31 things I did, experienced or learned at 31

It has been three years since I last used the day before my birthday to reflect on the previous years. Those years have been challenging and sometimes heart breaking times. As I move forward I am trying to find solace in reflection. So here goes.

1. I saw Niagara Fall and it was worth it.
2. I wrote a dissertation, which is the single most miserable experience I have ever had.
3. I spent 3 days in the front cab of U-haul with my husband and daughter. These are the times that build family memories.
4. I wrote a physics curriculum from scratch for 4 different courses.
5. I got back on my bike. I am slower and I tire more easily, but it feels good to ride.
6. I took a stab at mountain biking and I have a lot of work to do if I want to go more regularly.
7. I started taking a boot camp class.
8. I submitted a non-physics paper for publication written with an incredibly talented co-author.
9. I accepted a post doc at Penn State.
10. I moved away from Kansas.
11. As a result of 10, I will always be grateful for anywhere I live because it is not Kansas.
12. My husband and I drove through a tornado.
13. I defended and the dissertation I wrote and felt weird afterwards.
14. I have come to have a deeper appreciation for the power of strong friendships and am grateful for the women who have stood by through move after move and for whom distance is no barrier for our relationship.
15. I gave talks at IUSB, Stamford, Berkeley and Yale.
16. I bought a pair of (used but still beautiful) Manolo Blahnik's, so I can cross that shallow goal off the list.
17. I saw the Golden Gate Bridge.
18. I saw the St. Louis Arch
19. I went to Lincoln, NE and saw some wonderful friends and rode my old bike paths.
20. I took Esther to visit her first national lab. (Fermilab)
21. I listened to Esther as she sang the songs she makes up.
22. I made a British Trifle
23. I watched some dreams die.
24. I acquired a single speed and then moved to a place with lots of hills.
25. I saw a quantum computing lab in Canada.
26. I joined LZ.
27. I had my hair dyed blonde and I love it.
28. I voted in an historical election.
29. I saw golden waves of grain, and it really is beautiful.
30. I am regularly reminded of how wonderful my husband Piper is to me.
31. I still do not have anything figured out.

So here I am. A little more travel weary as I emerge from the exhaustion of the past three years. I not quite sure where I am going but I am trying to move forward.

PTSD, The Diagnoses I Never Expected

This is my second post on mental health in less than a month. One of my goals this summer has been to recover mentally from past year and half of grueling intensity, self-doubt, and sacrifice. I was prepared to face these anxieties. I was not expecting what happened. I may be many things, but most people, myself included would generally describe my mental strength as being one of my distinctive qualities. The experience I am about to share left my self-perception shaken.

I learned some information and this information triggered a memory that I do not often bring to the forefront of my mind. An event that I had not processed. Moments of incredible cruelty I had unintentionally repressed. In the retrospect of the present I can see that the pictures tell the story I did not want to hear and am being forced to confront now. After this happened there is a period of time for which there are relatively few pictures taken of me where I am looking directly at the camera.

I was not able to find any pictures where I was looking at the camera.

Once brought forward, I was blindsided. Violent nightmares came. Horrendous flashbacks, followed by being completely zoned out and out of touch with reality. I felt confused and disoriented. Why was I struggling with something that had happened long ago? Why was I first making these connections now? Had I not healed already? My life was so different from the time of the events and the years that followed.

Taken years ago and around the time I first knew everything was going to be okay.

 Thankfully, I was already working with someone, who identified my experience and gave it a name. It was PTSD from a series of traumatic events. Event though I had recovered from many of the other negative experiences in my life, this one I had previously incorrectly identified and it had laid dormant and repressed. The reactions I was having were classic and sadly normal for someone recovering a deep pain. These words I never thought I would hear.

 I struggled with feeling mentally weak. I could not will the flashbacks away. I struggled to pull myself to be back in touch with reality. I was embarssed to be dealing with something so far back in my past. I was unable to make progress on my professional goals. Instead, I was mired in a battle with my mind and the memories in contained.

One of my favorite pictures my husband has taken of me. It's a little old now and I am presently working on getting back to that condition. I wish I felt this powerful all the time.

