One icy night last November, I sat awkwardly propped against my headboard, laptop teetering atop my stomach, as I surfed the Internet for the article on organic toothpaste I'd contributed to a health magazine some months back. Or was I combing the InsideTri.com archives for some stats on a pro triathlete I'd profiled a few weeks prior? All right, all right. I'll just cut the malarkey and admit it: I was Googling myself.

A seemingly shameful, pompous activity, Googling oneself (Did I just coin this term? My spellcheck sure thinks so) can be a surprisingly enjoyable, albeit interesting, way to pass those hours between work-gym-supper and bedding down for the night. Especially for someone who has finally busted into the tough-to-penetrate world of magazine writing enough to get a piece or two published after years of serving T-bones, beer and buffalo wings to rowdy pub patrons.

Certainly, Googling myself a few years back would've yielded nothing more than a few piddly hits as exciting as my name listed in some newsletter for a college scholarship I'd won back in the ‘90s or, egad, a photo of a bikini-clad me swilling cocktails on the beach that a friend snarkily posted online for the world to see. But now that my writing is out there, and (lucky you) splattered across Inside Triathlon's Web site, I'll attest: It's interesting to see how my articles get repurposed, product reviews get snagged for promotional purposes and commentary on a sleek new aero helmet gets picked apart by tri-loving bloggers.

Now that I've made enough excuses for myself, I'll get back to that November night.

So, after finding the usual regurgitated race reports and an online article I'd crafted on the importance of Earth Day, I stumbled across a blurb written in Spanish that I could tell was about me rather than by me. It looked like a press release or news story of some kind, but knowing full well I'm NOT cool enough for any Spanish-speaking media outlet to care what the hell I do, I was instantly baffled. Unable to decipher the content of the article, I Googled on, until I found an English translation of the site.

Here's what I found. From Union de Triatlon de Panama came an announcement somewhere along the lines of "Melaina Juntti, editor of Inside Triathlon (Move over, bosslady!) and an expert in the sport (Nice compliment, but I still have lots to learn!) will arrive in Panama on March 8, 2008 to cover the Portobelo International Off-Road Triathlon."

Really? I will? March 8 was a long way off from then, but I imagined I'd spend that early-spring day slipping and sliding while stupidly attempting to tackle a local eight-mile trail way too early in the hiking season or perhaps pumping my fist at a small-venue Southern rock show in Denver. Gosh, maybe I'd even clean my bedroom that day. But a sweet trip to Panama? Although that sounded heavenly, it wasn't exactly on the docket, oh misinformed media. But heck, it felt kind of cool to be a victim of tabloid falsities.

I immediately shared this hilarious tidbit with friends, family and coworkers, forwarding the link to this unfounded piece of Web news. Everyone enjoyed a good chuckle-except my editor (the real one, not me), Sarah, who simply asked, "So why don't you e-mail the federation, ask where they got this info and see if you can actually go?" Dang, she's a smart one.

The next day, I did just that, and to make a long story short, Allan Baitel, the president of the Panamanian tri federation told me he had no idea where the misinformation had come from but invited me to party on down to Central America to cover this kickass competition anyway. Sweet Jesus, I'm going to Panama. Wow.

Now you may think that all of us here at Inside Tri have the luxury of flying around the globe, hopping from race to race, hobnobbing with Macca and Team Bennett at post-event parties in exotic locales whenever we so please. Well, although that'd be gnarly, it's not so much the case. Although we make occasional cross-country forays to bring you the hottest haps from the hottest finish lines, we have a limited travel budget, my friends, not to mention a magazine to put out back at the Mothership, leaving us in the office more than we'd like.

But I won't blame you for thinking so-heck, if you do think of us as perpetual jetsetters, it's a compliment. It means we do our job scouring city visitors bureau websites, calling up race directors, interviewing athletes and checking local sporting schedules to bring you the most factual, as-close-to-we've-been-there race descriptors we can. I mean, I couldn't recommend you hit up an Aussie football match after a Down Under race if the local squad isn't even in town that weekend, now could I?

So, yes, the kid was immediately stoked to go to Panama. And now, with the journey less than 24 hours away, I'm getting more and more psyched by the minute.

Somewhere between 3 and 3:30 a.m. Thursday morning, I'm going to load up my beloved '98 Ford Escort and roll down to Colorado Springs to catch a flight to Houston. After a short layover (and hopefully a nap), I'll board a second plane that'll rocket me to Panana City.

For those of you geographically rusty ones out there (It's okay! I suck at pool, bowling and anything computer related), the skinny-mini country of Panama sits on the southernmost tip of Central America, severed by the infamous Panama Canal. Panama City is obviously the nations big urban center, the Portobelo region its beautiful Caribbean coastal escape. Portobelo-that's where I'm headed.

The race shakes down off La Guayra Saturday, March 9 (the day after the faux Web story said I'd arrive)-and what a race it should be. The brainchild of Ironman Hawaii founder John Collins and his wife, Judy, the event tours rainforests, mountain and beaches, not to mention 500-year-old Spanish forts and churches. With rugged terrain, twisty-turny routes and a monster climb on the run, this event makes even the most seasoned XTERRA racers squirm.

Though I've haven't personally previewed the Ironman China bike course or noshed on noodles with the Thai after Laguna Phuket, I will, once I board the plane back to the States next Monday, have carbo-loaded with Panamanian athletes, looked out over one of the world's most famous manmade waterways and seen firsthand the sweat dripping down the ecstatic faces of those crossing the finishline after a burly, multi-hour contest.

Please check back to Inside Tri.com early next week so I can tell you all about it.