After a few years of going through the motions, I’ve finally decided that this phenomenon deserves a title all its own.  This weekend we’ll be heading to the bayou to kick off the tri season with New Orleans 70.3.  It sure does sound good on paper: meet up with a bunch of my ATL friends, have the original Ragin’ Cajun (MikeyG) himself give us the tour, eat crawfish, attempt to dance to Cajun music, score a beignet . . . slay myself in a half ironman.

There’s a reason why Club Med doesn’t include that last part in their vacation ads.  Nobody would call it a vacation!

And let’s consider our significant others for a moment.   They are whisked away to these fab destinations, only to deal with pre-race bitchiness (which has actually been a consistent theme the past two weeks), 3:30am race day alarm clocks, 8pm bedtimes, Powerbar breakfasts, and at any given moment may be expected to carry very heavy items, serve as bike mechanics, massage therapists, race day photographers, and short order cooks.   The pre-race bitchiness quickly transitions into post-race bitchiness, with an added pathetic theme of helplessness, as we are typically unable to do much for ourselves due to walking with a pronounced limp and extreme muscle soreness.

So to ease into the fake-ation season, we did a little fake-ation warm up.  Just a couple weekend trips — first, to San Diego, and then to Taos, NM.  San Diego was a good excuse to watch some friends race Oceanside 70.3, and to see Danny’s family, since he grew up there.  Taos, well, just because it’s totally awesome.   Here are a few of my favorite photos from the last two fake-ations.

In a real vacation, you might leave the “kids” at home. In a fake-ation, you bring the pup with you!  (We learned that Shaina is not a fan of triathlons, for what it’s worth.) Here were were enjoying the pier while all the studs were out on the bikes.  I could get used to this heart rate zone on race day…

Danny’s Dad and Stepmom were thrilled to see him.  And if Danny is half as cute and sweet as his Dad in 30yrs, we will be just fine.  (He has the same deal with me about my mom, so it’s only fair.)

We hiked around Torrey Pines and it was indeed as beautiful as I’ve been hearing about all these years.  And I ALMOST got him to take the bait on this dare…

We got lots of great pictures of the athletes out there, and I screamed my head off for Vanessa, Lauren, Nate, and some of my other buddies out there. It was pretty darn motivating to see them working their tails off and putting up such strong performances so early in the season.

Fake-ation #2: Taos, NM.  Taos is the magical mountain town in Northern New Mexico, home to the 1000yr-old ancient Taos Pueblo and once-home to famed frontiersman Kit Carson.  It’s hard to decide what I love most about Taos:   the amazing mountain views, the cool, crisp, and CLEAN mountain air, the simple, beautiful architecture, the colors, the kindness of the people, or the calmness with which people seem to go about their day.  Peacefulness.  I really loved it.

We checked out the Rio Grande River Gorge Bridge, and I tried to simultaneously enjoy the gorgeous views while remembering to breath– I was scared to death!

Don’t look down!

And a smaller, less intimidating bridge…

Love it here…

The Taos Pueblo was very cool… a 1000 yr old pueblo where people are still living as they did “back in the day” – no electricity, and no running water . . . but with that beautiful river running through their village, they don’t seem to miss it.

I will spare you the 500 other photos we took. I just love it. I love the peace, the calm, and the beauty.  So for a fake-ation, it was pretty good!

The real fake-ation action starts this weekend in NOLA, and it will be quite an event with some very strong talent racing.  I look forward to going out there and doing my very best, as always.  I had a good talk with my coach recently about believing in myself, and not worrying about who else is out there.  I am going to race with confidence, within myself, and celebrate the fact that I am out there among the big cheeses of our sport.  Nobody will remember placements, splits, or other race day details in 20 years, but I will remember that I stepped up to the challenge when I was able to do so.

Today’s parting shot comes from one very gutsy puppy we saw in San Diego at the race site. He jumped right into this big dog’s “personal space,” threw a few punches, and challenged the stranger a few times. It was adorable. The best part was when he actually took the big dog’s leash in his mouth, fearlessly, and stood his ground.

Kinda gives you something to think about . . .

Best wishes to everyone racing NOLA this weekend for a safe, fun, and challenging event.  And if you feel like you’re going up against the big dogs, well, take a page out of this pup’s book and jump right into the mix and have fun with it.  That’s what I plan to do… who knows, maybe I’ll hold onto a few leashes this weekend?

