section of my iPhone I have a list called &lt;em&gt;my happiness project&lt;/em&gt;. Under that section I have random thoughts and reminders that I have jotted down&amp;nbsp;for myself dating back to October 26th, 2010. It's&amp;nbsp;interesting to look back at the things I thought were important at the time and see how I'm dealing with them now. I have a note about my sentiment when changing companies, ideas on the triathlon I want to produce, my "three things" I want out of a relationship, people's birthdays and vacations that I want to take. One note&amp;nbsp;in particular that I like, posted on December 25, 2010, simply says "stop drinking, you can't sleep."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things that I absolutely love about my life is that it's very social. I love hanging out with my girlfriends, I regularly go on dates (thanks to match.com) and I do fun activities on the weekends like skiing. When you're like me and pack all of that and more into one week, it's often difficult to decide which night warrants a celebratory beverage. If the girls come over -&amp;nbsp;you know there is wine, if I'm on a date -&amp;nbsp;you know there is beer, and at apr&lt;strong&gt;è&lt;/strong&gt;s ski on the weekends - you know there&amp;nbsp;is a frosty brew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer, I gave up drinking for the duration of my brother's deployment in&amp;nbsp;Afghanistan. In the first couple of weeks my sugar cravings went way up. I wanted candy or ice cream and my beverage of choice was&amp;nbsp;an Arnold Palmer stacked with sugary lemonade. After a couple of months, these cravings subsided and I fell into a more normal routine. My sense of smell heightened and I could smell the sweetness of wine from across the table,&amp;nbsp;my taste buds became stronger and the my clarity of thought was exciting.&amp;nbsp;I could stay up later and still have the energy to leap out of bed in the morning. Moreover, I really enjoyed this way of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Dary got back, and since he was my reason for not indulging, I clicked a&amp;nbsp;celebratory brew with him in August. Since then, I moved back to Colorado and I've been catching up with friends, going on lots of dates and skiing every weekend. And again, I've fallen into a pattern where it is hard to distinguish which night should be the "party" night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, when I do partake in adult beverages&amp;nbsp;I usually&amp;nbsp;drink two beers, which is more than enough for me to feel the effects. Despite not having a lot to drink I still get mad at myself for having any at all. My friends say to me - Abby, it's not like you drink a lot and&amp;nbsp;it's OK to have a couple of beers. I suppose I'm telling you this to give you a sense of my habits, which&amp;nbsp;are not necessarily of&amp;nbsp;overindulgence but rather of too frequent of indulgence, at least for my standards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that even if I just have one beer with dinner when I'm out on a date that I still get mad at myself. Getting back to that note that I left myself in my phone over a year ago, which said "stop drinking, you can't sleep," I find that even half a glass of wine&amp;nbsp;has the potential to&amp;nbsp;disrupt my sleeping patterns as well as&amp;nbsp;my energy for the next day. Moreover, I want a level of control in my life that excludes this type of behavior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of other things that have influenced my thought process on this matter. The first is, I'm at the age where I expect the people around me to&amp;nbsp;have the discipline to not drink if they are driving and to not drink to dullness, as Ben Franklin said in his 13 virtues. My point here is that I&amp;nbsp;want to act in the way that I expect others to act. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other reason is derived from my age, my goals and&amp;nbsp;what I see happening among my friends. It's no secret that&amp;nbsp;I am single and want to get married and have kids. Biologically, I want to protect my assets so when time is right, I'll be ready and able to reproduce. The fact is, women are born with a certain number of eggs and those degrade over time. The scary thing is, I have friends who are trying to conceive and they are having trouble due to degrading eggs or simply because of age, literally, as pronounced by medical tests. In my own head I do believe that good nutrition and health could have a positive&amp;nbsp;impact on keeping every part of&amp;nbsp;my body in good working condition, including those little eggs inside of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;think that a compounding factor to why I enjoy beer is related to my sugar addiction. When I was training for the Ironman I believe that I subconsciously taught my body that if I was even a smidgen of tired or hungry that I should pop a chocolate gu or eat something. Despite my historic&amp;nbsp;love for sugar, this habit of popping sugar bites has transcended into my every day life. At work the thought will cross my mind, &lt;em&gt;ooh, I'd love some chocolate right now&lt;/em&gt;. Or, &lt;em&gt;ooh, I want some skittles&lt;/em&gt;. Last Friday morning as I finished up my coffee, I&amp;nbsp;got one of these thoughts at 10:30am and I thought - &lt;em&gt;woa, I'm addicted to sugar&lt;/em&gt;. I think that consuming beer satisfies that subconscious smidgen of desire to pop some sugar in my mouth and&amp;nbsp;quench that little urge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hinging&amp;nbsp;on the New Year and what I felt should be my resolutions, I decided last Friday to go cold turkey on alcohol and sugar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later I'm in the airport, heading home from a business trip and find a book called &lt;a href="http://www.happiness-project.com/" target="_blank"&gt;The Happiness Project&lt;/a&gt;, by Gretchen Rubin. I found that her reason for taking on a year of happiness, as the book describes, closely parallels many of the things I've thought about in&amp;nbsp;my own life. Despite the fact that I'm in an amazing phase of my life and bursting with more happiness than I remember having in years, I still have times when I think - &lt;em&gt;wow I'm so lucky and I have so much, so why is it that I&amp;nbsp;fail to&amp;nbsp;appreciate it more in the moment?&lt;/em&gt;. She goes on to list the things that make her happy, and I did the same in the notes section of my iPhone, once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My list of things that make me happy looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Exercise, walking Zion every morning, fresh air&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Skiing&amp;nbsp;in powder with friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Socializing &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being busy, resting when needed&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being aware, awake and alive (not drinking alcohol, like caffeine)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Having control of my health (no candy)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Good reputation at work&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being influential, thoughtful and wise&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Good conversation to pass time or contemplate my new big idea&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being productive&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Enjoying nature, being natural&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading vs electronic stimulation&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laughing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Feeling loved, loving others, seeing Zion happy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting up and outside early in the morning&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sun and blue skies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cleanliness and order&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cooking / baking&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;As I turn 33 (oops! I told you) and celebrate this year by acting like&amp;nbsp;the person that I want to be, I see no reason to not start my own happiness project. In the book, Gretchen adds a new theme each month. I already have my first theme (cold turkey on alcohol and sugar) and some ideas for other things that I want to do. One&amp;nbsp;that isn't listed above, because I've never really done it before, is volunteering. I also really like the idea of getting up early in the morning to enjoy the best part of the day and pushing myself to be more consistently&amp;nbsp;industrious at work and life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of what I decide to be the most important activities on my happiness list, I am vowing to myself to stop&amp;nbsp;doing things that I don't like and act like the person that I want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-8057671915350747480?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/8057671915350747480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-happiness-project.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8057671915350747480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8057671915350747480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-happiness-project.html' title='My Happiness Project'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6843228072312896417</id><published>2011-12-13T22:45:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T22:47:53.377-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='match.com profile'/><title type='text'>Most boring Match.com profile I've read in a while</title><content type='html'>Match.com profile 1,001:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;I am a very enthusiastic and ambitious person and I &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value these qualities in others&lt;/span&gt;. I am never bored and always have a lot of projects going on! I &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value my attitude way more than my accomplishments and appreciate that in others&lt;/span&gt;. I have had a very diverse life with a lot of different jobs and I &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value this diversity of experience in others&lt;/span&gt;. I am not materialistc at all and &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value experiences much more than possessions&lt;/span&gt; (well, except when it comes to my turntable). I work in real estate and it suits me well. I am passionate about many things, including outdoor pursuits, music and life experience. I am interested in meeting someone to team up with on adventures, and to hang out with afterwards and laugh about them. I have traveled extensively overseas and I &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value the perspective this has given me on life&lt;/span&gt;. I would like to meet someone who has this experience also, or is at least interested in traveling overseas in the future. I am a very open person and I try to have about 1,000 projects going at once, in the hopes that a few of the good ones pan out :-) I take pride in my friendliness and have great respect for my elders and I value this in others. I also &lt;span style="background-color: yellow;"&gt;value honesty, kindness and the ability to have fun in any situation&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/blockquote&gt;Ok, dude - I understand that you are great and you value the attributes that you possess in others. But how about what you will do for your partner? How about the warm and fuzzies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So not interested.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6843228072312896417?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6843228072312896417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/12/most-boring-matchcom-profile-ive-read.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6843228072312896417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6843228072312896417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/12/most-boring-matchcom-profile-ive-read.html' title='Most boring Match.com profile I&apos;ve read in a while'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-5176499144154817633</id><published>2011-12-12T17:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T17:40:44.587-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abigail porter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skiing at vail'/><title type='text'>Early Season Skiing at Vail</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I had the pleasure of hosting a friend and skiing at Vail for three days in a row. Although it is still early season, the conditions were beautiful - although maybe I'm thinking that because it's my first debut skiing out West since spending the last two seasons in the East - but then again, maybe not. We absolutely tore it up. Here's a &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/33135763" target="_blank"&gt;clip of skiing in Vail&lt;/a&gt;, a lil peek at what we got into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning brought a nice suprise of 9 inches of fresh snow. It seemed like soft swirling of snow the entire day before, the kind that never hits the ground, but somehow it built up over night. &lt;br /&gt;Monday morning we hit the trail early with Zion, my mountain dog. He usually gets to run around without working but since seeing two coyotes at the base of Peak 8 in Breckenridge a couple of weeks ago, he's now learning the meaning of "&lt;a href="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/Zionearnyourturns.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;earn your turns&lt;/a&gt;." Check out the sick harness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to&amp;nbsp;imbed the video and images for you but due to technical errors, I'm sharing links today instead. More coming about skinning up Peak 8 in Breckenridge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-5176499144154817633?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/5176499144154817633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/12/early-season-skiing-at-vail_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5176499144154817633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5176499144154817633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/12/early-season-skiing-at-vail_12.html' title='Early Season Skiing at Vail'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6126189726175599030</id><published>2011-09-20T01:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T01:44:57.499-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother is Home</title><content type='html'>We walk through life with immense power and ability; yet when it is taken from us we&amp;nbsp;are at thee mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=thatothersmaylive.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="That Others May Live,USAF" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/thatothersmaylive.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the loud speaker the stuartess announced 'please be respectful as we honor the fallen soldier who we have transported tonight.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence&amp;nbsp;shot through the hearts of those who watched. His comrades in dress uniform stood by the family as the casket was lowered from the plane and moved across the tarmac.&amp;nbsp;Standing witness, my father wept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sodahead.com/living/what-are-angels-really/question-1854511/?link=ibaf&amp;amp;imgurl=http://www.paranormalknowledge.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/angels.jpg&amp;amp;q=Content" title="SodaHead.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.paranormalknowledge.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/angels.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilots say that they could hear his screams over the radio commands and blade slap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother's legs hung&amp;nbsp;freely&amp;nbsp;out of the helicopter, as did his comrade's. A moment later he was responding to an unexpected rescue - his own&amp;nbsp;comrade's leg was shot in two places from the ground. The mission was aborted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stood at the airport waiting. Waiting to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=angellookingup.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="angel" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/angellookingup.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst the commotion and anticipation&lt;br /&gt;I saw him from afar&lt;br /&gt;and tears fell down my face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6126189726175599030?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6126189726175599030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-brother-is-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6126189726175599030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6126189726175599030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/09/my-brother-is-home.html' title='My Brother is Home'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-7343440587064653297</id><published>2011-07-25T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T09:32:25.247-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irish goodbye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abigail porter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colorado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boston'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jackson hole'/><title type='text'>Good Life</title><content type='html'>My two year return-to-Boston anniversary is coming up and as I think back on the time I've spent here I worry that I used the love and support of my family and friends&amp;nbsp;selfishly to heal from a broken heart. But when I think back on the things that I did, I accomplished much more.&amp;nbsp;I saw my two best friends get married and one have a baby, I trained like a maniac and I have endless memories of the beautiful and historic rolling hills of northwest Boston. I completed an Ironman. I spent lots of time with my family and I've met some really great people. I got a new and more fulfilling job and&amp;nbsp;I moved to Charlestown and became a toonie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to be nostalgic about the wonderful things we've done and seen. Just yesterday I was looking at pictures from Jackson Hole and Colorado and it left me in a sad place. I think about all the opportunities that I've had, where I am today&amp;nbsp;and if I've taken the right path. My dad said yesterday, "The past doesn't matter because it's gone. What matters is what we do today and every day moving forward."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel guilty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go but I feel like if I do I'm giving up on this place. To whom or what? I don't know. Perhaps it's the effort - the chance that I'm giving&amp;nbsp;Boston to become my home - and the realization that I don't want it. I think about what my life would be like if I settle here and my gut tells me that I don't want it. I want true freedom and the opportunity to make decisions without feeling like I have a pre-existing path set forth for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boston is beautiful. But it's hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a walk in the woods yesterday with my mom and Zion, and she said "It seems like you have a heavy blanket on you. I can feel your sadness and I don't want that for you. If you think you're going to be happy in Colorado, then I want you to go. But I don't want you to go if you're going to be sad there too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put effort into being happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's&amp;nbsp;not easy to be happy here. There are road blocks. Attitudes that make it hard to go with the flow and unwind, get loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a lifestyle that I'm seeking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Colorado, the days are longer, the air is clearer, the&amp;nbsp;vibe is open and playful. The skies are blue and the mountains are ever present. Existence is natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to go for the wrong reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is much that I would be leaving behind and it saddens me. But I see peace and&amp;nbsp;freedom&amp;nbsp;ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/jZhQOvvV45w" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-7343440587064653297?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/7343440587064653297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/07/good-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7343440587064653297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7343440587064653297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/07/good-life.html' title='Good Life'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/jZhQOvvV45w/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-8411833229776792073</id><published>2011-06-14T23:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T23:45:21.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rise Above</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been so engaged with the moment that little things like listening to a song you've heard a thousand times strikes you in a deeper&amp;nbsp;way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit&amp;nbsp;here tonight, breathing in life, I'm enchanted by the Stevie Nicks lyrics &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/WM7-PYtXtJM"&gt;playing&lt;/a&gt; from pandora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I took my love, I took it down&lt;br /&gt;Climbed a mountain and I turned around&lt;br /&gt;And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills&lt;br /&gt;Till the landslide brought me down&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?&lt;br /&gt;Can the child within my heart rise above?&lt;br /&gt;Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?&lt;br /&gt;Can I handle the seasons of my life?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, mmm, mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've been afraid of changing&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I've built my life around you&lt;br /&gt;But time makes you bolder&lt;br /&gt;Even children get older and I'm getting older too&lt;/blockquote&gt;I'm thinking about love had, love lost and the love I never pursued. There was one who I met years ago&amp;nbsp;in Jackson Hole who struck me as a Tom Sawyer type - happy, free, a true mountain man. He struck me as the type who I could never catch... always off on another exploit romping along the tops of mountains, catching fish in the streams, happily singing along on his guitar. His joy radiated outward so that everyone could see it. I thought he was perfect, but I never tried to gain his attention. Ironically he's now married and has a child. Not trying and now not knowing what could have been is one of my deepest regrets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Jackson Hole I spent years in Colorado on my own adventure. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. In my mind's eye I see all the beautiful places that I have been but I don't know if I ever truly appreciated them&amp;nbsp;in the&amp;nbsp;moment. Tonight, as I sit here in Boston, I&amp;nbsp;imagine what my reflection really looked liked during that time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my last relationship brought me down, I left that beautiful place and came home to where I grew up. When I&amp;nbsp;imagine my reflection I see myself paddling through the ocean tides&amp;nbsp;and washing about in&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;seasons of my life, seamingly moving yet in the same place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now almost two years later, I'm asking myself can the child within my heart rise above?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, mmm, mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dearly I want to go back to where it's beautiful and where my heart feels free, to the man who I thought was perfect. But I can't. I can't go back to that because it doesn't exist. And I am afraid of changing because Boston now I've built my life around you. But I have asked the child within my heart to rise above; to project light and happiness, to smile at those around me and to say hello to the passerby. I'm practicing and it's my turn to&amp;nbsp;radiate a light that shines on everyone else. Time makes you bolder, and I'm getting stronger too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;So, take my love, take it down&lt;br /&gt;Climb a mountain and turn around &lt;br /&gt;If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills&lt;/blockquote&gt;...then breathe in life around. Listen to that song playing on pandora and enjoy those lyrics that connect you to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? &lt;br /&gt;Can the child within my heart rise above? &lt;br /&gt;Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? &lt;br /&gt;Can I handle the seasons of my life?&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, mmm, mmm&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-8411833229776792073?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/8411833229776792073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/06/rise-above.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8411833229776792073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8411833229776792073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/06/rise-above.html' title='Rise Above'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-3558332170908559858</id><published>2011-05-17T20:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T20:40:21.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Traveler's Woes</title><content type='html'>A single desk is set mechanically in front of the window and neatly set with two glasses glowing with sterile coldness. The ice cube container, small black waste basket and battered green apple accessorize my view. A white glare separates me from the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Protected by the sheer floor to ceiling curtains and clean familiar hotel room, I can’t help but think that I could be anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the middle seat on the airplane I blew my nose, read my book and nervously fiddled with my eyebrows. My legs became jumpy and two trips later to the bathroom I still had an hour and a half left until arrival. I thought, “ugh, is it really worth taking these long layover flights just to use the same airline so that I gain status next year?” I sat in my seat a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A glimpse out the window told me that we were in the North West. Big cratered mountains blanketed with snow, even now in mid May, reminded me how much I missed Jackson Hole. Thinking of the serenity, peace and wild beauty of the land&amp;nbsp;brought me back to&amp;nbsp;a time&amp;nbsp;that was&amp;nbsp;simple and free. &lt;br /&gt;I still think about moving back. What it would be like…if I would enjoy it again. Why do I live in Boston again? Oh yes, my family and friends… would I be able to move away… away from them? What’s better? To live simply or stay near love and support?