Tag: gravel ride

Rebirth of Cool

how I got back on the horse

What a difference a month (and a lot of Doing Hard Work) makes.

GRUSK RECAP

The week after I last posted, I made the 8-hour drive to Circleville, WV, for GRUSK. I had originally signed up for the 3-day non-competitive bikepacking route back in January but switched to the day ride option when it became apparent I would not be in any shape to actually go on a 3-day bikepacking trip. As much planning as I do, there’s still a lot of stress and anxiety around doing something in a new place. Right before the deadline to switch categories, I downgraded again to the 50-mile route. 50 miles is very achievable.

I agreed to be the SPOT contact for my friend Curt, who opted to try for an ITT on the 2-day bikepacking route that went out while I was making my way down the interstate. Just before I fell out of cell service, I received a text:

Scratching. See you tonight; riding back to camp.

My brain was shocked; my heart was immediately happy. While it wasn’t great he was scratching (what happened?) I was not so secretly excited about actually being able to ride bikes together on the day ride.

There is no cell service for an hour’s drive in all directions from the venue, so communicating was challenging, but we eventually met up at registration. I unloaded my stuff into my dorm room and parked by his campsite.

The event itself is fantastic – packet pickup was easy, pre-ordered items were ready, and the food was plentiful and delicious. Over dinner Curt shared why he decided to scratch and that he too was looking forward to more time to hang out and talk. We had so much to catch up on.

It’s July and I know better than to sign up for events in July because it’s usually hot, sometimes muggy, and I don’t do well in the heat especially now that I’m on antidepressants. But here we are – it’s expected to be in the upper-80s/low 90s.

I wake up feeling remarkably calm. Normal even. Over breakfast I decide to load the 32mi route just in case. I’ll make up my mind on the road.

We head out around 9:30am under clear blue skies and temps in the mid-70s. The wonderful descent to start quickly becomes a succession of long 5+ mile climbs as we make our way up Spruce Knob. I’m pedaling my usual steady pace and sweating buckets.

West Virginia is beautiful!! The shaded woods roads and gradual grades made for a pleasant climb. The descent was boneshaking (WV gravel is decidedly not pristine) and before you know it, we’re back to climbing. The two-track was a nice diversion from the wide gravel roads. Long descent to the aid station.

The aid station is in the full sun. It’s also conveniently where the 50-miler and the 32-miler diverge. Curt has already decided to take the shorter route due to some bike issues. I decided it’s better to ride with a friend than ride for mileage.

We spin back to the start (remember that nice downhill? it’s now the final climb haha), get cleaned up, and I head over to where Curt is camping. We spent the rest of the day under an umbrella talking, quietly reading, eating snacks, and generally catching up on life. Without cell service, it’s blissfully present.

near sunset from top of Spruce Knob
this, all day
near the end of a loooong descent
delicious two-track
View from the top
Adventure Duo Reunite!

The event had a whole party after the ride—people were coming in at all hours, some from bikepacking and others from enjoying the day. Many on the longer routes had salt-encrusted jerseys and shorts, which only reinforced my decision to cut the ride shorter.

Whether you ride 32 miles or 320 miles, you still did the event.

The band played until 11pm. The next morning, we had breakfast (I cannot stress how delicious and copious the food was) and headed out our separate ways. I was still feeling mostly normal, which felt miraculous. I was happy, calm, and without worry. After the last four months, it’s a relief.

coming next

The last two weekends I spent trying to get outside to ride with friends. One day we met up in Millerton, NY to do a three-state ride up Mount Riga, down Sunset Ridge, and back to our cars on the newly completed Harlem Valley Rail Trail. Perfect day with hot but not as muggy temps to be with friends. On our way back it started to sprinkle, which felt amazing after being hot and sweaty all afternoon. The sprinkle turned to a light rain and before we knew it, it was a downpour thunderstorm. There was a distinct moment when the water finally ingressed our shoes – at that point, you’re just soaked, and all you can do is pedal.

Last weekend I headed up to Vermont with Karen for a weekend of bikes and car camping. We rode out from Molly Stark State Park over to Green Mountain National Forest, over to Stratton, and made our way south on as many backroads as possible. The route had a few roads that turned out to be private or the “road” indicated on Ride with GPS maps didn’t actually punch through – so we had some reroutes, but overall had a wonderful day. Blessed again with perfect temps, low humidity, and nary another cyclist in sight. Cleaned up at the shower house and headed into town for a well-deserved dinner.