If you’ve ever received an email from me, you’ve seen my favorite quote at the bottom:

“You’ll never reach new oceans if you’re afraid to lose sight of the shore.”

While I’m pretty scared of the ocean and all the things in it, I do love that quote and all that it represents.  To me, it means that I should always keep my eyes and heart open, trust my gut, and not be afraid to take a leap of faith.

Easier said than done. In my 20s, I did it all and have the photos, journals, passport stamps, and memories to prove it. My heart is forever touched by all the wonderful moments as well as enormous challenges that I encountered, and the tough times were usually overshadowed by the “new oceans” I discovered in the end.  No regrets.

Even in triathlon (hell, ESPECIALLY in triathlon) I feel I need to take that “leap of faith” every time I step up to the starting line.  Challenge myself.  Push beyond previous barriers.  And trust that I will make it.

But making big moves gets tougher as we get older.  Ever noticed how little kids don’t think twice before attempting a wheelie or jumping off the high dive?   Why did I freeze up?  This was not an easy decision at ALL, but it’s a wonderful opportunity and I KNOW, I trust, that this is the right decision.  It WILL be because I will MAKE it.

I have accepted a position as an Account Manager with AmeriPath, managing all of New Mexico and El Paso, TX (isn’t Ciudad Juarez the kidnapping capital of the world?!) and based out of Albuquerque.  I wasn’t looking for a change or a big move, but a former manager called me when he got in with this company, and encouraged me to join. The more I learned, the more I realized that it’s a fantastic opportunity.  I’ll be selling anatomic pathology services (think tissue and genes and a lot of cancer diagnostics) and developing an expansion territory.

My first big objective in my new job is to learn how to spell the city that I’ll be living in.  The second is to learn how to say anatomic pathology in Spanish.  I am up for the challenge!

Moving back to the Southwest is a dream.  Big skies, beautiful sunsets, the mountains, the (high) desert, the active lifestyle . . . and so much closer to my mom and my sisters (PHX and LA).  I never considered myself an Atlanta girl but there was one thing that made this decision so very difficult: my coach and my involvement in The Sport Factory over the past 4+ years.  I am pretty certain that I would not have been this happy living in Atlanta had it not been for Matt Russ and his incredible coaching, friendship, and ass-kicking on a daily basis.  We have grown an incredible team of athletes of all levels from the ground up and have established The Sport Factory a premier coaching and training resource in the country.  It is EXCITING to be a part of something like that, to influence it, to motivate it, and to BE motivated by it.  I am so proud to be a part of this organization . . . and have unequivocally decided that I will absolutely stay involved to the extent that I can via the web, phone, and the occasional in-person harassment.  I’m not leaving what has added so much to my life; I’m just changing zip codes.

This move is happening fast. I will soon be road-tripping across country, and by July 5th I will be moving into my new digs in the foothills of the Sandia Mountains in Albuquerque.  I look forward to sharing many photos du jour (del dia!) of the beauty that surrounds me in my new casa, but till then I will settle for scamming photos off the internet in attempts to seduce you with New Mexican beauty and encourage visitors.

To my close friends and family who have supported me through this process, I thank you. Thank you for your support and encouragement as I have been a bit of a mess lately while juggling it all.  Thank you to my coach who has given me his support and understanding, and tolerated my crazy life while still trying to be a triathlete.  Finally making a big decision is almost therapeutic, though, and I am now incredibly excited for the challenge that awaits.

If you’re around next weekend, swing by Pure Taqueria SATURDAY, 6/26 Alpharetta from 5-7pm so I can say goodbye! Nothing formal as I know everyone is busy (and some are racing the next morning), but if you’re around I’d love to see you before I take off.

http://www.puretaqueria.com/

103 Roswell Street, Alpharetta, GA 30009-1931.  (678) 240-0023

If I don’t get to see you, don’t think you won’t hear from me again! I will definitely be “around” still and look forward to keeping an active role in this amazing team/organization / community we have!

So, here’s to losing sight of the shore.   I am pretty sure I won’t find any new oceans in New Mexico, but I will at least find the Rio Grande!

But it was worth it.   Of course the trip was for the race, but it was still a great experience. Here are a few shots from our collective cameras of the rest of our time in Western Australia.

