Category Archives: England
Never before in my life have I been physically stopped in my tracks by the scent of flowers. Never until I moved to Seattle.
And I realized these are the first things: not medals or adventures, but the cinch of laces around a foot and reliable slide of mud and bitter perfume of sweat rising like smoke off shoulders.
I know which cashier is the fastest, which one is the nicest, and which one packs my reusable grocery bags like her own personal Tetris championship.
We’re nodding our heads, ready to keep walking, and then he opens his mouth to sing.
Dear Reader, I’m writing to you from my bathrobe. In a window seat. In a castle. In England.
My colleagues included an Australian, an Austrian, an Irishman, and a Scot. Each time we walked into a pub, the room buzzed like the beginning of the world’s most-told joke.
I was always driven by the idea of the adventure and seeing new and unique places—after all, Carmen Sandiego wasn’t going to find herself—and sought out all opportunities I could find.
In that crystalline moment, I knew that I had discovered something totally new. I glimpsed landscapes. I couldn’t speak.
As a soon-to-be professional triathlete, I have had to work to be more Type A in some areas. My coach, Zane, calls it “attention to detail” or “doing the things that matter.”