Can't sleep tonight. Or is it this morning?

Yesterday's residual emotions still weigh heavy on my mind - waking me up and keeping my brain spinning with thoughts of Ryan. I suppose it didn't help that yesterday I contacted the sheriff's office to see if they could tell me the exact location of where they found him. For some reason that made sense to me before - but after finding out, it stirred up so many emotions that here I am, up at 4am after going to bed at midnight.

It penetrated everything last night. Even my track sanctuary was disrupted. I could feel it during the warm up, bubbling up like an unwanted guest. But this time it wouldn't be ignored. This time after my first race and attempt to shut it out, it came crashing in sending me to the infield in a puddle of tears and despair. Christine came up and sat next to me, putting her arm around me and just let me cry. I started to feel a little better. And then I went to the stands where Trish (Ry's mom) and Molly (his sister) were watching and just started baling. They thought it was because they were there - but no, I told them about speaking with the deputy and how I couldn't shut it out anymore. I was so thankful to have them there - putting their arms around me, missing Bubba so much.

A lump is forming in my throat already.

Some how I was able to pull it together and get back to the racing. But afterward, I still lay awake in the wee hours only to feel the hole in my heart is still raw and needs a lot more healing.

I want to do some sort of memorial in Mazama on September 7. If you are interested and would like to go, please contact me.

Dirty Old Men, Estrogen and Good Samaritans

Yesterday was a good day and carried into today.

I went for a recovery ride with Tela and Kendi through Magnolia and then downtown. The sun was shining and there was minimal traffic to contend with. While riding the scenic route around Magnolia we were chatting, having a good time, enjoying the scenery and then accosted by a dirty old man. He was walking on the side walk, lifting up his shorts to display the upper portion of this thigh, whistling at us and holding a teddy bear. The response he got was three girls cracking up and cackling down the hill - and an image burned into my head that I'll never forget.

Then later that afternoon, I had a Tour date with Jennifer, Mary, Kendi, Julie and two other ladies at the Reading Gaol in Ballard. As we watched, more like glanced, at the TV as the riders strut their stuff on Versus, we also determined which Tour riders could be "my babies daddy." Cancellera was definitely in the running for the lion king. Just goes to show evolution still weaves its way into ordinary life and women pick the male who struts his bizness the most. Ha!

Quote of the night... as the one lone male dared to enter the room full of estrogen cackling ladies, Kendi said to me, "whoa. I haven't seen hairy legs in a while."

This morning I woke up a little later than anticipated but still made it into the gym. I skipped my morning coffee but planned on stopping at Pete's for some java and ended up buying a pound of coffee. As I walked with my steaming cup of joe in my hand across Fremont bridge, a passing cyclist asked, "is the bike okay?" To which I smiled, yes. Thanks for asking! Then I wondered why people don't ask, "is the human okay?" I suppose bike mechanics are easier to fix then people problems.

I watched the saddest movie I've seen in a long time. Revolutionary Road. It made me miss Ryan with a big lump in my throat, accompanied by deep, snotty sobs. The promise of going through life with my soul mate, a person who would always adventure with me, bring out the best in one another, to laugh with, cry with, have children with - gone.

Funny, I had just gotten into a sort of routine and started adapting to working really hard on the track bike. A diversion from grief. And then I watched that movie and it came crashing back in. I sat awake in bed last night, transported to 10 months ago. And then the news of John Bachar? I suppose the crying today was inevitable.

Ooff. Both blows below the belt.

Just goes to show - life has so many ups and downs, often back to back. I suppose you just get used to the roller coaster life.... and never take anything for granted.

Bummer.

Giving in

Gave into the ridiculous idea of not drinking coffee this morning. Boy, that was stupid! Especially after an early morning of pumping weights and then a solid-kill-your-legs-and-fall-over-afterward 500m standing start efforts. I'm back on the java - so look out!!!

