Ad Astra Per Aspera-Through Hardship To The Stars

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Ad Astra Per Aspera-Through Hardship To The Stars

Ad Astra Per Aspera, the Latin phrase meaning “through hardship to the stars,” has been my motto for the past couple of years, as I have faced much adversity in my endeavor of competing as a professional in the sport of triathlon. Of course I anticipated challenges, but certainly not the challenges I have faced. And while the stars were not the stars that I had dreamed of, as I had dreamed of athletic achievements and being a fixture on the podium at professional races,  those stars have turned out to be even better than I could have imagined.

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How am I doing?

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How am I doing?

It has been 3 months and my life is finally returning to a state of normalcy, after weeks of being primarily homebound, unable to do much besides sit in a recliner chair. I can drive again, so I don’t have to rely on a chauffeur (mom and dad), to take me to work or to doctor’s appointments. More importantly, I am regaining my wellbeing-both physical and psychological, as I am able to run and ride my bike, and I am back in the pool at 5am Master’s swim practice. 

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Putting the Past Behind Me-Peace out 2015!

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Putting the Past Behind Me-Peace out 2015!

Happy New Year! And I am putting a BIG emphasis on happy. There are probably very few people in the world that are as joyful as I was to say goodbye to 2015, not that I want to turn it into a competition, as that is not exactly one I really want to win. 2015 was a year where loses outnumbered the gains, and by no small margin. Of course I celebrated my achievement of a lifelong dream when I graduated from medical school in May, and I valued my first (abbreviated) season as a professional triathlete, but even these great moments could not really fill the void of all that was lost, let go, and left behind.

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I am not in Kona, and that's OK.

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I am not in Kona, and that's OK.

The social media feeds of triathletes everywhere are being inundated with pictures of six-pack abs, lava fields, and the crystal blue waters of Kailua Bay. It can feel like watching ESPN around the holidays with the endless commercials for luxury cars and diamond jewelry that leave you thinking to yourself, “Haven’t I seen this a million times already?”  With new episodes of Breakfast with Bob coming out every single day and those scenic Korupt Vison photos and videos, for those of us who are not actually there it is easy to feel a little bit of jealousy and FOMO.

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No Stranger to Comebacks

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No Stranger to Comebacks

I am no stranger to comebacks, as I have been coming from behind since day one. I was born nearly two months early and needed the help of a ventilator to breathe, and was hooked-up to all sorts of lines and tubes during my 5 week stay in the Neonatal ICU. I do not remember a time where I was lagging in reaching my developmental milestones, and some of my earliest grade school memories are of me beating almost all of the boys in the mile run during gym class in the first grade. I think I made quite a comeback from being the 3lb newborn to being a standout high school runner, a Division I athlete, and now a professional triathlete.

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Heart over Head

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Heart over Head

Warning: this post will be filled with some heart-felt sentiments that may lack rationality and factual backing. If you are the type of person who lives their life on the basis of proofs and actualities, you may find this post nauseating. I also must disclose my conflict of interest:  I am a female pro triathlete. Now, this post is not intended to persuade you to believe in or support the movement of #50WomentoKona, rather I wanted to share why I feel, in the most emotional of senses, there should be an equal allocation of spots for professional triathletes at the 70.3 and Ironman World Championships.

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