Sarah Borst Jarvis

Not a bad place for some soul searching... I figured I owe you guys a bit of an update on this injury of mine. I don't use the term injury lightly. I've had niggles and issues here and there. Some more persistent than others. But in 20 years of triathlon training and racing, this is the first time that I am truly injured. The first time that I've missed a race due to injury, let alone half (or more) of a season. So when I tell people that I am injured and their next question is So when's your next race? or Are you biking this weekend? I am a bit confused and realize that the word injury doesn't mean to them what it means to me.  I am not going to sit here and whine. I am also not going to be philosophical or introspective. Maybe in another blog post... If you know me, you know what NOT being able to ride my bike, run on beautiful trails, or hop in a lake for a swim means to me. As G. Melton says: Life is brutiful . There is much suffering (on many dif

frolicking on the beach  I had been really excited for my trip to Ironman Texas and once it became clear that racing (and training) was not an option for the near future, I began to make other plans. Karl and I made an arrangement after we realized that we will be at his parents for longer than originally hoped for: I would get to go on a little trip once a month. Or maybe I just told him that's what I was going to do. Can't remember. Knowing myself and how much not being able to train affects my mental health, I was keen to take a break from doctor visits and physical therapy appointments here and there to do the things that make me feel alive and bring me joy . As soon as Texas was off the table, I called my good friend Anne and booked a flight to  Portland . I had been wanting to visit her for so long but money and time away from home is usually allocated to racing. Might as well make the best of a shitty racing season! So at the end of May I took the train to Salt