frequent flyer february

I am traveling every single week this month.

First there was the Washington Association of Wine Grape Growers conference in Kennewick, where I completely forgot I had to go to an auction and banquet, so emergency shopping at Target happened and I ended up in pretty much the Exact Same Outfit as my coworker Stephanie.

She is also a cat lady, so matchiness is OK.

Then last week I was in Aspen scouting venues for the Washington-themed party we're planning to host during the Food & Wine Classic in June.

This also meant walking through a bunch of snow and ice while trying not to fall on my ass and injure myself as I made my way to the rec center so I could torture myself train at altitude. Swimming 2,900 yards -- the farthest I've ever swam before -- at 8,000 feet sucked was extremely challenging and therefore healthy and good for me.

And this was a truly epic moment for me, not just because it marked the longest distance I've ever swam, but because -- wait for it -- I also peed in the pool for the first time ever. Seriously. Ever. (And before you judge, I'll emphasize that this is totally normal, although maybe not exactly the best choice for your fellow human beings. When I told Salad Bar about all of the peeing on yourself that happens in triathlon, he said he'll be waiting at the IMAZ finish line with a fire hose. Unfortunately, this is not a euphemism.)

And since we're all about firsts, I also went skiing for the first time ever in my entire life.

I'm peeing in my ski pants! Just kidding.

And I was sore for three days afterward and could barely walk down stairs. (This pain was worse than any marathon or triathlon I've experienced.) But strangely, I want to go skiing again soon. (Because, you know, triathlon and scuba aren't expensive and complicated enough, and I need more money-sucking sports at which I can be completely and totally mediocre.)

Anyway, I am off to the airport again tomorrow. Dear mad scientist people: Weren't we supposed to have teleporting machines by now?