This has been a whirlwind of a year. I had my first kid, my mom moved in to help Mark and I through the TechStars session in Boulder, I was awarded the Managing Director role there (yay! Congrats to me!), Mark and I are working on a biz plan, and we’re finishing our basement. As I look back on it, I had zero time to do anything. Showering was sometimes a chore (sorry for those sitting near me!).
I’m sitting here catching up on my reading in an extremely rare hour alone – specifically I’m catching up on Brad Feld’s and David Cohen’s blog. I work closely with David, with Brad at a distance, and they are probably the two busiest people I know. I’m thoroughly impressed with the quality and depth of the writing on their blogs given their schedules. It’s shameful to me and downright inspiring. I’m making a commitment here to work better at getting in a writing rhythm.
Although I must admit, there is a part of me that likes anonymity. A few weeks ago, a stranger wished me happy birthday on the street. We’re probably connected somehow on Plaxo or LinkedIn, or maybe he saw the tweets wishing me a happy birthday, but it still creeped me out. (Stranger – not that YOU creeped me out, just that someone I don’t recognize can find out intimate information about me). I guess birthdays aren’t intimate anymore.
Our due date was March 5th, 2010. My mom arrived 2 weeks earlier, eager and ready to help out, because both my sister and I were delivered 2 weeks early after very short labors. Well, the 2-week-early mark came and went, and March 5th was rapidly approaching. I was working like mad because I knew I had an unpredictable hard stop, and stuff at work was ramping quickly. In fact, March 5th, we had TechStars for a Day, and I (along with everyone else) was hoping I didn’t go into labor during the event. We had a little talk with the fetus and decided I would have the baby on Sunday the 7th, which would allow me to finish TS4AD on the 5th and have the 6th to recuperate.
This little kiddo inside me sure knew how to listen!
March 5th came and went without a hitch. At about 3:30 am on March 6th, a mere 10 hours after the end of TS4AD, I was rudely awoken to strange feelings. I went back to sleep a couple of times before realizing that they were labor pains. Around 4am I got up, went downstairs, and began working, trying to tie up some loose ends before going offline for a few days. I worked until about 9am, pausing during the contractions, until my husband and mom got up.
Initially the labor pains weren’t that bad. Uncomfortable, but not terrible. Mark and I walked around our neighborhood in what we affectionately dubbed the Labor Loop, trying to speed the process. Around 3:30, the contractions were about 4-6 minutes apart, and maybe lasting about 45 seconds, and were getting to the point where I couldn’t talk during one. We decided to head in to the hospital.
I was dead set on having natural childbirth – without pain killers. My mom did it, I have aunts and cousins in Greece that have done it many times over (in fact, squatted in a field to deliver their kids), and billions of women before me have done it. Plus, I’m in good shape, I can handle pain, and I trained for it.
From 3:30 until about 9:30pm was a blur. Whoever said ‘labor is the kind of pain you forget’ was absolutely correct – not because its forgettable, but because it’s so traumatizing that your mind/body blanks it out of your memory! I remember being in such pain that I couldn’t handle it anymore – the contractions were coming fast and furious and I was unbelievably fearful of the next one. I vaguely remember howling and moaning like an alien creature. I also remember demanding Mark uninvite my parents to the hospital, which I’m sure was a terrible disappointment to my mom. I didn’t want to be around anyone other than my husband. I remember having the urge to push, and demanding a nurse come in and check me. I thought I must be almost there! She comes in and says “Well, I have good news… you’re almost at 6 cm dilated…”
I said “SCREW THIS!!! GET THE DAMN ANESTHESIOLOGIST!!!” There was no way I wasn’t even to the hard part (7-9cm dilated) yet! The longest 30 minutes of my life was waiting for the anesthesiologist to come administer an epidural.
After the epidural, life was wonderful. Not because the pain killers put you in lala land (they don’t, all they do is numb feeling from about your navel down), but because suddenly I could be present for the birth of our daughter. I could still feel the contractions, I still had to breathe through them, but I could envision opening up, her being delivered into this world. I could be happy and content with the moment. And I was. And suddenly, it was time to push.