The second morning, Karen had to get back early, so I went out on a short ride before making the 3-hour drive home. It did not disappoint, and in many places, I felt very aware of my soloness and gender but also blissfully able to ride on my own terms, at my own pace. Vermont truly is a gem of our corner of the world.

This weekend has been excessively hot—humidity is high, dew points are over 72*F, and I’ve spent the weekend inside. My anxiety still rises for no reason, and I have to reason with myself, never an easy feat. But it helps—why am I feeling anxious? What is causing this? How can I let my body know it doesn’t need to be on edge?

Next weekend, I’ll be heading to Colorado for a long vacation full of family and friends. I spent yesterday evening boxing up my bike because I only have two more trainer workouts before we leave, and I don’t have time or inclination to go outside when it’s this gross out. It’s hard enough to take the dogs on a walk.

I’m still waffling on attending SBT GVL. I downgraded my route to the 56 miler, which again, is very achievable, and starts at 6:45am so I’ll be done before Noon (and before the heat really gets up there). I want to ride the roads; I don’t need the festival or the pre-events. Ultimately, it will come down to a game-day decision (well, a few days out since we plan to head up to Steamboat on the Friday before).

I’ve made plans to ride with my other adventure partner Jess while I’m down there. A simple day ride that looks incredible and will be a nice test of how I’m acclimating.

I’m basically trying to stay focused on each day, reduce stress as much as possible, eliminate anything that isn’t bringing me joy or makes me feel anxious – and talk myself through the rest. I will be staying with my dad while I’m in Colorado Springs, and I’m optimistic this trip home will help me find some closure. In some ways, I feel like my anxiety remains high because I live so far away and haven’t been able to truly integrate the absence of my mom. My emotions are still somewhat stuck in the post-funeral discombobulation. I see my sisters doing things with our dad, and in so many ways, I want that for myself, too.

It’s OK to not be OK. This isn’t permanent. You’ve done amazing things and you will do amazing things again. Taking time away doesn’t diminish your worth. Everyone needs a break.

Until next time ….

Lu Lacka Wyco Hundo 2024

do it for the tacos

Capping off my Spring Classics trio is the iconic Lu Lacka Wyco Hundo in Pittston, PA. This, along with Rasputitsa, was the main reason I spent the winter on the trainer three days a week.

2024 marks 12 years of LLWH goodness. It’s the ride I read about when Selene Yeager was writing as Fit Chick for Bicycling Magazine back in 2013ish, brand new to cycling, and thought “I want to be able to do that event someday.” Wisely (for once – ha!), I didn’t attempt it back when I was a novice cyclist.

Last weekend at Rasputitsa (admittedly a very different latitude), it was cool (40s*F) and it snowed. Yesterday it was 80*F and brilliantly sunny. LLWH definitely won in the weather department because it was relatively dry leading up to the event and the gravel roads were in excellent shape.

Saturday afternoon I made the relatively short drive (2.5hrs) to Pittston, PA – an easy jawn down I-84. The pre-ride materials indicated packet pickup was from 1-8pm at the brewery, however when I arrived at 7pm, I learned they had closed it at 6pm. Since I’m not a beet drinker, I found Tony’s Pizzeria and picked up a pie and a salad before returning to my hotel room for the night.

I’m still dealing with GI issues, and Saturday had been one of the “bad” days for nausea. This, of course, triggers my anxiety because I know hard efforts require good fueling strategies, and I was having issues just eating enough for baseline caloric needs. I’ve added digestive enzymes into my repertoire as my food logging doesn’t provide insight into triggers.

I signed up for the event solo and rode by myself most of the day, yo-yoing with a few people throughout the day. The routes had various offshoots from a core route, making it possible to see people who had gone out before you on a longer distance later in the day. I originally signed up for the 75 miler, but downgraded to 63 the morning of based on the previous day’s feeling. Knowing all routes go to the first rest stop, I knew I had an out if I needed/wanted to end my ride early.

Pennsylvania is vastly underrated for cycling, featuring wide open farmland, steep hills, and abandoned highways that nature is slowly taking over. Riding this event reminded me of my time living just outside Philadelphia and going on bike explorations every weekend with my best bike friend Ken. Also of my multiple tours on the Ride for Homes fundraising event benefiting Habitat for Humanity Philadelphia. It just felt familiar and comfortable.

