Martha Stewart Eat Your Heart Out

It is said that your home should display your own sense of style. Mine is one part Pottery Barn, one part Grandpa’s attic, and one part Tri-Zone.

Everywhere I look in my cozy place, there are reminders of play:

• Stacks of towels and bathing caps on the antique chest

• Bike trainer in the corner

• Mountain bike hanging from the ceiling (those tread marks on the wall must qualify as modern art)

• Core equipment that I don’t touch nearly enough

• Ditto with the yoga mat and paraphernalia

• Water bottles lined up by the sink like little soldiers

• Road bike behind my desk

• Spinervals DVDs piled up by the TV

• Tubes and tires in the other corner

• Shelves packed with books on biking, swimming, and running

• A library of tri podcasts on my laptop

• And stacks of magazines I’ve yet to read (yes, I still have issues)

It’s been a while since I confessed the tally on those:

New Magazines: 6

Old Magazines: 12


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