What is a cathedral? A piece of artwork, architecture, culture, a place of sanctuary or a place of sacredness? Where do you fall into this definition? As a westerner, it is hard for me to understand life without some form of Christianity; whether it is the undivided faith or the knowledge of the Christian myths, it is prevalent throughout western culture. I, for one, was raised Anglican. I was never devout, although I did identify on some level with the church. It gave me refuge when I sought it, always welcomed me when I ventured in, and never judged me in my absence, but it was never a solid identity for me either. My identity as a Christian was challenged last summer when I wrote my senior thesis on Paradise Lost. Suddenly, I was being asked to look at the Christian myth as just that, a myth. No different than the Roman or Greek gods that captured my fantasy as child. But this myth, my myth, I was forced to recognize the possibility of Christianity being a similar fantasy. It was a challenge at the time; to take something so personal and analyze in an academic setting, but now, it is difficult for me to go back. The monastery in Fussen reminded me of this challenge. The frescos on the walls and ceiling (the oldest in Bavaria) tell familiar biblical stories, but now, after my studies and papers, they are different stories. I think that is part of traveling. I’m still learning how these stories have changed, how these different aspects of the stories have changed me, discovering new paintings in far off churches reminds me of the revisions. Have my studies revised my beliefs so drastically that I have “lost” this identity? Or has it simply morphed into a different belief?

Finally, we made it out of the city and onto the bikes… kind of. We only made it 12 miles via bikes, but via bicycle nonetheless! It was more of a travel day though. We jumped on the train in Geneva, and arrive in Kempton, Germany around 9 tonight.

History gets me excited. The musky smell of century old mold and dirt reminds me of findings frogs in my grandparent’s basement, Neidpath Castle and exploring National Trust homes. The sort of excitement where you wonder what it was like to live there, or who was murdered where, or if that coat of armor is actually going to rattle to life.
York is the kind of place where I found myself imagining 15th century life again. From Vikings, to Romans, to 15th century Monks and 21st century tourists, York has a little bit of history for everyone. Wander through the the tiny streets of the city centre, the ruins of a medieval abby in the Museum Garden , visit the Minster , enjoy a cream tea at the famous Betty’s Tea Room , or enjoy a craft brew at a local free house; there’s plenty to find.
We got lost in the streets of old town following the towers towards the Minster. The first stone construction of the cathedral in York was in 633; however, Romans settled in York in AD 71, building their Basilica in the same place the Minster sits now. Ground level during AD 71 is now the Crypt. When walking through the Crypt, ancient Roman murals, pillars, and plumbing can be still be seen. After the first stone church was built on top of the Basilica, multiple additions and renovations have been added throughout the years. The last addition to the Cathedral (the rebuilding of the Great Tower) was completed in 1465. Can you imagine what it was like to attend mass in York Minister in the 15th century? I bet it smelt awful.

I love to travel. I love to pick up, and leave the familiar behind. But there is also a part of me that loves routine. My morning routine of eggs, tea, and reading, my (almost) daily ride down to SLC Crossfit , and the total control I have of eating whatever I have that comes out of my kitchen. It actually doesn’t take too long for me to start to miss these things when I’m on the road. For some it would be living out of suitcase, or the lack of clean socks. I miss working out, and cooking.
However, the beauty of crossfit is that I can do it anywhere. Sure, I can’t find weights and do cleans until I collapse in the middle of a farmer’s field, but I can run, jump, climb, or drop and do 10 burpees just about anywhere. The difference is finding the motivation.
Yes, I know, my friends tease me about my over enthusiastic motivation. I’m not very good at relaxing. Where some people may have a hard time getting off the couch, I struggle to stay on it. But there is something about not having a place to go to workout, that makes it trickier to feel like I’m getting a workout. However, I won’t dismay (and neither should you) if you’re on the road and need to burn some energy, here’s what I’ve been doing:
1. Running (right, I said this was interesting. Running until I get just a little bit lost, than trying to find my way back. This can definitely backfire. My proposed 5k turned into a 2 hour trek about the fields in West Berkshire trying to find my way back to my Auntie’s. However, I did feel like I’d done something!
2. Throw together a quick, body weight work out. squats, sit-ups, push-ups, lunges, and burpees. If there is a park nearby, the playground in a great place to find some benches for box jumps or monkey bars for pull-ups, knees to elbows, dangling upside down like a 5-year old….
3. Use what is available as a weights. Use a massive dictionary to weight sit ups, or grab the broom and do some overhead squats to switch things up.
3. Hire a bike and check out the local sights. Or, if you’re in a place like England, walk the footpaths in between the village pubs. Even if you get bored of walking, at least the pubs at the end will keep motivating you.
This Guy keeps me motivated.