Finally, I conceded. I started to talk about what had happened to those who were close to me. My family was wonderful, loving, and supportive. I eschewed work in favor of taking walks and letting myself heal. I read books I enjoyed. I studied what recovery looks like. Eventually, I came back to reality and my focus returned. The nightmares faded and the flashbacks receded. It took two weeks.

I know that this may happen again, but next time it will not surprise me. I will be ready. If I am fortunate, this may be the only time.

I contemplated writing this piece as it is very personal. I decided to come forward for a few reasons. One, by talking about this, it loses its claim over me. I also lose the feelings of shame and weakness when I am honest about my struggles. Two, I want to shed light on another issue which is not often talked about. Three, this is part of my previous post in that I want to continue the discussion of how one manages a stressful career while balancing mental health. I do not believe that this experience that I have shared is a good example of what to do, only what I did to survive it.

On a further note, I am not ready to come publically forward with what happened. I am working on co-authoring a piece that will explain my experience in more detail as well as what can be done to prevent other stories like mine.

On the Bike Again

In the summer of 2014, I finally rode 1000 miles on my bike in a month. In late summer, I completed an ultra duathlon. In the fall, I added swimming to my weekly routine of cycling, running, and soccer. Then in November, everything changed. I was expecting my daughter. 

I had read about triathletes that trained through their pregnancy. I read the stories about women who ran till the ninth month. I read about how to ride a bike with a larger stomach. I was going to do this and continue my doctoral experiment. I was going to show that women can do it all. Then I didn't.

My blood pressure dropped early and I felt like the world was spinning. I had trouble concentrating. I did not feel safe on the narrow British roads that I cycled daily. Swim practice was at 9 pm and the only way to get there was by bike. Every evening, I was exhausted after a day of trying to concentrate on my studies. I tried to run and my body was so tired that I contracted infection after infection. Then the doctor told me to stop. I could only manage to do my studies and to carry my child. Even then, I did perceive that I did that very well either.

I withdrew with a sense of profound failure. Every question about why I could not continue biking hurt. I heard the stories again about all the women who were able to continue their normal life while pregnant. I wish I could have been one of them, but I wasn't.

Then my daughter arrived and she is wonderful. Then my dissertation deadline came around me like a stranglehold. Then the days of working, followed by writing. The lonely isolation of busyness. The madness of a graduate school. Still, I did not ride. Still, I did not run. My clothes grew tighter. It was all I could do to keep my head above water and the pressure of life threaten to drown my very essence. Finally, I finished and survived a somewhat brutal defense. It was a sloppy finish, but I dragged my bloated corpse of a body across the line. Then came my first gasps of air.

I rested. I started to lift weights. I ran when the weather allowed, slowed by my larger mass. Then the other day, I rode.

Cycling, which had brought me healing in the past came back. I pulled on the jersey which had once hung loosely around my frame, now clung to every curve. I put my old shorts, surprised that I was able to get them up to my waist. I brought out my freshly cleaned bike. I rode with a cycling friend for an hour. 

Once again, I heard the spinning wheels and felt the hot sun on my back. I breathed in the country air. I absorbed the peace that can be found while cycling. I came back with a light euphoria and renewed enthusiasm for living. I made plans for training through the fall. I started thinking of races in which to compete. I will take time before I obtain where I was, but I am now two rides closer.

Mental Health and Physics: A Personal Response

As I was browsing social media yesterday, I came across the following article for which I have included the link. The piece is about the mental health struggles of a particular student during her graduate studies.

My purpose in writing this blog post is to tell my own story and to further the dialogue in generating a better environment in which we train future scientist. Mental health issues among graduate students is a phenomenon that is well known, but I have encountered any sustainable solutions. This observation is purely anecdotal and not based on a survey of different programs. I know I am not alone in my struggles, but I do not want to compromise the privacy of anyone who has shared with me their own personal fight against depression and anxiety, so here is just my experience with some questions about what we can do to better train our future scientists.

I began my graduate studies in 2012 at Royal Holloway University of London. I was thrilled to be studying at my first choice program. I like the student, in the original article, have a history of depression and other mental health issues, mostly situational. My joy at starting my program gradually ebbed away and was replaced by suffocating anxiety.