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shuffling through the terminal I’m lugging my heavy laptop bag and hippie purse filled with magazines and books. Still lethargic from being sick I trudge to the bathroom, to the water fountain… ugh there is no water fountain… buy another water…trudge to the baggage claim… trudge to find a taxi. The Westin Seattle, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to be here. Texting, facebooking, checking email.... anything to stay busy. Looking out the window, the trees look different here - they’re bigger, greener, healthier… ahh, the west. I’m so far away from Boston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m waiting in line again to check in to the hotel. Yes, please, thank you, where’s the workout room? Ok, thank you. Up to my room. I feel like I’m back at the airport lounge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frick it, I’ll just grab my wallet and go outside to get some fresh air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, the sunlight – something we haven’t had in Boston much this spring. I should take this in&amp;nbsp;especially since&amp;nbsp;it’s currently raining in Boston. I walk towards Pike’s Market – an outdoor market similar to Faneuil Hall except more artsy and natural and alive. The shops are bustling with activity and the different types of food lure me to the windows. I bought a pear that never tasted so healthy then found myself at a little outdoor café, eating and listening to a young guitarist belt out his creative ideas on life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t want to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m back in my hotel room...alone… eating my green apple and restless from the day of travel.&amp;nbsp;The nagging&amp;nbsp;feeling work that is yet to be done keeps me nailed in place.&amp;nbsp;Alas there is nothing left to do but prepare for another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-3558332170908559858?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/3558332170908559858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/05/travelers-woes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3558332170908559858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3558332170908559858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/05/travelers-woes.html' title='A Traveler&apos;s Woes'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1746059724192160040</id><published>2011-03-08T11:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T20:28:27.047-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Race Schedule 2011</title><content type='html'>Confirmed races:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 12 – CMSC Masters Swim Race, 1000M at Blodgett &lt;br /&gt;May 15 - Gloucester Half Marathon&lt;br /&gt;July 9 – Black Fly OT&lt;br /&gt;July 17&amp;nbsp;– Fairlee, VT OT&lt;br /&gt;August 27 – D2R2 - The Deerfield Dirt Road Randonnee (72 mi)&lt;br /&gt;Sept 10 – Lobsterman OT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1746059724192160040?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1746059724192160040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/03/race-schedule-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1746059724192160040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1746059724192160040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2011/03/race-schedule-2011.html' title='Race Schedule 2011'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1923667023716487159</id><published>2010-11-24T14:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T15:04:31.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Race Report: I am Ironman</title><content type='html'>I am an Ironman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's three days past Ironman Arizona. If it weren't for how sore my legs are, I might not believe that I actually completed what is known to be&amp;nbsp;one of the most challenging endurance events in the world. In one day, athletes must complete a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. Every course offers its own challenge. On November 21, 2010, Arizona offered chilly 61 degree water, 17 mpg headwinds and 30 mpg gusts, and 14 hours and 37 seconds of effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started at 3am when I woke up too excited to fall back asleep. My dad, brother, and his girlfriend were there ready to be my support crew. We headed over to the race at 5am. The morning of the event is pretty smooth compared to shorter distances because almost everything is setup in the days leading up to the event. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=abbyironmanbike.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Abby Porter Ironman Arizona" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/abbyironmanbike.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had already checked in, gotten body marked, racked my bike, and dropped off my transition bags. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=abbyironmanbags.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Abby Porter Ironman Arizona bag setup" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/abbyironmanbags.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I had to do was check for the essentials which for the bike are&amp;nbsp;bike shoes, helmet, sunglasses, socks; and&amp;nbsp;for the run: sneakers, socks, aquafor, hat. Otherwise, I dropped off my special needs bags, pumped up my bike tires, went to the bathroom, and had everything dialed in by 5:30am which gave me ample time to put on my wetsuit and go to the bathroom again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The swim was&amp;nbsp;a water start which meant that everyone had to jump into the water around 6:50am, swim up to the starting line, and tread water until the gun went off.&amp;nbsp;Athletes lined up on the dock and jumped into the water like navy seals. My body was shaking and my teeth were chattering from the nerves but I had a huge smile on my face. The day had finally arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;cold water, dim sky, and excitement from the athletes and fans was thrilling. From the water I could look up at the bridge overhead at the roaring fans. Athletes were jockeying for position along the starting line, careful not to line up too far upfront nor too far back. My heart rate was well over 110. The announcer roared - who's going to be an Ironman today!? And everyone in the crowd went bananas. Then he said - and&amp;nbsp;let's hear it for your friends and family who support you and without them this wouldn't be possible. And everyone in the water roared back. Boom! The cannon went off and away we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan was to take it easy for the swim, stay calm, and just swim. With everyone starting at once it was more chaotic than any other tri I've done, although not intolerable. There was constant jostling and people bumping into each other. I was wary to not get kicked in&amp;nbsp;the face or get my fingers broken. If there was a huge guy in front of me kicking like a maniac then I&amp;nbsp;would&amp;nbsp;take a stroke to the right or hang back for a second to get a better space. A few times the water opened up and I got into a nice&amp;nbsp;rhythm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For spotting purposes, the swim was&amp;nbsp;1600m out past the next bridge where there was a turn buoy and a little further coming back. The first turn buoy was crazy since everyone had to turn at the same place.&amp;nbsp;Everyone was&amp;nbsp;more upright and reaching out to move forward rather than horizontal and swimming. A couple meters past the buoy I accelerated to get out of the craziness. There was one more turn buoy and already I&amp;nbsp;was heading back. It felt great to be half way done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have one small snafu on the swim which was that my muscles in my right hand went numb, such that I couldn't cup my hand for my pull. I tried to squeeze my hand into a fist on my recovery stroke but it didn't help. It didn't bother me though. I was feeling strong and happy. Overall, the swim went by very quickly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tons of volunteers ready to help&amp;nbsp;people out of the water. I felt amphibian crawling up the steps to get out of the water - not quite ready to be upright. The shoot between the swim and T1 was packed with fans. I&amp;nbsp;beamed up at&amp;nbsp;my support crew, glanced up at my time, saw 1:18, and ran into T1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transition took forever. My hands were more numb then I thought and it took me a while to get my gear on. Coming out of T1 I was afraid that I wasn't going to have the coordination to click into my bike. Off I went though. My body was still pumping hard from the swim and already I was going 22 mph on the bike. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate a powerbar, downed half a gatorade, and went aero. I wasn't sure how hard I should push and I was constantly checking myself to make sure I wasn't pushing too hard or too little. The first loop went by quickly. Typically on the bike course it's slower on the way out and faster on the way back due to the small incline. But for race day, the wind was in our face on the way back and it grew stormier as the ride went on. By the last loop, it took me&amp;nbsp;1 hour to get out and 1.5 hours to get back. The report is that there were 30 mpg wind gusts and a steady 17 mph headwind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About half way through the bike I started to feel a bit nauseous. I wasn't sure if it was because I was pushing too hard&amp;nbsp;or if it was from the nasty gel I just ate. Regardless, a gal who was passing me saved me. She asked - how are you doing? My reply was - I think I'm starting to feel it. She said - don't fight the wind, it's not worth it. From there I decided she was right and I pulled back on my effort and just spun for the last loop. My goal was to flush out the toxins and get my head on straight for the run. I was starting to think, woa, this is hard. A fan on the side of the road held a sign that read:&amp;nbsp;"it's not called an easy man," and I could second that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 6:58 hour bike ride felt more like a 3.5 hour ride, but not in the amount of effort and concentration that it took to pedal through it.&amp;nbsp;For nutrition I had 2.5 chocolate powerbars, one hammer espresso gel, a banana (they cut them up into thirds), an apple gel (disgusting), 2 red gatorades, 2 ironman perform drinks (not good), 4 waters, and 1 pack of powerbar cola candies. Towards the end of the bike I couldn't take in any more syrupy stuff and the banana was all I could stomach. I knew I needed more calories but I decided to wait until the run where there would be&amp;nbsp;real food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming off the bike&amp;nbsp;was like a check mark - check, that's&amp;nbsp;done, on&amp;nbsp;to the marathon. I took it slow again in transition but not because I could go any faster. The volunteers were amazingly helpful. The gal in the tent got everything ready for me, asked me if I needed this or that, and got me out the door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had finished my bike by 3:30pm which was within my goal time.&amp;nbsp;My nausea had subsided and I was feeling pretty good as a started my run. I ran at a pace&amp;nbsp;that I could sustain for the whole day.&amp;nbsp;At the first station&amp;nbsp;I ate a banana and a cookie&amp;nbsp;thought, oh my gosh that tastes so good. A mile later I realized how hungry I was and I&amp;nbsp;ate a banana, pretzels, grapes, a cookie, coke, and water. That food made me so happy. The next high point was seeing my fans at the end of the first loop. They were standing by the transition area among tons of screaming fans. Seeing them along with the excitement, the beautiful weather, and the fact that I felt good made me so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=abbyironman.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Abby Porter Ironman Arizona" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/abbyironman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was strong through the first 20 miles. I ran the whole way except through the aid stations where I carefully chose what to eat or drink to continue to fuel myself without overdoing it and&amp;nbsp;throwing up. I saw Dary at mile 20 or 22 and said to him - I'm just trying to keep my shit together. He said - yea - keep your shit together. Every step you take you're getting closer to the finish line. For the next few miles I said over and over in my head - keep your shit together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those 4-6 miles were pretty damn hard. I was a little dizzy, feeling a little fricked up, my stomach was off, my legs were spent. I knew that if I let up on my concentration for even one second that I could pass out randomly. I would walk a couple hundred yards, then run three quarters of a mile, then walk for 50 yards, then run half a mile, then run through the aid stations instead of walking through them to keep momentum, then crash and walk for 30 yards, then shuffle forward. My run was only a hair faster than a walk. Somehow I made it back to last stretch and ran for the last mile and a half into the finish line. I thought about 55 times in my head, you did all three laps, right? The last thing I wanted to hear when coming into the finish was - Abigail Porter, you have one more lap! In the back of my head I knew I&amp;nbsp;had completed all three, but I was in disbelief that I was almost done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rounded the corner into the finish, and people were shouting - you did it! You are an Ironman! I picked up my speed a little and straightened my back to not look so wasted crossing the line. I came into the finishing shoot and gave high fives to the fans. I thought I was going to be more emotional crossing the finish line but the moment was a little different than I had imagined it to be. The day was no longer&amp;nbsp;something I was dreaming about anymore, it was real and I had&amp;nbsp;put in the work to complete the it.&amp;nbsp;I was happy&amp;nbsp;and my mind was blank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have catchers standing there to make sure you don't fall over. My helper&amp;nbsp;gave me a blanket and talked to me. She told me I had accomplished something really great and that it was amazing. She talked to me as if&amp;nbsp;a doctor would to make sure I stayed conscious. I was so exhausted that I could only&amp;nbsp;respond to her questions with one word answers. Her last question was, how long did you train for this? I responded, since January. As I walked out of the finishing shoot, that's when I cried. I cried for the sacrifice, for the year, for the journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave my brother and my dad a big hug, watched a couple of finishers, and held on to their arms to not fall over. We headed back to the hotel. I passed out&amp;nbsp;while my team went to get me some food. We ate, talked about the event, and passed out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely I woke up again at 5:23am feeling rested, or at least better than I felt the night before. I was pretty&amp;nbsp;run down though and had cold symptoms. It wasn't until Monday night that I got a really good night of sleep. Thank god for my support crew to help me do basic things. They got my bags, dropped off my bike for transport, got me coffee. I truly couldn't have gotten home without them.&amp;nbsp;For Monday and Tuesday I couldn't walk up or down the stairs without the hand railing and sitting down and getting up was painfully impossible. Now, three days after the event I can walk up and down the stairs but my legs are wobbly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;hardest part about the day was by far the amount of focus that it took to complete the event. I was constantly thinking about my pacing, what I was eating or drinking, about moving forward, talking myself through every step, and trying not to throw up or pass out. The nutrition is tough because I was a little sick throughout the entire day. Either nauseous or my stomach was off, or I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. The physical difficulty&amp;nbsp;is obviously very hard - but it's not worth even thinking about it&amp;nbsp;since at that point, I was&amp;nbsp;already doing the race and&amp;nbsp;I had put in the work&amp;nbsp;to get me through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people have asked - how do I feel and will I do it again. The answer is - I've never been this sore in my life but I feel good. My muscles are wrecked from my skin all the way down to my bones. In order to do another Ironman I would want to get stronger on the bike and build more&amp;nbsp;strength in my legs. This next year I want to do fun stuff like trail running, long power climbs like Kangamangus in NH, sprinting... generally more power output events to build muscle. Oh - and did I mention - I want to&amp;nbsp;have fun :-) I'll probably do a 70.3 next summer and any other event that looks fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would recommend doing an Ironman to anyone who is willing to put in the time to train for it. In my mind I feel more prepared for&amp;nbsp;everything else that I want to do. It's like I've passed through to the other side and&amp;nbsp;I'm ready to live my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1923667023716487159?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1923667023716487159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/race-report-i-am-ironman.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1923667023716487159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1923667023716487159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/race-report-i-am-ironman.html' title='Race Report: I am Ironman'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-2344929796128955235</id><published>2010-11-13T17:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T17:05:13.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The One Thing</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago I met up with a gal who was about to tackle Ironman Florida. As we rode through Harvard on that chilly October day, we talked about our training, the ups and downs, how excited we were to actually do our races, and she said to me - figure out what your "one thing is"... the one reason why you are doing an Ironman.&amp;nbsp;When times get tough in your race, you need to remember&amp;nbsp;what the one reason is that you are doing this race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.endurancenation.us/blog/2010/06/08/four-keys-of-ironman-execution-2010-edition/"&gt;thinking&lt;/a&gt; behind this statement is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;During the course of your race day, expect your body to have a conversation with your mind&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look, Mind, you’ve had me out here slogging away for 132 miles. This is really starting to get old and very painful. You need to give me a good reason to keep going forward. If you don’t have one, I’m gonna slow down and you can’t stop me!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Before the race ask yourself “Why am I doing Ironman?”&lt;/strong&gt; Your goal here is to determine what is the One Thing that put you in this race. To finish in the daylight with a smile on your face? To run a 4:10? To honor your family or a loved one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whatever your One Thing is, be absolutely clear and rehearse your mind/body debate beforehand. Be warned: your body can be a helluva good negotiator at mile 18, especially if your mind hasn’t prepared its rebuttal arguments beforehand.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That same day was supposed to be my longest bike&amp;nbsp;day.&amp;nbsp;It was also the end of October and only high 30s in the early morning. I&amp;nbsp;agreed to start a little later in the morning just to let it warm up a bit. With a couple of friends, we met up at 10am and took a nice ride through Harvard&amp;nbsp;stopping at the General Store and again at a farm for some apple crisp. Despite the good company, nice scenery, and cool but sunny day, internally I was battling extreme burnout. By the time the group got back to our starting point&amp;nbsp;it was already 2pm and&amp;nbsp;I had only gone 40 miles on what was supposed to be a 90-100 mile bike day.&amp;nbsp;A quick calculation told me that I wouldn't be done until 7pm if I finished the entire workout. As I rode off alone, the sun was getting&amp;nbsp;lower such&amp;nbsp;that it would be hard for cars to see me. I was jealous that the others were done and annoyed that I had to keep going. As I thought more and more about it,&amp;nbsp;I got angrier and angrier. I pedaled over Strawberry Hill, took my right on&amp;nbsp;Pope Road, and in just the time that it took me to reach&amp;nbsp;Acton Road I was so pissed off that I was ready to explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart was pounding, my breath was heavy, and my mind was harried. I was so worked up that I could have had a temper tantrum right there on the side of the road. But, I was 30 miles away from home and it still would be faster for me to bike home then wait for someone to come pick me up. I didn't have much choice but to go on. So I thought to myself - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I cold? No. &lt;br /&gt;Are my legs sore? No. &lt;br /&gt;Is the weather ok? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If all of these things were ok, then I must go on. So I said to myself -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;Think positive thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This went on for 5-10 minutes until my frenzy&amp;nbsp;calmed, my breathing eased, and my angry thoughts subsided. I started to think positive thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about blue skies and whispy clouds.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about my life.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about what would make me happy. &lt;br /&gt;I thought about moving to Jackson Hole, Wyoming and hiking the pass with Zion every day. &lt;br /&gt;I wondered what it would be like to drop everything that&amp;nbsp;I'm doing... and start over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held on to these thoughts and I navigated wisely as the sun went sideways. I got back to my car safely and although I didn't complete the 90 miles that I was hoping for, I learned something about positive thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past few weeks, I thought that my mantra would be "think positive thoughts, think positive thoughts, think positive thoughts." But those words don't really satisfy the question of - Why? Why did I choose to do an Ironman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the one thing - the one reason why I chose to do an Ironman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One year ago I moved back to Boston from my home in Colorado. When I came home, to the place where I grew up and where my old friends and family resign, I was happy to be among loved ones. But, I was also reeling from a recent break up and my mind and body was in despair. I wanted to be healthy, happy, and whole again. I knew that if I set a challenge for myself that was so difficult, so hard that I would have no choice but to make better decisions, to exercise, get out and meet new people, and explore my new world, that&amp;nbsp;it would be my reason to regain myself, my independence, and my happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In thinking about this, my training has become my right of passage.&amp;nbsp;On race day, my pain will be transformed from etheral to physical. As the saying goes - I would rather&amp;nbsp;have a broken bone than a broken heart. When I step up to the starting line on November 21st, my&amp;nbsp;suffering will have come full circle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's the answer? Why did I choose to do an Ironman? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To regain myself, my independence, my strength. To heal my broken heart. To find myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing it for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-2344929796128955235?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/2344929796128955235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-thing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/2344929796128955235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/2344929796128955235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/one-thing.html' title='The One Thing'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-8894469742780048090</id><published>2010-11-01T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T20:22:59.191-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrambled Eggs and Ironman Toast</title><content type='html'>My mind has been scrambled eggs for the past couple of weeks. My&amp;nbsp;emotions were in flux, my body was tired, and my mental fortitude felt like it was giving way. I was coming into my final weeks of working out and the longest weekends of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to have nightmares about the event, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if I have done enough. I thought back on the last couple of months to recap where I have been and to double check with myself on what I've been doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August was the finale of the Sprint racing season and Catherine and I battled it out at Gloucester.&amp;nbsp;At the race, I&amp;nbsp;came out of the water first but she caught me faster than I thought she would and we left the&amp;nbsp;transition together.&amp;nbsp;Our first few biking miles we were neck and neck but after the course turnaround she took me by more than 2 minutes off the bike.&amp;nbsp;My goal was to keep an even pace and go a little faster than her on the run. I could see the gap between us closing on the second and third laps, but&amp;nbsp;the final turn came sooner than I expected. As we rounded the bend we both laid it out flat to the line. The gap was too much once we both started sprinting and she beat me by 4 seconds. Kelsey Abbott took first, Cath took second, and I took third in our age group. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look closely, you can see me in my signature magenta tri suit to the right of Cath battling it out to close the gap: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=cathandabbyatgloucester.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Gloucester Sprint Triathlon 2010,Abby Porter,Catherine Toupence" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/cathandabbyatgloucester.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motivated to compete&amp;nbsp;again with&amp;nbsp;Kelsey and Cath I decided to sign up for Pumpkinman at the last minute.