Pushing

Yesterday was a hard training day. Hard in the fact that my strengths and weaknesses were displayed in full view, right before my very eyes.

With a huge workout on tap, it's tempting to think about the workout in its entirety. But if you do the beginning may be too discouraging. If you dissect each portion of the workout, break it down effort by effort - it suddenly becomes more manageable. The reason? You have to give each pedal stroke, each revolution 100% of your ability in order to get better.

Yet my mind wanders.

Why is it I battle concentration the most during my training? I'm able to easily flip the switch when I'm racing and tune out any external forces - but when I'm training, I listen to the million of voices begging for my attention, trying to divert me from the task at hand.

For example, here's what went through my head yesterday on the first of three sets of 3x300m full out rolling efforts. I should be going full gas for 20 seconds, only concentrating on pushing...

"Man this hurts. Why are my forearms rubbing on my bars? I wonder if Ryan is watching me. I wonder how Mary's efforts are going? I should smile more when I race. Those wheelsinfocus photos were not flattering - maybe I should have a surgeon fix my lips into a permanent smile. This gear is huge. Point your elbows! Flex that core! Push, push, push!!! Oh thank god that's over!"

And you know, as well as Jennie, that I didn't give that first effort my full intensity. It also didn't happen for the next one, or the one after that..... but by the last effort, the one I put my heart and soul into, the one where I got fed up I wasn't pushing - that one counted.

Afterward I felt exhausted, unable to talk. Ready to lie down in the grass and recollect my energy. My mental and physical exertion stretched to the max.

So why is it I can't give every single effort that maximum go? I strive for it every time I come out to the track. Yet I can only achieve it on my superwoman days. Time to start working the concentration aspect, I suppose.... time to push more.

I've heard meditation practice where you silence the mind for 20 seconds would help. It's hard not to let a thought interrupt you in the first 3 seconds of meditation... but with a little practice, I should be able to get up to 5 seconds.

The mind is such a powerful thing. You'd think I'd be sinking in as much energy into it as I do my physical training... time to dust off those mental training books.

I am attempting to go without coffee today. Attempting being the key objective.

After yesterday's monster track workout I could use a little boost. Especially since I already made it into the gym this morning to lift weights and am still blurry eyed.

We'll see how it goes....

It's 9:18 am and I'm already drooling for some java. RESIST!!!

It could have been a really hard weekend this past weekend. I could have stayed home, saved those bold encounters and reminders for a different time. I could have waited till another time to have a steady reminder that being in San Jose was the last time I talked to Ryan on the phone, the very last time I heard his voice and hear him say I love you. The tear filled drive home and then the beginning of my nightmare - but I went anyway. I had to. And I am so thankful to have been surrounded by my teammates and friends - excited about racing and having a great time, quick to make each other laugh.

Sure I had my moments. Like oddly finding out Michael Jackson died. I swear we were in the same location at about the same time when Ryan went out climbing - about 2 hours outside of San Jose. Is life really that random?

Then hearing from Ryan's dad for the first time in months. Hearing in his voice how hard Father's day was. I felt like sobbing out loud while warming up on my rollers before the points race.

But then being surrounded by friends from around the country. Some of whom said something, some didn't. Thank you to those who did.

Then things started getting a little easier. I raced my bike and good things happened. I felt alive. I displayed 100% of my ability. I laughed, I got paid for my podium efforts. And I smiled, a lot. I was surrounded by people who love track racing as much as I do - and it revived my passion for this sport. So much in fact, I'm seriously considering going to elite nationals.

I was reminded again of an important life lesson. Life is too short not to be doing what you love, living your passion and dreams, whatever those may be. If you don't - then one day you'll wake up and think nothing of Michael Jackson dying. :)

Oh yeah, boyyyyyeeeeeee!!!!!

Going back to Cali Wednesday. Road trip in my 1990 Vanagon with teammates Tela and Kendi. Adventures abound!

$1,000 to the points race winner. Incentive? You bet!