So how did this manifest itself? On bad days, I felt a deep sadness and discouragement in depths of my personhood. I woke up each morning with a sense of dread and panic. My shoulders and jaw ached after a night of living through tension I could never escape. I test as an extrovert on any personality test, I have ever taken, yet I developed social anxiety and avoided people. This had a doubling sabotaging effect as extrovert, I need the social relationships.

On the worst days, I dreaded getting out of bed in the morning. I wanted to escape life itself. Yet I know I had to move forward. Everything depended on me. So I went to work anyways. I tried to brush away the voices that constantly told me I was a failure and unworthy of the position. (Imposter syndrome is also rampant amount graduate students and I am no exception.)

I did seek counseling for a short while, which only moderately helped. I told a superior once of my struggles who accused me of laziness and said that they were not interested in my personal problems. I never mentioned it again. I learned in this field, your results are what matter, not personhood. So I internalized the pains. I was able to manage much of this through exercise until a difficult pregnancy made this impossible. So I further repressed.

When I entered the final year, I had no time to deal with mental health issues. I was working full time, researching full time, and attempting to be a mother. So ignored everything and fought the anxiety related distraction. I did cross the finish line, but it was a messy completion, in which I feel more shame than accomplishment.

Now I live with the consequences. My anxiety on some days in disabling. I struggle to drive a car for fear of a crash. Some days I am driven to such a deep distraction that some days I accomplish very little. This is followed by feelings of failure. I am seeking help and I have taken some time to heal from my mental issues before beginning my next research endeavor. I have started to exercise again, which I hope will help. Even as I write this, I am terrified that sharing this information could be detrimental. I do not wish to be judged as a physicist by what I have struggled through to get where I am.

We do need to talk about the mental struggles of graduate students. First, we need to de-stigmatize these issues. I love the idea of having mental health forums as a part of graduate programs. These do not even need to be science specific, as these problems are not unique to the field. In my orientation, there was little mention of mental health services available. I would argue that this should be a bigger part since it is so prevalent among graduate students.

Lastly, I am hesitant to suggest this as I am not sure it is their role. In my case, my superiors were unsupportive and disinterested in my mental health. I know it would have helped me if I would have felt supported and safe. I want to fair to them, as I do not know what they were struggling with and some of the individuals I worked with provided excellent support in training me to be a proficient scientist. However, I cannot expect personal interest from superiors and at the end of the day, their job is only to ensure that I can do physics, not that I am healthy. Thus, I would argue for better mentorship programs focused on aiding students in progressing with their work even through personal issues to close this gap.

It is my hope that by writing this piece that I have put forward one more story to comfort anyone who feels that they are alone in their struggles. We need a good dialogue and we need good ideas on how to have better mental health during this grueling process.

Do You Know What Fit Looks Like? A short follow up.

About a year ago I wrote a little piece inspired by the events that happened at last year Wimbledon. The female champion had been heavily criticized for having larger physique. It is entailed "Do you know what fit looks like?" and it is the most popular post I have ever published. I feel it is very important that society has a healthy view of exercise and fitness as well as realistic expectations of the results. Fitness is about lifestyle, not the number on the scale or the number on the clothing size.

I am tired of seeing articles that discuss how running and spinning make you fat. I refuse to provide links to that trash, but they can be easily found. This perpetuates the notion that exercise is only about outward appearance. As I have said before fitness usually has some positive effects on appearance, but to truly master a discipline this really needs to be viewed as a pleasant side effect. In myself, I have found that the harder I train as a cyclist, that my legs get firmer, but also bigger. However, the number that count, the distance I can travel and the speed I can cycle continue to go up.

I have a confession. Training for this duathlon was the first time I really contemplated the notion of race weight. I seriously thought about working to lose 10 pounds to be a more "competitive weight".  (I am already a healthy weight for my height.) In the end, I abandoned the idea. Whatever weight I would or would not lose in training would be enough. After all, I do physics for a living, not racing. My speed in the race would only matter to me and my job gives me enough stress to worry about the scale too. So I ate healthy and trained hard.