&amp;nbsp;The water temperature was perfect but I&amp;nbsp;could tell that I had been swimming at the BSC on my own more than I had been with Cambridge Masters. I held a nice pace for the bike and I&amp;nbsp;took it easy for the run, finishing 50 minutes faster than my first 70.3 at 6:04 hrs. The most notable&amp;nbsp;part of the event was that when I finished I had no lactic acid burn and my legs felt fine. My quads were sore for a couple of days, but I was happy about how I felt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next weekend I rode with the Rippers up in NH across our finest notches including Kinsman, Kangamangus, Bear, Crawford, and Franconia Notch. The ride was 100 miles, 8000 feet of vertical, and a can of whoop ass. I bonked at 80 miles on Crawford Notch but I finished the ride with everyone else and read 100 miles on my odometer. The next few weekends were followed&amp;nbsp;by long rides up to&amp;nbsp;Harvard of&amp;nbsp;70 and 80 miles on Saturday and long runs on Sunday. On Oct 9th I rode for 83 miles and ran a PR 1/2 marathon the next day, dropping my 13.1 time by 11 minutes to 1:56. Those back to back long weekends fried&amp;nbsp;my legs and it took a good week to recover. But, I didn't have the time. The next Saturday I ran 15 miles (1:20 run, 1:15 ride, 1:20 run) and rode 45 miles the next day. By this point, I bonked mentally and emotionally. With my biggest scheduled weekend to come and&amp;nbsp;only 5 weeks out from the event, I was mentally and emotionally overwhelmed, exhausted, and done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on an apple pie bender and made at least 12 pies in the course of a couple of weeks. Look closely to see the bike: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=ripperpie-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Ripper Pie" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/ripperpie-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that in 9 months I hadn't rested for one day. The days that I&amp;nbsp;have taken&amp;nbsp;off of have been during the work week, which means I'm still working,&amp;nbsp;and the weekend days have been my longest workouts.&amp;nbsp;Needless to say, I had my own little melt down and took a few days off of work to rest. During this time, I really rested. I slept, I baked, and I walked Zion. I completely let down and let myself relax&amp;nbsp;without anxiety or worry that I wasn't working out. That weekend I struggled but I did ride 5:25 hrs on Saturday and ran for 2:20&amp;nbsp;hrs on Sunday. That night marked the beginning of my taper. I was elated and my mindset started to look up. This past weekend felt like&amp;nbsp;a breeze with only 3:30 hrs on the bike followed by&amp;nbsp;a 45 min run on Saturday,&amp;nbsp;with Sunday off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look back, there is certainly more that I could have done, but I am happy with the long weekends that I've had and my overall consistency. I'm officially 21 days until the race and every day I'm getting more and more excited. I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-8894469742780048090?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/8894469742780048090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/scrambled-eggs-and-ironman-toast.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8894469742780048090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8894469742780048090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/11/scrambled-eggs-and-ironman-toast.html' title='Scrambled Eggs and Ironman Toast'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-2601419918828105647</id><published>2010-07-18T23:24:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T12:59:30.457-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Falmouth Sprint'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love affairs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ironman training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triathlon racing'/><title type='text'>feel good currents</title><content type='html'>There are so many things that I'd like to share with you on this Sunday evening. First - a quick catch up on workouts, races, and training, and then perhaps some 'here and now' dating wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gia and I ran a half marathon a few weeks ago in 2:08. Our plan was to go out easy for the first 8 and pick it up to the finish. We definitely accomplished that with a&amp;nbsp;negative split&amp;nbsp;of something like 8 minutes (first 6 vs second 6). I definitely think that if I&amp;nbsp;go all out on&amp;nbsp;my next one then I can shave a ton of time off. I left that race feeling overconfident only to wake up to very sore legs the next day. I was almost bewildered because I felt so good that I didn't understand why I was sore. I got hit with a stomach bug the next week, I think from swallowing water at Walden, and in general I felt very slow for the following two weeks. Mentally I also knew that my build program was fast approaching and I think that I subconsciously wanted to take it easy before moving forward with such a big commitment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week kicked off the beginning of my 19 week program until IM AZ. I was overwhelmed going into it but now that I've finished one week I feel so much better about the rest. I didn't follow the program to a T but pretty darn close and here's a snapshot of the week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday 1700 meter&amp;nbsp;swim and core workout/lifting&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday 1:20 hard ride w hills followed by a 25 min run &lt;br /&gt;Wednesday 30 min spin 30 min run&lt;br /&gt;Thursday 1 hr zone recovery and 40 min run w hill bounding; 35 min run and core workout/lifting&lt;br /&gt;Friday 3000 yards swim&lt;br /&gt;Saturday 25 mile&amp;nbsp;zone 2&amp;nbsp;ride&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Race - Falmouth Sprint &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally, hard workouts are followed by&amp;nbsp;active recovery work which&amp;nbsp;are in a low heart rate zone. Many of&amp;nbsp;the workouts are just under where you feel&amp;nbsp;breathless and I'm&amp;nbsp;strong enough that it feels&amp;nbsp;like I'm bouncing along and floating on the pavement, breathing but not winded, and&amp;nbsp;sweating&amp;nbsp;but able to&amp;nbsp;enjoy the feeling of the dewy air on&amp;nbsp;my skin. The other morning I had a steady flow of feel good chemicals pulsing through my body and it&amp;nbsp;felt pretty amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I&amp;nbsp;raced in the Falmouth Sprint. It was about 1/3rd mi swim, 10 mi bike, 3.1 mi run. I finished in 1:02 and 3rd&amp;nbsp; in my AG. I thought that the first two times that I placed in my age group were a fluke so I was pretty pumped to repeat a top finish.&amp;nbsp;Two things that&amp;nbsp;I took from the last couple of races that I think helped me here&amp;nbsp;were transition and pulling on the bike. When I looked at Kelsey Abbott's&amp;nbsp;times I tried to figure out how I could cut time to get closer to her. I thought that if I could cut a minute on both transitions and some time on each event, then I would get closer right there. Today I hooked up my sneaks with the pull laces and when I got to transition all I had to do was pull them on like slippers. The second, which was reinforced&amp;nbsp;by advice given from Olga on yesterday's ride, is to pull up with my feet instead of only pushing down on the pedal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On every hill and throughout the race I made a conscious effort to pull. About three miles into the race another girl in my age group passed me. I knew that I couldn't let her beat me because that could be the difference between placing, and not ranking at all. We stayed neck and neck through the ride, each passing each other in different spots. In my head I thought, I bet I can run faster than her, and I just need to get a better transition to catch up. When we can into T2 she was only 20 feet ahead of me. On went my slipper sneaks&amp;nbsp;and I was a step ahead of her. And, believe me... I knew it because I could hear her breathing down my back for the entire run. I kept saying to myself, take it easy, run your own race, calm down your breathing. The run was an out and back and when we got to the cone to turn around I stepped around the cone and sprinted out about 5 feet to put some distance between me and her. I didn't hear her on my back after that&amp;nbsp;but I knew she was still there. This all sounds merry but I was not feeling strong for the run today. It was nearing 90 degrees by 8:30am and I had to constantly tell myself on the way back "focus, focus" and to run my own race. The finish was through the sandy beach and my opponent came in about 5-10 seconds behind me. I turned back and gave her a high five thanking her for pacing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto the dating wisdom... I think this topic will have to take shape over the course of the summer or&amp;nbsp;most likely longer but I did find some inspiration today on the topic in the form of music and from a recent experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an excerpt from Alicia Key's new song un-thinkable (I'm ready)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You give me a feeling that I never felt before &lt;br /&gt;And I deserve it, I think I deserve it &lt;br /&gt;It's becoming something that's impossible to ignore &lt;br /&gt;And I can't take it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering maybe &lt;br /&gt;Could I make you&amp;nbsp;a (my)&amp;nbsp;baby &lt;br /&gt;If we do the unthinkable would it make us look crazy &lt;br /&gt;Or would it be so beautiful either way I'm sayin' &lt;br /&gt;If you ask me I'm ready &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slash the "my" and replace with "a" and this&amp;nbsp;topic&amp;nbsp;becomes such a point of sadness for my generation. I think about all of my beautiful and wonderful girlfriends who are ready to make a baby. We see the average age of marriage pushing from the 20s into our late 30s and movies that highlight the distress of having a family.&amp;nbsp;We hear&amp;nbsp;"man fear" that having a wife and kids will change a man's whole way of life to the point that he'll be unhappy forever. Sex will never be the same and committing to a white picket fence will be his demise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is still the same though. Men love women and women love men. So, why is there such a rift in our priorities?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your eyes, and listen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhuGQUZJot8"&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HhuGQUZJot8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HhuGQUZJot8&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next take away&amp;nbsp;is -&amp;nbsp;say how you feel when it counts.&amp;nbsp;As time passes&amp;nbsp;we&amp;nbsp;have to make decisions about who we're going to spend time with. If having a tough conversation leads to learning something unfavorable or better yet, favorable about the person we're with, then it's better to have the conversation sooner rather than later. If the outcome is going to be the same then have the cahones to speak up when it counts and when you can do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and by the way, this is me telling myself to act on my own advice. My strategy has always been to learn from many sources, digest the thoughts and ideas, and take what works best for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-2601419918828105647?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/2601419918828105647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/07/feel-good-currents.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/2601419918828105647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/2601419918828105647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/07/feel-good-currents.html' title='feel good currents'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-8767252388826486715</id><published>2010-06-16T22:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T13:23:49.790-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abigail porter blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pirate Triathlon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triathlon racing'/><title type='text'>Pirate Tri, Arrrgh!</title><content type='html'>Luckily Kelsey Abbott in my age group was so fast that she ranked in the top three woman overall. That bumped me up to place third in my age group this past weekend at the Pirate Tri at Lake Sebago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race was a sprint, 1/3rd mile swim, 14 mile bike ride, and 3 mile run. After placing in the Saratoga race I went into this event with a different mindset. I thought, hmm, maybe I can place again. Since this was my first event of the season that required a wetsuit, I purposefully took my time putting it on. Slowly and carefully I inched every buckle&amp;nbsp;of the suit over my body,&amp;nbsp;being mindful&amp;nbsp;not rip it. The gal next to me promised to be my moral support since putting on a wetsuit is demoralizing to the likes of&amp;nbsp;jeans shopping. Visualize putting on your tightest clothes right after you've gotten out of the shower and finding glue on the insides. The experience wasn't as bad as usual though. Boom, it was on! I turned to the gal who was&amp;nbsp;helping me, gave her the&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2482/3966569138_54f8741e7e.jpg"&gt;thank you, finger&amp;nbsp;pointed at the camera look&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;nbsp;and darted into the water.&amp;nbsp;I wanted to get right in to acclimate to the temperature. I'm not big on doing too much of a warm up but I wanted to go out harder than usual for the race.&amp;nbsp;I probably swam 200 yards to&amp;nbsp;get my breathing up,&amp;nbsp;felt the 64 degree water under my wetsuit and on my neck and head, and got water in my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As everyone gathered by the start, I looked around and&amp;nbsp;sized up the other girls. Some people hadn't even gotten in the water to warm up, some girls didn't wear a wetsuit, some girls wore suits that were too big, and then there were the girls who you knew would kick butt. Generally, I was impressed with the level of fitness that&amp;nbsp;people seemed to have and, on a&amp;nbsp;side note,&amp;nbsp;there were a lot of hot guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wave went second, just after the 30-39 year old men. I usually line up to the far outside of the pack so that I have plenty of room, but this time&amp;nbsp;I decided - screw it. I got right up front and in the middle. I figured, if a girl wants to pass me, she'll have to work to get around me. We took off and I did my best to keep my breathing under control. Part way out to the bouy I rolled over on my back. My backstroke is pretty strong and&amp;nbsp;in the open water I don't think it makes that big of a difference if I'm swimming freestyle or backstroke speedwise. I usually roll over and do both during the race since it's easier to breathe on your back. I was thinking about my swim coach during the race and realized why we do all those stupid sprint sets and how I should really try to stick to the set better during practice and not slack. In the midst of this, I was looking around to see where I was in relation to the other girls but the men were wearing the same color swim caps as we were, so I really couldn't tell how I was doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I came out of T1 and up the first hill, my buddy waved to me and said, see, I knew you would pass me! I didn't know it at the time, but he had a terrible transition and his derailleur later crapped out on him during the ride. But still, passing him right out of the transition and knowing that he is a stronger swimmer than me and that he had a 30 second&amp;nbsp;lead&amp;nbsp;at the start,&amp;nbsp;still felt good. I thought, cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=piratetribike2.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Abby Porter Pirate Tri" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/piratetribike2.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off I was on the bike. Usually I get smoked on the bike and people pass me like crazy. This was a short ride, only 14 miles, and it didn't seem like many people were passing me. There were two women that went by but they weren't in my age group. I didn't know where I was in relation to the other girls in my AG, but I thought that the faster girls must have already beaten me out of the water. As I would later find out, I was 4th out of the water in my age group so there were only a few girls ahead of me on the course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were a couple of hills and I tried to push it as hard as I could. I re-passed a couple of the ladies who had passed me and overall my bike pace average was 17.4. Coming into&amp;nbsp;transition it seemed like the fans were on top of me, which was awesome. I need to get the pull shoe laces to speed up my run transition, but still my T2&amp;nbsp;was 1:13, which isn't too bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After seeing my splits from the Saratoga Duathlon my plan was to run as hard as I could. I pushed it right out of the gate and subsequently my&amp;nbsp;breathing was sky high. I didn't care though. I pushed it past the mile marker then got a little disoriented looking for the turnaround. I thought it was an out and back run course, but it turned out to be a lollipop. By the time I knew where I was again I had finished the second mile. I'm pretty sure that the second mile was slow since I was hesitantly looking for the turnaround, but regardless&amp;nbsp;I gunned it for the last mile back. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=run.png" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Abby Porter Pirate Tri" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/run.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abigail PORTER 31 Winchester MA &lt;br /&gt;3rd place AG&lt;br /&gt;Swim Rank 4, time 9:44 &lt;br /&gt;T1 2:03 &lt;br /&gt;Bike Rank 5, time&amp;nbsp;48:11, ave speed 17.4 &lt;br /&gt;T2 1:13 &lt;br /&gt;Run Rank 4, time&amp;nbsp;23:11, ave mpg&amp;nbsp;7:44&lt;br /&gt;Total Time&amp;nbsp;1:24:20.3 &lt;br /&gt;(rank by age group)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Female Overall Results:&lt;br /&gt;16th out of 159 women, 12th out of the water, 34th on the bike, and 20th on the run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy and I got a pirate mug. I'm like a little kid showing off a trophy. Here it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=piratemug.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Pirate Tri Mug" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/piratemug.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, check out this IronKid running her race with her swim cap still on. Absolutely awesome! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=kidwithswimcap.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="pirate tri" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/kidwithswimcap.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-8767252388826486715?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/8767252388826486715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/06/pirate-tri-arrrgh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8767252388826486715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8767252388826486715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/06/pirate-tri-arrrgh.html' title='Pirate Tri, Arrrgh!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-5456833142150772042</id><published>2010-05-31T21:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T21:02:39.981-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Saratoga</title><content type='html'>I'm happy to report that I placed second in my age group this past weekend in the &lt;a href="http://www.coolrunning.com/results/10/ny/May30_Sarato_set4.shtml"&gt;Saratoga Lions Duathlon&lt;/a&gt;. Boy, is it good to race on the East Coast! :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Results:&lt;br /&gt;5k Run 24:56, avg HR 173, pace 8:02 min mile&lt;br /&gt;T1 1:10 &lt;br /&gt;20 mi Bike 1:15:06, avg HR 156&lt;br /&gt;T2 1:24 &lt;br /&gt;5k Run 25:32, avg HR 173, pace: 8:13 min mile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;participated in&amp;nbsp;this race just for fun. The transition area is around the corner from our house in Saratoga. It was fun to be able to sign up for the race last minute and be in good enough shape to compete and place in it. I've never really placed for races before this year and I owe a lot of that to racing on the East Coast versus in Boulder where most of the people in my age group are borderline pro athletes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I'm pumped that my run pace was an 8 min mile. That is about a minute better per mile than my race pace last year at the Bolder Boulder. And, I'm glad that my second 5k pace was very close to the first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been great lately. Training has felt so good, my fitness is improving, and I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago I found myself in an interesting spot. I had about a month and a half or so of hard training under my belt. The problem was, I was exhausted. It was a Monday and I found myself falling asleep on the train on the way into work. My head bobbed with exhaustion and&amp;nbsp;my appetite was insatiable.&amp;nbsp;I was nearly crying on the way home because I was so tired and hungry. I was feeling guilty for eating so much when my office mate had probably a quarter of what I had all day long. After&amp;nbsp;placing a&amp;nbsp;phone call to a friend, I was re-assured that I didn't have to feel guilty about eating so much. With that, I went home and ate a real meal and was in bed by 8. The next day, I took the day off and went to bed again at 8. It was so early that it was still light out when I went to bed! Two days later, I arose from the dead as stiff as a board. I was so sluggish but I forced myself to go for a run with Zion. The run was absolutely pathetic. Zion was looking back at me like - when are you gonna start to run? Another day passed, and I felt a little more&amp;nbsp;normal, and by the third day I had&amp;nbsp;some energy back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week I met with my Ironman mentor and I shared with him how I was feeling - tired, hungry, afraid to take a day off. He assured me that I needed to take it easy. His advice was - take a week off and if you're feeling&amp;nbsp;like you're hungry all the time,&amp;nbsp;then eat more protein and fat. That week and the following week I took it much easier on the workouts. I was doing one a days rather than two and three workouts. Now, about three weeks later, I feel amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like I can report any consistent volumes since I'm not following my set workout plan yet. But, I am consistently swimming twice a week for 50 min to an hour; I've been running a lot lately because&amp;nbsp;I had to travel with work&amp;nbsp;and it was about all I could do, and I've been biking probably two or three times a week for&amp;nbsp;about 30-50 miles. I also do two core strength workouts in the gym per week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazingly, I'm only a month away from starting my build training. The sound&amp;nbsp;of that is super scary. It means a lot more discipline and a ticking clock until the race. I am however feeling on track for the program. I'm wondering if I should try to squeeze in a 70.3 before the race - mostly because I have so much energy to burn that it might be fun and a good way to test my race day nutrition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, I'm feeling amazing. I can see muscles in my body, my fat percentage is definitely less, and my disposition equals happy. I can't even begin to contemplate the difference in how I feel now versus how I felt 6 months ago. Working out consistently, a healthy diet, and a healed heart....that's where I'm at and I couldn't be happier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-5456833142150772042?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/5456833142150772042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-saratoga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5456833142150772042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5456833142150772042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-saratoga.html' title='Happy Saratoga'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-3700052294662327411</id><published>2010-05-13T10:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T15:28:29.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sterling Classic</title><content type='html'>After reading my friend Rich's &lt;a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&amp;amp;ik=b7f10b1bf6&amp;amp;view=att&amp;amp;th=1288f647e39677d0&amp;amp;attid=0.1&amp;amp;disp=vah&amp;amp;zw"&gt;race report&lt;/a&gt; from the Sterling Classic road race, I now have&amp;nbsp;the courage to write mine.&amp;nbsp;Rich is a strong cyclist who I ride with in the mornings and he's always leading the pack up the hills. So, it was comforting to read that he absolutely hated the race too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning started at 6am when I got woken up by my alarm clock and the sound of rain crashing against the pavement. I thought, ugh, are they really going to have this race in the rain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I show up at the race hoping that not all of the women would show but I soon realized that only the beefiest and toughest girls showed up. This didn't help my ego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I struggled with what to wear since&amp;nbsp;it was off an on raining and mid 40 degrees. I settled on capri length pants, a&amp;nbsp;shirt, arm warmers,&amp;nbsp;gloves, and my light neon jacket. The race started with a neutral start - basically rolling at 10-15 mph until the start line which was on top of a steep hill. The girls saw that hill and they were on top of it with lightening speed and I had already been dropped.&amp;nbsp;I watched them ride away and&amp;nbsp;I was alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain was picking up and I was getting really frustrated that I didn't have clear sunglasses. My dark glasses were all I had and it was as if they were fogging up on the inside of the lenses. I&amp;nbsp;wiped them, licked them, and shook them but nothing would un-fog them. All the while rain and dirt was hurtling into my eyes and I was getting so pissed that I&amp;nbsp;considered thowing the sunglasses&amp;nbsp;into the woods. It was the combination of getting dropped in a second, getting sprayed in the face with rain and dirt,&amp;nbsp;and generally being on edge from riding in the pouring rain that made me want to quit right there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned the corner for the second half of the loop and found that it was on an off-ramp to a highway. I'm a safety freak and this really pissed me off. We were in the middle of farm-land Massachusetts and they couldn't find a better option than having us ride on the off-ramp to a highway? I was so irritated at this point but kept peddling through the "finish line" to start on my next loop. People were there cheering me up the hill and my mood lighted enough to keep going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=sterlingclassic.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Sterling Classic road race 2010,Sterling Classic road race 2010" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/sterlingclassic.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my second loop I had to to talk myself down. I said to myself - you're doing this for the experience, it's crappy weather but you didn't expect to win nor come anywhere close, you knew that these girls would be much faster, you usually get beat by a lot in a triathlon on the bike so why would it be&amp;nbsp;any different here. All you have to do is ride for an hour and it's over.