Hoping Ben remembers to STAY LEFT!

Jun, Jim, and I jumped into Ben’s smurf-like rental car (it was blue, too), and headed towards the beautiful area around Margaret River, a popular wine-making region with gorgeous beaches and just gorgeous everything.

Sorry I got in the way of your scenery pic, J!

We tasted some vino and tried to be classy. “Try” being the operative word.  My remnants of bloody road rash and the guys’ “post-race-pimp-limp” didn’t help our attempts at looking refined. But we tried.

Wine Snob Ben: you're so busted! You're supposed to hold it by the STEM!

Then we were driving down the road and someone yelled, “Hey- stop! Roos in the field!“   I swear, you’d think we saw unicorns.

We climbed out and ran into the field to see this awesome sight:

That's what I call vertical oscillation. Coach Matt would have a field day with this one.

Yes, he chased them. Who has the higher VO2?

We found some kickin’ Thai carry-out and found nice seating for four on this gorgeous, empty beach.

I love Jun!

Jim and Ben decided to swim out to this rock. Being the martyr, I stayed back to take pictures.

So what’s next?

I had qualified to race Clearwater (70.3 World Champs) this year and was still holding out hope to be able to race it.  I got in the pool last weekend, and promptly got out after about 10min of dizzy dizzy swimming.  I guess my noggin’ just wasn’t ready. It’s ok– base training is here for me and I’m totally ok with it.  It’s been an awesome year.

Some new friends sent me this picture from race day.  I love this photo (not because I look so glam — don’t hate me because I’m beautiful), because it pretty much says how I felt on race day — and every time I’m racing on my bike.  I was having an ABSOLUTE BLAST on the bike!   That’s what this is all about.  Let’s face it–  the longer we do this stuff, the more likely that *crap* is gonna happen.  I have several friends who have had some tough challenges in recent races, whether it’s a bad ref call, a DNF, a mechanical, a health-related issue, or just not the desired result.  I guess the challenges just help us appreciate the HIGHS. I am so glad I have this photo to remind me of why I love doing this crazy sport and how much fun racing is.  It makes all the hard work worth it.

Can’t wait for 2010!

Pre-Head-Banging. FIRED UP!

I think it’s funny that my last post was titled “T.G.I.Don’t.Know.”

I DIDN’T know a lot of anything after the race. I was totally out of it.  So the verdict is that I had some sort of concussion, as evidenced by my complete cluelessness as to how I ended up on the side of the road.  It’s scary to think of what could happen without a helmet, if falling on a turn (at low speeds) turned me into a rambling mess.  I have been told I’m thick headed, which, when combined with a good helmet, may not be such a bad thing. 

So my little email from my blackberry in the med tent was before I totally had it together (obviously).  I don’t really remember calling Danny but I do remember crying for a long time.  After I calmed my butt down, I realized what happened.   My previously ominous post, mentioning my concern for a crowded course, was spot-on, but it wasn’t the cause of the crash.   This was a very different course to race, because it consisted of 4 x 12mi loops.  Consider so many athletes (pros and amateurs all racing different speeds) stuffed into 12 miles with 4 tight u-turns per loop, and there doesn’t leave much space for each athlete.  As a result, I was definitely over-paced and out of my typical wattage range, but I was just trying like hell to move up and keep a clean race. There were some really strong age group men, and the only way to avoid a drafting penalty was to either drop back, or push harder and go past them.  I chose option #2.  The swim was incredibly hard, long, choppy, and into the current and waves the first 1800m— all the athletes were slower, and I was wayyyy slow.  So I had some catching up to do.  And I was doing it!  By the end of the 3rd loop, I was on pace to bike a sub-2:08, which would’ve been with the top girls on the bike.  But — COULDA WOULDA SHOULDA, right?   I made the tight u-turn and one of those reflector bumpy things in the road got in my way (WHO PUT THAT THERE?!) . . . and that was all she wrote. 

Next thing I know I was howling on the side of the road, crying hysterically, and just repeating, “But I came so far!! I want to race!!”   … yet completely confused as to how I ended up there.  (Not a good way to convince them to let you back on your bike.)

