making space from this place

Sad to say,but it was my idea that it would be great fun to drive across country and participate in a triathlon. Needless to say I soon figured out what it meant to drive from San Francisco, CA to Miami, FL. I realized that even though google maps says it only takes 50 hours to get there, that 50 hours means driving non-stop in the same vehicle with no pilot doing all the navigating and steering. I soon realized that while driving even thought you may not be doing anything strenuous that it still exhausts your body. Meanwhile my boyfriend quietly chuckles at my scuffles about the long drive, and with a smile says, “I told you so.”

It took Robert and I three and half days and 3,133 miles to finally arrive in downtown Miami, Florida. The first thousand miles flew by. First we had to exchanging our jeep for a family members truck. Then the next morning being rushed away by falling snow. Afterwards we rushed to pick up the rental trailer and gave it a quick “stress test” before leaving the state of California. For the next two thousand miles it felt more like the road passed us. As Arizona flashed by, I begin to realize that there is positively nothing to do there. Maybe thats a bit bias, but really what are you supposed to do in a land locked dessert?

By day two we hit New Mexico, and could not tell the difference between it and Arizona. By this point in the drive the one scenic view that NM had to offer was of Mexico. It was a majestic view of the dirty river that separates Mexico's multi-colored, run-down hunts from the good old US of A. Where we saw more boarder patrol than highway patrol vehicles on the road.

Day three was the hardest for me, because this is when Chelsea met the gigantic state of Texas. As happy as I was to leave New Mexico’s scenic views behind us, Texas was no break from the nothingness. Where we drove hundreds of miles and fully explored the beautiful shrubbery that TX has to offer. By this point of what seemed to be the never ending road we started to get a little delirious. This is when I started to fantasize about how great it the word Orange is, and how not only is it a color, but technically you can also taste this wonderful and delicious color. “Eat your heart out red,” the boisterous orange would say, mocking the other colors.

Then finally we hit the Florida State line. After already driving from NM to FL that day we decided to stop at my mother’s house for the night. Since my mother lives only three hours away from Miami, it made to next day’s drive a breeze. Believe me nobody was happier to see Miami that day then Robert and I. Part of me feels like finishing that drive in that little amount of time is an endurance event in-of-it-self.

Boo to Hemingway

Much like Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable feast. My blog starts off with me, Chelsea Sullivan. On one of the East bay’s, finer days. Some might even call it a “false spring,” knowing full well that the in the following days, the sun will be clouded over with undesirable weather. And just as soon as, the sun draws the patrons to the outdoor cafes, the rain will soon drive them away again. While sitting outside of Peet’s Coffee & Tea with my bulldog by my side and I began to write. Or maybe rant is a better word. Besides ranting is more my style.

I ranted about how IKEA sells these “do-it-yourself” structures. How in their instruction manual, it shows and recommends two "people," working on the same object. Yet IKEA only supplies one tool per structure. Where and How does this make sense?

I then ranted, about how this one day reminds me of my home on they other side of the country.

Florida, my birth place.

Then I reminisced about the beaches and how I longed for their soft sand between my toes. Also, the celebration each night that accompanied the ever changing sunset.

I then focused my attention on how soon I would return to Florida. I then fantasied about the open arms and cheesy smiles I would be greeted with on my return trip home. Just as vividly as remember the smiles, I also remembered the whole reason of my returning visit, the Miami International Triathlon. This triathlon is bitter sweet, because this is my second race I have trained for and yet the first race I will compete in. And the cross country drive ahead of me and my lover, and it is at this point where I start to realize the endless possibilities and begin to actually write instead of ranting.