Updated 2015 Race Schedule and Goals

Here they are - my updated race goals for 2015!

Win a Sprint Triathlon in 2015: Goals and Challenges

A Curious Creature of Habit

This is my fourth day in Montmartre.  It is *so* amazing and cute!  Every day since I've been here, I've done the exact same thing:

1.  Wake up early to skype with Billy
2.  Breakfast at the hostel (pack a picnic lunch)
3.  Wander around the neighborhood to find things that Billy and I can do when he gets here
4.  Eat lunch and feed the birds
5.  Get some *real* coffee (fyi - this is the best coffee shop in Paris)
6.  Yoga
7.  Walk/hike up to Sacré Coeur to see the sunset over Paris
8.  Pick up quiche and veggie side dishes for dinner
9.  Chat with the cool traveler girls that are boarding in the same room as me
10.  Settle into a book and bed

I'm sad to be saying goodbye to Paris tomorrow, but so so grateful for this ten-day yoga vacation.  Today, I plan to attend my last Bikram class of 2013 (and my ninth class in a row) and then catch the New Year's Eve fireworks display from the Eiffel Tour and the Champs Elysées.

In 2014, I'm looking forward to the second half of our season, a visit from Billy in February, and, in May, a return trip to California via Amsterdam.  Happy New Year to everyone back home!

A Long Story Where Nothing Happens

This morning I checked out of my hostel in the 1st arrondissement (between the Louvre and the Pompidou), and, at around 9am headed up to the 9th arrondissement to compare a cheap apartment I found on auboncoin.fr (which is like French craigslist) with another hostel from the same company (Bureau des Voyages de la Jeunesse or BVJ - kinda like French YMCA).  I also went straight away to check out the Bikram yoga studio in Montmartre.  The studio is amazing and I can't wait to get in and get started.  Today will be my fifth day in a row and I'm feeling more determined than ever.

After popping my head into the studio (which is also beautiful and fully-equipped with mats and showers), I set out to hunt down the hostel.  It was a short five minute walk away, but when I arrived, the thick blue doors were closed and locked and there was no answer when I buzzed the front desk.  Hmmmm...  I dialed the number for this hostel and who picks up but the guy who just checked me out at the Louvre location!  Yep.  They told me this location doesn't open until tomorrow, and that I needed to go back and stay one more night at the Louvre location. So, this got me thinking that maybe the apartment was going to be the best course of action since these hostel people were not doing the most stand-out job.  Maybe if this apartment really sucks AND if the price is right...

By this time, I had been schlepping my bags all over the metro and Montmartre for a few hours and my shoulders were begging me for a break.  I found a cute little corner cafe that looked like an appropriate spot to people-watch and bang out some postcards, so I sat down at a tiny outdoor table.  After about ten minutes I realized no one had seen me sit down, so I popped my head in and asked if it was okay that I sit "there" indicating the location of my tucked away table.  They said no problem and sit down and we'll be right out to take your order.  So, five minutes later, server #1 popped out to take my order.  Cappuccino??  No problem.  I was forewarned that the milk takes at least five good minutes for her to properly froth.  I said that was absolutely fine as I was especially fond of a frothy foam.  Flash forward five minutes and out comes said server with a cigarette and a friend.  I just patiently wrote second-hand-smoked cappuccino-less postcards.  I thought for sure she's going to come right out after her cigarette break with this coffee...  Nop!  Four postcards later and almost an hour after I had originally sat down I thought, "Okay, there is no foam on earth luxurious enough to merit this wait", so I popped in to cancel my order.  My servers eyes doubled in size when I told her I was still waiting for my coffee.  She shot daggers at server #2 (who said, "Here it is!" and pulled my cappuccino out of the refrigerator???).  I told them not to worry about it and took off laughing a little to myself and in hopes of finding some speedier service...

So, there I was, installing me and my bag-lady-like assortment of gear at cafe #2.  I ordered and enjoyed a cappuccino.  Brilliant.  The bill came and forty-five minutes later I finally came to terms with the fact that no one was coming back to pick up my money and bring change (since I didn't have the exact amount).  Oh man.  Here we go again.  Ha (by now I was laughing a little less enthusiastically)!  I jumped up and loaded my shoulders with luggage and brought my tab with the money inside.  Server #2 accepted the bill with incorrect change and quickly brought it to server #1, who was casually flipping through the morning paper, and didn't even turn around, but instead burped out a "Merci!" as if to accept my incorrect change as a tip for ignoring me for an hour.  I literally stood and stared in disbelief, mouth agape, in the direction of the back of my server's head.  I honestly did not know what to do next.  Finally, the barmaid broke the silence - "Are you all settled?" she asked.  I replied, "I'm settled, but I haven't received my change yet."  Server #2 brought over my change and I rallied my caffeine-calibrated body parts to find this apartment...

