Leavin' on a jet plane...

I will be leaving the desert in a few hours. In the year and a half that I have been out here, I have grown to love this hot, dry, sandy playground, and I know I will miss it while I am gone. Although I'll really only be gone for about two months (less, really, depending on how long I recover on the Antiguan beaches), it is going to be a pretty intense two months. It is the trip of a lifetime, and there are a lot of things to think about as I am packing up and leaving the life that I have come to know. Here are a few things that I am thinking about as I leave Phoenix, go home to spend some much deserved time with my family, and then set off again to row the Atlantic Ocean...

Things that I will miss while out on the ocean:

The Edge 103.9 - I'll miss rocking out with them in the Jeep, windows down and singing at the top of my lungs as I cruise through the desert, laughing at the hilarious antics of Chuck Powell and Corey James during The Morning Ritual, and sitting back and enjoying the acoustic chill of a Sunday Morning Service. The only consolation is that I have my iPod packed with thousands of songs and audiobooks - that small device will be my most prized possession onboard.

(Good) Green things - Things like trees, fresh vegetables, grass, and even cactus. Life on the ocean is mostly blue, white, and gray with reds and purples thrown in during sunsets. When there is green out there, it is usually something awful coming up after a meal, something equally smelly growing in the footwell, or a weird colored cloud signaling a bit of a scary low pressure system. The only good green things we will have onboard will be the occasional treat of freeze-dried green beans, and maybe a Christmas tree if we don't screw it up this year. I know that Antigua has a lot of green on it, and each day I'll be pulling to reach the oasis of color.

Mountains - Again, good mountains - not ones that move or come crashing over the gunwales, we don't need any of those this time. One of my favorite things about living in Phoenix is that I am surrounded by mountains in every direction. They stand there in their majestic beauty, bathed in the glow the Arizona sun, just beckoning to be climbed. There won't be any climbing out on the ocean, which brings me to the next thing I will miss.

Using my calve muscles - walking, running, climbing. I've just gotten back into sprinting/cutting shape from ultimate frisbee, and in two months, all that work will be gone. My body will search for protein from any available source, and my selfish quads and back muscles will eat my helpless calves who can't even defend themselves as I crawl like a monkey around the deck.

Life Science Tower #348 - I know I'm a super lucky kid because I really love my job. I love the research that I am doing, both for the basic science knowledge that I am helping to discover and for the prospects of someday helping those countries that are currently ravished by HIV. I also work with some amazing people. From my PI, who understands my dreams and has been supportive of them since the first day I stepped into the lab, to my labmates who share my love of dancing after positive Western blot results, dry ice fights, and having Sacks for lunch. LSE348 is a crazy lab, but we have a blast while doing some incredible work.

A big fat juicy burger and a cold drink - I almost feel blasphemous writing about this, because I know that as I write about it, it will stick with me in my head as I am chowing down on my 12th meal of macaroni and cheese, and I will want nothing more at that moment than a huge hunk of meat. Fantasies on the ocean have very little to do with anything sexual... most revolve around some form of food or drink, be it fresh bread, a crisp salad, or french fries and a chocolate shake. Ok, I've gotta stop writing about this one, cause I know it's gonna come back and haunt me.

My bed - There is nothing better than a long day of hard work and play, and then being able to curl up on my comfy bed with its egg crate padding, soft sheets, and my Purdue football fleece blanket that my gran made me. It's warm, safe, dry, it doesn't move, and I don't have to leave it every two hours.

Friends - A lot of people, when going off on a big adventure, say that they'll miss their friends and family as a sort of cliche, expected response, but for me, deep down, my friends and family are really the things that keep me going. I cannot do this alone. Without friends around me to support me, picking me up when I've had a stressful day and being there to celebrate a good day, then all of the ups and downs in life don't mean much. A month and a half flies by here on land and life for my friends will go on as normal with the exception of sending a text or checking our progress. But, on the ocean - devoid of all normal things - you really get a chance to think about what is important in life, and I know that without my friends, I would be nothing. I'll miss the random phone calls in the middle of the night from New Jersey (you can still text me!), I'll miss racing Ryan home from the lab (I told you biking was faster) to make some mouthwatering dinners, I'll miss all of the hikes and bikes with ODP (you guys are just OD, but try not to have too much fun without me), I'll miss my ultimate buddies and all of the crazy arse things that we manage to get ourselves into (who else would make up our own bike parade or run around with pumpkins on our heads?), I'll miss watching college sports (and now the Suns :)), nights at the bars, or simply just sitting around a campfire staring into the flames. But, I've got plenty of fun memories to keep me going through the rough patches, and the fact that I will be coming back all of you crazy kids when I return will fuel my desire to go that much faster.