&amp;nbsp;You can handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I kept riding. As I passed through the finish line for the second time I had the urge to tell everyone how cold I was. I wondered to myself how much colder I could possibly get on my last loop. The answer is, pretty damn cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet were numb, my body was cold, I was absolutely soaking wet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I finished the race there were only two people at the finish line. They were like - what happened? I said - well - I got dropped on the first hill and rode the whole damn thing by myself and now I'm absolutely freezing. How do I get back to my car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They gave me crappy directions and I rode down some long winding hill to get back. The "get to the finish line" movement was now gone and all of the remaining heat from my body was escaping. Not knowing where I was, I reached for&amp;nbsp;the GPS on my phone for directions. I could hardly take off my gloves to activate the phone.&amp;nbsp;My hands were shaking and I was standing in the middle of some nowhere street in the pouring rain. I nearly broke down right there. I knew that I was all I had to get myself out of this situation and that this is how people get hypothermia and into serious trouble.&lt;br /&gt;Again, I had to talk to myself - you can do it, it's only 5 more miles to get back to the car. Just peddle and concentrate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After repeating the GPS directions event a couple of times I finally figured out how to get back to the car. As I rode back, I saw Rich's group starting their race.&amp;nbsp;I got closer to my car and the skies opened up and it started gushing rain. It wasn't even like standing in a shower but more like riding through a swimming pool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view¤t=sterlingclassicmensrace2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Sterling Classic road race 2010,Sterling Classic road race 2010" border="0" src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/sterlingclassicmensrace2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I got my bike and my body into the car. I was shaking so hard and my body was so cold that I could hardly get my soaked clothes off my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words - this experience ranks up there with the all time&amp;nbsp;dumbest things I have ever done - kept ringing in my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shivering in my car for the next 25 minutes and blasted the heat for the entire ride home. It sucked. The only good news is that now I know I can ride in the rain. The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-3700052294662327411?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/3700052294662327411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/05/sterling-classic.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3700052294662327411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3700052294662327411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/05/sterling-classic.html' title='Sterling Classic'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-3567366349470607347</id><published>2010-04-29T20:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T20:16:54.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rude Awakening</title><content type='html'>Chasing strength is a good name for the way I'm feeling today, although I don't even have the energy to&amp;nbsp;find&amp;nbsp;it let alone chase it. Point blank, I feel like shit. I've taken the last two days off and I'm still completely exhausted physically and emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The alarm has gone off at 5am three times this week and I only mustered the strength to rise and shine for one of those occasions.&amp;nbsp;I do feel however, that last weekend&amp;nbsp;included some break throughs with distances and how I felt during my workouts.&amp;nbsp;I rode and ran further than I have in the last few months. On Saturday I went for a beautiful 30 mile bike ride through Concord and on Sunday I took Zion for an awesome 8.5 mile run which included 3 miles of trail running in the fells. Monday I swam and Tuesday I took spin class. One of the trainers at the gym even commented on how I'm leaning down and how my efforts are starting to pay off. The part that sucks is that I felt so good on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday&amp;nbsp;and yet for&amp;nbsp;the last two days I've felt&amp;nbsp;terrible. I am hating this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding that my "recovery day" is consistently the worst day of the week. Yesterday I took the day off and ate candy and drank beers and today I ate even more candy and I can hardly move from my bed. Ugh. I suppose it doesn't help that I have been a little naughtly lately with going out and eating poorly. The problem is that the more tired I am, the worse my behavior is. What I really need on tired days is to eat healthy, go to bed early, and take it easy. I'm&amp;nbsp;effectively doing the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even imagine how difficult this is going to become when I get into the "build" phase of my training. Let me share with you what my second and third week of "build" training will entail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday July 18&lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr 15 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 1 hr 11 min&lt;br /&gt;Core work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday&lt;br /&gt;Recovery Swim 30 min 1500 yards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday &lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr 40 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 35&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday &lt;br /&gt;Swim 1 hr 6 min 3300 yards&lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr 16 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 23 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday &lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr Tabata Intervals&lt;br /&gt;Run 1 hr Hill Bounding&lt;br /&gt;Core Strength&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday &lt;br /&gt;Resistance Swim 52 min 2600 yards &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday &lt;br /&gt;Bike 3 hrs 26 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 35 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday July 25&lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr 15 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 1 hr 15&lt;br /&gt;Core work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday &lt;br /&gt;Recovery Swim&amp;nbsp;30 min 1500 yards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday &lt;br /&gt;Bike 2 hrs&lt;br /&gt;Run 40 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday&lt;br /&gt;Swim big set 1 hr 14 min 3700 yards&lt;br /&gt;Bike 1 hr 15 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 21 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday&lt;br /&gt;Bike Tabata Intervals 1 hr&lt;br /&gt;Run Hill Bounding 1 hr&lt;br /&gt;Core work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday&lt;br /&gt;Resistance Swim 1 hr 2 min 3100 yards&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday &lt;br /&gt;Bike 3 hrs 40 min&lt;br /&gt;Run 40 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at this schedule and wonder how I'm going to do it. The biggest issue is fitting in sleep. I can knock out a swim in the morning and&amp;nbsp;do an hour or two after work but the problem is the next day when&amp;nbsp;I try to do it all over again. The alarm goes off at 5am and it's a rude awakening. I found out a couple of months ago that to be able to workout day after day I will have to be disciplined about sleep and managing my diet. Unfortunately, I have a massive sweet tooth and I love beer, so I've got that working against me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm going to force myself out of this slump and take Zion for a nice long run. I'll let the endorphins kick back in to support my spirit&amp;nbsp;and I'll feed them all day long with caffeine. My suffering will only last until&amp;nbsp;I get pumped up again since it'll be Friday night and I'll&amp;nbsp;be going&amp;nbsp;out with my girls. Saturday will come and I'll be only half rested with lack of sleep but&amp;nbsp;hopefully I&amp;nbsp;will not have indulged.&amp;nbsp;I'll spin out 40 miles, take a quick rest, and get ready for Saturday night. Oh yes, it's becoming more obvious where the&amp;nbsp;problem is, but quite hard to avoid nonetheless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-3567366349470607347?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/3567366349470607347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/rude-awakening.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3567366349470607347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3567366349470607347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/rude-awakening.html' title='Rude Awakening'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-8609778514845447746</id><published>2010-04-19T23:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T23:06:33.456-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USAF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa Fe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring Fling Triathlon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Mexico'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abby Porter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Combat Rescue Officer'/><title type='text'>New Mexico - full of light</title><content type='html'>Being in New Mexico this weekend was such a pleasure. We packed the weekend with adventures starting with the celebration of Dary graduating as a Combat Rescue Office in the USAF Pararescue, that others may live. He has been training for the past year and a half to become one of the few who will be called into action to rescue and save another. Don't feel bad if you haven't heard of this job before. Everyone recognizes the name Navy Seal or Green Beret, but few know about the Pararescue team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pararescue job was created 60 years ago when a Doc and two medics jumped into the Vietnam forest by way of airplane to save the men on the ground. At the time, there was no other way of accessing the men and there was no one to call if you got stuck. The effort was successful and after a month of treating the men on the ground all were able to walk out alive. Today, Dary is one of only 500 men who serve on the Pararescue team. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To become a CRO (combat rescue officer) or PJ (pararescue jumper) you must endure 1.5 to 2 years of training. Since Dary is already an officer his training was compacted into 1.5 years. The major difference is that the PJs have more extensive medical training. All endured INDOC, which is as brutal as&amp;nbsp;you can imagine it to be and it has been portrayed fairly well in movies.&amp;nbsp;To get through - you must be able to complete a&amp;nbsp;million push ups, sit ups, pull ups, running, and lots and lots of water exercises. The point of the training is to see how well the men act and survive under stress and discomfort. They do exercises like tieing your hands and feet together and bobbing to the bottom of the pool or putting your feet up on the side of the pool and continuously dunking your head underwater. The tasks become more and more complicated when&amp;nbsp;the boys work together as a team to share air. By the end, you know how to&amp;nbsp;blow the water out your face mask under water and untangle breathing apparatus and backpack cords while holding your breath under water. It's during INDOC that many of the men drop out. In the next two sessions, the rest of the men quit or give up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The training continues with resuce and survival tactics including land navigation, mountain operations, jumping out of airplanes at 1500 feet, jumping out of helicopters, water operation, weapons, and medical. To sum it up, the training is brutal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dary will be stationed in Vegas and can be deployed at any time. His mission can be anything that involves rescuing and savings civilians or our military from any category. The US Air Force Pararesuce is the only group in the military that&amp;nbsp;has the mission to save others. The saying goes -&amp;nbsp;even a Navy Seal or a Green Beret need to call 911 sometimes. That's when Dary comes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The graduation was very exciting and they did a great job informing the families of what our boys have been up to for the last couple of years. After the men put on their maroon berets they all lined up and we got to shake every person's hand. That part was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we went to Old Town, Santa Fe to enjoy the serenely beautiful adobe architecture and outdoor museums. The adventure was so fulfilling for me. Beginning with the 60 mile drive from Albuquerque over the rugged terrain to Santa Fe the ground was covered with sage brush and the mountains stood up tall. I couldn't decide if the brush covered terrain was more beautiful than it is in Colorado since I actually enjoyed seeing it here, sparse and dry, or if it was that I missed Colorado and appreciated this type of landscape more than before. The land, hot sun on my skin, and high elevation air felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking around the beautiful museums and seeing local craftsman work was such a pleasure. It was a pleasant surprise to find work from an artist that I particularly liked from fairs in Boulder, named Sweet Bird. Her work is functional and machine-like sprinkled with inspirational themes and pretty things. She can't be mistaken for just-a-chick-artist though, she's a real badass. Check out &lt;a href="http://www.sweetbirdstudio.com/Galleries/buckles.html"&gt;evil by nature&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling good and seeing&amp;nbsp;brilliant colors and&amp;nbsp;art done well is enough to send me over the edge. It pours so much inspiration into my soul that I think about doing crazy things like living more simply and deviating from the norm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our final day in New Mexico was spent doing a backwards sprint triathlon in Rio Rancho. The town has sprung up from no where since HP built a new office there and it boasts&amp;nbsp;modern facilities like the Aquatic Center, from where the race started. The race was super fun since it went in the opposite order - run bike swim. The run and bike were super hilly with lots of climbing and the run even featured a 1 mile trail run through soft dirt. The views of course were spectacular featuring red dessert dirt and&amp;nbsp;sage brush with big and powerful mountains in the background, almost too far to reach. The sun shone through them and the colors were deep, vaguely green, and orange and red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought the swim would be easy since it was only 400 meters and in a pool, but after I jumped in and began my&amp;nbsp;serpentine swim&amp;nbsp;I quickly realized how thin the air was. Holding my breath for even one second was impossible and I don't even think I did one stroke before I flipped over and completed the swim on my back. It sucks to be the one coming from sea level when I used to train at 5,000 to 10,000 feet daily. Regardless, the feeling of ectasy following the race was enough to make me want to sign up for a triathlon every weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole weekend was so amazing. From spending time with my family, celebrating Dary's incredible accomplishments and the beginning of his new career, feeling, seeing and breathing in the west, experiencing a new place filled with light and beauty, talking through the possibilities of metalworking with Tommy, basking in the sun with ink still tatooed on my arm from my tri...I could go on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy for such a wonderful experience. Everything happens for a reason and inspiration comes from everywhere. It's so hard to capture it during the daily grind and I've been desperate to find it lately. For now, I'll take my sun tanned skin and oxygen deprived air&amp;nbsp;... memories of beauty and the happiness that came with it... I'll mull it around in my head for the next few days until I fall back into the normal humdrum life and routine that I live.&amp;nbsp;I just have to decide what the trick is...go back for more and replenish my soul with all of these good things.... or make changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trisportcoaching.com/race-results/spring-fling-2010-age-group.html"&gt;Spring Fling Triathlon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rio Rancho NM - April 18, 2010&lt;br /&gt;5k run, 30k bike, 400yd swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Results&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th AG, Abigail Porter &lt;br /&gt;31 Winchester MA &lt;br /&gt;1:49:10.30 &lt;br /&gt;Run 27:12 Bike 1:13:53 Swim 8:07 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st AG, Allie Duba &lt;br /&gt;24 Albuquerque NM &lt;br /&gt;1:33:41.50 &lt;br /&gt;Run 22:47 Bike 1:04:15 Swim 6:41&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-8609778514845447746?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/8609778514845447746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-mexico-full-of-light.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8609778514845447746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/8609778514845447746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-mexico-full-of-light.html' title='New Mexico - full of light'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-5628203957680671712</id><published>2010-04-10T17:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T17:41:59.503-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Creepy Ken'/><title type='text'>Creepy Ken</title><content type='html'>Main Entry: creepy &lt;br /&gt;Pronunciation: \ˈkrē-pē\&lt;br /&gt;: producing a nervous shivery apprehension, a creepy horror story; also : eerie&lt;br /&gt;: of, relating to, or being a creep : annoyingly unpleasant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Entry: ap•pre•hen•sion &lt;br /&gt;Pronunciation: \ˌa-pri-ˈhen(t)-shən\&lt;br /&gt;: suspicion or fear especially of future evil : foreboding, an atmosphere of nervous apprehension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main Entry: 1fore•bod•ing &lt;br /&gt;Pronunciation: \-ˈbō-diŋ\&lt;br /&gt;: the act of one who forebodes; also : an omen, prediction, or presentiment especially of coming evil : portent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Thursday night swim practice and the team is waiting around by the pool. I had been looking forward to tonight for the social after practice. As we waited for practice to start a fellow swimmer struck up conversation with me. In the short minute or two that we talked I had told him that I was planning on going to the social but had to take the train to Alewife to get my car and drive back into Harvard Square so that I'd have my car ready when I wanted to leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I had been working out a lot this week. On Monday I swam, ran, and did core work; on Tuesday I biked with the Rippers in the morning; and on Wednesday I swam. Now it's Thursday and I ran with Zion in the morning and here I was at swim practice that same day. Needless to say, I was tired. So, I jumped out of the pool after 40 minutes, which no one does because practice is always at least an hour. I start heading towards the showers to begin the process of retrieving my car. As I'm walking to the locker room I hear my name and Ken is right behind me. He stops me and offers to walk with me to get my car. I refuse saying, no, you don't have to do that encourage him to get back into the water. By association of the swim team I assume he's a normal guy, but I did think it was odd for him to jump out of the pool earlier then he probably intended to walk with me to my car. After going back and forth, I finally agree to let him come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon acceptance, he says "great! I'll be ready in 5 minutes." I say, "I'll be ready in 15."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm by my locker having just gotten out of the shower and I hear Ken's voice echo into the locker room asking me I'm still there. I yell out yes. Knowing that he was waiting for me, I pop my head out of the locker room and let him know that I still had to dry my hair. Upon doing so, he pulls his head around the corner and says "is anyone in there?" My reaction was - "you can't come in here and yes there are people in here!" I turn around quickly and head back into the locker room and he says "you look nice." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back at the hair dryer thinking... this guy is kind of weird. Why would he ask if anyone is in the locker room and why did he even think for one second that he could come in. People are in and out of the locker room all the time and changing. That's just weird. And why would he say I look nice when I'm clearly not ready yet and have soaking wet hair. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk out of the locker room when I'm done. He offers me his jacket for the walk, which I gladly accept since the temperature had plummeted throughout the day from 6 and sunny to 50 degrees and misty. When he gestured to give me his jacket, he motions like he was going to put it on me for me. I say thank you and just grab the jacket, not letting him put it over my shoulders. In my head I think, this is too close for comfort and everything about this guy is skeezing me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walk over the JFK bridge I'm consciously aware that he's walking too close to me. My legs are completely bare since I had worn a short summer dress and flip flops that day. In the background, he's telling me what he does for work. His story doesn't make sense and he's talking in circles. He's explaining that his business is managing people's risk. So I ask some probing questions like - "so are you selling the service to talk with people about managing their risk, or are you a money manager? What exactly are you?" He doesn't really answer the question and talks in circles some more. After about 7 minutes of this I say, "if this is your business you should really be more clear about what you do." I'm turned off greatly by this. Being in sales, I have a keen ear for getting to the point and coming away from a conversation with clear answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we wait for the train I'm sipping on my nuun water. He says "give me some of that." Reactively, I hand him the bottle. As soon as he sips it, I think "damn, now I can't have anymore and I'm going to have to throw that out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk onto the train and I take a single seat, flanked by people on either side. He walks over and continues to ask me normal questions in a weird way. He asks "did you go to college?" Most people say "where did you go to college?" I found it both condescending and weird that he asked in that way. At the next stop he asked the person next to me to slide over so he could sit next to me. He sat with a wide stance so that his leg was uncomfortably close to mine and his bag was on his lap and both arms were crossed close to his chest. I felt a tapping on my side as he asked me questions. At the time, I wasn't sure if it was his bag, or his finger.&lt;br /&gt;During the next two stops his talk got to be incomprehensible. He told me that "Boston is such a mind fuck. Everyone lives with all his history, like the Mayflower and Paul Revere." Confused, I asked "so how does that weigh you down?" He had no answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the next few minutes it became extremely clear that he was unable to communicate in a linear thought pattern. I'm thinking, great - rather than bringing someone with me who could make me feel safer, I'm bringing the weirdo with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each stop we're getting closer and closer to Alewife Station where I had parked my car earlier in the day. The parking lot is large and there is no security. I know that soon I'll be in a unpopulated garage with him and alone. While I'm still in the train I'm getting everything organized so that I have my keys in hand. Here we are, the last stop. At this point, I'm on high alert. My heart is even paced, my adrenaline is ready to surge, and I'm pissed thinking ... if this kid tries to do anything I'm going to kick his ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we ride up the escalator I'm a couple of stairs ahead of him and I feel the back of his finger rest on the back of my knee. I turn around and say "did you just touch me?!" He says "oh sorry, I didn't mean to." I step forward away from him and say in a strong and assertive voice "you're just saying some really weird things. I just met you and you're here about to drive with me and I want to make sure things are cool." He says "that's one way to look at it." As we ride up the second escalator, I motion for him to ride in front of me. I look back at the person behind me as if to say "help." I consider if I should ask him to walk me to my car, but then I think, WTF, this guy is going to get IN my car! I'm pissed but also focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk out to the car and I'm keeping my distance from him. Luckily, and perhaps it was his reaction from me verbalizing that it was not cool for him to touch me and that he was saying weird things, he seemed to keep completely to his side of the car. It was almost as if he recluded into the seat. I'm feeling more and more free the closer we get to Harvard. He continues to tell me stranger things like "he is intensely looking for a wife and to start his family." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half way there he asks me "so, what is it that I said was weird?" I say, "I'm good, I really don't want to talk about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later he says "I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're almost to our destination and he says "maybe we can go out to dinner sometime and I can try not to be so strange." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I don't answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to the parking lot, he gets out of my car and I lock it immediately. He asks if he can leave his bag in the car, and my response is "I would rather not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get into the bar and find others from the swim team. I'm talking to another guy, Ken is in the corner, and I feel someone touch my side. I whip around and see who it is, but no one had caused it. I turn back to my new friend and say "I'm just really paranoid right now." He says, "so you experienced it?" I look at him in the eye, and say, "yes." He's nodding his head like he knows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, yea he's a real weirdo. Our coach has had to talk to him about it. He's stalked and been creepy to every girl on this team. He turns to the others to fill them in on our conversation and they unanimously agree that he's totally weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The validation from the others definitely made me feel better. My body was still on high alert and not relaxed yet. I was practically biting my nails, which I never do.&lt;br /&gt;Later that night I informed my coach of everything that happened. He was definitely pissed. He wasn't there and said that if he was that he wouldn't have done that because he knows that he's onto him. He asked me to write up everything that happened so that he can document it and take action. He also advised to tell any other women on the team about it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days later, my blood pressure still rises writing about the experience. It was definitely strange experience and a good reminder to not trust people without reason and to follow your gut instinct, even it it means hurting some one's feelings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-5628203957680671712?