Once I had properly explored this neighborhood and deemed it as safe and cheap and a great way to get out of the most touristy parts of Paris, I arrived at the apartment building as-advertised.  The ground floor was spiffy with an enclosed courtyard and glass doors and beautiful spiral staircases, but - not unlike many apartment buildings in Paris - as I climbed up six stories the stairs, the walls, the ceilings, the welcome mats appeared less and less storybook...  By the time I got to the sixth floor; there was a solid stench, the wall paper was discolored and peeling, and the ceiling was dripping with a questionably dank substance.  First, the landlady showed me the working toilet on the floor, equipped with one tiny wrought-iron-barred window.  From there she steered me down a narrow hallway, a walk that had me wondering which dingy apartment door was hoarding the toilet seat...  Haha!  Finally upon unlocking the door to possibly my own place in Paris for the next five nights, I discovered that the "apartment" was the size of my mom's walk-in closet.  Oh my gosh - so small!  Free wifi, yes, working kitchen, yes, heater, yes, clean sheets and towels, yes...  I wondered what was exactly the price of privacy (as that was exactly the opportunity cost here).  I left, thanking the landlady for her time and apologetically admitting that I was not prepared to pay 235 euro for four nights in hell (she pounced a last-minute 100 euro deposit on me - huh?).  I jumped on the bus back to the Louvre hostel location and happily unloaded my things in my original room (assuring myself that - no matter what the price - clean and safe was an unbeatable combination)...

With little time to spare, I was off to yoga!  On my walk to the studio I spotted a - hold up, what?!?! - MEXICAN restaurant.  With burrito on the brain, my concentration in class suffered, so much so, in fact, that while the rest of the class conquered the spinal and seated series' I was already settling into cheese enchiladas.  I ate and tried to grasp how much like a sitcom my day had been.  Not much of anything happened and, at the end of it all, I ended up exactly where I started.

Still, in Paris - here, where the streets are paved with poodle poop - the fun never ends!

Upholding a Moor Family Tradition

I woke up early this morning to skype with Billy and grab a decent breakfast downstairs: coffee, muesli, yogurt, and baguette with butter and honey.  Not bad! 

First order of business was to get some stronger coffee.  Then, buy some postcards.  Then, it was off to yoga.  Today, our instructor started the class in English and then asked me after the first posture of the standing series if she could teach in French for the sake of the French-speaking debutantes.  I, of course, nodded my head yes and we went along without another bump in the road.  I saw some minute progress in the back bends, but my triangle pose was really weak on the left side.  Again, a kink that will work itself out along the course of my ten days here.  After a nice shower, I started home, stopping into Sephora to shamelessly use all their testers (Sneaky or resourceful?  You choose!).  Maybe my lipstick was a little too pink because my remaining walk home resulted in blatant stares from strangers and a random guy (he must've been 20!) inviting me to a par-TEE.  I responded with awkward silence.

A restaurant in the neighborhood called Au Chien Qui Fume (At The Smoking Dog) caught my eye with a front window display of fresh seafood.  I thought, "What the heck!  It's Christmas Eve after all."  I sat down and enthusiastically ordered fresh oysters (a French tradition) and French Onion Soup (a Moor family tradition).  Though a little pricey and *a lot* lonely, this dinner treat felt right.  The service staff was nice and fast (a very unusual combination here by the way), and then the bill came.  Once I put my debit card down the staff ignored my table for a solid 45 minutes.  Were they giving me the cold shoulder? ...time to digest?  When I finally got someone’s attention, I ordered a petit café (espresso) to enjoy out on the heat-lamp-warmed terrace.  The people-watching on this night was spectacular.  A winter drizzle brought out fur collars, high-heeled boots, a million different color pea coats and the most elegant selection of umbrellas I’ve ever seen.  People were scurrying around with arm-fulls of last-minute Christmas shopping.

After writing and stamping a few postcards I walked to the Louvre courtyard where several glass pyramid structures lit up the dark stormy night.  The rain-soaked night air was refreshing, but my instincts (and my right hip) were telling me to turn in early.  So, I headed back to the hostel where a single bed warmly welcomed my yoga weary body with cotton sheets and a thin plaid flannel blanket.