In my last piece I gave my numbers and challenged other athletes to do the same. I will give you my current numbers. At the beginning of my training I weighed around 136-138 pounds. I was a US size 4 and somewhere between a UK 10 and a UK 8. I had taken a six month running hiatus due to injury and I cycled mostly for transportation. My training involved exercising 5-6 days a week with usually two long (2.5+ hour) workouts a week. And guess what? On the day of the Duathlon I weighed around 136 pounds, however my fitness had substantially increased and I looked much more muscular. Also, I had gone down a clothing size, but I had not really lost any weight. This is fine since the numbers that mattered were just perfect. On September 14, these numbers where 20/77/10 and 6:55:55. I weigh more now than when I ran the marathon in 2010 and my average running pace is around 1:30 faster on long runs and 2 minutes faster on short runs. Also my average cycling pace about 2 mph faster than it was two summers ago. These are the numbers that are far more important to me.

So what are your numbers? The ones that really matter. Let us be a part of revolutionizing the ideas of what being fit looks like.

The London Ultra Duathlon Race Recap: Something Truly Challenging

After 8 and a half months of training my race day had finally come. If you are mostly here to find out about my final results, I will spoil the ending now, since this piece is more about the experience that the end result. Also, if you want to read just the race recap and not the back story, you can find that here.

London Ultra Distance: 20km run (12.4 mi) / 77km cycle (47.8 mi) / 10km run (6.2 mi)

Total Time: 6:55:55

Overall Place (Female Finishers): 7th

Age Category Place (25-29): 1st

In order to really tell this story, I need to take you back in time to when I registered for the Ultra. I will warn you now, this story is incredibly personal. I am sharing it because I want others in my circumstances to know that they are not alone.

It was February of this year and life was very challenging. I was broke. My tiny student income is enough to cover one frugal person's life in the London area and I was been bending over backwards to figure out ways to make it stretch to cover two people. To do this I had taken on a large teaching load that was draining me and taking a heavy toll on my other responsibilities. My research was not going well, in part because I did not have the proper time to devote to it and I there is little mentorship to help develop into a balanced researcher and scientist. I was incredibly lonely. All the while, I was living with the knowledge that I was the one responsible for my circumstance. I wanted to obtain a PhD in physics at a good school. I chose to move here. The price I am paying for what I thought I wanted is higher than the present reward, and possibly the future reward. The past year and a half has sent me into an emotional decline. They has obliterated any passion I once had for my field and my involvement has become quite mechanical. At this point, it was too late to turn back. I have no money to go elsewhere and at least a PhD may give me a chance at a better living someday. Every day I tried to remind myself to be grateful for what I had, and sometimes it made things better. My self confidence that I worked so hard to build has all but gone away. I wanted to call my former colleagues, but I was afraid to admit that I had failed. That I was unhappy with my choice. Getting out of bed each morning had become a burden. I needed something where I could feel successful. Something that I could achieve that would be challenging. Then I saw an advertisement for the London Duathlon, a challenging event involving biking a running, two sports I have already done.

I knew that I would not be able to pay for a race entry, but I saw that there options to raise money for charity. Scope was offering individuals a £1 entry in exchange for committing to raise £200. (I have previously written about the other reasons I chose Scope here.) I had never fundraised for an entry in a race before, and after some thought, I decided to go for it. Then there the issue of the length. The London Duathlon ran 4 different lengths (run km/ cycle km / run km):
Super Sprint - 5k/11k/5k
Spring - 10k/22k/5k
Classic - 10k/44k/5k
Ultra - 20k/77k/10k
I knew I wanted a challenge. I remember thinking at the time that the bike length for the Ultra was the only bike ride that seemed a reasonable. (I prefer long rides.) For some reason all the extra running was  not exactly registering at the time I was signing up. So I enrolled. I also convince my friend Thyla to join me in this endeavor so we could train together. She decided to do the more reasonable Super Sprint distance.


Here I must digress on a tangent. I am frequently asked what makes me do endurance events. I give the same answer. Endurance athletes are a special kind of crazy. We want to be challenged. We want things to be hard. We want to see what we are made of. It is not that we are necessarily in better shape that individuals who do short events, (in my case many short distance athletes are in far form), we enjoy the mental game of pushing ourselves further when everything in our body tell us to quit. I ran my first race at 24. It was a 5k and I had to walk part of it. I ran my first marathon 11 months later. This is the kind of crazy I am talking about. If this type of things seem normal to you than join the club. We are a great bunch.

