Archive for the ‘Bio’ Category

All in a name…

There seems to be some confusion as to what my name is, so I’ve decided to set the record straight.

My first name is Liz. My last name is Carlson. My former last name is now my middle name, which makes me Liz Reap Carlson. It’s officially Elizabeth Reap Carlson, but nobody calls me Elizabeth.

Me & my girl, Rube at her modeling debut in Runner's World magazine

I’ve been keeping Reap around as a bit of a transitional thing…something to help folks who knew me before I got married find me. I also want them to know that I did, in fact, get married. I found a man who’s as good, if not better company than my dog, and snatched him up faster than you can say, ‘yes!’

Even my Grandma, who’s now seated at the right hand of the Father, called me Lizzy. Or Lilly . . . or Lilly Bell when she felt spry. I can’t remember if she was the one who called me Petunia Pig, or if that was my uncle or one of my parents’ weird friends.

Either way, Gram only called me Elizabeth when I was being scolded or at church. Or scolded at church.

I never hyphenated, only married late . . . well after establishing a career as a writer / editor / photographer. Then I became a cyclist, and kept Reap around as a safety net, in case I needed to make desperate phone calls to former colleagues looking for a job.

The last thing I wanted them to say was, “Liz Who?”

But I think we’re past that. Anyone who knows me by now has figured out I married a guy who comes from a long line of ship builders. And anyone who doesn’t know me will hopefully figure that out.

So I hereby proclaim, the woman (myself) heretofore known as Liz Reap Carlson is now Liz Carlson, both personally and professionally.

But I’m not militant. I’ll answer to both. Some people call me LizReap as if it’s one word anyways.

And when the realtor who owns LizCarlson.com closes shop, I hope she’ll sell that prime web estate at a good price—or just pass the url on to me—seeing as how we’re practically related.


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the good life

This always seems like a good time to step back and assess; where you’re at, where you’ve been, where you’re going. Better than, say, St. Patrick’s Day or your aunt’s birthday.

I’ve been spending the past week clearing out crap to make our loft worthy of a Dwell spread. I’ve got a few weeks of nothing before moving onto some light cross training before going at it again in the gym.

Our place used to be a garment factory. We’re doing all the work ourselves. Well, Lath is. Here’s a couple pics before Lath worked his magic.


Thank you Baby Jesus for the coal that heats our loft and allow us to put food on the table.


The second shot (our kitchen) now looks like this:


Shuffling through piles of stuff seems to be a good use of down time—I’ve yet to unpack, ohhh, maybe 60% of the boxes I brought when I moved to Jim Thorpe in 2005. (side note: That’s what happens when you move into an unfinished warehouse, give up your disposable income and start bike racing). Someday, we’ll buy furniture!

Since I’m looking at a year that will make me obsessed with watts and 1 rep maxes and rpms and bike position and equipment, I got a kick out of my little stroll down memory lane even if it did get me thinking how the hell did I get here?

All but sums up my evolution as a cyclist:

Bike Aid 1991

Bike-Aid 1991. Me (right) and my friend Vanessa, Ohio welcoming us.

Seven Mile Bridge, 1994-ish

My first solo tour. Florida Keys, 1995. The day that will live in infamy. 7 miles, 7 flats, one DUI cyclist to the rescue!

napa valley 1999

1999 Napa Valley, back when I thought I could climb.

Elite Nats-2007

2007 elite nats. Same thighs, different purpose: 2 laps, full throttle.

Thanks Tom Moran and Mitch Clinton for the pics!

Here’s to more smiling in 2008!

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