J’aime Paris

My coach Maguy dropped me off at Orly airport today and, after climbing the smelly metro stairs and weaving through the streets of Paris, wet with recent rainfall, I found my hostel tucked in a touristy corner of town.  What this hostel lacked in ambiance and free wifi, it made up for in cleanliness, safety, and location, location, location.  (It's a stone’s throw away from the Pompidou, the Louvre, Notre Dame, and – this is the best part – a short walk to the local Bikram yoga studio!). 

It didn’t take me long to get settled in and then I was out the door to sniff out my second home for the week: the yoga studio!  Besides the obvious signs, like museums and Starbucks, one way I could tell I was in a touristy area is by counting the bagel and burger joints.  I found the studio without too much trouble and signed up immediately for a 10-day introductory class pass that included a mat and a shower (only 35 euros - what a deal - right?!). 

Ahhhh!  After all the delicious French food I've been eating, I'll admit my yoga costume didn't fit exactly like it used to...  Ha!  Nevertheless, it felt so great to push my hips and lock my knee for an hour and a half in the 40 degree heat and humidity.  The most difficult asanas were the back bends, which require the absence of fear, but I have faith that I will overcome that later this week.  After class, I grabbed a most delicious toasted whole wheat bagel with cream cheese (five months deep into France I figured a bagel was going to do me some good) and then stood in a long line at a Mediterranean deli next door to get fresh dolmas and hummus. 

It’s so great to be back in Paris.  I love everything about this city...  the sights, the sounds, and even the stinky smells.  

That's all for now.  More later!

... But Who's Keeping Score?

I'll admit I've got a reputation for keeping the wrong score in my own favor at home.  Some people [ahem/ahem/Billy/achoo/Gesundheit] call it "cheating".  I simply call it keeping score.

Anyway, I've been keeping this score sheet in my head since I got here.  I hope this doesn't make me seem ungrateful, because I really have been enjoying every single minute here... Just - part of that is keeping score, that's all...

	Bay Area	Tours
bikram yoga	1	0
cappuccino*	1	0
coffee	1	1
wifi on train	1	0
diversity	1	0
farmer's markets	1	0
professional volleyball team	0	1
affordable organic food	0	1
dog shit everywhere**	0	1
easy public transportation***	0	1
bike routes	0	1
nail salons****	1	0
yoga studios	1	0
food	1	1
volleyball fans	0	1
affordable housing	0	1
total	9	9

*  France does NOT GET the cappuccino.  When I get a camera, I plan on devoting an entire series of blog posts to the hilarity that they call cappuccino here.  When asked about it, they will say - that is the french cappuccino.  It is sad.  Italy needs to start a "Save Good Coffee From Becoming A Bad French Cappuccino" campaign ASAP.

**  Dog shit.  Ahhhh, France!  La merde everywhere.  Nothing against dogs (obviously, le petit chien can't do anything about his/her bodily needs), but dog owners leave their dogs' shit just lying around everywhere: sidewalks, streets, pathways in parks, you name it!  It is part of DAILY life here stepping in dog doo doo.

*** Sorry, BART, it's not that you're not easy, it's just that you don't connect to any major transportation routes easily from MY house.  The train/bus stations here are in the center of town.  Everything revolves around them...  BART, I love you, but you've still got a long way to go (literally).

****  I wouldn't have even noticed this three years ago and I'm not saying this is a good thing, but there are 20 nail salons on Park Street alone.  There are ZERO here.  Like, none.  I haven't seen one.

So, it's a dead tie right now 9 to 9 (including the nails salons and poodle poop), but who's keeping score?  :)

Yoga In Europe

Maribor, Slovenia

Hotel Habakuk
11AM everyday
Language: Italian*
Level of Difficulty: Easy flow, poses, breathing exercises, and meditation.  Level was tailored to the group.
Location: Outside of town.  Best if you're already nearby (Ex Hotel Arena, Hotel Dras, or Hotel Habakuk).

*Teacher speaks five languages fluently and customizes her instructions based on the group.

Vienna, Austria

Bikram Yoga Wien Schottering
Daily Schedule Online Here
Language: English and German.
Level of Difficulty:  It's your basic bikram beginner series.  26 postures, 105 degrees, 45% humidity.  So, in other words, it's hell here too.  ;)
Location: Downtown Vienna.  Easy access to metro and bus lines.  15 minute walk from the center of town.

Tours, France

Ella Fit
Tuesday 9:30AM, Thursday 6:15PM, Friday 6:15PM
Language: French
Level of Difficulty:  Advanced, but not cardiovascularly. This class was difficult on a metaphysical level*
Location:  Tours proper, but more specifically, Les Halles.