Pushing was great. I could literally feel her head moving down, and at some point I could see the top of it in the mirror. I had a nurse on one leg and Mark on another encouraging me to push, and each time I could feel progress. She was almost here! Mark held my leg and texted my parents furiously (hey, no iPhoning at the birthing table!!!) After about an hour, she arrived, a perfectly heathly baby girl. It was magical.
So I’m thrilled to present Alexandra Katina Florence, born Sunday, March 7th at 1:15am after 22 long hours of labor and 1 miracle epidural later.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. No gifts, no decorations, no consumer hype. Only friends, family, good food, great conversation, spending time together, and a real reminder about how lucky we are.
That being said, I’d like a moment to publicly share all that I’m thankful:
My husband, my soulmate.
The most amazing family a girl could ever ask for. Sister, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandma, the whole lot of ’em.
The love in my life. I’m surrounded by it from all directions.
The peace in our country. Being able to sleep at night and not fear for my life is a true blessing.
The food on my table, the roof over my head, the clothes on my back.
My education. I owe this to my parents.
My brain. It’s the most powerful tool I have.
My health. I hope I never take it for granted.
My friends – now spread all over the country. Most are like family to me.
The community in which I work and play in Boulder. I’ve been given some great opportunities and have been embraced by the entrepreneurial community – I hope I can make the most of those opportunities.
Ahh Skinner. One of the 10th Mountain Division Huts, Skinner Hut sits atop a ridge line that mocks you mercilessly. Why we chose to do this hut every year still escapes me (oh wait, it’s because we’re too unorganized to book any other hut before they sell out).
This year was no exception. I chose to telemark this trip, even though I own no tele gear and have never made a tele turn in my whole entire life. Yet a brand new pair of boots from Larry the Boot Fitter (the BEST!) and donated fatty skis/skins later – I was tele’ing my way up that tortous route.
Our crew this year involved myself, my husband Mark Florence, Shannon Helton, Todd Duncan, Max Mackey, Daryl Braga, Eddie & Katie Konold. It’s a great group – every one of us have either guided at some time in our life or are very capable in the backcountry. And thanks to Daryl’s 200lb first aid kit (he’s a newly minted nurse, or shall I say murse), we knew we were in safe hands should something go awry.
Our trek in was spectacular, if not hot. We got up on time, ate on time, left on time. It was 50 degrees on our trek in, we were wearing nothing but long sleeve shirts and ski pants, and I honestly wish I had on shorts. It hadn’t snowed in what felt like a season, so the ground was packed ice. I’m always amazed at how well skins stick! We skied the next day briefly, but the snow sucked so we cut it short. However, never tempt grandpa winter – because it proceeded to start snowing that night and didn’t stop until we left almost 3 days later. Our 3rd day there, everyone began to go a bit stir crazy and decided to tempt fate and check out the skiing. Even though it was text book avalanche conditions, it was worth investigating. And investigate we did, over and over and over again (well, they did. I didn’t. I chickened out because was on tele skis for the first time ever and hate tree skiing). The snow was creamy and dreamy without a hint of avalanche danger. That night I rewarded everyone with freshly sauted fajitas and we spent the night laughing and drinkin and talking. We skied out on the 4th day, after having 2 nights of the hut to ourselves. The storm was fizzling but was trapped in the mountains there, so the weather would turn from sunny, to windy, to snowing, back to sunny again. We took a few more runs on our favorite spot, which was some of the most fun skiing I’ve EVER done. 3 days of snow without another soul up there made for fantastic turns! And the ski out was glorious, I might even go so far as to say relaxing.
The FSS Crew
Anyway, I write this post less because I want to share my experiences with you (no cell phones, no TV, no showers, no flush toilets) and more because I want to make sure that those who follow us know how to tackle the mount with prepared, full force.
