Laki.

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…

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