(On the job in Calgary: Exploring the observation deck of the Calgary Tower.)After being at my company for a little over a year (internship included), I was blessed to have the opportunity to travel for work. I headed to Calgary, Canada, to write a race report on a half Ironman as well as a travel feature on the town (published in the November issue of Triathlete magazine, on newsstands at Barnes & Noble and Borders).
(On the job in Calgary: Ropes course through the trees at Rafter Six Ranch.)About a month later, I headed to San Antonio on vacation for Labor Day. Stevo and I loved our time there with the parents and seeing a few friends, including Spencer and Laura Williams. On the Friday of Labor Day weekend, we headed to New Braunfels to float down the Guadalupe River, stubbornly insistent that we should accomplish that activity before the Saturday, Sunday and Monday rush.
(Before floating down the Guadalupe River.)We should have known after not seeing a single inner tube (or "toob" in Texas lingo) on the river the entire drive that it was a bad day. Storms threatened all morning, and the sun only rarely peaked through the clouds, but we sucked it up, climbed aboard the windowless van with ripped seats bolted to the floorboard ("The air conditioning kicks on at 30 miles per hour," the driver told us), and headed to our entry point. Just as we climbed in, the sun peaked through the clouds and warmed us up. We told ourselves, "We're so glad we decided to do this." It was only 20 minutes later when I started shivering, realizing that neither my bathing suit, my toob or the brown water that surrounded me (in which we saw several turtles) could keep me warm for the supposed three hours we had left to ride. We came to a few rapids, and Laura and I just tried to keep track of our "cooler toob" (inner toob with a bottom to hold a cooler, which we filled with Gatorade, water and snacks) while Steve and Spencer climbed out to repeat the same sets of rapids. Eventually we came to "The Shoot" an especially quick-moving set of rapids that threatened toob toppling. Laura and I zoomed through while the guys decided to climb out and repeat it multiple times. We floated on, hoping to get out of the water to warm up. We arrived back at the rental location, realized we didn't have all the equipment to return and thus couldn't receive our key back nor wrap ourselves in beach towels. Frustrated, we took this photo once the guys finally decided to grace us with their presence:
I returned home for one day of work before flying back out to Austin to write a travel feature on the town as a winter weekend getaway location for the January issue of Triathlete. My mom joined me for one night, as did one of my best friends from high school. Travel writing is so great -- you basically get shown around, dined and chatted up about a town (no real interviewing needed) all for free. That was when I realized that this is what I can do with my life. I'm never going to be a triathlon expert, a fashion guru or a political analyst, which would be great for the magazine business, but gosh darn, I love to travel, and I can do it well. I think I've had enough travel experience in my life to feel pretty comfortable anywhere in the world, and I think I've traveled so much that it's only given me a thirst for more. Last month, Steve and I went to see Anthony Bourdain (show: "No Reservations") at the California Center for the Arts (side note: Sam the Cooking Guy sat in the seat right next to me... what are the chances?). And he went on and on about all the places he had been and all of his favorite places, especially ones where he loved the cuisine. Steve and I sat there drooling--over the chance to be paid to travel. We'll see where this road leads, and I'm so loving my job right now, especially now that I'm being trusted with more writing. But I could see myself down the road looking into travel writing of some sort.
The last week of September I traveled to Interbike, an insanely large bike tradeshow. (The month of September included eight actual flights--a new record for me.) It was in Las Vegas, in The Venetian. We stayed in The Palazzo (owned by/connected to The Venetian). It was my first trip to Vegas--can't say that I liked it much after about 10 p.m., but other than that (what I saw of it) was pretty fun. I was so worn out from work, though, that I didn't see much. Steve joined me on the Friday of the week (as a sort of six-month anniversary celebration), we went out for dinner and saw the water show at The Bellagio (the one thing I for sure wanted to see in Vegas).
I gambled $1 and lost it all on the penny slots. And my first trip to Vegas felt complete (Steve and I are returning Thanksgiving weekend with our friends Josh and Laura Lewis once Josh is back from Afghanistan).
In the midst of all of this, Stevo and I met with a mortgage broker and have put offers on three houses, all in Escondido, all short sales. We love all of them, but are willing to be patient to see if this is really where we're supposed to be right now. At one point a couple of weeks ago, I counted up 14 women I know who are pregnant (I think it's down to 12 now--some of them had their babies), but I'm not hopping on that train anytime soon. And in a fit of creativity this week, I created an autumn wreath, with the help of my good friend Heather Gray. $14, thank you very much:
And I currently have a couple of stories online on the Triathlete.com site as the entire office gears up for (and flies to) Kona for the Ironman World Championship, to take place on Saturday. And for the friends I haven't spoken with since the wedding (there are a lot of you), please call me. I'd love to chat--life has just been a little fast-paced in the last six months (and you're probably thinking, "What's new?").
