A series of firsts.

Caution: this might spark a tear or two.

As the eve of the new year (2011) drew near, I regretted its promise of a new beginning. Truth be told, 2010 was unreal for me. I felt like I made some real progress not only in the cycling sphere, but also in my personal well being. I felt a huge momentum building, strength summoning and good karma building to unprecedented heights. How could I possibly beat that?

This morning, during my normal routine, a huge smile spread across my face with the realization that 2011 is indeed already better than 2010. Sure I haven't accomplished my cycling goals (yet!), but I realized more than anything it's your attitude that counts. You choose what attitude you have each day. And realizing this power and optimism is such a gift.

Okay, so why the recent gush?

This past weekend I visited my cabin in Mazama for the first time by myself, ever. It has taken me two plus years to summon up enough strength and energy to go out there solo. I've been out there, don't get me wrong. And I've created wonderful new memories spent skiing on world class cross country terrain, climbing at the North Cascades, pedaling up the highway and zooming down it. But I've always had someone accompany me. That is, until last weekend.

Driving up to Lost River past Goat Wall still pulls at my heart strings, but not with the ferocity it first did.

The day after Ryan died, I had to go into the cabin and collect his things. I took a mental picture of the way things were - and left his red coat hanging on a coat rack. It has remained there ever since. It's a reminder of the way things were and the man that once wore it. Yet, this past trip I decided it was time. It was time to move the painful visual reminder that does nothing to fill the empty gap in my heart that will always be there for him. Call it a sign of acceptance or a symbolic act of moving on in my life, but I moved it. And I cried my eyes out.

The next day it poured. 33 degrees and miserable. My cabin is small - roughly 12'x12'. I had watched all of my movies, wrote as much as I could, read, slept, ate - and got bored. Extremely bored. So I decided to pack up and drive home. I was fueled by the mission of repainting my bedroom. I have been thinking about it for months, possibly years? Who knows when you don't keep track of time sometimes. Yet the simple act of moving the coat started a momentum. That night I cleaned out my bedroom and prepped it for a new coat of paint.

I've been in a simplify stage in my life - if you haven't used it in 6 months, then it's time to pass it on. A lot of the things I've held onto since we first moved into the house ten years ago. Getting rid of things and releasing the material power they once held is an amazing feeling. Sometimes you have to clean out that emotional baggage as well.

Again, back to this morning. I suppose more than anything, I feel like a momentum has started. And it's building strength in many ways and my eyes are wide open to its experience.