Route
Definitely park near the damn at Turquoise Lake, and take the road that travels on the south side of the lake. Do not take the northern route around the lake. It’s farther, hillier, and less scenic. You’ll skin up right from your car about 5 miles of mild incline to the high point in the road. You’ll know it’s the high point because the road will fork – one way (not recommended unless you stupidly plan on dragging a sled) is up and to the left, and the other way is down and in front of you. In my opinion, head down and straight. Take your skins off, and ski the 2 miles down from the fork all the way to the Timberline trailhead. When you reach the trailhead, sit down, take a load off for about 15 minutes and refuel. You’re over half way, but the rest of the time is pretty grueling. When you feel sufficiently rejuvenated, put your skins on and begin the seige. The first part of the trail will switchback across the mountain through a fairly dense forest. Its the longest hill, but not the steepest. When the trail starts to mellow out, you’ll find yourself in a lovely pine glades . The terrain will slowly transform from glades to a pretty flat meadow, and eventually it will be so flat you’ll feel like you’re crossing a lake. Take in the scenery, you’re surrounded by the continental divide. At the other side of the flat meadow, you’ll start gently ascending again. You’ll climb through the trees and encounter a couple of ultra-steep sections where my skins didn’t stick. You’ll end up traversing underneath a cliff band, and here the trail will mellow out for a short period of time again. This is one of my favorite parts of the trail. You’ll cross one last meadow before heading straight up again. You know you’re getting close to the end when you see the big avalanche shoot (and ski dreaminess) off to your right. You’re protected in the trees, but still take caution as you cross. When you reach the top of this last hill (my least favorite section because it’s straight up with very tight switchbacks – you’ll get practice making kick turns here), you have about 1/4 – 1/2 mile left to the hut. Happily, its pretty much flat from here!
Checking out the cornices
The trail is perfectly marked, so follow the yellow diamonds and you’re all set. And if you find you need to bivouac, there are plenty of places to do so.
In my opinion, here are the necessities of what to bring:
fatty skis (snow shoes are not acceptable unless you want to trek for 12+ hours)
skins
poles
avalanche beacon, snow shovel, snow probe (and extra set of batteries for the avi beacon)
kick wax, the right temp for the snow of that weekend (you’ll want this for your trek out. you’ll ski down to the road, skin up to the top of the road, then kick wax out. Optimal amount of sking, skinning, and gliding!)
pillow case (unless you want lice or will be bringing your own pillow)
sleeping bag
If you have to bivouac overnight on the side of the mountain (many, MANY people have), these items will be your best friend and could ensure your survival: stove, pot, lighter (for melting water), sleeping mat, extra set of batteries, and extra food
Map, compass (duh)
Headlamp with fresh batteries
Camera! It’s georgous!
duct tape, and tons of it.
All your meals. BOOZE! Don’t skimp on this one! It’s heavy but oh so worth it. I recommend liquor with some kick that you can drink straight (tequila, burbon, etc)
water bottles or bladder
slippers with rubber sole to wear to the outhouse and walk around the cabin. This is a must.
Also, you’ll be a hero if you bring desert. Cookies, cinnamon roles, etc, anything sweet and hot after a day of skiing kicks ass!
ear plugs to block out the incessant snoring of the guy sleeping next to you
fresh tracks
I’m sure I’m forgetting something but I can’t remember. The hut is well stocked with cooking and eating utensils. It has 2 wood burning stoves (one for heat, one for cooking). You can melt snow for water. As an aside, don’t turn the hut into a sauna! Every time we’re there, some yayhoo has the wood burning stove blasting heat. The wood is expensive to harvest, carry, and stock. It’s unecessary to burn it that hot! Put a sweater on for hell’s sake.
If you go, let me know how it turns out! It’s a great trip. You’ll push your limits while experiencing some of the greatest terrain that few will ever see in their lives.
I’m in a fun & scary place. The last project I was working on was a victim of the October markets, and in an effort to cut costs, my position was eliminated. This was actually a great thing, because I truly wasn’t happy there, but the timing SUCKED. To add to our stress load – my husband is in the building trades, and unless your head has been in the sand, you know what’s going on there. Most of the work he had coming up has evaporated. So in our 2-necessary-income household, we’ve gone down to none. Thankfully we have some savings, but not enough to last any respectable timeframe.
So we’re scrambling! But as scary as this is, it’s a great opportunity to reinvent and redefine. To really ask ourselves “What do we WANT to do? What can bring us both emotional satisfaction and financial independence?” They say fear is the greatest handicap, and I can’t imagine a better time to try to do all the things we’ve talked about doing for so long. Thus into the abyss we leap – and I’ll take you on the journey with us.
The first thing I’m doing is putting together a list of both long term and short term goals. The direction we (I) take will be based on the summary of those goals. I’ll publish the goals as soon as I’m done!