The funny thing is that I am very careful on the bike. I had never had a crash or a DNF, and I attribute that partly to the fact that I am so careful (but mostly lucky— it’s bound to happen).  I’m not upset anymore; I’m just grateful that it wasn’t worse. I have friends who have been VERY badly injured in bike wrecks (Mikey, Matt, Pam…) and I am just walking away with some good bruises and road rash, all of which will heal. Thanks so much for all the nice words/notes on Facebook and email… I was really feelin’ the love.  I mean that.  The big picture is a GOOD one, and I’m feeling nothing but gratitude at this point– no longer disappointment.

A big part of that is because I have met some great people here and we have had an awesome few days exploring Perth and other areas of Western Australia.  Over the next couple days  I’ll post more photos. Stay tuned for wine tasting, kangaroo chasing, and delish pad thai on a completely deserted beach. 

Before the race: Adam Jensen, Head Banger, Becky Witinok-Huber, & Jim Lubinski.

On a mission, but headed for asphalt.

Med tent: race over.

Team USA’s Tim O’donnell was crowned the 2009 Long Distance World Champ — big congrats to this former military officer on a wicked fast race. Well done, Sir!

World Champ Tim!

The flight was long (I think all of Monday was just sucked into a black hole) and I have no idea how many time zones I crossed, but I’m pretty sure we were fed a meal in each one of them (and I am not one to turn away a good meal…)  Other than the culinary delights mid-flight, the other bright spot was the beautiful Emirates Airlines flight attendants’ uniforms. Is this the coolest thing you’ve ever seen or what? She looks like a Middle Eastern I Dream of Genie.   I couldn’t help but think this would make a killer Halloween costume. She posed for my camera (after asking me to email it to her for her Facebook page– I love it!) but alas, wouldn’t give up the goods for my Arabic Princess Costume Aspirations. 

I really got lucky with my homestay— Peter is a local triathlete and is just the coolest guy. He’s been very accommodating and totally helpful.  I also met a great family from NJ on the first flight over here, and we’ve been BFFs ever since, spending most days together and doing various day trips to see the  sights.

Here are a couple shots of biking around gorgeous Rottnest Island.  No cars, just bikes here.  It served as a penal colony for Aboriginals. I would give you more info but I was too busy looking at quokkas (rat-like marsupials) to pay attention to the tour.  So much about this island reminded me of living on Galapagos, hence my big-ol’ smile.  Brought back a great feeling. 

My ever-astute mom, who is not distracted by beautiful beaches, immediately pointed out the unsavory name given to the island. She’s right… it was named by a Dutch explorer and evolved from what we would say “Rat’s Nest,” due to the rodent-looking locals running all over this otherwise perfect little chunk of island off the coast of Perth.  As a result of the Dutchman’s untrained eye, he incorrectly labeled these poor little marsupials.  Yes, they are pouch animals (like kangaroos), and keep their little Joeys in their pouches. So, not rats, but the name stuck. 

Being a MARSUPIAL, I like him better.

We also took a drive up to Yanchep National Park, about an hour north of Perth, to see the koalas and kangaroos. I couldn’t help but think of how silly we looked snapping pictures and squealing with delight at the sight of a kangaroo, which is probably as common as seeing a DEER back home.  I guess that’s the beauty of traveling— ignighting the senses and feeling excitement over the small stuff.  At any rate, I LOVED IT. 

PASSED OUT, DRUNK ON EUCALYPTIS LEAVES KOALA.

CARB-LOADING KOALA

I-WANNA-CHEW-HIS-FACE-OFF KOALA

Is that a joey in your pouch or are you just happy to see me?

ROUGH-HOUSIN' ROOS!

Me being all roo-like.

But let’s not forget why we’re here. 

THE RACE.  Yesterday I met the others on the U.S. pro team— all really cool and we had a great time at the country presentation dinner (and crushing that killer dinner).  I’m truly honored to have been selected for this team and will give it my very best.  I swam a bit in the Swan River, and am trying to deal with the fact that the race will likely NOT be wetsuit legal for pros now. (We’re a fraction of a degree too warm at this point… pray for a freeze tonight.)  The only thing I’d hate more than swimming 3k  . . . is swimming 3k without a wetsuit.  But as  they say here:  NO WORRIES, MATE.  

The bike course will be four loops to total 48 miles. I’m a bit concerned with the age group men behind us and the congestion of the course. This distance is definitely a race for the swimmers, and I NEED to open up and bike the hell out of that course– I really hope I can.  I have made some gains in my run lately and I can’t wait to get off the bike and see what I can do. There are some phenomenal athletes here and that truly motivates me, just knowing I’m a part of it.  

