But WHY do you blog?

IMG_0683It's running time. But let's stretch that IT band first, arrrrrThis post started on sharing WHY I actually blog. Why do I express myself? Why do I share too much or not enough?

Selfish? No. To me this is my special place. Its just a little public, but its as open as I’ll ever be. Recently with the Knitty Triathlete being on lock down (for unknown reasons), I felt as though something was being taken away from me. That blog has 8 years of my life on it!


Yep, 8 years. There are times I go back into time to read about what was on my mind, catch up with my writing style then, or just to see photos of the kids. I’m sure to some, my blog looks like a selfish place. Or a …?? I don’t know.

In the end this is my place. I let YOU in. I’m not here to boast or brag, but share MY life. So again, with the Knitty being down, I couldn’t STOP. I was on a roll. Yeah, sure there can be months of me not blogging. But I am on a high on life. No one can bring me down, not even “404 errors”.


Again, I was going to share more on WHY I blog. So I started digging for photos to share on this post. I came across A LOT of photos. Flashing back through all these pictures, was a reminder to MYSELF why I blog, because no matter the up/downs/crazy I have a wonderful life and I appreciate everything and EVERYONE that has made my life amazing.


My life is colorful. Colorful people. Colorful places. Ive traveled and lived half way across the world and from coast to coast. This blog, is for my family. Marks family. My distant family. My adopted family.

I guess in the end, I don’t need to explain why I do the things I do on here. You can see with your own eyes. You can feel it in my writing (or not, hope I could at least make you giggle).

So after learning to crochet yesterday I made the hubs a beanie, but Chloe decided that it's hers

The people in my life have made me fly. I met SO MANY DIFFERENT people. My friends range from Rockstar Ironman to Ultimate Quilting Queen. Some of my most comfortable moments are cuddled up on a friends couch, knitting along with other women ranging in ages from 17-70.

My life has had thrilling moments: being attacked by raccoons in Florida, and petting a bear in Indonesia. Breath taking moments running through the National Rocky Mountains and flying down down the side of a mountain going 38 mph on my bike in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. Friends and Family have made moments like that possible.

IMG_4417Do you see that smile on @runningcaveman face? Pure happiness!!

There are also depressing reasons why I blog. I try not to be down, hell I cant read a post on depression without feeling depressed. But I have been truthful with it, no matter how taboo, or legitimately crazy you actually think I am. TYPING has helped get so much off my mind. Words I cant say. Hell there are been days when I can NOT talk. No words.


My kids are adorable and CRAZY. So much personality, it makes up for whatever I am missing. Heck whatever BOTH Mark and I are missing. Just right there I could write for days on laughter and temper tantrums.

As much as they nearly send me over the edge, they are right there with Rapunzels hair helping me  climb back on top of the world. Seeing their Dad in them helps me tremendously. When he is not here, it feels as though he is when I look into Chloe’s eyes. <— That was cheesy but its the truth.


The people I have met because of this blog are unreal. I LOVE LOVE LOVE catching up with readers and other bloggers. I seriously want to cry every time I meet one of them. Because you know they know a deeper side of you. Its a crazy feeling.

Its also crazy to meet a reader, that you DONT realize is a reader, and they seem super stalker, and you stand there scared and wonder how they know so much about you. Then they end the conversation with “I love your blog!” <— The relief and feeling of idiocy rushes through me, I’ve had this happen a couple of times.IMG_5140IMG_5472.jpg

This blog is also for family I don’t talk to. Please don’t think I am purposely ignoring you. I just don’t like phone calls, they are awkwardly uncomfortable. Also, I feel this is the best way to share with you what is happening. Trust me you will get more out of these posts then you would via a phone call.

I am sorry there aren’t more pictures of the kids. I will work on that. But check out all the photos in this post! Gotta love em right!? P.S I miss you guys (both my side and Marks side of the family).IMG_5408.jpgIMG_1475.jpg

I blog for Mark. He isn’t here much. Its his silent way of stalking me. He actually never says anything about my posts. For the longest time I was pretty sure he didn’t know that I had a blog.

One day he asked for me to print out a certain set of photos of the kids that I had in a post from a couple weeks prior. I turned to him and said “You read my blog?”, without even dropping the magazine he was reading he said “Yeah, I always read your blog. I prefer your daily posts.” <— He said it in such a classic monotone old man voice of his. Though he didn’t seem like it was a big deal, I was pretty happy (flipping OUT) that he actually reads my blog. Hi Babe!!


Sometimes people need to know I am alive. I will actually get FB messages, texts, emails and phone calls from people I rarely talk to because they are scared something happened to me. You guys are sweet… and scary….


I also blog for the set of people that contact me every way possible to let me know that they enjoy my blog, and they don’t want me to stop. I always think, its just my life, cant be that interesting? But sometimes even the simplest of things can have a story if told right.

But honestly, thank you for reading. It makes me happy inside to feel someone cares. Because I just don’t look at you as a “fan” but as a caring friend that can sit through and read through my crazy life.IMG_6195.jpgIMG_0193

Secret: But I kinda hope you like the photos, because I am not a fan of taking photos. You are probably calling B.S but its true. Since I was a kid, I did everything I can to avoid photos. I would smile with my mouth closed, and be so nervous. I was an ugly tomboy kid, man I went through a terrible ugly stage (heck you might think I am ugly now, its ok 🙂 )

My teeth. Hated them. I am still very embarrassed. There are times when old photos from middle and high school get posted, I want to instantly un-tag myself. I get so scared. But I calm down, its ok, I am alive, who cares. Not until later in life did I appreciate taking photos. Appreciate HAVING photos because I really don’t have ANYTHING (but a stash that I cant find that my mom really wants back)in the photo department.

Every selfie I take is a small heart attack and victory <— Truth.IMG_6283.jpgIMG_6411.jpgIMG_6867IMG_8172IMG_8935IMG_8946IMG_8913IMG_8822IMG_8666.jpgIMG_8624.jpgIMG_8490.jpgresizedSome Hebert Boys!Ice cream sandwiches! Ohhhhhh yeah!Loaded up! Should be good to go! Both bikes just in case :) Karaoke ALL the way! #rev3williamsburgFor my #knitting ladies :) #roadtrip half way there!#Q50 trail race!!!! I'm melting in the athlete meeting but this is AWESOME!!! #trailrunning976717_10151811477784122_570734515_o#teamprsfit putting tri bikes together! Rest of the campers are here! #tricamp @coachprsIMG_9176Catching the rides at #rev3cedarpoint @imtrigirl @rev3triUntitledThese kids have TERRIBLE nutrition manners! :) #runntri#GONAVY We are ready for some football!!My crazy lovies :) good morning!IMG_9321In Jacksonville where it all started:) Happy New Year time :) back to the real world tomorrow.We're working out, working hard and taking over Savannah :) @coachprs#familytimeScreen Shot 2014-02-25 at 12.38.32 PM#PRSFIT party at the hard rock!!! #girlsnightoutIMG_9752#gopro Goscope arrived! Just in time for tomorrow's #roadtripThe post was turning into the longest one EVER (next to the IMCDA post I am working all for KAY). Hope you understand a little of why I do the things I do in blog world. Thank you for reading. Thank you for messages.

Hope you have enjoyed a little bit more of me. Also thank you to EVERYONE in the photos above. You guys have made life interesting, and we’ve had some fun times.

C’est la vie!


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