It may seem unusual to add on more activities to already strained schedule, but for me it gave me a reason to not only get out of bed, but to rise early. I needed to fit in that long ride. It gave me a reason to fight the discouragement of my research because I knew I could reward myself with a run if I had managed to move forward. I watched myself getting stronger and being able run faster. Nothing in my actual circumstances had changed, but gradually I was able to change my attitude. I found the strength to accept where I was in life. To stop being so angry. I reevaluated. I made new friends and started expecting my research to feel more like a job instead of expecting it to be the driving passion in my life.  I also became very serious about my own athleticism. Something in my switched. I did just want be semi committed hobby athlete. I wanted actually become competitive and push myself harder than I had before. I like this new found feeling.

So I have told you the story leading up the race, now I will give my actual race recap. The race was pretty incredible. My event started at 8:45 in the morning and I needed to be at Richmond Park at 7:30am. I looked up the train times and I knew there was no way that I could get there on time using public transportation and I was not going to cycle 14 miles will all my gear the morning of such a long event. Thankfully I have a wonderful co-worker, Jochem, who lives near the park who offered to have myself and Piper stay at his place the night before.

Waiting for the race to begin and rocking my Eyeskull socks. (I always try to carry a little Nebraska with me when I race.)

After a breakfast of granola with almond milk, a banana and some Coke, I cycled over to the park Sunday morning with my husband and Jochem. As usual before any big sporting event, I was nervous. I had been quite ill the past weekend and I spent all week resting and drinking water in hopes of being ready for the race. I really hoped my training had been sufficient. I hoped that I would be able to finish before the cut off time. The race event village had few racers wandering around. These were mostly Ultra participants with a few Sprinters. (The race order is as following, 8:45am - Ultra, 9:00am - Sprint, 10:30-11:30 - Classic, and 1:30pm - Super Sprint). I put on my race numbers and then made way to the transition zone. I had never done a multi-sport race before so I was not entirely sure of how to set up transition. I racked my bike, put my helmet on the seat, and laid out some gels, Snikers, sports drink, and a camelpak filled with elite spiked water. I had already installed a water bottle on my bike filled with water and 3 Sis gels. I left the zone and began my usual pre race ritual. This involves deep breathing, nervous conversation, and visiting the port-a-potties multiple times. I was really glad to have Piper and another friend there for support. I watched on the big board as the time counted down to the Ultra.

30 minutes before the race

At a little less than 10 minutes before we were called over to the starting carrels. We would be starting in packs of about 20. I was in second carrel next to another woman who was also doing the Ultra. We chatted about the lack of women in the event compared to the number of men. (There were around 100 individuals doing the Ultra and less than 10 were women.) I told her that this meant we were guaranteed to place in our age category. All we had to do was finish. The feeling in the start zone was electric. Everyone was excited and in a good mood. I was around so many incredible athletes. There was more than one person around me who bore the emblem of being an Ironman. It was surreal to think I would be running a race with people like that. They counted down the first carrel and we watched them take off. Next, those of us in the second start group made our way over. We listed to the count down and then we were off.

I was in a really good mood at the beginning of the race. (Little did I know what the day would hold.)

Like all endurance events, the start is never really that fast. I remember that I could not stop smiling. I was so happy that my day to run was finally here. The 20k run consisted of doing two 10k loops. I am not a particularly fast runner, especially compared to people that normally take on this type of distance. I am happy if I can run between 10:30 and 10:50 mile on long runs. I was well on pace during this race, however it not long before I was trailing at the rear of the Ultra pack. This did not bother me much. I am happy to run my own pace and I was pleased with how well it was going. The only issue I was having was little stomach pain, which is not unusual for me when running. The first loop seemed to fly by. I did see one sad event. The woman I had started next to had collapsed about 8km into the race and had gone into shock. It is always a little heartbreaking to see someone have to pull out so soon into a race.

