The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

My pro card went into effect January 1, 2016, but for most of the season, nothing really changed. I raced some of the same local events I normally do, this time in a separate Elite category which usually put me in a field of one. Although I got to stand alone on the podium, first in my division, I wasn't even really considered part of the overall stats anymore. I was set off to the side, almost as if I'd done a separate version of the race. They do things differently in the East & Midwest, so those races had cash prizes and a bigger Elite field, consisting of one or two other pro athletes and a handful of Elite Amateurs. But Ironman 70.3 Vineman was my debut into the real world of professional triathlon. The $50,000 prize purse brings in some of the top athletes in the world, and my name was thrown into the middle of a list published in a Triathlete.com article under the intimidating headline, "Impressive Pro Field Headed to 70.3 Vineman."

Not everyone has supported my decision to move up to the Elite category. I've seen plenty of eyebrow raises from those who know all too well that you have to be extraordinarily talented and/or (but mostly and) have access to plenty of financial resources to actually make a living off of racing. The elite license allows access to the most competitive level of racing, but does not guarantee a paycheck as other professional sports do.

But that was never my objective in the first place.

As I considered the various reasons for going pro, winning my annual salary did not even rank in my top ten.

1. Curiosity
2. Greater challenges & tougher competition
3. Preferred start times
4. Discounted race entries
5. Athlete homestays
6. A possibility of meeting Jesse Thomas
7. Street cred
8. To give the women behind me their day on the podium
9. A learning opportunity as a coach
10. Make mom proud

But were those legitimate reasons to throw myself to the wolves? To step into an arena where I was so completely out of my league?

As I considered the reasons for not going pro, I came up with a list of only one:

1. I'm not good enough.

And with that, my mind was made up.

Whether it is an old carryover from my low self esteem pre-teen years, or whether I'm simply the product of a society that encourages assumptions of inadequacy among women and girls, I'm done floating around in self-induced mediocrity.


Posted by Kimberly 07/23/2016

Vang Vieng is a small town in Northern Laos which is unfortunately a stop on the backpackers beaten trail, destroying any charm it once had and turning it into a feeding frenzy for those looking to squeeze an easy buck from the ignorant travellers. We had to stop however because just outside Vang Vieng are incredible limestone cliffs and the only climbing sites in Laos. The weather was threatening to rain but we decided we couldn't risk missing the only chance we would have. We grabbed our shoes, rented the rope and harnesses we would need from a local shop and headed for the closest, driest site.

Eager to get some real climbing in

Posted by nik 11/15/2008, revised 11/15/2008

Almost everyday, I see an animal I've never seen before. I carry my camera almost everywhere with me in the event that I can catch one of these guys in digital format to share with all of you, but it's usually pretty hard to make them stay in one place while I dig through my bag to get my camera out.

The animals are so different and exotic looking to me that every time I see a new one, I feel like I'm seeing something that's near-extinct, something that nobody's seen in the wild for the last two decades, something that hasn't been caught on camera in over 45 years! I get so excited and start scrambling for my camera, because WHAT IF THIS IS THE LAST ONE OF THESE STRANGE-LOOKING THINGS THAT EXISTS??

And then passers-by smirk and tell me it's a common brushtail possum. Not just a brushtail possum, but a common brushtail possum... I looked it up - the "common" wasn't just to spite me, it's actually in the name. I did not find the last living wild Kirwaddledoopinger. Just a common brushtail possum that was trying to steal chocolate from a lunch bag at the base of a tree on campus.

Common brushtail possum on campus

Posted by Whitney 03/08/2008, revised 03/10/2008