Lucky Me

There are times in my life when I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for the here and now, and can't help but feel so incredibly lucky for all of my blessings. Sorry for the sap, but this morning is one of those times. I woke up as the sun peaked over the horizon, snuggled in between my Mouse and my Butters (aka the puppy), to the sound of the waves crashing into the beach below us. It was so perfect, my heart just melted. I couldn't have dreamt a better start to my day.

My boys rolled into town yesterday afternoon, so we can spend a long weekend together. We've set up camp at the San Clemente State Beach campground, perched high above the Pacific Ocean. We spent last night around the campfire, making s'mores and drinking wine. Today we've got beach play and hiking on the schedule. My raging allergies aside, this is going to be an ideal day, and a well-deserved weekend together.

A Desert Oasis

One of the best things about being able to consider myself a Las Vegas semi-local is that there is always something new and exciting to discover.  And I'm not just talking about exclusive nightclubs or over-priced restaurants, either.  As I've mentioned before, my trips back to Vegas tend to be more low-key and usually include an outdoor element.  This weekend's trip was no different.  Saturday, of course, was dedicated to the Pumpkinman Triathlon.  Come Sunday, my tri buddy and I were too exhausted to do anything too crazy, but we definitely wanted to get outdoors and enjoy the beautiful autumn day.  This is how we stumbled upon Wetlands Park.

A wetland in the desert?  What??? The notion simply seems counterintuitive.  But, believe me, it exists.  (And I definitely had my doubts.)  This nature preserve, which is located just miles from the strip, off Tropicana, is proof that life can spring from the most barren of environments.  There are ponds with ducks, a rushing river (or run-off, whatever), and much more greenery than one ever gets to see naturally in Clark County.  It was a refreshing departure from the usual harsh landscape of the desert.  The "hiking" trails are more akin to nature walks, so exploring the park was cake, but we were okay with simply enjoying our laid-back day.

If you frequent Vegas, this park is worth checking out.  You can visit the Clark County Parks & Recreation page for more information.

Tri, Tri Again

I guess I shouldn't be surprised.  I really haven't been training.  It's been tough to get myself into any sort of groove since I took this travel assignment in SoCal, after all.  I've been able to (somewhat) keep up with my running, but my biking and swimming have definitely suffered.  If I had been logical, I would have expected my Pumpkinman time to correlate, but I had high hopes.  (Or delusions of grandeur.)  I had my newer, fancier, faster bike, and was (seemingly) getting stronger with every race.  Despite my usual pre-race self-doubts, I really thought I was going to beat last year's time by at least a few minutes.  No such luck.  I still set a PR, but only by 20 seconds.  How humbling.

Still, the 2013 Pumpkinman Olympic Triathlon will go down as a good race in my book.  The weather was perfect.  The water was calm.  The winds remained tranquil, and the often-blistering Vegas heat cut us some slack.  My swim was a little slow, but strong.  My ride was more of the same.  The bike course was brutal, but that's a given when racing at Lake Mead.  My run felt great, but I should have pushed my pace just a little more.  In truth, my only real criticism of my performance is that I didn't take enough chances, or push myself hard enough.  I guess that's a lesson I needed to learn.

All in all, it was a good day.  I got to race and hang out with friends on a picturesque fall day.  What could be better than sprawling in a park post-race, downing cold beers?  It was truly everything a race day should be, so, despite my lackluster performance, I really can't complain.

Tomorrow I make the long, hot drive back to the OC.  But I have more than work, work, and more work to look forward to this week.  Yup, at the end of my three, my husband and puppy will be in town to spend some time with me.  So I'm more than ready to tackle this week and the challenges it may bring, as there is an incredibly bright and comforting light at the end of this tunnel.  I guess this is when countdown begins...

Vegas Bound

After three long nights of work, and one really good night of sleep I'm off to Vegas. The Pumpkinman Triathlon is tomorrow, and, as is my tradition since living there, I'm competing in the Olympic distance. I'm praying for a cool, calm morning, but the desert weather can be unpredictable and unforgiving, so who knows what tomorrow will bring? Wish me luck!

All In a Day's Work

Have you ever left work convinced you smell like poo? That you've been around the offending substance for so many hours, and in such large quantities, that the stench has diffused into your pores and stubbornly clings to each and every strand of your hair? That, no matter what you do, you cannot get the rancid scent out of your nostrils?

Chances are, if you're not a nurse, you probably haven't. Lucky you.

I, on the other hand, am not so fortunate, and today is one of those mornings. Which, of course, means last night was one of those nights. I'll spare you the gory details, but it would be safe to assume there was an abundance of poo. Think overflowing rivers. (Sorry for the visual. I couldn't help myself.)

I'm not sharing this to complain or make anyone feel sorry for me. If anything, I hope it makes you laugh. Believe me, I laughed all night at the grotesque ridiculousness of the situation. I couldn't help myself, because, quite honestly, it was the only thing I could do. (That and clean my patient many, many times.) I couldn't get mad; it wasn't her fault. The poor dear wasn't even conscious to realize what was happening. Even if she was, it would have been out of her control. It was the perfect storm of tube feedings and bowel meds. Besides, as all nurses know, sometimes (and all too often), poo just happens.

So, now that my night in fecal hell has come to an end, I'm headed home to scrub myself from head to toe. I've never been so excited to step foot in my shower and wash away the evidence of my unfortunate night. Oh well - eventually I'm bound to come clean.

Kind of makes you reevaluate your definition of a "bad day", right?