One of the things I appreciated about this event was how down-to-earth the ride was intended to be. The pre-event communication included logistics, but also a pace sheet so you could make sure the aid stations were open for your given pace and route. “take pictures and enjoy the ride. If today isn’t your day, just follow the next shorter route. Don’t use Google to get back to the start – it will put you on roads that will be a very bad time. We won’t leave anyone out there.” It felt like a friend of a friend was giving pro tips on a route they created. The only time limit was to be done by dark.

the ride

It’s cloudy and misty as I roll up to the Jenkins Township firehouse. The temps are in the mid-50s*F, which felt nice for my running-hot tendencies. I picked up my ride plate, t shirt, and bought a poster. I decided I probably only needed a vest over my lightweight wool t shirt. Paired with my trail shorts, mesh bib liners, and a zero-weight baselayer, I was ready for a long day in the saddle. I was also one of Very Few not wearing a full road cycling kit. Most of the Very Serious Cyclists on the hundred-miler had already left at 8am; I had planned to go out with the 9am Mass Start.

The mass start had the founder, Pat, leading us out in his truck which was helpful due to the first few miles rolling through downtown Pittston.

The route itself starts mellow and flat, riding along the east side of the Susquehanna River. I stopped to take a photo of a roadside waterfall and continued along at a measured pace. The first hill arrived at mile 13 and was a model for most of the hills to come. It was about 8/10ths of a mile averaging 8.5%. Many were already walking. By now, the sun is out and many of us are taking off warmer clothing from the start. I ditched the vest and switched to fingerless gloves.

The route meanders around the farmland on mostly exposed roads with very little tree cover. Exposure is my nemesis, but it was temperate out. Sweat up the hill, cool down on the descent. I was glad I applied sunscreen and bug spray before heading out.

The first aid station was at mile 25 and was well stocked with bananas, pb&js on white bread, oranges, and plenty of water and Hammer nutrition electrolyte mix. I grabbed a banana, refilled my water bottle, and examined the routes. I wasn’t nauseous, but I also wasn’t feeling hungry. I ate the rest of my Clifbar and the banana. Looking at the 40, I would be going back on roads I’ve already ridden on; looking at the 63, I’d get to see the other side of the river and hit all three counties (Luzerne, Lackawanna, and Wyoming Counties). Plus, it’s only 20 miles to the next aid station and only two or three big hills. I decided to keep moving on the 63.

Every time a group of men passed me, at least one said “good job” as they floated by. I know it’s not condescending and intended to be supportive but it always irritates me. Do they say that to other men when they pass them? I doubt it. I may not be fast but I am strong and I can ride bikes all day long and not be completely useless at the end of the day. I do my best to ignore my feelings.

As luck would have it, I also saw the photographers on the course many times. I’m hopeful at least a few came out nice; I always smile or laugh and try to make it look like I’m not mashing my granny gear up a steep hill.

The second aid station was the taco stop. Lots of people sprawled out on the grass across the road from the tent with sodas and tacos; other offerings included oranges, bananas, pb&js, and other typical aid station fare. I wanted to get a taco and just chillax for a bit, but my stomach was not happy and I was forcing myself to eat. I ate a banana, refilled my bottles, and headed out after a brief break. Only 20 miles left in the ride and only 3 more significant climbs before an epic descent back into Pittston.

Sometime around mile 53 I stopped to eat some fruit snacks and almost immediately felt queasy. I dialed back the pace even more as I pedaled up the final climb. I even got off and pushed my bike up a short but steep hill to see if that helped. (it didn’t, but it did give me a chance to work different muscles for a bit)

Rolling back into town, I overshot a turn and saw the photographer waving his hands at me from the side of the road. I doubled back and the route put us on a trail of railroad-grade gravel next to the tracks that eventually gave way to a grassy doubletrack trail. I hope that photo turned out!