Getting Ready to high five Jochem (I was really in a good mood on this first lap)

I was still in a good mood when I started the second lap. I was surrounded by a crowd of Sprinters as I reached event village. I watched as they ran towards transition and I kept running and fueled with a Gu. I was running alone for most of this lap. I passed another guy running the Ultra and we ran together for a short while before I pulled ahead. About 7km into the second lap, my bad knees started to act up. I was in pretty fair amount of pain, but I was determined not quit. I feel tears coming to my eyes. I frequently use my long morning runs as quiet time, since it is the one time my mind is still. This prayerful meditation during training is often useful in the race, because it serves as a reminder that I have a wonderful Creator who gives me strength. I kept repeating Phillipians 4:13 and the song "My God is so Big". I sipped a little water and little sports drink and kept on running.

Entering Transition

I enter the transition zone about 2 hours and 13 minutes into there race, (the fastest I have ever run a 20k in an event.) I was relieved to be done with running for a little while. My bike was one of the few remaining in the Ultra section so it was very easy to find. My transition is an example of everything not to do. I made a frantic grab for my helmet and gloves. I fussed with my camel pack and sunglasses. I pulled off my running shoes, (I love those elastic tri laces), and jammed my feet into my cycling shoes. I took another Gu and thought about eating something else, but my stomach revolted at the idea. I took my bike off the rack, and somehow made it out of there in 2 min 30 sec. I walked my bike to mount line and climbed on top.

My knees practically sang with the relief of being stretched out with pedaling motion. I growled as I took off. I am more of cyclist than a runner. The bike route is 7 laps around the Richmond park, an 11km circuit. This terrain is mostly undulating and there is one climb, a 1km hill with 40 meters of climb and a 12% gradient at the steepest point. (That's right, I am going to do that 7 times.) I reached the hill about 3km into the first loop. In my training, I practiced doing standing climbs to give my legs a break. I took the hill standing up. I felt so thirsty and light headed and worse, my stomach was in full revolt and I felt like I was going to be sick. I pulled over at the top of the hill to settle my tummy. I knew I would have difficulty recovering psychologically if I vomited during the race. I got back on my bike and did another couple of kilometers, the more issues. My calfs began to cramp. I could barely pedal. I pulled over at the Ultra water station and tried to stretch them out. One of the volunteers came over and had me lay down so I could be stretched out. I told it was only my first lap and I had never cramped like that in training. It turns out my electrolytes were low and I had not properly hydrated during the run to be prepared for the bike ride. I started off again furiously sipping the electrolyte water in my camelpak.

Going around the park (I really was not that tired when this was taken)

I took the rest of the first lap to find my groove again. I told myself I had too far to go to let a little hiccup pull me down. My spirits started to lift and by the time I rounded the corner, of the first lap, I was really having fun. The next 5 laps were an awesome blur. I rode my bike with nearly every participate in the race. I saw Ultras and Sprinters in the beginning and then the Classics arrived. I think every biking ability was represented. There is nothing quite like cycling next to someone on bike that costs more than what you pay in a year for rent. I was pretty happy with pacing, especially considering the slow start. Also, it worked really well for me to fuel from a water bottle.

Climbing that stupid hill (This was climb number 6)

That hill, got worse every time I climbed. I hate that bloody hill. By the time I was approaching the 6th time to climb, I was starting to feel tired. Then I made the mistake of thinking about the 10k run. The last lap was difficult. The last climb was brutal. I also wanted charge the person cheering at the top of the hill who kept telling me the worst was over. (I never want to hear that in a race, especially when I have literally miles to go.) The fleet of cyclists was pretty thin of my last lap. The overall mood had also changed as people had started to get tired. I did see Thyla who was finishing her first running loop on the Super Sprint. I finished my bike with a few Super Sprinters on my tail.

The last run really hurt

I approached the dismount line and I practical threw myself off the bike. My legs were aching and I had to walk the full distance of the transition field to get to the Ultra station. I racked my bike and looked around at the Ultras who had already finished and were packing up. Maybe one day that could be me, but certainly not today. I put on my running shoes and took another Gu. This tradition took me over 4 minutes. It was worse than the first. I stumbled out of the zone and willed my legs to work. I started on a slow jog, but my old friend, knee pain, had returned with a vengeance. I began something akin to a run/walk/limp. I was running on pure determination. I was going to do this last 10k if it killed me. I waved to Thyla as she passed me on the bike. At about 2km in, I was able to run more than walk. My pace was slow and painful, but determined. All I could think about was finishing. I was alone on the track. I needed another walk break between the the 5k and 6k mark. After I passed the 6k mark, I decided I was going to run the rest, no matter what. As the remain km passed I entered mind set of pure crazy. I do not think there is another way to describe it. Everything in my body told me to quit, but I kept putting one foot in front of another. I passed a Classic runner who was walking and encouraged her to run with me and finish faster. She ran 1 km with me before she had to drop back to running. I reached the 9km mark and then there was only 1000 meters before I would be an Ultra Duathlete. About 500 meters from the finish line, I could hear footsteps behind me. There were two Ultra runners behind me. I had been ahead of them the entire last lap, (who knew?), and I was not going to let these guys beat me now. Somewhere out of the depths of my soul I pulled out what felt like a sprint and ran the last bit as fast as I could. I could hear my name being called as I passed the finish line. I promptly broke into tears.