I’ve never really seen London. Yes, I’ve gone there just about every summer of my life, but outside of shopping, the Natural History Museum (Best T-Rex EVER!), and the West End, I couldn’t tell you too much. I went to the Tower of London once with my cousin, Olly, when I was 10, but that sums up the historical aspect of my annual visits.
However, I’m happy to say that has changed (at least a little bit). My mum and I decided that Jim needed to get a glimpse of “touristy” (maybe, even, historical) London. What better way to see it than by bicycle? (You didn’t think we’d sit on a tour bus for hours did you??)
We took the tube from our hotel in South Kensington to Queensbury, where we meet our cycling tour guide under the clock, just outside Kensington Garden. We cycled through Kensington Garden , http://www.royalparks.org.uk/parks/hyde_park/ Hyde Park , Hyde Park Corner, Buckingham and Traflagar Square . If you’re ever looking for a way to see London, I highly recommend it! Much better than sitting atop a double decker and glimpsing at buildings in between traffic lights!

Life goes on from day to day; routines, schedules, monotony. But then there are those moments, the ones that take your breath away. When four glasses of wine later your feet are moving and suddenly you realize that this smile on your face is bigger than it has been in awhile.
When did life turn into this routine? I moved to Salt Lake 4 years ago, a small town girl, passionate, excited and confused by the lack of laughter and smiles in the city. I sat down to lunch one day and entered a random conversation with a fellow student. “What do you like to do?” I asked him. “Like to do? Well, I go to work, I go to class, I go to the gym.” Right, but what do you love? When I was asked this question, I bubbled over with excitement, skiing, biking, writing, photography, reading, dancing, working out, I just love. I’m a lover.
Four years later and some days I wonder where that excitement went. I feel like I’ve turned into that person. You know, I work, I workout, I play a little, I kind of have a social life. But then, I find those people that I love again and remember; coming home to a chorus of “PPIIPP” and a dog pile of bodies in seconds, high fives, laughter. Those people whom when you get together, you never stop smiling, laughing, and talking about that one time when we had that party and…..
All of a sudden I’m acting like I’m 18 again, hanging out in a hot tub in Molly’s silver hot pants and taking pulls from a wine bottle underwater. Shouting things that are ridiculous and absurd and yet, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
And then we danced. Generations of friends getting down to Journey and Jonny Cash, we all want to ride our bicycles and our hair is coming down. Literally. I think Bryan’s is way longer than mine now, and Adam, well, his mutton chops more than make up for the lack of length in his ponytail. These are the guys that I love. That make me laugh a little harder and cheer when they think Pip is starting to be fun again. We all need people like this. We all grow up, move, and meet new people. But the ones we love are irreplaceable. Sure, the people in our future may understand who we’ve turned out to be, but it’s the people from our past who understand where we came from. They celebrate it, and you should too.

The hair salon; an iconic image in girldom. You may just go to the salon to get a trim, a new style, a new color, but somewhere along the line, the relationship between client and hairdresser turned into one of gossip and therapy. Men may have stereotyped the image of pouring their heart out to a random bartender over a few too many beers, but girls, I guess they head to the salon. After all, what’s a better way to deal with a bad day than a fresh look and some fresh confidence?
I think I missed this initiation. The salon isn’t a place of sanctitude for me. Sure, I like to look good, and I love the idea of getting a new look. But two hours in a chair, and I’m wondering when on earth she’s going to start trimming my bangs, (isn’t that why I came in here?). My hair’s been moused, blow dried, straightened (seriously?) and just when I see her pulling out those scissors one more time….. “I’ll be right back with some hairspray.” Really? I don’t even own hairspray…. ugh. Maybe next time I’ll just find some scissors myself.

