Usually, I hate Memorial Day. Mostly, because I hate thinking about people I care about who have died (both literally and figuratively). After debating all morning (and eating lots of chocolate and ice cream), I decided this Memorial Day would be productive, rather than depressing or self destructive.
I headed up to Park City and went on a super rad trail run. Trail runs are my FAVORITE!
Then, I did something I have been planning for years and Memorial Day seemed very fitting. I got a tattoo. Not just some dumb tattoo, but one with A LOT of meaning. 3 Years ago, I tore a tendon in my ankle that should have ended my running career. I made sure that it didn't. I have always wanted a tattoo near that scar just to say "suck it scar! I can do anything I set my mind to!" The Roman Numerals are 26 for 26 miles. And if you look closely in the wings, you will see the letter B, in memory of my brother-in-law Byron who passed away, and I miss every day. It's just a little tattoo, but it means a lot to me, and I am so glad I finally got it!
Back to the Grind this week. BOOOO!
PS--- If you're looking for me, I am probably near some camp fire roasting my FAVORITE summer treat!