Finishing was very emotional. This is not a pain expression.

Finishing was very emotional for me. I had put months into training. I had taken myself further than I had ever imagined. I once saw a video of people finishing their first Ironman. I could relate to the expressions I saw on that video in that moment. I would say that this was my Ironman, but I hope to do an actual Ironman someday. I have completed my first ultra sporting event. I am no longer an ordinary athlete and I love it. Piper was there at the finish line to tell me how proud he was of me. It was an unforgettable moment.

Thyla and I - Medals in hand

The Ultra Duathlon is by far my favorite race I have done. I feel like I have finally found an event that is perfect for me. It is so sufficiently challenging. I am planning on doing it next year and I am hoping to take 20-30 minutes off my time. I have already planned my training schedule and have included a few other events to compete in over the next year to help me prepare, including a sprint triathlon. I will be able to save a lot of time, but not needing to pull over from a cramp and I know my running is only going to get better. I need to thank everyone who encouraged me along the way.

Post Race Beer Never Tasted so Good

All pictures in this post are by the one and only Piper Williams.

28 things I did or experienced at 28

I started this ritual the day before my 26th birthday after a particularly challenging year to help me focus on the good. My previous posts were on Facebook, but I think it is time to move it to the blog. I find myself in the same position once again, 28 has been hard, but there has been much to be thankful for. So here goes.

1. I returned to Spain, the land of my childhood after 13 years of being away from the country.

2. I reconnected with one of my former youth group leaders and have found a new friend and prayer partner.

3. I started reading C.S. Lewis's non fiction and have grown to love his writing.

4. My husband, Piper, and I celebrated our one year anniversary.

5. I did my first every physics theory project - stay tuned for a paper (hopefully) this year.

6. I won the London division of the 3 minute wonder competition.

7. Which brings me to this point, to win that competition, I wrote an original physics rap.

8. I worked with a team of women to start a column on blog all about bike commuting. (Check out Taking the Lane here: http://sheclismo.blogspot.co.uk/)

9. I moved into a tiny and beautiful cabin.

10. I won the summer edition of the RHUL physics bike challenge by several hundred miles.

11. I found a new training parter who has pushed me to run faster than I thought I could

12. Piper and I volunteered to aid in flood relief this spring.

13. I presented in the Faraday Lecture theater at the Royal Institute

14. I walked along the white cliffs of Dover and they are even more beautiful than I had imagined

15. I explored my favorite Medieval Castle again

16. I was called "Aunt Emily" by my nephew for the first time.

17. I participated and rocked the London Ultra Duathlon

18. Which led to my first ever top ranking position in my age category (now I'll have to defend it next year)

19.  I started exploring the Thames Path with Piper which will hopefully lead to an adventure next year

20. I actually made myself to hill training this year, both on the bike and on foot, and reaped the physical rewards

21. I have learned more about being grateful

22. Even though things have been challenging, we have always had enough and that enough has come in some surprising ways

24. I made my first Thanksgiving dinner

25. I had my first full year of bike commuting (I have been car free for a while, but I have occasionally lived close enough to work to walk, but not this year.)

26. My poster of my theory project came in first place at the Institute of Physics High Energy conference

27. I wore an Easter hat for the first time this past Resurrection Sunday and I think it is a tradition that should be brought back

28. Piper and I started traditions of making even small trips adventures and I am looking forward to many more adventures with him at my side

The White Cliffs of Dover

Piper and me in front of our cabin, ready for adventure!