*Can't quite describe it...  This teacher was extremely in touch with the intangible.  He really encouraged us to LET GO and explore our curiosity and acceptance of the unknown.  He kept saying stuff like "sense this, experience it as if it's for the first time and the last time", and we'd be doing something as simple as ankle circles.  Ahaha!  This was really good for me, but I miss the challenge of Bikram.  I'm gonna have to get into Paris very soon...

Day 13 - My Lucky Day

Today, I accepted an offer to play for Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Volleyball in Tours, France.  It feels a little like jumping off a cliff because I haven't even gotten used to the light switches being on the outside of the doors!!  Ahahaha!

My to do list:

1.  Cancel flight - Sorry, Amsterdam...  Until we meet again!
2.  Cancel phone service - Nice knowing you Verizon Wireless...
3.  Defer student loans - ACS, please burn to the ground.  ;)
4.  Find a yoga studio in Tours.
5.  Find an apartment in Tours (Yes, in that order...  ha!).
6.  Fill out a copious amount of forms for visas, USA Volleyball fees, insurance, etc.
7.  Find a side job (so I can eat like an athlete, not just some regular Jean-Paul off the street)!
8.  Get more clothes shipped from home so I don't look like a schmuck!
9.  Send a batch of post cards - this time - to all my enemies...  Ahahah - jk jk!!
10.  Keep working hard...  cause that shit works!  :)

Day 7 - Vienna!

Today, at 9AM we left for Vienna in two big vans with Nick and another driver.  We arrived in no time and got out to sight-see a little in and around the museum district (smack dab in the center of town).  I stayed with a group of four girls to check out Stephensplatz Cathedral and then grabbed lunch in the square there.  I had bottled water (without gas), a plate of vegetables and a grilled cheese....  If you stick to the touristy places, the vegetarian options are mostly french fries and milk shakes.  There were a lot of tourists everywhere and I wasn't really feeling that vibe, so I ventured out on my own to hunt down Schottering Bikram Yoga studio!

It was amazing.  The class was taught in English and German.  Here's the link:  http://www.bikramyogavienna.at/  In addition to being bilingual, the instructor was also very good!  She would narrate the poses first in English and then repeat in German.  "Locke der knie [kuh-nee], locke der knee, locke... der.... knie!"   :)

I love Vienna!  I can really see myself living in this town.  There is a lot of diversity and the culture appears to be very alive and rich!  On the way back from the studio there was a huge film festival and outdoor dining event rocking out in front of the University (next to city hall downtown).  I didn't get to see any of the movies they were featuring, but it ended up being a great place to people watch on my way back to meeting up with the group.

We loaded in the vans to go to a gym in Vienna to play a scheduled match against a league there at 8PM.  Even though the Viennese league is not that strong, Omar, their head coach seemed like a super passionate guy (he even stepped in to set one game!).  Nick told us that there was a chance that we could be placed purely based on our performance in the game (IF we were able to play well enough to impress Omar of course).  I started for the American team!?!?!?! Our setter (Nevena sp?) was only seventeen and a refugee from Serbia!  She seemed very nervous, but she started to warm up to us by the second set.  At the end of the night, Omar actually requested that I play with his team - How cool is that?!?  Proof - real proof - that someone actually noticed me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  When Nick looked at me from the end of the bench and waved me over, it was like a cartoon...  I first looked at him to check that he was actually looking right at me, then I looked around to double check that he wasn't actually looking at someone else, then I pointed a myself, and mouthed "ME!?!?!?" to triple check that we were indeed looking at each other....  Ahahahahah!  Yay.  Cue the heart palpitations, shaking, pit in my stomach, etc etc.  When I went over there the coach introduced me to the team and asked me to play middle.  I almost just dropped dead right there.  Thank God I had already been to bikram and had forty mini heart attacks, so this one didn't feel that bad...  Ahahahah!  All this was fine until I realized that Nick, who is such a master fakester, was setting on the other side - Nooooo!  The pit in my stomach just kept getting deeper and darker.  We lost by a lot, but it was still a really fun time.  I ended up sucking in the middle, but at least someone finally noticed me!!!!

The fun continued at a Pizzeria across the street together with the team from Vienna (it was cool getting a chance to ask the girls about their lives in Vienna - they seemed very happy!).  After the most amazing vegetarian pasta and pizza, we said our goodbyes and loaded into the vans to leave.  We didn't get back to the Dras Center until after 2AM.  It didn't take long for me to fall fast asleep...  Life is good.  

That's all for now...  More later!

Mission: Make the Dream Team - Revised Goals for 2013

Mission: Make the Dream Team - Goals for 2012