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/5628203957680671712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/creepy-ken.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5628203957680671712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5628203957680671712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/04/creepy-ken.html' title='Creepy Ken'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-5472073310804077070</id><published>2010-03-28T19:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T10:41:05.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Killington's Last Hoorah</title><content type='html'>Today was Killington's last hoorah. Looking back on the season, Killington got me through some tough months. It saw all of my anger, all of my reckless behavior, and yet it still let me have fun and come back for more, even when I gave it hell. I have so many insanely fun memories of this season including season opener when only two runs were open and yet the whole crew was out there taking as many turns as possible, 80s party when Rachel and I dressed up in matching "let's get physical" type outfits looking ridiculous and dancing like no one was watching, Pimps and Hos theme party at the Pickle exemplifying everything that debauchery stands for, and coveted housemate time together on Saturday and Sunday mornings spent recapping the night before and drinking coffee before hitting the slopes. I've met so many people and have had so many good times and yet this weekend was perhaps the most special for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday night when we rolled into the house it was amazing how much the place and the people felt like home. It had been a few weeks since I had seen everyone and it really struck me how much I had missed seeing everyone. The scene was ... chit chat on the couch with Tommy and Mandelbaum, silly stories being shared, a mix of poking jabs at each other and loving banter, the crew rolls in from a Friday night Pickle outing and Cari is giddy and looking fabulous, jokes and laughter in the air and even Clifford has a smile ear to ear. I had a light and happy heart being with everyone taking in the experience, as it existed in that moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning I took Zion for one more shuffle up the hill. Here's a video of him running at full speed down the hill, absolutely happy as can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m7qRiveZtK8&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m7qRiveZtK8&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house was buzzing with excitement for the Mogul Challenge and everyone got to the hill early to warm up for their qualifying races. The course was icey and fast but everyone progressed on to the next round. The day was exciting and beautiful with bright blue skies. I got a real treat by running into Jodi and her crew. It's crazy, but we have hardly ever skiied together and we both spend our entire winters on the slopes. Having talked about meeting up every time we had happy hour together at the Lookout, we finally got to take a few runs together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night we found ourselves at our usual spot at the back bar at the Pickle. Everyone was having a great time. We had dancing, smiles, and good humor in the air. There is almost always some kind of drama at the end of the night, but this night was different. Everyone was happy, there, and taking it all in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, duals came on Sunday. The course was even faster than yesterday and the crew monopolized the standings. There were a few head on head rounds of competition between friends and in the end it was practically a battle just to stay on top of your skiis. The course was so difficult that almost everyone who got knocked out of the round blew up and lost their skiis or landed hard after a big jump. Bobby Zeolla should have taken the prize but he settled for second. It was a tough battle for everyone who competed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;current=mogulchallenge.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/mogulchallenge.jpg" border="0" alt="Mogul Challenge,Killington"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I've made it home and endured the last tired as hell ride back from Killy on a Sunday. It's been a big season and Killy saw me through it all. I'm signing off with last night's tired eyes and feeling appreciation for where I have come from and where I am now. The last eight months have been like navigating through a labrinth and having to overcome challenges to make it to the next door. Armed with the excitement of moving into a new room, I'd find a flood of water and would have to wade through it to make it to the next stepping stone. I feel like I'm out of the deep dark tunnels and seeing an easier road ahead. The timing of the journey was in parallel to my experience at Killington, and so the two exist in unison for me in my memories. It will be interesting to see what I decide to do next year, but for now, I'm taking things one day at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-5472073310804077070?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7qRiveZtK8' title='Killington&apos;s Last Hoorah'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/5472073310804077070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/killingtons-last-hoorah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5472073310804077070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/5472073310804077070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/killingtons-last-hoorah.html' title='Killington&apos;s Last Hoorah'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1310812514676478259</id><published>2010-03-25T21:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T22:07:42.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramping up</title><content type='html'>The last two weeks have been a lot of fun. I've been focused on getting healthier and working out consecutive days in a row. Thanks to my handy iPhone app called Fitness Plan, I've been tracking my activity. Below is a snapshot of the last couple of weeks. I've been tracking both my workouts and alcohol intake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sat March 13th - Swim CMSC 1 hr; Hike with Zion 1 hr at Fells, Sheepfold route(pouring rain)&lt;br /&gt;Sun 14th - Run with Zion 45 min, hill route (pouring rain)&lt;br /&gt;Mon 15th - Spin at BSC, 45 min (still raining)&lt;br /&gt;Tues 16th - Swim CMSC 1 hr&lt;br /&gt;Wedn 17th - Bike with Rippers, 1 hr 45 min - (at 5:45am I'm OK, by 7:15am I'm a popsicle) (1 Guinness - it's St. Patty's Day!)&lt;br /&gt;18th - day off (oops, 4 beers... clearly exhausted from working out, I gave in)&lt;br /&gt;19th - Run with Zion 25 min, around Horn Pond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sat March 20th - CMSC swim meet at Harvard, swam 1000m in 16:17; Bike 1hr 15 around Mystic Lake and up Johnson Road to main intersection and home; walk with Zion up the "mountain" next to our house with Mom.(out with the girls on a beautiful night after our 70 degree day, 1 beer, 1 wine)&lt;br /&gt;Sun 21st - Hike with Zion 1 hr at Fells, Sheepfold route&lt;br /&gt;Mon 22nd - Swim CMSC 1 hr&lt;br /&gt;Tues 23rd - Spin 45 min&lt;br /&gt;Wed 24th - Swim CMSC 1 hr (1 wine, book club with the girls)&lt;br /&gt;Thurs 25th - Run w Zion around Horn Pond, 25 min&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find that working out consecutive days in a row takes a lot more effort than just the activity itself. To avoid getting sick with, recovering in time to work out the next day, and having the ability to wake up in time for swim practice when the alarm goes off at 4:50am, takes eating healthier, not drinking alcohol, and getting rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing pretty well moderating alcohol intake and I've already gotten made fun of for trying an O'Douls. In regard to eating, I think I've actually gained weight despite my activities because I've been stuffing my face. I also realized that even though I'm working out more, I can't eat a bag of m&amp;ms and 7 cookies in one day. I'm going to make myself a diabetic if I'm not one already. Needless to say, I have a long way to come with nutrition, but I'm happy that I've taken steps towards working out more and adjusting my behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next couple of months are already busy. This weekend is Mogul Challenge at Killington. I'm planning on getting up early on Saturday morning and taking Zion for one last climb up to the top of Killington Mountain. The rest of the day and night should be filled with complete debauchery. Hopefully it'll be sunny so we can hang out on the back porch of Bear Mountain Lodge and watch my buddies compete. One of them will certainly win. They all bust it hard down the moguls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next weekend I'll be in Florida catching some much needed sun and playing tennis with the ladies (aka, my grandmother who will still smoke my ass even though she's nearly 80). April 16th I head to New Mexico to watch Dary graduate from his Para Rescue program with the Air Force. He's been training for two years and doing insane things like jumping out of airplanes at night, scuba diving in murky water, and playing survival in the wilderness. After graduation he'll be stationed in Las Vegas until he gets deployed. More on his adventures later. His girlfriend is a kick butt triathlete and I'm going to do a Sprint Tri with her while I'm there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been meeting more people in my swim club, which has been fun. Thinking about biking in comparison, I've already found that I need more roadie buddies. My Winch Rippers ride early and no one is ever around to ride in the afternoon, so I did some research and found the Northeast Bicycle Club. They have two rides on Saturdays- one that meets at the Cycle Loft and one that rides from Bedford to Harvard (not Cambridge Harvard, the Harvard with the apple orchards). I really want to learn the Harvard route but I hear they have a drop-you and don't look back mentality, which the club is trying to change. However, I think I'll play it safe for my first ride with the group and link up with the Cycle Loft crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did register for a bike race on March 8th called the 16th Annual Sterling Classic Road Race. I've never competed in any bike specific races and I'm hoping to see a lot of hot legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, it's already 10pm and I'm not sure if I'm going to get up for swimming tomorrow or skip it. This is the reality that I'm working with. Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1310812514676478259?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1310812514676478259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/ramping-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1310812514676478259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1310812514676478259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/ramping-up.html' title='Ramping up'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6593148462198594096</id><published>2010-03-03T13:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T13:42:13.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Match.com – Dating Diaries</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;***Note: I am very sorry if you are reading this and you are one of my dating diary examples. Please forgive me.***&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Real Men Don’t like Burberry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a Saturday afternoon and I had just met up with a new Match date about 6 minutes earlier. Due to location we decide to take a stroll down Newbury Street. For those of you familiar, we started walking on the Arlington side and one of the first stores we pass is Burberry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s how the conversation ensued:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Match Date: I really like Burberry.&lt;br /&gt;Abby: Really?&lt;br /&gt;Match Date: Yea, I really like their stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Abby: Huh. I’ve just never heard someone say that before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my head, the following conversation ensues:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Match Date: I really like Burberry.&lt;br /&gt;Abby: Really? I don’t know anyone who likes Burberry.&lt;br /&gt;Match Date: Yea, I really like their stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Abby: Huh. I’ve just never heard someone say that before because #1, that shit is so ugly and insanely expensive. #2. you’re a dude and one of the first things you tell me about yourself is that you like high end fashion!? What does that say about you? #3, Are you trying to tell me that you make enough money to spend it on expensive things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;….In a split second… the following thoughts zip through my mind: Real men don’t like Burberry. You probably spend your weekends shopping and not doing fun stuff like skiing and god forbid you break a sweat. You probably take too much time getting ready in the morning and not enough time pleasing your woman. I want a real man and I can tell you right now that no man that I’m going to be into is going to like Burberry. Are you f&amp;*king kidding me? You’re out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... And then I spent the rest of the afternoon with a complete stranger who I knew was not a match for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Freak Out&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having a minor crazy moment myself, I am happy to report on someone else’s freak out session rather than my own. It’s a funny thing that happens when emotions are tampered with. The story of love is almost always preceded by moments of anxiety, stress, anger, and feeling left out to dry. It’s the part about being single that sucks. After snapping out of my funk, I have to admit that I felt a lot stronger when I saw male-craziness directed at me six-fold of what I dealt out the week before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The below note was written by a guy through Match.com. He originally sent me a fairly long and nice note. I never replied and here is his follow-up freak out note to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear MtnGirl2010,&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that because of you I'm beginning to question the wisdom of a computer generated report on dating compatibility. According to match.com we have a lot in common. It says that we're a mutual match and that I'm looking for a woman like you and you are looking for a man like me. Obviously, match.com made a mistake somewhere. Despite our various areas of compatibility you didn't even feel inclined to reply to my email with a line, perhaps, just to thank me for my interest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, its not my intent with this email to make you feel uncomfortable. I don't actually have the need for an email thanking me for my interest. But as an intelligent woman, I think you get my point. A reply would be the natural, logical thing to happen. So now, I'm questioning whether online dating is really worth our time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that in theory it has the right elements. It shows us one or more pictures of the person selected by the computer to be on our list of possibilities. It shows many areas of compatibility or lack of it to help us make up our minds. It even allows people to write freely about who they are and what and who they're looking for. Still, I think it has failed in our case. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who knows? Perhaps match.com is right about the basic elements of compatibility, but wrong about human nature. What if when presented with many options we tend to endlessly look for the absolute perfect match. In the real world out there we're normally limited by our environment, the places we visit, the activities we engage in. But here, a whole world of possibility is open for our taking. I think that's a real danger. The ease with which technology presents us with so many options might lead us to an endless search for that ideal person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, it could be something else entirely. It could be that with the power of technology we're misled into thinking that we can have absolute control in choosing the ideal mate. That the system can become some sort of a magic lamp where we express our wishes in detail and the genie magically presents them to us. The problem is that absolute control does not exist. We're not machines. We're complex human beings who react to life in a, sometimes, very unpredictable fashion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But even if we had that kind of control in choosing a mate, it would take away the spontaneity of life. The unpredictability that makes life more interesting and exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, this email is getting way too long. I might be wrong on all counts. It's even possible you already found your perfect match and simply forgot to get yourself out of the system. It could be that you're shy or too busy. Or that you really didn't see anything in my profile that caught your interest. Still, I think it's important to remember that we are "people" caught up in a "virtual" world looking for someone who could bring something positive to our "real" lives in the forms of companionship, friendship, and love. So, I think it would be wrong for us to behave selfishly as if we simply don't care. And I have to admit I've been guilty of that too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as action or inaction can have an impact, your inaction has caused me to think about this and re-evaluate my values, attitudes, and ideas. The result is positive. I have no one else to thank but you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you and best of luck in your search. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Match.com Dude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, thank god it was him, and not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Learn Yer Lesson&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I signed off of Match.com. Like my previous experience on Match, I found that it’s like finding a needle in a haystack to connect with anyone who is compatible with you. Of course, there are incredible stories of people who have found their spouse through Match, which is awesome. The reality is that Match.com shows you pictures, it gives you the facts about someone and a little explanation about what they like to do. It doesn’t show you personality, it doesn’t show you how someone interacts with a group, and it doesn’t show you how they would treat you or if they are fun, kind, and caring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest lesson, following my week of dating anxiety, was that I need to do what is best for me. I am happiest when I’m with my friends and my family… with people who really care about me. Not only do I need to remember to spend time with the people who I care about, but I also need to focus on doing the things that are fun for me. Rather than bending myself to fit into someone else’s program, I need to stick with what makes me tick. I figure, if I’m going to invest my time looking for a needle in a haystack on Match, then I may as well redirect my time doing something that I would want to do anyway like join a cycling or running group, or attend more swim team socials. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final lesson is that if he’s interested, he’ll initiate the next move. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, I’m walking away… feeling stronger then when I entered, and with a few lessons under my belt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6593148462198594096?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6593148462198594096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/matchcom-dating-diaries.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6593148462198594096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6593148462198594096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/03/matchcom-dating-diaries.html' title='Match.com – Dating Diaries'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6374206093877212658</id><published>2010-02-14T19:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T19:48:25.937-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>It's Valentine's Day, which gives me reason to feel a flush of feelings. Since today is dedicated to love, I thought i'd keep it simple and mention a few things that I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing glamorous here, so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;candy, dunks, looking back on memories by scrolling through my facebook photos, meeting new people, laughing loudly and sometimes laughing louder than necessary, silence, hugs, Zion sitting close to me, laying my head back on a pillow after a tough workout, compliments, my family and friends, getting a tan, scoring with a chip shot, shaking my rear, beer, honey, fantasy stories, fantasizing, the calm after a run, love, sweet kisses, most variations on the color pink, hot pink, magenta, colored pencils, my brothers, sitting on the back porch with mom and pops, the smell of construction, being outside, sweating when you want to, the feeling of freedom and happiness that comes when someone loves you because of all the things that exemplify all that you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day, not just to the person you love, but to all the things that you love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6374206093877212658?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6374206093877212658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6374206093877212658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6374206093877212658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-7335438969476276416</id><published>2010-01-21T20:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T21:55:31.218-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skinning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='telemark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='killington'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zion'/><title type='text'>Killington Report: Skinning Expedition</title><content type='html'>The alarm goes off at 4:30am. I hear Tommy talking in his sleep... or maybe he was awake... I couldn't tell since I still had my earplugs in. I jump out of bed, rip my ear plugs out and shut off the phone before I wake up both of my Killington roomates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting up early is not my specialty unless there is something that I'm super excited about. Last week I bought a new tele setup and this weekend I decided to test out my new gear by skinning up Killington with Zion. My goal was to get to the Bear Mountain parking lot ASAP and start skinning at 5am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pitch black out as I drove to the mountain, and I was tired but twitching with excitement. My plan was to skin up the blue trails located to the right of Outer Limits, but as I rolled into the parking lot I could see the snow cats grooming the same trails that I wanted to be on. I hadn't planned on that. Not really wanting anyone to know I was there or for Zion to get too close to a huge motorized vehicle, I came up with plan B which was to skin up the green trails to the left of Devils Fiddle. Moving a little slower than I had planned, I was on the snow at 5:21am heading up the trail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily this weekend was so much warmer than last. It was 30 degrees at 5am which is very warm for this early in the morning. I had my headlamp on, underlayers, MontBell micropuffy, arc'teryx shell, and light gloves. I didn't bother with a backpack since I knew that I would be inbounds. I thought about bringing warmer gloves, but since I wasn't bringing a pack to stuff them in I reluctantly left them in the car. I stuck a bottle of nuun water in my jacket and a couple of gels for fuel, and called it good. After only 10 or 15 minutes I had to de-layer and take off my micropuffy. I was happy I had it with me though. Even though I was inbounds, I was also by myself and wanted to make sure I had an extra layer of warmth if I needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hike began and the terrain was very easy to hike. The beginning felt like rolling hills even though it was an incline up the green trails. It was definitely dark out. I couldn't see Zion unless I called his name and he came back to check in with me. It felt like he was taking liberties and travelling a little too far ahead of me. No one was around, so I wasn't afraid for his safety but I also wanted to make sure he checked in with me often, mostly for my own benefit to ease any stray feelings of being alone in the pitch black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We trucked along and it was mostly silent and dark. I was feeling a ton of power and energy until I saw a light coming over the hill and a loud motor. I called Zion over to me and couldn't quite grab him in time to feel completely comfortable. When I saw that it was a snowmobiler, I felt a little better than if it was a snowcat. Zion was interested in him but let him pass without getting in his way too much. It was still closer than I would want him to go to a motorized vehicle, which made me realize that I needed to be a little quicker to grab his collar. I thought the snowmobiler would stop to ask me why I was there, but he kept going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little diversion woke me up a little and made me a bit nervous, so I stopped to pop a gel. I had a chocolate one with caffeine which is one of my favorite flavors but noted that gels taste much better when they aren't so dense from the cold. My goal was to climb for 2 hours or until we got to the top so I had some moving to do. The mountain opened at 8am and I wanted to make sure we were off the hill well before the resort opened. Being on the slopes with a dog during business hours would certainly be grounds for getting yelled at by a patroller. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved on. I came to a crossroads and decided to take the route that offered a steeper climb. The greens were fine, but a little boring. The incline felt great and I was very pleased with how easy it was to flip up my climbing wires. Compared to rotating the back of a dynafit binding, this was an easy adjustment. Part way up this slope I noticed that Zion was starting to traverse the slope. This turned out to be a warming of a fairly steep climb with moguls. Skins work best when they have full traction under foot. As it got steeper I could feel that I was loosing some traction and starting to slip backwards. I had to side step to get past certain sections and moguls. I must have been very well rested though because the motion felt great. I could feel the effort in the sides of my legs but nothing hurt. We got past the toughest part and came into a clearing which allowed the wind to pick up. Despite it being relatively warm, wind is never fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a fair effort to get up the steeper mogul section, I trudged along mostly looking down at the spot of light that my headlamp created in the snow. When I looked up to check in with Zion, I saw not too far ahead of me an animal that looked to be the size of a cow. It was interacting with a smaller animal, which I pinned to be Zion. I looked at the animal to decipher what it was. It couldn't be a moose because I didn't see any antlers. It could almost be a bear. I thought of Zion and yelled, Zion come! The animal turned quickly and started coming at me. I thought this must be a coyote given the speed at which it was moving. I considered when we were in Crested Butte and Zion took off running with a pack of coyotes. It came at me quickly and I put both of my poles up in a spear like fasion to protect myself. The animal came into range of my headlamp and reared back when it saw my poles. At that very moment, I realized it was Zion. Boom, boom, boom my heart was beating loudly. Wow, that gave me a jolt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped to evaluate my situation. Why did I just have that real of a delusion. Was I OK, yes. Was I safe, yes. Were there any animals around me, no. Was I overexerted, no. Was I too cold, no. Ok, I could keep going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost right after that optical allusion the sky started to lighten up. There was no sun, just a light tint of white over the grey wind. I looked at the time and I still had a good 30 minutes to keep treking to reach my goal. Still frazzled from the animal delusion, I skinned up to the trees and took shelter out of the wind to put my micropuffy back on. I knew that being this much higher on the mountain and with my nerves talking to me, I would need a little more warmth to finish the hike. I also knew that when I got to the top it might be even windier and I'd have to put on my jacket anyway to ski down. I figured that I'd get it out of the way and do it now. Being out of the wind and in the shelter of the snow covered trees was comforting. Zion sunk into the powder and expored the trees while I adjusted myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling better now we struck out to finish the mission. It didn't take long until we neared the top. We passed a lift to our left, skinned up a cat track that I recognized, and came to a spot that I knew would be the last wind protected section that we'd see. It was 7:12 and I still had a few minutes to complete my 2 hour goal, but I decided this would be a good place that was out of the wind to take off my skins and get ready to ski down. It was also all of a sudden plenty bright outside and I wanted to get off the mountain before anyone saw us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New to my tele setup, I tried taking a couple of dips with my legs. I could immediately feel the difference in the binding setting. Before my climb I had adjusted the setting so that it would be easier to climb. The difference when skiing is that there is less tension and therefore less holding your back leg in place. My ski felt pretty wobbly. I didn't really get the hang of it, my hands were pretty cold and my body was stiff from the hike. I just took it easy and glided down not worrying about making nice turns. Plus, I didn't really know where I was going so I was trying to pay attention to following the green circles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zion and I got on a roll. I was skiing along and Zion was expressing his full gate sprinting down the hill next to me. Usually, I'm standing still when Zion flies past me on a trail. I only ever get to experience a flash of lightening as he blows past me. Watching him now when I could feel the speed at which he ran and see him working next to me was absolutely incredible. It was like we were on the same team for once. We were out there together, side by side, feeling the wind blow past our faces and in the wild together. I felt at that moment a complete happiness, like we were in the same pack. It was such an amazing experience that I would love to have again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We turned the corner and I could see a snowmobiler riding up the hill towards us. He had his lights on still and he rode right up in front of me. I thought, oh crap, he's caught me. Yet at the same time, I had already accomplished what I wanted which was to skin up the hill. All I could do now was ski down. He said, be careful, there are still lots of cats out there grooming. I was shocked, and just said thank you. At this point, I was done. I wanted to get off the hill before causing any trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We skiied down a bit further and I could see that we weren't in the right place. I was looking around hoping that I was close enough to still ski over to Bear Mountain. As I looked around, I saw a little chipmunk crossing the wide open slope. It wasn't moving very fast and it still had a long way to get to where there would be trees for cover. In the same instant, I looked up at Zion who was already springing off his feet towards the little thing. It scrambled across the slope but was much too slow. Three bounds and Zion had caught it. They ended up just below a knoll and I couldn't see them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called Zion back, and of course he didn't come. Oh crap. I slid over the hill towards Zion, being careful to stay on top of it and not dropping too low. Yep, he had killed it. It was laying still right in the middle of the slope. I called Zion, come! I really didn't think he was going to walk away from his kill. So I gave it a lot of emphasis, and he looked up at me. Another time, and he motioned to walk away from it, but looked back at the dead animal. I called him again, hoping I could wrentch him away. Finally after a lot of hesiation, he actually walked away from it...always looking back and motioning that he wanted to return to it. I'm sure that the only reason he actually walked away was because he was already tired from the hike. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We skiied down to the right and it was clear that I ended up at K1 rather than bear. So I put Zion's leash on and rolled down to the lodge. The early birds were getting ready to take to the slopes and everyone looked up in admiration at Zion. Seeing a husky in the snow, and Zion in particular, makes most people smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I was freezing and rambled into the lodge hoping no one would kick me out. Luckily, my roomates answered the phone and agreed to come pick me up. Thank god for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Zion and I hung out waiting for them, I checked out a trail map. Although I had no idea where I was at the time, Zion and I were only 10 minutes away from the peak of the mountain. I was estatic. I had reached my goals of getting up early and climbing for two hours to reach the top, which I estimated to be about a 2000ft of vertical. I called my mom and dad to share the story with them and how amazing Zion looked while he was running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All morning I was bursting with happiness. By the time I got back to the house everyone was awake and I got to share the story with everyone. I drank ten cups of coffee and was exhausted but awake with caffeine. Finally in the afternoon I layed down to take a nap. I realized then how much the effort took out of me. Both Zion and I were very tired. But, it was all worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-7335438969476276416?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/7335438969476276416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/killington-report-skinning-expedition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7335438969476276416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7335438969476276416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/killington-report-skinning-expedition.html' title='Killington Report: Skinning Expedition'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1914780710928047751</id><published>2010-01-21T19:48:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T21:56:33.406-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CMSC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triathlon training'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='masters swim class'/><title type='text'>CMSC</title><content type='html'>Holy god, does my body ache. Between my shoulder blades is a constant tension and deep down hurt. It's a very strange sore that you get from swimming. Unlike running which produces an isolated soreness in your legs, swimming produces this deep tissue full body screaming ache. All day I ate with a vengeance to recover and I knew that no matter how much caffeeine I ingested it wouldn't help me wake up. So, I stopped after two cups of home brew and ate my way to recovery and back to my bed, where I'm laying now with a heat pad on my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow yesterday I found some inspiration and searched the internet for masters classes around the Boston area. I zero'd in on the Cambridge Swim Masters Club (CSMC) which looked like a pretty serious group with lots of classes. The pool is on the Harvard University campus and is touted to have cost 4 million to build. Upon arriving, I could see that this was probably true. The lanes are setup in 25 meter lanes and the length of the pool is 50 meters. I never realized how big this really was. It was absolutely huge. Thank god I don't reguarly look down a 2.4 mile lane and think about swimming that distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I showed up for the 7:30pm class and immediately met one of the team members on the way in. He showed me where to go and I felt more comfortable right away. Amazingly, I was early, which never happens, so I had plenty of time to look around and make sure I was in the right place. With plenty of time before the class started, I introduced myself to the coach Lauren, who was very friendly. She assured me that if I needed to sit out a set or leave early that I could and that class is very flexible. This worked out in my benefit when I got a cramp in my foot just after the warm up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The warm up was 400, 4x100, 2x50. 4x50 kick. 2 x the following set: 2x25 sprint, 2x50 desc 1-4 (which  I'm still not sure exactly what that means, except that I'm supposed to build in speed), 2x100 on base (maintain your fastest sustainable pace), 2x200 on base, 50 chill, all on 5-10 seconds rest. I got through about 2000m all together. My foot was cramping, which I think was due to wearing high heels and walking a fair distance in them to get to practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The swim felt great. It's amazing to me how fast the hour flies by when you're in class versus when you swim alone. The pool temperature was much cooler than the BSC, which I think is a good thing since it will prepare me for even cooler temps when I race. Also, people seemed to be very friendly. Overall, I'm so hapy that I went to class. It served as a huge wake up call to get in the damn pool and workout. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In summary, I'm so psyched I went and I realize that I need to continue to swim with a group, and probably run and bike with a group too. Luckily, it's still only January and heavy training doesn't start until March.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1914780710928047751?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.cambridgemasters.com/' title='CMSC'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1914780710928047751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/cmsc.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1914780710928047751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1914780710928047751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/cmsc.html' title='CMSC'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1830019070684727730</id><published>2010-01-13T19:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T20:25:53.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday River, Telemark Skiing, &amp; The Grizzly!</title><content type='html'>Let's start from the beginning. I took a break from Killington this weekend to spend some time with family in Sunday River. Apparently, my cousin is known as Tony Hawk at the Grizzly, currently known as Matterhorn Ski Bar. He has a stool with his name engraved in it, and I have a mug with my name on it. Party started...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, I take Zion for a snowshoe expedition. We went out for a couple of hours in the frigid cold. I hadn't even brought my skiis up with me because I'm so sick of skiing out here on packed ice. Zion and I wrap it up by noon and with nothing to do but putz, we found our way to a specialty tele store. This is where the story begins...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself in a little Mainard store with a true Mainard owner. We shoot the shit for a long time... he's been tele'ing for 18 years yata yata and eventually I give way and buy a tele setup. Atomic Khailas skiis 163, Scarpa T2 W's Eco boots, W's Hammerhead Bombshell bindings - hot pink. I walk out of there f'ing pumped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intermission from skiing, hot tub, the Grizzly...&lt;br /&gt;Jamie and I arrive at the Grizzly promptly after the kids were in bed. I'm at the bar with a shit eating grin on my face enjoying my new mug, #413, and one of Jamie's buddies comes up and snaps a photo of him. Stardom. JK. I'm 100% sober, still recovering from my Killington week. I run into one of my best buddies from high school - shoot the hizzy, hang out with the crew, roll to the Phoenix and dance the night away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning, alarm goes off... I hear screaming kids. I don't care because I have a new tele setup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We head to the mountain to hit up kids ski school by 9am. We forget Connor's helmet, back to house, back to mountain... get Abby's ticket... finally on the mountain. Jamie, Kim and I head to Dreammaker. This is when the fun hits...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy crap I had SO much fun tele-ing! I do not remember when the last time was that I had fun skiing on a green. And, I can remember the exact run that I had in the back bowls of Vail when I last enjoyed a groomer, and that was about 5 or 6 years ago. It's like a new joy for skiing flushed through my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is particularly joyful for me because in the last couple of years I was starting to lose some of my enjoyment for Alpine, which has baffled me. I couldn't pinpoint why that was. My theory is that I'm so used to skiing alpine that I need a powder day to feel the joy of it. When I got back here to the East Coast and started skiing on sheets of ice and groomers (if I was lucky), I realized that I really needed to do something else. On the contrary, I spent some weekends doing nothing and I also realized that doing nothing wasn't an option either. I had been batting around the idea of tele for a while and was only held back knowing that a new setup would cost some bucks. So, hats off to the Mainard who convinced me to go for it :-)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;About the gear - &lt;br /&gt;The skiis were great and I really liked how they held an edge. They were last year's model so the skiis cost $325, which I thought was a good deal. The bindings are the hot pink bombshell hammerheads. I found that they were very stiff when bending down and I can't even squatt on the ground to put the bindings on like I've seen other people do because they don't allow me to get that low. I'm wondering how hard it's going to be to climb in them but the guy pitched me on their versatility. He also showed me how there are different settings on them and he said if I move it up a notch then it will make it easier to climb. I'll find out on Saturuday... but as far as I can tell, moving the notch just puts pressure on the cable differently. It doesn't seem to give you more cable movement. I LOVE the boots! OMG... it was cold out this weekend, between 10-18 degrees, and my feet didn't get too cold! This could also be a result of me working harder on the runs which may have kept me warmer, but in general they are very comfortable. I am REALLY hoping that my skins fit on these skiis. My Kharhu Jills are 165s and these skiis are 163s.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, Jamie, Kim and I skiied for about an hour on the greens, which was awesome. We took a break and when I went out again I headed to the blues. I was skiing American Express which they had blown a ton of snow on overnight, so it was soft and awesome. I was having SO much fun! I can't remember the last time when my body felt that happy from skiing! It was funny because I was riding the lifts by myself and I was chatting with everyone going up the lifts and telling them how it was my second day out ever on Teles. The banter, and love, and joy was spilling out of me.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;In total I rode for about two hours, and that was enough. The guy at the shop told me to tuck my back knee into the front knee, so I don't think I was really bending that low. Mostly my right calf was feeling strained by the end of the day. I also found that I have a better transition when turning right to left rather than the other side. After a couple of hours I had to be like - ok, ready... set... turn! Haha, because I was getting tired. I can't believe how fun greens can be to ski!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I guess I just needed to change things up! I'm actually excited about going again this weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Expedition: Back to Killington. Make sure existing skins fit new skiis. Arrive at Bear Mtn at 5am (hardest part). Climb as much vert as possible by 7am, or 2000 ft to the peak. Enjoy sunrise, if there is one... or grey, cold, windy mountain. Remove skins and ski down! Zion will of course be there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1830019070684727730?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1830019070684727730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunday-river-telemark-skiing-grizzly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1830019070684727730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1830019070684727730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/sunday-river-telemark-skiing-grizzly.html' title='Sunday River, Telemark Skiing, &amp; The Grizzly!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1398152669184984895</id><published>2010-01-03T19:45:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T20:27:26.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Killington Report</title><content type='html'>After a full week of holiday partying at Killington, I am pleased to report that I actually went for a run and a swim tonight. When I got home I was still in my ski gear so it was easy to run outside and play with Zion for a minute. The frolicking in the snow got my blood pumping so I changed my shoes and took him for a spin around the lake. It was funny to me to be running with my ski pants on but my temperature was perfect. Zion was hilarious too. The sidewalk was bootpacked snow bordered with snow banks, so I ran on the sidewalk and gave Zion the nudge to run in the snow bank. As we ran along he was taking huge bounding leaps in the snow next to me. I wish I had a camera to film him. He's so happy in the snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back, Dad started talking about swimming and what his recent accomplishments of swimming 5 laps in a row without stopping. I felt so good from the run that I decided to head to the BSC for a swim. I counted off my 20 laps and logged 1000m with no stops. Right around 350 meters I felt a little sluggish, but as soon as I finished my 10th lap, or 500 meters, I felt awesome. After a full week of partying, I can't believe my body responded as well as it did. The run was almost like a trail run since my foot slipped back with each step in the snow and the swim felt like someone was scratching my back after a full day in ski clothes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my drive home from the pool I decided that I would start eating vegetarian again, and that would be my New Years resolution. With that, I stopped at Whole Foods and picked up a bunch of fruit, veggies, and fish. Of course I was starving by the time I got home, as I always seem to be after an evening swim, so I devoured the meal. But, right now I have a high and happy feeling for making the healthy choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the snow report. Killington was fun this week but very cold and very icey. It finally warmed up by Saturday, and boy that made all the difference. The trails that were open to the public were a sheet of ice with soft mogul piles clumped on the trail and everything that was closed was beautiful. On Saturday, we ducked the rope on Devil's Fiddle and my face lit up. It was like a whole new world. The snow was soft, there was no ice and there were large moguls, not like the little icey moguls that everyone loves here. These were the kind that you can ski big mountain style on. Despite there being a few uncovered rocks, which luckily I didn't hit, it felt like I was skiing the Hobacks in JH. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, the method of skiing on the icey trails was to skid sideways down the ice to the next pile of powder, then hit the mogul to slow down, and skid to the next mogul, and repeat. It was not fun at all. I'm realizing how much I knew about the mountains out west which I had been skiing for years. Here, I get screwed because I don't know how to access the woods or the trails with better snow because I've never explored. I have to really put in some time to learn my way around, otherwise every weekend up here is going to be a disapointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Snow Report&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Killington - insanely cold, negative degrees with the windshield, icey, frostbiten toe after 3 runs.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Pico - very cold, icey, skiied with Dary and Allie.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Killington - warm at 24 degrees, best ski day yet, rivalled out west.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Killington - very cold again, windy, sheets of ice. Even Bobsled Rich and Big Frank said the skiing sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Years Resolution&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat vegetarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Workout&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horn Pond - 30 min run with Zion in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;BSC Lexington - 1000 m swim (constant) and warm down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1398152669184984895?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1398152669184984895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/killington-report.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1398152669184984895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1398152669184984895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2010/01/killington-report.html' title='Killington Report'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1741370996666260050</id><published>2009-12-31T13:00:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:16:25.682-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='outlook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartbreak'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strength'/><title type='text'>Recovering from 2009</title><content type='html'>There are certain things that heal a broken heart. Support from friends who truly love you, dunks, and powder. I have two of three here in Boston. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 was one of the hardest years of my life. I turned 30, broke up with my live-in  boyfriend of 3.5 years, moved 2000 miles from the Rocky Mountains to Boston, and saw more business deals come and go without coming to fruition than ever before. In the heat of my heartbreak I saw my two best friends get engaged. Many times I trudged home from work with with tears screaming down my face. And yet I've felt my heart race again when I meet someone new. The anger, heart-break, and sadness still surface, but as Bella would say, the edges around my heart don't sting as much anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm sitting on the couch in our Vermont house, blogging, and watching the snow fall outside on top of our hot tub. Little daisy is curled up next to me and Dan's music mix is easing my hungover muscles. The last two days were cold, cold, cold. My big toe turned black with frostbite and stung like a mo'fo when it thawed. Dary came up and skiied with me yesterday. We found one run with some powder, but otherwise I was negotiating ice on my butterknife powder skiis, which clearly don't help me much out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm sold on Boston. Coming back was a bit of an experiment. The intention was to come back for 5 months and then decide to stay or go back. Zion is happier here. I get great fulfillment from hanging out with my parents, Gia, Jodi, and Jamie's family. It was a rough year at work, but at least I sit in the same office as Nate again and look out our huge bay windows onto the Back Bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I get to wish away 2009 and hope for a better 2010. It's going to be cold in Boston and come March I'll be training for the Ironman. I certainly didn't let myself rest by signing up for that. It should serve as the greatest test of my strength - physically, mentally, and emotionally. Every day that I train, I think about how the strains of life take so much from my outer shell, but I feel so powerful from within. It's like there is an inner strength that is telling me how ready I am to do this, how strong I am, and how I've never had more strength in my life than right now. Frankly, I know exactly what that strength is meant for and it's not for IM, but that is where I'm going to direct it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart of crying out for just one thing, but as Jodi says, I have another couple of months before I'll be ready for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1741370996666260050?