I checked in at the finish (every rider was accounted for at each aid station to ensure no one was left out on the route) and decided to skip the post-ride meal in favor of getting back on the road towards home. (fear not, dear reader, I picked up fast food to eat on the drive) It looked like they were offering pizza or pasta and beverages. Perhaps if I had a friend I would have stuck around to talk about the day and how nice the ride was.

in closing

Overall, I’m glad I gutted it out (again) to do the whole route. LLWH is hard in a different way than Vermont gravel is hard so it would be difficult to compare the two. After the first 13 miles, there are almost no flat portions – you are either riding up a hill or down a hill. I also got sunburned because I didn’t get as much sunscreen on my arms and legs as I thought. ope.

Would I recommend this ride to others? Enthusiastically yes. There are options for fast people, slow people, and everything in-between. The vibe is chill, the food is bountiful at the aid stations (and have port-o-potties), and the route is beautiful. For $85, this was exactly what I needed it to be.

You just need to be OK with lots of roads trending up.

I have a few weeks before the Girls + Matt MTB weekend up at Slate Valley in Vermont that I’m looking forward to. No training rides, just a few weeks of fun rides with friends as the weather gets nicer.

See you out there!

MidSouth Gravel 2023

on the road again …

You guys – definitely travel and ride bikes somewhere you’ve never been before.

The Midsouth Gravel is both a gravel race and an event, but the dedication to authentic inclusion makes this event stand out. The emphasis isn’t on the pointy end of the ride (the racers) but on everyday people who show up in Stillwater, OK for a weekend of bikes and community. The organizers are dedicated to creating space for everyone.

I don’t even know where to begin. After spending 15 weeks following a training plan on Trainer Road, I was ready to throw the indoor trainer out the window. Riding bikes has always been for fun, not fitness, and this was a decision to do prescribed workouts with a specific goal of getting to a baseline that would allow me to complete a very early season 100-mile ride with 91% of the course on dirt roads. But I have to admit …. the work paid off. I achieved all of my goals for MidSouth, most importantly to finish strong.

The Day Before Midsouth

Arriving late in Oklahoma City, we grabbed some food for the hour drive out to Stillwater. Very quickly we felt like we were driving through the middle of nowhere …. which we were. On Friday we hit up the Expo, checking out the vendors and picking up swag before checking in to get the race plate and pick up my bike from the bike shop.

During the rider meeting, Bobby called up all event promoters to the stage and reminded us all that events happen because someone wants to share their roads with others. That was a wildly surreal moment.

Bobby also gave an impassioned speech that we aren’t here to race bikes; we’re here to be in community. A community where everyone is loved, valued, and is deserving of a good ride. That regardless of our challenges, we are in this together. And every single person would get a hug at the finish.

the ride

If I’m being honest, I can’t really tell you about the ride. It was people on bikes on stunning red dirt roads, all moving in the same direction but at different speeds. Some had mechanical issues and sitting beside fences, waiting for the SAG jeep. Some were taking a break to eat or drink. Despite registering solo and knowing exactly one other person who had signed up (among the 2500+ registrants across all categories and events) …. I was never alone.

But I can tell you about the people I met along the way:

  • Andrea, from Pennsylvania, who was racing for Sturdy Girl Cycling. We have a mutual friend.
  • Alex, from Arizona, who also had a Cutthroat in the same colors as mine. We chatted for several miles and ended up running into each other at every aid station.
  • Zoe, a trans femme non-binary person from Alaska who exuded off-the-charts energy with a trans flag emblazoned with BLACK TRANS LIVES MATTER. Their energy was infectious.
  • Andrew, a fellow Pactimo Ambassador, who was riding the 50 miler with his sister. We were wearing the same jerseys and bibshorts, just in different colors.
  • Kenneth, a queer Latine, who chatted with me while we were filling our water bottles. He then came over to take photos with my sister and her family (who had dressed in character onesies so I could find them easier at the mid-point aid station). We caught up again at Mount Butt’r.
  • Rebecca, “how you doin’, sister?” as we barrelled down a rutted-out doubletrack. We caught up at the Chamois Butt’r Mount Butt’r aid station, chatting while relaxing in the Adirondack chairs
  • Yasmin, a stunningly gorgeous and incredibly strong rider (she passed me many times before we caught up at the aid station) AND FELLOW UNTAPPED AMBASSADOR! Thrilled to share my Salted Citrus stash with her.
  • The older woman who was blaring disco tunes from her Bluetooth radio and yelling “I LOVE YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE” to everyone she passed
  • Jim, the para-athlete who had run the 50k ultra run the day prior and was crushing the 100 mile route on a bike. He’ll be at Leadville both weekend this year – to run and cycle. Total beast and a really genuinely nice person!