I was sitting at the table with investors interested in putting some capital into one of the companies with which I’m working. The questions were around assumptions – are the assumptions you’re making in the business sound? What happens if they’re wrong?
And the answer by the entrepreneur (okay, Lu Cordova), was fabulous. “Never cross a stream with an average depth of 4 ft, it’s the variance that will kill you.”
What she meant by this is understand your variances, understand the best and worse case scenarios of all critical factors to your company. I know you believe you’ll do $75 M in revenue in year 2, but what happens if you don’t? What happens if you don’t close this round of funding? What happens if the CEO you hired turns out to be a schmuck? Run your model with the most plausible scenario, then the best case, then the worst case – and see what happens. If you can stay afloat in a worse case scenario, you do well both in business and with fundraising.
Know your variances – it will keep you from drowning. Great lesson by Lu.
Last night I had the undeniable pleasure of seeing Carolyn Porco speak at CU. Carolyn heads up the Cassini project in conjunction with NASA to take photos of Saturn. She’s a vibrant and emotional speaker, infecting her audience with her enthusiasm for space studies. I’ve met her on several occasions at Lu Cordova’s house and had no idea she was literally a rocket scientist.
I have been moved by the images the project has captured, which you can browse here… the most moving image she displayed for us is the one below. What you can’t see in this little thumbnail is a little tiny speck. The speck is on the left side of the screen, just barely above the half way point of Saturn, just inside the second (from the outside) faint outermost ring. Can you see it? That’s earth.
This photo is of Saturn in a full eclipse of the sun, with the light reflecting off Earth and Saturn’s rings. When I see this photo, I am literally moved. It’s not that I feel insignificant. It’s that I feel the significance of the galaxy. How can we be so egocentric to imagine there isn’t life elsewhere when you see this photo?
So thank you to Carolyn Porco and the whole Cassini team for making these images available to us.
Today, I heard twice from 2 different sources that people are spending 2 hours a day on Facebook.
I’ve been pretty busy the last 2.5 weeks. In-laws in town, sister in town, skiing, two old friends in town, wearing my 3 work hats. And dammit none of it is making me enough money… ESPECIALLY trying to figure out Facebook.
So I get the social networking thing of facebook. Fabulous, really. I’ve had TWO old friends from high school that I haven’t seen since graduation find me on Facebook. But someone keeps posting on my funwall. I don’t even know what a funwall is! And I keep getting these damn gifts from people, the most recent was a martini. So what am I supposed to do with that? I can’t drink it. Do I post on their funwall? Do I send them a wall-to-wall? Do I send them an email? Do I send them a gift?
I’ve spent hours on Facebook, and while I get what they are trying to do, I’m still trying to figure out HOW they are doing it. So my theory is that people are spending 2 hours on Facebook trying to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing on Facebook! Someone give me a demo please, I really don’t have time for the discovery.
Swim:
3 x 10 minutes constant, even swimming freestyle the whole way, 1 min rest between sets
Run:
Immediately out of the pool, run 30 minutes even, steady run.
Given the weather outside today, I ran on the inside track (fun! springy!), but the damn track is small so of course my one leg hurts from running tight little circles.
Surprisingly, I was more tired than I expected. I regularly exercise for 1 hour.
I’m 33. I always wanted kids. I’ve worked with kids of all ages, and have always believed I’d have a family. My husband is R-E-A-D-Y to have a family, like 3 years ago. But for some stupid reason, I’m not.
I always thought the ‘biological clock’ was this feeling you’d get when you look at kids, a nurturing, wanting, sweet feeling. Like – awwww, so cute! I want one of those!!!
Not for me. The biological clock is more like a time bomb that has backed me into a $%#!! corner and is screaming in my face – if you EVER want to do this, you better do it NOW or you’ll never do it!
Who knew?
I would give a lot for an extra 10 years here. I’m not done growing up. I want to play, I like having money to travel and go out and have freedom and live my life and exercise and do whatever-the-hell-i-want-whenever-i-want. I’m NOT READY. But like it or not, my husband and I made an agreement that by June, we’d ‘pull the goalie’. June is in 2 months. Wonder if it’s a coincidence that I’ve planned my triathlon for the end of June?
So, I’m looking forward to having kids. Just not looking forward to losing a part of my life that I really enjoy.
Nearly Nicole 