Laki means lucky in Hawaiian.
And that’s what I am. Lucky. And a bit spoiled. But I can certainly appreciate it, and will never take this kind of thing for granted – ever.
This week, I’m in Maui with Liz and her family. I came for a mental break and I have sun, my bike, good friends, surrogate parents, a baby to squish and books. What more can I ask for?
Poolside morning coffee? Ok, why not.
I know this is a holiday, but somehow I feel a teeny bit less guilty if I call it a triathlon training camp (or as Lizzie and I are calling it, Ground Zero 2014). It feels good to get back on my bike – especially when my bike isn’t going nowhere in my dark garage; to run and to really sweat, and to contemplate swimming (I’m not cleared to properly swim yet. It’ll come). Look out, St-George, you might not be an epic fail after all…