Let’s face it, some days I just wake up feeling like crap. I love to play hard, I have to work hard, and sometimes the combination takes its toll on body. Like yesterday, my alarm clock went off at 8, I hit sleep more times than I can count, and rolled out of bed with tongue chewing dehydration from my shift before. My exhausted mind wished for tea while my body cried for water and I stood before my fridge wondering what the hell I have to eat for breakfast. What did I say about last week about making better choices? Right, I think I have to have food in my fridge before that can be fully effective. The result? blueberries, yogurt, almonds, and an exhausted. Guess I’m not going to make it on that bike ride before the heat hits after all. It’s time for a rest day.
I’ll admit it, I’m not very good at resting, I feel so lazy when I spend an entire day running errands or just hanging out. However, it has been a pretty brutal week; seven shifts at the restaurants, climbing/hiking Mt. Superior’s South East ridge, a couple mtn. bike rides, crossfit, and bike commuting.
Instead, I took advantage of the day to write a little, research my next trip, and rest a little (weird, who rests?). Check out my guest blog post on my old trainer and friend Nate’s blog.

“One pair of jeans takes up an entire pannier, so I’m looking for something a little bit lighter weight.” Wait, hang on a second, one pair of jeans? So out of these two panniers I will be riding with for four weeks, a pair of jeans takes up an entire one?! Crap, I seriously need to start thinking about this, because, clearly, this is going to be an entirely new level of packing light. I hope I don’t need too many warm layers, I don’t think there is going to be room for them!
It’s not that packing light is that hard, it’s just that this next trip is a hodgepodge of different events and climates. First, I’m flying into Heathrow, heading to the Dingley Dell for my cousin Duncan’s wedding and some serious celebrating. Then, my mum, stepdad and I are heading up north to visit some friends, hike some monroes and drink some scotch along the way. Actually, if my stepdad has anything to do with it, we’ll be tasting more scotch than walking miles, which is ok, we’ll make up for it later. From the highlands we fly to Lillehammer, Norway, to visit my godmother Riedan. After a couple days of exploring the land of salted fish and lingonberries, we fly to Geneva, to start our epic bike tour (because the rest of the trip isn’t epic enough) Our plan, so far, is to ride from Garmisch Parten Kirchen, Germany, through Italy, into Switzerland and end in Annecy, France. However, it’s still a little up in the air. The easiest way into Annecy is over the Col de Forclaz. Please, please, please don’t make me ride over this with panniers! It’s a brutal, 8-10%, 8 km climb that even the tour respects as a challenge. Ok, I might suck it up, but only if we can stop for lunch at the top!
Back to my original question, how am I meant to pack for all of this?

I woke up this morning exhausted. I think I got most of my sleeping done between 12 and 3 last night, after that it was just game over. Usually, I would drag my butt out of bed, put on the kettle, brew a strong cup of tea, eat, and ride my bike to the gym. I would ignore my aching quads and sore feet, push aside my achenes, and press on to the next work out. But remember, I’m trying to be nice to my body right now. Instead, I drank my tea slowly, enjoyed my blueberries and set out to clean my bikes. Jesus, I’m not sure the when my commuter bike was cleaned last, but it sure as hell needed a serious scrubbing. But guess what? I do have silver components! Weird, I seriously thought they came black.
I also decided to spend my afternoon stocking up on some snacks for the rest of the week. I’m working every night, so dinner has been a bit of a challenge lately. Last Sunday, Jamon and I headed up to Park City for the Park Silly Market and I came across some delicious looking beets. Don’t like beets? Try roasting them, I bet it will totally change your mind!
Roast Beets
Rinse beets, preheat oven to 350
Wrap beets in tinfoil and roast for one hour
Voila! Yummy beets! I peeled mine post roasting as it’s easier to get the skins off, I plan on drizzling them with olive oil and making a cold salad with some chicken I also roasted and some spinach and feta! Yum!