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1741370996666260050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/12/recovering-from-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1741370996666260050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1741370996666260050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/12/recovering-from-2009.html' title='Recovering from 2009'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-1565350956066693863</id><published>2009-11-13T18:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T19:05:12.869-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peeing on the Bus</title><content type='html'>I'm riding on the megabus from Boston to NYC, and during my first pit stop of the night, I was quickly reminded of how lucky men are when in need of peeing on a bus. Firstly, and perhaps the most important point, they don't have to sit down or hover. This becomes critically important when riding on a sub-standard bus, such as the Fung Wah, aka the bus that transports dead bodies from Boston to NY, or when riding in any third world country bus. The problem, is that the seat height and further back than normal placement of the bowl make it nearly impossible to hover, especially if you are average height, such as myself. So if there are complications in the bano, such as pee on the seat or worse, defecation, then you are f'ed. Defecation you ask? Yes, I have seen this. In fact, the situation was so grim, that I had to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; On a 20 hour cross country ride from Merida, Venezuela to Playa Colorada, I had to pee. There would not be a stop for hours, so I check out the bano. I'm not kidding when I say that there was shit splattered on every single wall of the bano. So, I did what anyone would, nearly wretch and return to my seat. Now an hour has gone by, and another hour... I have got to pee. I knew it was just a matter of time before I had to face the shit splattered bano again. So I return to the bano for a second recon mission to see if a pee would be possible. Needless to say, there were no tools to help the situation, and I mean obvious ones like toilet paper, running water with soap... These nice to haves don't exist in Venezuela. I return to the crime scene and It was just as dyer as how I remembered it. Shit everywhere, on the walls, seat, floor, everywhere. So I did what any person would do who had already seen it all and experienced it all (at this point I had been working and living in Venezuela for 3 months). I held my breath, grabbed the oh shit handle, and unable to back up far enough to hover over the bowl (due to shit on seat and further than normal back placement of the bowl) I peed all over myself. Yep, that's right, i peed all over myself. Elated that I had peed and hadn't gotten shit on myself, I returned to my seat with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the point, it is much easier to be equipped like a man when in need of peeing on a bus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-1565350956066693863?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/1565350956066693863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/11/peeing-on-bus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1565350956066693863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/1565350956066693863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/11/peeing-on-bus.html' title='Peeing on the Bus'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-4765038324198163365</id><published>2009-10-29T11:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T11:35:49.681-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I dream of Colorado</title><content type='html'>I had my first dream of Colorado last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed that I was riding up the gondola at Beaver Creek. It was fall and the sun was warm but the grass was still brilliantly green, which is rare in Colorado due to the dryness. There were Christmas trees with wreaths on them and snow high in the mountains. The colors were magnificent. As I rode up the mountain I was crying and laughing at the same time. Crying because it was so beautiful and I was sad that I didn’t live there anymore, and laughing because I am happy that I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been turbulent since I have returned to Boston. Being single again after nearly four years in a relationship is a big adjustment. At first I was angry, then sad, then I wanted to “start a fight” – not literally, but more like the way Pink sings about her breakup in the song “So What.” Only in the last couple of weeks do I feel that my heart isn’t being held together with stitches and ready to sink or explode at any negative thought or comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel stronger, although I don’t know why. I have plenty of things to look forward to, including my half share at Killington where I’ll be spending many weekends with friends. I’ve also been travelling a lot with work lately, which gets me out of the stimulus of Boston. Where I go from here, I really don’t know. Deep down I still want to be in the mountains tromping along in fluffy powder with Zion. I reminisce of spending time at Bent Gate looking at the gear with anticipation of the snowflakes to come. I dream of cold cozy winters, hut trips, sitting by the fireside with coffee and watching the snow fall. And I long for someone who enjoys the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/?action=view&amp;current=huttrip.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i615.photobucket.com/albums/tt233/Absporter/huttrip.jpg" border="0" alt="Hut trip,Vail Pass"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whose woods these are I think I know.&lt;br /&gt;His house is in the village though;&lt;br /&gt;He will not see me stopping here&lt;br /&gt;To watch his woods fill up with snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little horse must think it queer&lt;br /&gt;To stop without a farmhouse near&lt;br /&gt;Between the woods and frozen lake&lt;br /&gt;The darkest evening of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gives his harness bells a shake&lt;br /&gt;To ask if there is some mistake.&lt;br /&gt;The only other sound's the sweep&lt;br /&gt;Of easy wind and downy flake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woods are lovely, dark and deep.&lt;br /&gt;But I have promises to keep,&lt;br /&gt;And miles to go before I sleep,&lt;br /&gt;And miles to go before I sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-4765038324198163365?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/4765038324198163365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dreamed-of-colorado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4765038324198163365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4765038324198163365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dreamed-of-colorado.html' title='I dream of Colorado'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-524562560420755564</id><published>2009-08-04T21:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T21:48:37.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2000 Miles</title><content type='html'>After 2000 miles of driving I have arrived in Winchester, MA! I put in two huge days. I stopped along the way for a midday run on both big days which saved me and Zion from going insane. We stopped at KU and at a state park off the highway in Ohio where we could swim in Lake Erie. Luckily I was able to find a Barnes and Noble off the highway in Columbus and picked up the last Harry Potter book on CD. This sufficiently distracted me for the entire drive on Monday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Rocks to Oakley, KS - 4 hours&lt;br /&gt;Oakley, KS to the East side of Indianapolis - 16 hours&lt;br /&gt;Indianapolis to Saratoga, NY - 16 hours&lt;br /&gt;Saratoga, NY to Boston - 4 hours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here now my knees are sweating while sitting still - which is totally strange. I can't dry off! I grabbed a graham cracker from an open box and found it to be soggy from the humidity. So, I waited until it cooled off a bit and went for my first Winchester run, which was about 5 miles. Here's the route:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=Winchesterrundetail8409.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/Winchesterrundetail8409.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I'm going to hang out with my old friend Pick. I'm looking forward to a beer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-524562560420755564?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/524562560420755564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/08/2000-miles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/524562560420755564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/524562560420755564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/08/2000-miles.html' title='2000 Miles'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-536455676716243259</id><published>2009-07-17T11:38:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T11:47:59.445-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wisco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harry Potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dunks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='5430 Boulder Peak'/><title type='text'>Wisco, Dunks, and Harry</title><content type='html'>Chris and I are in Wisco for Steve Cramey's wedding. Today is a lucky day for me because I get to drink my beloved Dunks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=dunks.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/dunks.jpg" border="0" alt="Dunks"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, I get to watch the newest release of Harry Potter. Could life get much better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick recap on last weeks tri - the 5430 Peak. It was a blast. I did it in about 3 hours 19 min. I was secretly competing against a new friend and happily came out of the water 10 seconds faster, but got smoked on the bike. I need to get in more miles on the road and I also need a new bike. I'm interested in the Specialized Ruby Expert  and I've learned that it is the hottest bike of the year...so no good discounts. It will be a month or two before I can save up to buy a new ride but I'm super excited to do it! I want to get a new bike, start training properly, and sign up for another event in a couple of months and see how I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=running.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/running.jpg" border="0" alt="5430 Peak"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-536455676716243259?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/536455676716243259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/07/wisco-dunks-and-harry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/536455676716243259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/536455676716243259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/07/wisco-dunks-and-harry.html' title='Wisco, Dunks, and Harry'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-7047807994800345695</id><published>2009-04-17T16:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T16:55:07.974-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Cheese Sticks Look SO Good!</title><content type='html'>You have to be kidding me, I looked up on Google Images "Mozzarella Cheese Sticks" and a smörgåsbord of delicious looking fried cheese sticks comes up. The thing that I miss the most is definitely CHEESE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCREW SOY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really, I'm still eating vegan, but the non-dairy part sucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-7047807994800345695?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.highlinerschool.com/images/mozzsticks.gif' title='Those Cheese Sticks Look SO Good!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/7047807994800345695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/04/those-cheese-sticks-look-so-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7047807994800345695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7047807994800345695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/04/those-cheese-sticks-look-so-good.html' title='Those Cheese Sticks Look SO Good!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-4673541270939776469</id><published>2009-04-12T13:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T14:20:21.288-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the China Study'/><title type='text'>Going Vegan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=chinastudy.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/chinastudy.jpg" border="0" alt="China Study"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago, at the height of my conference binge, I decided to wean myself off the beer and fat and go vegetarian. Since then, I've been reading a book called The China Study, by T. Colin Campbell, PhD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China Study tells us that we can avoid and reverse heart disease, diabetes, obesity, cancer, and many other familiar diseases by eating a whole foods, plant based diet sans dairy, fish or animal products. The book is NOT a diet book. It is scientific and the studies they site are extremely compelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year around this time I also subscribed to a vegan diet as a means for detoxing my body, inspired by the book Skinny Bitch (kick ass book for anyone). The tone of the book was hard hitting and hilarious, but the reasoning that they used for one to eat vegan wasn't as long lasting as the information in China Study. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of the main points in China Study so far are: &lt;br /&gt;- Animal protein advances the formation of cancer. In contrast, by eating a whole foods, plant based diet sans dairy or animal meat including fish, we can nearly halt the development of cancer. &lt;br /&gt;- Heart disease is caused by high blood cholesterol, which is created by our bodies by ingesting animal food. We can avoid and reverse heart disease through a vegan diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't planning on going vegan a couple of weeks ago. I thought I'd just ease into this with a vegetarian diet. But, the further I get into this book the more motivated I am to eat vegan. This morning I had pancakes without milk or eggs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am feeling great and I'm looking forward to getting my blood tested to see what my cholesterol is now vs in a few months from now after eating vegan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next book up is Thrive, which talks about eating Vegan as an athlete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-4673541270939776469?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.thechinastudy.com/about.html' title='Going Vegan'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/4673541270939776469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/04/going-vegan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4673541270939776469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4673541270939776469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/04/going-vegan.html' title='Going Vegan'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-3713248918174079143</id><published>2009-03-31T00:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T01:10:16.151-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hotel Critic</title><content type='html'>I'm going on my third week in a row of being on the road. Drinking, eating, and no exercise has driven me to this point. Now, I'm laying in sheets that don't compare to the Westin's white fluffy heavenly bedding, yet I'm here with a refreshed outlook. I'm committing to new minimum standards, 1. eating vegetarian, and 2. at least 20 minutes of exercise a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my flight to Atlanta tonight I sat next to a self proclaimed Schizophrenic. According to http://counsellingresource.com, &lt;a href="http://counsellingresource.com/distress/schizophrenia/dsm/schizoaffective.html"&gt;symptoms&lt;/a&gt; include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a Major Depressive Episode,&lt;br /&gt;- a Manic Episode, or&lt;br /&gt;- a Mixed Episode&lt;br /&gt;- delusions&lt;br /&gt;- hallucinations&lt;br /&gt;- disorganized speech (e.g., frequent derailment or incoherence)&lt;br /&gt;- grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior&lt;br /&gt;- negative symptoms, i.e., affective flattening, alogia, or avolition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only one symptom is required if delusions are bizarre or hallucinations consist of a voice keeping up a running commentary on the person's behavior or thoughts, or two or more voices conversing with each other."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me many things about her life including deaths in her family, how she found her birth mother since she was adopted, her marriage, her divorce, her illness, her age, her and her boyfriend's income, her smoking addiction and recovery habits, her religious views, and her plans to move west. At the end of the conversation (which I had to preemptively cut off since I think she would have enjoyed talking with me all night) she reached over and put her hand on my arm and said in an asking way, "at some point in your life, accept God... and make it soon. I like you, I want to see you in Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her plea for me to follow God didn't go far but I did relate to her in the sense that she believes in something strongly, and I believe in other things strongly. These values, different for everyone, form the foundation of our lives, our balance, and serenity. For me, I believe in all parts equal. The parts that I believe must be strong for a person to feel whole, in not such an exact way, are love, eating, health, exercise, work, inspiration and stimulation. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and I believe in spirituality in an undefined way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not upset that she asked me to follow God. I could easily ask someone to eat Vegetarian. I ask people to join me to compete in triathlon events all the time. The point being, people spread news about the things they care about most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I'm going to further my following of Vegetarianism tonight by reading &lt;a href="http://www.thechinastudy.com/about.html"&gt;China Study&lt;/a&gt;, and suggest that you read it too ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-3713248918174079143?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.omnihotels.com/FindAHotel/AtlantaCNNCenter.aspx' title='Hotel Critic'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/3713248918174079143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/hotel-critic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3713248918174079143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3713248918174079143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/hotel-critic.html' title='Hotel Critic'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-7283962625590109427</id><published>2009-03-28T15:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T15:37:30.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GDC, not Jackson Hole</title><content type='html'>Another year at Game Developer's Conference (GDC) has come and gone. People always say, "Wow, there must be so many nerds there", or "How many guys hit on you tonight." It is true that there are mostly guys at this conference and some are stereotypical of gamers... well actually everyone is a gamer... but, everyone is not a nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The business of gaming is pretty neat- mostly because everyone is passionate about what they are doing and because the business is quite complex. If you're not in it, then you don't know who is a publisher, who is a distributer, who is a developer or who is a producer. You wouldn't know that being in Developer Relations is like being in that old Tom Hanks movie "Big." And, you wouldn't know that most people at these events are very cool and very fun to hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are however a few things that are annoying about GDC. Firstly, you will never meet more 20 something year olds who call themselves "C-Level." And on the same note, they all claim to have been brought into the company to "help clean it up." In other corporate businesses, you won't find people talking about stuff like that unless they are successful, older, and typically in VC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, and perhaps due to the over-concentration of people who spend most of their time interacting with avatars, you will have far more guys who come in a little hot. Meaning, they try to act funny by saying something extremely crass (and most of the time they actually get away with it!?), or, they'll have one of their gaming buddies advance you and start with the line "see my buddy over there, he is so cool, seriously, he's the man." Meanwhile, the buddy is slobbering drunk and sitting across the table from you unable to understand much English, since he just flew in from France... or someplace else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the stories above are true. Luckily, these scenarios are offset but running into familiar faces. I was so pleased to see my friends Sumi, Gabe, Adriano, Scott, Stephane, and Jeremy. You will always run into the same people time and time again at game conferences, which makes these events akin to visiting family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, the conference was successful. I got to meet with prospects from all over the world including the UK, Germany, Madrid, and California. The more that I get to kabitz with gamers, the better I start to understand the business. There are so many neat things to do and be a part of within the world of gaming, that "hanging out with nerds" is much more fun than it sounds ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-7283962625590109427?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.gdconf.com/' title='GDC, not Jackson Hole'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/7283962625590109427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/gdc-not-jackson-hole.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7283962625590109427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7283962625590109427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/gdc-not-jackson-hole.html' title='GDC, not Jackson Hole'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-7475539857874705624</id><published>2009-03-23T01:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T01:07:24.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Simply</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=livesimply.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/livesimply.jpg" border="0" alt="Live Simply"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life in Jackson Hole in a word is simple. Get up, go to the mountain, ski, drink beer, go to bed. It was so nice to be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at Chris’s CEO’s house in Driggs, which is just over the Pass from Wyoming. Equivalent being Carbondale to Aspen, except in Jackson there is a huge Pass in between the resort and the house which can be gnarly on a winter dump day. Luckily for us, the drive was easy. It was warm when we arrived and progressively got warmer as the week went on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived late Saturday night, or actually early in the morning. So on Sunday we lounged around the huge mountain home retreat all day long. It was so relaxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday and Tuesday we skied Jackson Hole Mountain Resort. It was super fun to show Chris the mountain, and luckily I remembered it very well so it was easy to find the powder stashes. We followed this by a day in the backountry, a day at Targhee, and a snow-shoe adventure in the park. Here are the details:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JH, First Day Runs – Tram to Rendezvous Bowl &amp; down the Hobacks; Gondola to Thunder Lift, from there down the Grand, skiers right through the trees. Gondala to skiers left cut through the woods to mid Casper Bowl. Up Casper lift, skiers right traverse over to Moran Woods, quick side step up around a special rock which once you’re over it opens up to totally untracked goodies. From there down to Apres Vous, and up to Saratoga Bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JH, Second Day Runs – Gondola to the Headwall, we bootpacked up the stairway with Julie. This was pretty tough since we were shouldering our skies, and the steepness on the way up was a bit nerve-wracking. From there we skied down the Crags, which was absolutely beautiful and filled with deep untouched snow. Tram to Rendezvous Bowl, cut left to go down North facing side of Laramie Bowl. We did this a couple of times. Also, we skied the Thunder lift and hit the mogul fields lookers right. &lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day we headed to the shop Julie works in to check out the boots. When the guy went to take my liner out, my whole boot cracked in half! So, I bought a nice new pair of Atomic, a well overdue purchase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teton Pass, Third Day – We hiked the South side of the Pass over to Edelweiss Bowl. It was pretty easy to get there and the snow was absolutely awesome once we arrived. See pic below, our tracks are the obvious large ones lookers right of middle (not down the nose). This was probably our best backcountry day yet. The run continues down another slope making it well worth the skin in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;current=Edelweiss.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/Edelweiss.jpg" border="0" alt="Edelweiss Bowl"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JH, Fourth Day – We celebrated with Nate for his 25th birthday on the slopes. Also, I got to pick up my new setup (new boots adjusted to the binding and skis). When I arrived, Weldon says… Abby, Abby, Abby… we gotta talk about these skis… then he showed me that the core of my ski is basically splitting away from the metal, which means a new ski purchase in my future. &lt;br /&gt;Highlights were skiing lookers right of Expert Shutes, hiking up Pepi’s Bench to hit the top of Casper Bowl, and skiing Alta Shute #1, just to prove that we could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Targhee, Fifth Day – Wholly crap I was tired. We didn’t even start skiing until 1pm. The temps were high and we were skiing in just a tee shirt. We did climb up the Peaked Mountain where the Cat skiing is, but once we got to the top we found out that there was a big mountain competition for teens, which prevented us from dropping into the nice North facing slope. Chris continued to hike up though and caught some nice turns down the face. I was so tired that I just sat in the snow and took a video of him coming down. After that, I was cooked. I was so tired that I had to stop while on the Cat Track to take a break!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teton National Park, Taggert Lake, Sixth Day – We were tempted to climb up to Edelweiss again, but considering that our quads were near explosion quality the day before, we decided to head into the park to catch some views of the Tetons. We definitely lucked out on weather and views. With just a short show-shoe journey into the Taggert Lake area we got awesome views of the Grand, the Middle, Owen, and South. On the way out we drove into the Elk Refuge and saw thousands of Elk, pretty neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip was totally awesome. Every day we had great turns, lots of beers, too much red meat, and huge tired grins on our faces. I ran into lots of old ski buddy friends, which was really neat. I can’t believe they’re all still there, 5 years later for me, and 7 to 8 for most of them. It does make me wonder if I should have left at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next year Jackson Hole, I do love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing out from my white and fluffy Westin Hotel bed in San Fran - awaiting the start of another Game Developers Conference week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-7475539857874705624?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/livesimply.jpg' title='Live Simply'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/7475539857874705624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/live-simply.