Family - When I got the call from Simon Chalk on September 18th, the first thing that went through my head was my concern for my family. What they would think, and how they would react to the challenge a second time, knowing the risks that I was taking. I've put my family through a lot in my short 24 years... and I can't even fathom how they felt during those 16 hours. The fact that they still support me wholeheartedly is a testament to their love, devotion, trust, and belief in me and what I am doing. I cannot thank them enough for the support they have given me, and when tears are streaming down my face as we step ashore in Nelson's Dockyard, those tears are all for my family and how they have shaped me into the person I am today. Words cannot express how much my parents, sister, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and everyone down the line mean to me. That said, I will be thinking of all of you every day out there. I'll be missing broomball on the frozen pond (at least I won't knock Dad over going for the score), I'll miss being the trash monster on Christmas (Em, you'll have to take over that again for me, kiddo), I'll miss making the most kickass fireworks show north of the Ohio River on New Year's (hopefully Grandpa won't burn down the house :)), I'll miss traipsing through the snow on the farm and coming in to a cosy fire afterwards, I'll miss all the good food that everyone in my family makes (jeez, can't get off this food thing), and I'll miss all the smiles and hugs and the warmth that the holidays offer. But, know that every stroke I take brings me closer to you, and that one of the biggest motivations for me out there is all of you guys. I pull that much harder knowing that you are all behind me, and I cannot thank you enough for that.

So, why, if I will miss all of these things, am I doing this? Wally Herbert (a polar explorer) said it best, "And what value was this journey? It is as well for those that ask such a question that there are others who feel the answer and never need to ask."

But that doesn't answer your question, does it? Why? Because I simply love it. Life is an adventure, and we can only grow by stepping outside of our comfort zones. You learn so much about yourself, your character, your values, and the world around you when you are continually out of that comfort zone for weeks at a time. It makes me appreciate all the things on that list 100x more, and I become more humble, more thankful, and more thoughtful as a result. It makes you realize that life is simple and inherently good, despite the storms and setbacks. There is sunshine after every storm, and there is no better way to learn that than by actually going through those storms. It is my dream, and has been for years, and the fulfillment of this dream will fill a hole in my life, and in the lives of my teammates, and will free me to pursue other dreams, like my PhD, and eventually a family and kids.

But, if you're still not convinced, here are a few REALLY good reasons for rowing across the Atlantic. The things that I will not miss:

Driving out to the East Greenhouse on Monday mornings - New speed cameras popping up everywhere, traffic abounding, and the unexpected, though ever present, drama that goes on between Biodesign labs and the greenhouse manager will not be missed. I am taking back those three hours a week and doing something productive with them... like sleeping.

Polluted air - Although the Valley is nice in the fact that I can see mountains all around, those same mountains prevent the smog from escaping. After awhile you just become numb to the dust and exhaust fumes and waste from factories, but once you hit that ocean air, you know that that is the way air is supposed to taste and smell and feel. Clean, fresh, and just a hint of salt, like a good margarita.

Politics - I'm generally fairly informed when it comes to the world around me and I even enjoy discussions on politics, but not for politics sake. When real issues, integrity, and leadership take a back seat to interest groups, backstabbing, and corruption, then it's not worth it to me. Again, the whole "keeping life simple" thing. I won't miss all of the attention that the media gives to the political garbage.

Flat tires - I seem to be a magnet for flat tires whether it's my bike or other people's cars. No flat tires on the ocean.

Boring lectures - yeah, that one speaks for itself as well. I get to miss two entire colloquiums and three whole lectures while I'm gone, woohoo!

Lab inspections - Wearing a lab coat and SHOES are not my idea of a good day, plus, the Health and Safety Officers don't appreciate my LB broth creatures or pipette tip sculptures quite as much as everyone else in the lab. I'll have at least 35 days of no shoes and no lab coat... and hardly any clothes at all for that matter.

All extraneous activities that don't pertain to simply living - life on the ocean is pretty basic, row, eat, sleep, and try not to dump the contents of the bucket on your teammates head (you'd think that last one would pretty easy, don't ya?). You realize how simple life can be, and how beautiful that simple life is.

To me, the ocean is a place of extremes... beauty, power, and freedom. Out there, with only your teammates, your boat, and your faith and determination to succeed, it can be overwhelming, but always awe inspiring. As I finish up packing to head home, I am nervous, excited, and confident of myself, my team, and my boat.

I'll probably post once more before I leave for the Canaries, but until then, I'll be with my family, enjoying some of the wonderful things that I will miss on the ocean.