Jim also gave me a compliment I will carry with me forever – as he pulled up beside me, he said “Wow, you’re strong. You look so calm and comfortable right now.”

  • Some guy on an orange bike with a white T shirt that reminded me of my friend Kyle. We yo-yo’d a few times late in the day, exchanging brief acknowledgments whenever we’d pass each other.
  • The woman I passed late in the ride with a “Deaf Cyclist” button, so I gave her visual kudos instead of yelling encouragement.

I can show you a selection of pics I snapped along the ride

PICS BECAUSE IT HAPPENED

Crossing the finish line was exhilerating. When it was my turn for the signature Bobby hug, he embraced me tightly as I thanked him for sharing his roads with me, that it was a true love letter. He effused about how this is what it’s all about and next year will be even sicker.

what went well

Having family meet me at the midpoint and end. Knowing someone was there to greet you, encourage you, and ask you about the ride so far was awesome. Don’t underestimate the psychological edge having a support crew gives you.

Training. Every day that I got on the trainer when I really wanted to just sit on the couch with my dog paid off. I wasn’t really sure someone could do hour-long structured workouts and see improvements but the proof is in the pudding. I finished strong, in under my estimated total time out, and almost exactly the ride time I wanted.

Staying open to whatever the experience would be. Signing up for an event in a location that you’ve never been before can be intimidating. Signing up without knowing anyone else who was signing up doubly so. But that allowed me the freedom to just say hi to people and talk about whatever came up.

Pancake in a cup for breakfast. Legit, always have the pancakes.

Things that could have been better

Sunscreen only works if you use it. The coating of red clay mineral loam covering me, my bike, and my stuff did not protect me from a raging sunburn.

Other thoughts

Oklahoma. I didn’t know how beautiful Oklahoma is. I think many people like me who live in more liberal-leaning areas would dismiss the state as a bunch of backward white farmers who are scared of “progress” and its less than inspiring history of where white people forcibly marched native tribes from around the burgeoning country only to then give that very land away to white settlers through five Land Runs.

While the history is true, I think it’s also important to remember that not everyone in a state or city or block – or even a single household – have the same beliefs and political leanings. When we feel smug about living in major metropolitan cities, we can blind ourselves to the people who are working to build inclusive communities in deeply traditional areas. To boycott or ignore Oklahoma for their exclusionary policies doesn’t help those who are fighting on those front lines. Spend your time supporting those communities in transforming fear into tolerance, acceptance, and eventually love.

After dropping off my bike at the shop to be shipped back to New York, Pete and I set off to explore Oklahoma City. We found a walkable downtown where we sat down for lunch in Bricktown and then wandered north to check out the new permanent installation at Factory Obscura: Mix Tape. We then stopped in to relax and have a few drinks at Skydance Brewery (the Mandarin Fluff hard cider was exceptional) before adjourning to our hotel, getting dinner, and calling it an early night because we had to be up at 4:30am to get our flight home.

You guys – definitely travel and ride bikes somewhere you’ve never been before and be open to the experience that will unfold.

See you on the road!

addendum

Things I forgot to mention:

  • Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” on repeat in my head all day; replace “making music” to “riding gravel”
  • WIND. Wide open skies meant riding West was a strong headwind; north or south was a cooling cross-breeze; and riding East was a fantastic tailwind
  • Starting the day under cloudy skies, mid-50*F temps; brilliant sun coming out around mile 20; Wind; relaxing in the shade in Perry at mile 50 with my sister, her partner, her kids, and my husband; double-track and rustic, rutted-out roads; Clouds returning after mile 68 and powerful wind gusts from the North; turning right onto a 7-mile flat stretch and motoring along as the wind shifted from the West and provided a nice tailwind; another rustic road; riding through Oklahoma State University campus as we rolled back into Stillwater; hammering it the last few miles to the finish
  • CHASE THE CHAISE. Rolling into the Mile 88 rest stop and seeing signs to be alert for furniture quickened my heart. A lifelong dream to Chase the Chaise achieved. Hoping they will send out the photos soon!
  • Bobby’s STOKE. He is the alpha and omega of stoke. For DAYS. How is this man still awake?
  • the DFL Party. The entire weekend was one huge party, which I was a bit too much in my own head to really participate in (plus, not 20 anymore). but what stuck out was the DFL Party. DFL is being the last person to cross the finish line and true to MidSouth ethos, there was a huge party for Marley Blonsky, co-founder of All Bodies on Bikes. 14 hours after the race started, she cross the finish line to receive the DFL prize – a giant longhorn skull. LEGIT – no other race does this and they absolutely should. EVERYONE deserves a great ride, not just those at the pointy end of the event.