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7475539857874705624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/7475539857874705624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/live-simply.html' title='Live Simply'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6350054691769060730</id><published>2009-03-12T19:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T19:22:56.439-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mouse in the House</title><content type='html'>I don't know that I've experienced anything as disgusting as this in a while. So, we've been having mice in the house recently. They started in the garage... no big deal. We put a trap out and caught 7 in one night. Right now, there is one hanging out in the trap, probably happily eating the peanut butter and dog food that lured it there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of nights ago, I was having a very normal Abby craving, cake. I'm mixing up the cake batter, switch the oven on, and buzzing around the kitchen with a grin on my face. As usual, for late, the oven is smoking as it is heating up, and today... it just smells worse then usual. So, in my energetic mood I open the oven and look harder than usual to see what the heck is making it stink so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a panel at the bottom of the oven with only an inch opening on either side to look into. This panel made it a feat just to look into the bottom of the oven. So, I'm kneeling down, head nearly to the floor to get a good angle, and I saw it. What looked to be a blackened, fuzzy, clump of dead mouse at the bottom of the oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god. I couldn't believe it. I call my dad, call my boyfriend, and the landlord to share the story. No one was around to help me, so I meander over to Cory's house (next door neighbor who is conveniently a maintenance guy). Naturally, he's disgusted but mostly laughing at me and my story. Somehow however I got him to offer his assistance to dismantle the oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're sitting in front of the oven unscrewing the bottom panel. I'm getting nervous since I'm about to see the thing. Anyway, Cory removed the panel to reveal a black clump of burnt ashes and fur, as well as a lot of mouse poop. Gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst was over. We vacuumed out the oven, scrubbed everything down, and reassembled the oven. When I went to cook in it later (and yes I cooked in it later), there was no smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story is, if you smell something or if your oven is smoking more than usual. Investigate and clean it! Otherwise, you can fantasize about the taste of smoked mouse and poop on your food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6350054691769060730?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6350054691769060730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/mouse-in-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6350054691769060730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6350054691769060730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/mouse-in-house.html' title='Mouse in the House'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-6995226383163610050</id><published>2009-03-04T19:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:41:56.244-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw yet another pro triathlete today!</title><content type='html'>Yet another pro triathlete has moved to Boulder! I was in the locker room this morning after my morning swim with Mike Ricci's class and I see Julie Dibens, 2 time winner of Maui Xterra! I nearly asked her if it was her, but then I heard her speak and knew that the answer was yes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I checked out her racing schedule and first off let me say that it is brutal. She's racing every two weeks. But on a fun note, she'll be racing the 5430 Peak and Long Course! That was really cool to see since those events feel intimate since every triathlete in the Boulder area participates. Of course, the only time I might see her would be in passing prior to the race or when she laps me on the bike. But hey, I'm excited!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-6995226383163610050?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.juliedibens.com/' title='I saw yet another pro triathlete today!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/6995226383163610050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-saw-yet-another-pro-triathlete-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6995226383163610050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/6995226383163610050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-saw-yet-another-pro-triathlete-today.html' title='I saw yet another pro triathlete today!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-4399142091780740836</id><published>2009-03-02T19:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T19:54:20.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dary Passed INDOC Today!!</title><content type='html'>My little brother Dary passed INDOC today! INDOC, or Indoctrination, is the first of many sessions that comprise the 2 year training program in the Air Force. Dary is training to become a PJ, who is the guy they call to jump out of a helicopter and rescue men on the ground. This was an 8 week session with weekly tests. 80+ guys started, and at this moment, 8 have passed all the tests. Another 10 have a final chance to pass the tests they failed next week.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dary accomplished today: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 100% on his mental test&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 6 mile run in 40:33 min. This had to be done within 44 min.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 19 pull ups in 1 min. The goal was at least 13 pullups.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 84 situps in 2 min. The goal was at least 75.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 80 pushups in 2 min. The goal was at least 70.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 4000 meters of finning (fins on and your can't use your hands) in 72 min. The goal was to do this within 80 minutes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- 50 meter swim underwater.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Go underwater with all your gear on and tie certain knots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next up? He's moving on to deep sea diving class!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-4399142091780740836?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/4399142091780740836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/dary-passed-indoc-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4399142091780740836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4399142091780740836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/03/dary-passed-indoc-today.html' title='Dary Passed INDOC Today!!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-38008004129559905</id><published>2009-02-24T20:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T20:20:01.706-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Race Calendar'/><title type='text'>Race Calendar 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;April 19, Desert RATS Trail Running, 5M Fruita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.active.com/page/Event_Details.htm?event_id=1676068&amp;amp;assetId=c977046b-6a33-4f9a-bb15-a810b0ca8611"&gt;http://www.active.com/page/Event_Details.htm?event_id=1676068&amp;amp;assetId=c977046b-6a33-4f9a-bb15-a810b0ca8611&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 23, Sage Burner 25k Gunnison &lt;a href="http://www.western.edu/sageburner/"&gt;http://www.western.edu/sageburner/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;July 12, 5430 Peak &lt;a href="http://5430sports.com/peak.htm"&gt;http://5430sports.com/peak.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aug 9, 5430 Long Course &lt;a href="http://5430sports.com/5430long.htm"&gt;http://5430sports.com/5430long.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sept 26, Big Sur Trail Marathon &lt;a href="http://www.envirosports.com/events/event.php?eventid=2636"&gt;http://www.envirosports.com/events/event.php?eventid=2636&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-38008004129559905?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.fmylife.com/' title='Race Calendar 2009'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/38008004129559905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/race-calendar-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/38008004129559905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/38008004129559905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/race-calendar-2009.html' title='Race Calendar 2009'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-4732154454196576361</id><published>2009-02-24T20:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T23:50:45.637-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big sur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trail marathon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abigail porter'/><title type='text'>Big Sur Trail Marathon</title><content type='html'>After hours of searching every race calendar on the web, Chris and I finally picked our big race of the year. I'm pretty excited to say that it will be the Big Sur Trail Marathon, on Sept 26.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trail running is something that Chris introduced me to a couple of years ago. Prior to knowing him, I understood trails to exist for hiking, not running! Everytime we went, I had a great time... but that doesn't exactly mean that I ran the whole time :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm psyched to work on my uphill running strength. This should be a whole new challenge for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Watch out Chatauqua!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-4732154454196576361?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.envirosports.com/events/event.php?eventid=2636' title='Big Sur Trail Marathon'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/4732154454196576361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-sur-trail-marathon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4732154454196576361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4732154454196576361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-sur-trail-marathon.html' title='Big Sur Trail Marathon'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-4369912058846678625</id><published>2009-02-24T19:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T20:00:34.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I saw Chrissie Wellington!</title><content type='html'>While I was pathetically at the gym to do a few push ups and situps, I walked by Simon Lessing's usual indoor cycling class and who do I see but Kona winner Chrissie Wellington! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After reading about her in every publication of Triathlon Magazine for the last year, to see her in person was awesome. She is totally ripped. After sending a note to the BTC to inform everyone of her visit to Boulder, I learned that she will be training with Simon at the FAC all summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to meet her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-4369912058846678625?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.chrissiewellington.org/pages/index.asp' title='I saw Chrissie Wellington!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/4369912058846678625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-saw-chrissie-wellington.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4369912058846678625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/4369912058846678625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-saw-chrissie-wellington.html' title='I saw Chrissie Wellington!'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-926127727069619756</id><published>2008-12-21T21:29:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T23:04:52.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walter's Cabin, Shrine Mountain Inn</title><content type='html'>Chris and I just got back from our first hut trip of the winter! We chose Walter's Cabin, one of the three at Shrine Mountain Inn on Vail Pass. As it turned out,  just a couple of weeks after booking for this past weekend, Dec 20th, we asked my family to do a hut trip with us for Christmas. If you've ever done a hut trip, you know that these types of trips can be very to extremely challenging. Since this hut is the easiest on the circuit (2.7 miles from the trailhead and very well marked with little elevation gain) we booked neighboring hut Jay's for Christmas. Needless to say, this trip turned into a bit of a recon mission.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saturday, Dec 20th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We left Boulder at 9am and were at the Vail Pass trailhead by 11am. The snowmobilers were out with a force but luckily there is a road designated for them and a well marked trail for the backcountry skiers and showshoers. The temperature was near zero and the wind was ripping across the ridge. I later learned that is was negative 30 with windshield. With hand warmers and feet warmers I was fine until about an hour in when my circulation gave way and my hands froze. It seems that as I get older the colder I get and the more painful the experience becomes. I blame all the years of skiing and freezing on the side of East Coast mountains, like at north facing Wildcat Mountain in NH...perhaps the coldest place on earth. Luckily Chris came to the rescue, as he always seems to, and gave me his awesomely warm Himilayan gloves. About 30 seconds after that he decided to substitute out his already purchased gift with a women's pair of these same gloves for Christmas!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps the coolest part about our two and a half hour ski into the hut was seeing three ptarmigan birds. They look like fat white doves. We took a couple of pictures, then our camera froze. They scampered off and we faced the winds again. Even though this route is extremely straight forward, I will admit that I was glad to reach the hut when we did. With these low temps and wind, here's my gear recap:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gear &lt;/span&gt;- from head to toe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Burlemaster (fully covered head and face mask)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Volcom winter hat with huge pom pom (good steez factor)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pink googles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Capilene long sleeve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;R1 fleece&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Montbell micropuffy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arcteryx shell (with hood on!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thin socks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;R1 capilene pants&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second layer Isis pants&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mammut ski pants&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hand and feet warmers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Karhu Jils&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dynafit bindings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;G3 skins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ski poles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Osprey backpack with a few extra items inside including food, extra socks, bivy sac, LL Bean Wicked Good Slippers, and my new REI polartec stretch fleece to hang out in at the hut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Ok ok, I included some brand names in my description. It has taken me nearly 3 years to accumulate these items and I figure that I may as well be proud and loud! Secondly, I have learned the HARD way that not having gear that actually works is uncomfortable and pretty much sucks. This feeling becomes exagerated when you have a boyfriend who is not spitefully saying..."Wow babe, I'm so sorry that you're cold, wet, blue and shaking. I am perfectly dry because my gear is bomber." This statement, heard on multiple trips, has led to large REI dividends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(REI gives members 10% of what they spent over the last year as cash towards any purchase in March every year.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back to the trip recap. The wind was in our face and my burlemaster was completely frozen around my mouth. I must have had a gaper gap on my left cheek because I could feel the frost bite forming. It wasn't pleasant but soon enough we took at sharp left into the trees where we were protected once more. There are three huts at Shrine Mountain Inn called Jay's, Chuck's, and Walter's. Between Jay's and Chuck's there is a wood powered sauna. Just past Chuck's there is a year round hut attendant named Sheri who has lived there in her yurt for the past 7 years with her three dogs and previously with a boyfriend. She was changing the towels in our hut (changing the towels?!? more on that soon...) when we met her and her dogs on the trail. She was super friendly and not strange as you might imagine someone to be who lives full time on the top of a gnarly and wintery pass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were told that these huts were 5 star compared to other huts, but wow, were these 5 star. This hut had running water that is drinkable, a gas burning stove with a thermometer, oriental rugs, full size beds with covers and pillows, a shower, electricity, and a hut attendant who changes out towels every three days. The hut, as they all are, was beautiful with 2 feet wide tree trunk rafters and huge windows, which at this point showed off the howling winds and white out conditions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were greeted by two ladies who also live in Boulder named Toni and Laura. Toni is a "recovering" commune living Hindu who spent the last 13 years meditating for 6 hours a day and hopping around like a frog attempting to achieve levitation. Laura is an MD who spent 10 years in the military in flight rescue. Their backgrounds alone gave us a night time worth of conversation, which we spent cheerfully over our naglenes of red wine. The wind blew all night and temperatures dropped to negative 11 outside, but we spent the night toasty inside our mountain retreat and intoxicated with good conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just before 7am Chris and I woke up to the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen. The weather had cleared and the view from the hut is of Copper Mountain and the 10 Mile Mountain range beyond it. The snow capped peaks glowed peach, pink, and orange. We were so thankful to have clear skies that the sunrise was that much more wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that is pretty much it! We ate breakfast, cleaned up, packed our bags and headed out. The air was calm and we could actually see the mountains today. We got out in about an hour, talked to some snowmobilers and hit the road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Take Aways&lt;/span&gt; - Bring warm gloves and extra hand and feet warmers. For the unexpected nice day when your goggles fog up on your noggin, bring sunglasses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-926127727069619756?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.huts.org/hut_details/shrine_hut_details.html' title='Walter&apos;s Cabin, Shrine Mountain Inn'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/926127727069619756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2008/12/walters-cabin-shrine-mountain-inn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/926127727069619756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/926127727069619756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2008/12/walters-cabin-shrine-mountain-inn.html' title='Walter&apos;s Cabin, Shrine Mountain Inn'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980939223805224555.post-3221961400517974456</id><published>2008-08-11T11:14:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T13:34:31.472-04:00</updated><title type='text'>5430 Long Course Race Report</title><content type='html'>If you had asked any competitor how they felt about the upcoming 5430 Long Course, each would say - it's going to be hot.  The res is notorious for providing no shelter from the sun.  Barry, the race director, warns competitors that the course is "exposed" and to stay hydrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All month Boulder has been blistering hot.  During workouts it has felt like every ray of the sun was aimed directly at us.  Strangely, last Monday the clouds rolled in over the Flatirons and gave us a few rain showers.  The effect cooled Boulder down 25 degrees, but the question still loomed, will this last for race day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse123.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse123.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday August 10th the Boulder Reservoir teamed with competitors.  Hot air balloons filled the sky and the Flatirons branded the place as distinctly Boulder.  With little time to waste I racked my bike, grabbed my wetsuit and headed to the water.  I was in the third wave, which gave me a 20 minute lead over my boyfriend, brother, and other friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse138.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse138.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse152.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse152.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swim - Looking out at the course,  the sun was so low that it was impossible to see the buoys.  Based on the aggressive stroke &amp;amp; stride competitions every Thursday night, I decided to line up to the right and in the back of the other girls.  This turned out to be a bit stupid as I felt like I was climbing over the other swimmers and running into people the whole time.  I must have stopped at least 8 times to paddle away from  swimmers who cut sideways across my path or to avoid a heal in the face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall the swim felt amazing.  I kept thinking, all of my training all summer has led to this.  It's here, race day is here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rounded the last yellow buoy and headed for shore.  The crowd was awesome and the sand was lined deeply with fans.  I saw my mom and our friend Sarah cheering me on.  I was out in 44 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse176.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse176.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T1 took forever - nearly 5 minutes.  I don't know what the heck I was doing but I took my time, clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bike - I've ridden the course many times  and knew what to expect.  My strategy was to ride Jay Road and 75th in my aero bars or in the drops and to ride 36 and St Vrain in the hoods.  I had only put my aero bars on earlier in the week so I certainly wasn't ready to ride down the fast St Vrain in them, or up and down the hills on 36.  Overall I stayed low for nearly the whole ride, which was awesome.  Kaustub passed me coming out of the res, I saw Diana on Jay cheering us on, I saw Andy Chernaik &amp;amp; Alex Parillo somewhere on Jay Rd (passing me), Dary, my brother, at the turn around on 65th, and my boyfriend Chris George on the second loop.  Towards the end of the loop at the Niwot intersection I saw my Mom.  I was having a blast on the ride and it was super fun to see so many people I knew.  After all the tapering over the past week, exercising never felt better.  Plus, the cloud covered stayed for the whole ride!  It was cool out!  I finished the ride 25 minutes faster than expected in 3:27.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse224.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse224.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T2 - Again, this took forever, this time I used the bano before moving on, nearly 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run - I was happy to be out of the saddle, but I knew this was the hard part.  My goal was to run each mile and walk through the aid stations.  The first couple of miles were hot and hilly.  I found that dumping cold water on my head gave me great relief and a boost in focus.  I saw Alex again and I gave him a high five and he said - leave it all out on the course!  Shortly after I saw Brett - both of these guys were finishing their second loop.  I still had 2 hours to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Brett chasing down Alex...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse266.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse266.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse230.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse230.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse313.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse313.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse301.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse301.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my mom and our friend Sarah again, both sending me lots of encouragement.  I knew I had a long way to go but I still felt strong.  Mile 4-7 were pretty fast - plus I had run this part of the course before at Stroke &amp;amp; Stride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto my second loop!  Ok, these hills seem harder this time.  I was turning into a weirdo hooting and hollering, clapping my hands, telling myself you go girl, and singing songs in my head like - you don't need no water let the mother f'er burn!  Mostly these were grunts of pain and silliness.  The people around me were bonding over the tough parts and once we got past mile 10 we were pushing each other to the finish.  I popped my last gel and plugged to the finish.  Waiting for me at the end was my mom, my bro Dary, my boyfriend Chris, and friends Brett and Sarah.  They were all cheering for me with big smiles and arms waving.  Fist pumping I had a huge grin on my face too!  I crossed the line baby! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:34 on the run (which included a bathroom stop), and 6:55 overall.  YEA!!  70.3 miles completo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/?action=view&amp;amp;current=LongCourse381.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i140.photobucket.com/albums/r11/AbigailPorter/LongCourse381.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was such a fun summer getting into triathlon.  I've moved over a lane in swim class and can see ways to improve through training.  We've met lots of friends at the BTC (Boulder Triathlon Club) and at Flatirons Athletic Club.  I'm looking forward to more of this!  But for now, it's time to rest and enjoy the mountains of Colorado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1980939223805224555-3221961400517974456?l=abigailporter.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.5430sports.com/long/results.htm' title='5430 Long Course Race Report'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/feeds/3221961400517974456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2008/08/5430-long-course-race-report.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3221961400517974456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1980939223805224555/posts/default/3221961400517974456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://abigailporter.blogspot.com/2008/08/5430-long-course-race-report.html' title='5430 Long Course Race Report'/><author><name>Abby Porter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04748049700552053617</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1KhZcDCvBUM/S8Iz1qcWy8I/AAAAAAAAAGI/RbQQVDGq21U/S220/blue+flowers.bmp'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