Thanks for checking in. There won’t be any online coverage for this race but we take off at what is 8pm Saturday night in Atlanta . . . so while you guys are livin’ it up back home, send me speedy vibes!  I’ll try to post a quick update post-race, but if you don’t hear from me, you can thank a bull shark.  Just sayin’. 

Travel was a big part of my life before triathlon. Now, if I can ever combine the two, I jump at it. It’s certainly not the same kind of adventure that I sought out before, but it’s still an adventure, albeit a different one.  I’m not sure what’s more painful: overnight Ecuadorian buses, or racing endurance events?  Strangely, I find them both gratifying in their own way.

A month or so ago I  applied to race on the U.S. Pro Team for ITU Long Distance Worlds in Perth, Australia. While I thought it’d be a long shot, I figured I’d have nothing to lose, and if I got it, well, it would pretty much be one of the coolest excuses that I’ve ever had to travel across the world for a race!

Last year I had to bail on Belgium after the hip injury, so getting to wear that uniform a year later is a wonderful turn of events.  I was VERY pleasantly surprised to get selected for this one.

Then, something funny happened.  While I’d like to say my focus was most definitely on the TRIATHLON, I have to admit that I was far more intrigued with the destination.  As a result, my “research” into the race was just shy of Kindergarten level.  The whole time I thought it was a half ironman distance race.  Nope.  It’s 2x olympic distance.  Let me spell it out for you:  3k swim, 48mile bike, 12.4 mile run.

THREE THOUSAND METER SWIM . . . with a SHORTER bike.   Not exactly how I would’ve designed it, but for some reason ITU didn’t consult with me prior to laying out the plans.  The nerve.

So it’s definitely a race that plays to the swimmers, but it will be fun to get out there and rip it up to the best of my ability.  I feel great on the bike and run and am so ready to race again.  I love that it’s a flat course, and did we forget that it’s AUSTRALIA?  I mean, who really cares about a few (thousand) extra meters to swim? 

I depart this weekend and the race is on Sunday, October 25th.  I plan to keep the bloggy alive and kickin’, and will post photos along the way, so stay tuned.  I am super stoked to be flying the pimped-out Emirates Airlines, with a layover in Dubai.  Nothing like a brief R&R in a rich oil nation’s airport.  It’s gotta be better than Lima, Peru, right?  (But we did have fun there, didn’t we, Bianca?!) I am trying to coerce my (Lebanese) mom into giving me a crash course in Arabic over the next 5 days, so that I can order my tabouli and grape leaves like a pro.

More to come.  Thanks for checking in.

Twelve years later, after returning from Ecuador, I came home to my mom’s house in Akron and went through some old stuff I had in boxes.  Seeing that old list on lined notebook paper, with my big, seemingly unattainable dreams and goals scribbled in pencil (with smiley faces drawn in the margins), I had to smile.

Amazingly, the Peace Corps was on the list.  I don’t remember evening knowing much about it at age 13, but somehow I ended up joining at age 22.  I also wanted to study abroad, to learn a new language, and to make it to State in high school track!  I wanted to go on a safari and I wanted to drive across the country.  (Little did I know that choosing ASU would mean at least 4 cross-country road trips, one solo, and most of the nights spent in tents in state parks with my college roommate. Careful what you wish for, right?)

I think there was also something about getting Jason Kucharski to ask me to “go” with him, too, but hey, you win some and you lose some. Jason never did fall in love with me, but I survived that heartbreak, as well as a few others along the way.

Except for stealing Jason’s heart, I was amazed at how many of those “wishes” actually came true.  I don’t remember actively staying on top of that list back then, but I do think that writing it down somehow filed it in my brain, and the wanderlust and desire for adventure never quite escaped me moving forward.

In every business, leadership, and sales training course I’ve taken, I’ve learned that to achieve our goals, we must OWN them. Write them down, look at them regularly, and let them be a part of you.  Back in the 8th grade, I don’t think I was doing anything more than using my #2 pencil to transfer my big dreams into just another diary entry, but it was fun at the time to truly put NO limits on what I wanted to get out of my young life and to see how creative I could get with my big, fat wish list.  Kids have no fear dreaming big– have you noticed that?  What the heck happens as we get older? Why do we start to limit ourselves? What in the world are we afraid of?