What’s Next for 2022?

dream big

who knows.

Seriously.

2021 clearly became the Year of Bikepacking. Including overnights, I jammed 7 bikepacking trips in 5 months. Bonkers! It was incredibly rewarding and I learned a lot, which has streamlined my Go Kit and made it super easy to say YES to adventure (especially snack adventures).

But now that I’m in the chillax portion of the Bike Year, where I don’t feel like I need to “train” for “that big ride I want to do” anymore and I can just go sloth around in the woods on my fat bike, grinning like a kid.

My brain is always running around in the clouds though, dreaming of my next adventure. I’m pretty terrible at remembering things I haven’t written down (usually literally – in a notebook, on a post-it note, or as a Calendar event) here’s what I’m thinking about for 2022:

THE PLAN SO FAR

What else is on my brain?

More to come …

Coffee, Pie, and Body Image

the struggle is real

“Bring enough supplies for a non-stop ride.”

OK, roadside rest stop it is!

“If you really want to make this a roadside rest stop, we could bring our foldable chairs, coffee, and apple pie.”

this sounds amazing – let’s do it!!

text exchange with my ride partner

I love doing wacky things. The fall riding season is upon us, with cooler days and vibrant displays of color bursting forth along quiet dirt roads. I was very excited when my friend suggested we bring chairs and have a proper break to enjoy some coffee and pie mid-ride.

A few weeks removed from my Green Mountain Gravel Growler trip, I’m still feeling strong with some twinges in one of my knees. So I wore a compression brace for the hilly route and took it easy on the hills to minimize stress through my knees.

We found a gravel pull-out and set up our coffee and pie relaxation station. The pull-out is mid-way up a climb on a forest-lined dirt road … protected from the wind but with the soothing views of nature. Not long after we set up, a friend came riding down the road. He stopped to talk to us, snapped a photo of us, and then continued on. Apparently there was a gravel event doing a similar route in the opposite direction so soon we were seeing all kinds of riders fly by while we enjoyed our coffee and pie. Lots of quizzical looks and smiles as they figured out what we were doing.

Coffee & Pie Stop in the middle of nowhere

We finished the ride a few hours later, feeling really happy with how the ride played out.

I got home and started uploading photos to various social media sites to share the joy of doing something unexpected on a routine ride. That’s when I noticed how unflattering the Coffee and Pie stop photos looked.

  • this is me
  • this is also me

The photo on the left is how I feel – fit, strong, sturdy, capable of amazing things.

The photo on the right reminds me that I’ve put on weight since I started taking anti-anxiety medication. After losing nearly 30 pounds in 2 years, watching 15 pounds appear within 6 months of starting medication that helps reduce the anxious electricity that courses through my body 24/7 is … hard.

It doesn’t help that I’ve fallen off the calorie tracking wagon and given myself a bit of grace lately when it comes to food. Especially since tracking wasn’t helping to lose weight anymore, just barely maintain the added pounds. The mental payoff is definitely greater than the physical impacts. I’ve tried tapering off the meds and do not enjoy the pervasive electric buzz of anxiety that creeps back into my life. I appreciate feeling like myself, but with a clearer grasp of reality that isn’t clouded by excessive anxious energy.

My annual physical proves my activities pay off – all my bloodwork comes back great. My BMI is 27, which is overweight, but my doctor feels that is offset by my other positive factors. My home scale roughly calculates fat to muscle (29% fat and 28% muscle) – which is within the acceptable range of body fat percentage for a woman in her mid-forties.

We have only one life – I don’t want to create more stress than necessary. But I would like to see how I feel about myself reflected in photographs.

We’re heading into the off season, where rides will be shorter; less intense. Maybe this is the time to recommit myself to maintaining a healthy nutrition plan with a bit more exercise during the week. Finding that balance of family, work, personal pursuits, and healthy body image.

Thanks for reading!