I’m about eight weeks out from Ironman Cabo… and while I’ve been here before, each time I approach the “big boy miles” cycle of training I have to brace myself and question my sanity a little. (Yes, more than usual!)  I find myself with the the typical blunders … aches, pains, fatigue, doubt, guilt, and hunger that runs so deep …

Last week I hit 16 hours of training. That’s right, 16 hours on the bike, in the water or on the road running in the heat….oh this heat!  Usually I’m still sweating coming out of the shower — there really is no ‘clean Jules’ these days.  But that’s just part of my new normal right now – among other disturbing things.  There’s something …

I love race day, it’s a brand new script being written before our eyes. At any moment, you don’t know what’s going to come at you next… What hiccups you’ll encounter?  What kind of weather you’ll be faced with? Or, What kind of pain you’ll need to push through? So often it’s not “if something is going to happen,” but …

As athletes we always look back at previous races and reminisce… but somehow, it’s the bad ones that always come top of mind and creep in. We relive them and tell ourselves what we would have done differently and have the “what if” conversation over and over in our head.  “What if I didn’t start out so fast…?” “What if …

Little by little… day by day. Success doesn’t come over night and while I know this, it’s hard to keep pushing so hard without seeing any return.  This couldn’t be more true for me than on the bike. This has always been my weakness since I started in triathlon –  I just never could get the swing of it! I know …

Life has been a little crazy the last few weeks and I feel like I haven’t been able to catch my breath! Sometimes I can’t remember why I do this to myself? Pile on, and on, and on…. The laundry is heaping up, groceries are going bad in the fridge and our dogs are the “smelly kids” in the neighborhood …

I had been looking at that Citgo sign for miles and as I finally approached it, signaling one mile to go on the course, I started to choke up just a little. “Less than one mile to Boylston street – almost back” I thought to myself.  Luckily the tears were hidden behind my sunglasses and my legs, now running on adrenaline, …

The road to Boston can get a little bumpy and while I’m feeling pretty beat up, there is no journey sweeter as I envision approaching Boylston street again. Every runner knows, there’s only one Marathon that has the allure, history and magic like Boston. Well, its been four years – four years since my life changed forever on April 15, …

With what I think is two miles left and the infamous hill behind me, I tell myself it’s GO TIME. The course takes me and my fellow racers towards town and I remind myself to “dig deep and breathe.” But, my heart quickly falls to the ground when I see the sign for “Mile 11” – “WHAT?! Crap, another TWO MILES?” I …

“Jules, c’mon – get up here” The guys yell back to me as I fall behind again on the Saturday morning run. As I approach the trail thick trees hide all but the fluorescent t-shirt jeff is wearing and I focus intently on lime green to find my way.  My legs are screaming and my watch shows 3.89 miles. “Crap!” I think …