This photo was taken at the top of Table Mountain on our last day in Cape Town, South Africa. I finally got all my photos off of my camera today, and when I saw this photo it made me smile.  Not because I look so fabulous (joke), but because of what I see around me.  It’s simply breathtaking.  We were at the southern tip of the African continent, so far from where I started, and a little bit closer to where I want to be.  Not geographically speaking, but where I want to be in the sense of not fearing new things, always putting myself out there to achieve BIG goals, or at least start chipping away at them, and essentially . . . dreaming big.

What’s in your bucket list? I’m ready to start a new one.  Not the practical stuff, either.  The BIG stuff.  How many people say that they want to go on a big adventure but never do?

My sister Lauren had been talking about going to Thailand for a few years. She finally did, solo, this past December. I didn’t think she’d go through with it. She had the time of her life and I was so proud of her for actually facing her fears (let’s face it — it’s scary to do that alone) and totally stepping outside of her comfort zone.

(Sorry, Lou, but I stole this from your Facebook page.)  Love the hat.

Time to whip out your #2 pencil (or just log into your facebook page, blog, or twitter— modern day diaries) and just let it flow.  Fill up that bucket and don’t hold back.  It’ll be pretty cool to look back years later and see how many you’ve crossed off the list.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xo6NRB1BYM

I wish every race/trip was this much fun.  What an awesome experience.

My feet were too tender to wear anything but the evil flip flops for the following six days.  This apparently is where the trouble happened. Who doesn’t love flip flops? Cute, non-committal, easy to wear . . . but caveat, my friends: hell on your feet!

Pain. Lots of pain on the inside of the foot.  I couldn’t figure it out.  Paranoid, I hobbled to the podiatrist and he did a little digging to uncover this big mystery.  Walking around in flip flops (and barefoot in my house) seems to have been the culprit.

I used to snap pictures with my camera phone of my high heels and send them off to a little Elf friend of mine, just to get under her skin. She would always rip on me for wearing heels and I think I even remember a comment about flip flops.  In return, I would rip on her for her orthopedic shoes.  OK Elf, you win.  This time.  

Beware, runner friends:  use the flip flops only to protect you from shower fungus after Masters swim practice.  Other than that–  lace up!!!

This week and next are all about building for New Orleans. I’m still frustrated with my speed (or lack thereof) at this point, but I also know that it’s still early. (Can I keep saying this in August?!) Little by little — I know.  New Orleans may just be a big Cajun mess, but at least I have a very special person flying in for “team support!”

Can’t wait to see you, Lou!!!

It was a gorgeous drive along the coast to get to Gansbaii, the jump-off point for “Shark Alley.” 

We arrived and boarded our boat along with a couple from Spain on their honeymoon. I can think of nothing more romantic than jumping in a cage so you can see a man-eater 12 inches from your face. 

It was only about 10min from shore where we anchored.  Yeah, they’re that close.  The visibility in the water unfortunately wasn’t too good that day, so I actually had a better view from the top of the boat. (It wasn’t cuz  I was scared or anything…)  Ha!   Actually, one of my first questions for the guide was if the great whites meander over to the other (colder water) side of the Cape — where our race was. 

“Absolutely.  They go everywhere.  If you’re in the water, just know that there are sharks around you.”    He did make it clear that we don’t need to fear them, though.   WHATEVER.   I just hope for poor water visibility in every ocean swim I ever do, because if I ever SEE one of these creatures, I’ll absolutely lose it.

OK so since I essentially already SWAM with great whites according to our guide, then getting into a cage is really just child’s play.  What do I have to prove?!  I stayed warm and dry on the top deck and just kept snapping away.    And taunting the poor suckers in the “bait cage.”

Enjoy the photos/videos, and I apologize up front for ruining your open water swims.   If it makes you feel better, just know that everyone in the cage could not see the sharks until they were within about 1 foot of them.  Seriously.  So if the water is murky, we’ll never know anyway!  (OK, that didn’t really make me feel better either!!)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OItGL2eMNc

www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWQFa5TDh7Q

I’m pretty sure I didn’t “conquer” my fears, but I was surprised how much I loved seeing them.   From the boat of course!