Yeah, yeah, so it's been awhile. Those summer nights I crowed about in my last post may have sneaked back for a (very welcome) encore performance this last week, but it is quite clear that autumn is upon us. For the first time since May, I'm up to shower before the sun, and my thoughts have turned to stews and sweaters and other cool-weather necessities.

Where did the summer go? Everyone seems to ask the question - even my grandmother on the phone today. But I feel fortunate this year. I know exactly where my summer went. It went to hiking over rivers and through woods, climbing into the clouds mostly, but occasionally rising to look out over Puget Sound and the Cascade range. It took off to bike rides after work with the welcome addition of two wonderful long Kitsap County rides on consecutive weekends. It went swimming in Wildcat Lake, endless loops with endless feet in front of me, trees and streaky sunlight and rainbows and eagles whenever I turned to breathe.


Occasionally, summer went tromping down to the garden, to battle the outrageous zucchini away from the tomatoes, plants waging war against each other rather than the slugs and rabbits that were true threats. And then summer came back inside smelling that delicious tomato-plant smell for hours afterwards.

I know where summer went. It went to a frenzied spell of honeymoon planning, frenetic calls to airlines and e-mails to resorts deep in Latin American jungles and northern mountains before coalescing into a Canadian Rockies voyage that brought me my first bear sightings (grizzly AND black, we think) as well as breathtaking views of valleys filled with glaciers and the lakes that took their places.

Summer went to my cousin's wedding, and a little later to the family welcoming his sister's first baby. It went to barbecues on the back deck, to potluck gatherings to watch the Olympics.

So, I feel grateful this year, to know my summer inside and out. And I don't mean to push it out the door, but I'm ready for the fall. Summer feels like a promise realized, with its endless sunshine and constant activity. Fall, for me at least, always feels like a promise begun - not necessarily promises that always keep, but nonetheless a time for hope. It's clean, fresh notebooks, sharp pencils - modern day blank slates. We Westerners may make our resolutions to start out the New Year, but my personal reckoning comes when the natural world begins to wind down around me. What did I do with my year? What did I miss? What comes next?

And so, as part of that, I've been reflecting on this blog. In its original concept, I've finished its story and then some. I didn't actually race at all this year, save the Cherry Blossom way back in April. I trained with a tri group, but to my own ends - I rode because I was loving the bike, I swam because my personal 20 minutes of heaven came Tuesdays at Wildcat, I didn't run because I broke up with running and never saw running looking really good after that. This blog has become less a tri-athlon blog and more a tri-anything blog.

I guess the end of the original story is that while I don't think I'll ever be a super-triathlete, my triathlon experience has definitely left some lasting marks. I will be swimming this winter, and my bike will be ready when the opportunity presents itself. I believe I will do triathlons again - whether that's next year or some time from now is yet to be seen. More importantly, I know that I CAN. I can swim, bike and run, and I can do them all on the same day. I can bike 40 miles in a day, backpack 30 miles in a weekend and hike 40 miles on my honeymoon. I can study enough to pass big exams.

The blog is changing, I think. I don't know what it will become, but I hope it will stay interesting. So, my faithful few, I hope you'll stick around, and continue to prod me for posts. Even if the race reports get, um, creative. :-)