Friday, March 14, 2014

Excerpt from Chapter Nine...

One morning during savasana in yoga, we laid on our mats for the final few minutes of class in silence. During this quiet meditation, I could feel Ryan’s energy enter my body, wrapping me in an embrace. It was unexpected and soothing and a reminder of how much how much I missed him. As the seconds ticked into minutes, I could feel the lump in my throat building. I could feel him all around me, soaking into my skin and melting down into my heart. My emotions started to surface and tears rolled down my checks.

The teacher rang the three bells, signaling the end of class and summoning us back from deep relaxation to the present. I gently moved my fingers and toes, bringing awareness back into my limbs. I wondered if the other yogis felt the strong presence of Ryan, a love so deep that it moved me to tears.

The other people in the class were moving around, picking up their yoga mats and leaving the room. I looked over at Shawnee and she was staring back at me.

“I felt him. He was here, wasn’t he,” she said quietly, tears welling up in her eyes. I nodded yes in response.  “I didn’t know Ryan, but I am honored to get to know him through you.”

I took a deep breath, acknowledging the strength and wisdom that having someone so near to you die is now a part of my everyday existence. I moved off my yoga mat and rolled it up in a tight coil, thankful for that moment and thankful that I will never forget how much he means to me.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Prepping for Worlds

My whole body hurt. My legs were screaming at me to stop. My body felt like it was going to explode. And yet I kept pushing. 20 seconds to go. Focus on something else, anything other than the pain pulsating through my body. Fight for it! Keep those rpms up! 10 seconds. PUSH!

And done. Rest one for one minute and then throw yourself back into the pain cave. Sixteen times.

Oh micro-intervals. (For my non-cycling readers: micro intervals are usually a set length of time with a 1:1 recovery. They're short, they're sweet and they hurt, a lot. You are tapping into your VO2 zone, building on how long you can sustain that intensity and then recover. It's kind of like banging your head into a door, repeatedly and on purpose. It's like ripping your own legs off and then doing it again.)

No one would know if I gave up. If I stopped, got off the trainer, and walked away from the pain. In fact, most people would do just that. Why subject yourself to that kind of pain if you don't have to?

I'll tell you why: the ParaCycling track world championships are coming. And they're coming fast.

I'm putting in the time, bleeding out my eyeballs, putting emphasis on rest and recovery as much as quality workouts. I'm getting at least 8 hours of sleep a night. I'm lining up everything to give the 3k pursuit everything we've got.

I'm getting stronger. It hurts like hell but I'm getting stronger.

Monday, March 03, 2014

Lies, lies, lies...

Rosanne Olson/Photographer's Choice/Getty Images

Lies. Deceit. Deception.

The average person encounters 200 lies a day. That's over 12 lies an hour we're awake a day.

Why do we lie? In many ways, it's more a question of why wouldn't we lie?

"How are you?"

"Good," we respond despite the dog shit on our shoe, the parking ticket we found after we noticed someone hit and run our car. We put on a fake smile, thinking it would be easier to gloss it over rather than explain how we really feel. Because if we told someone how we really felt, we'd expose our vulnerability.

Sometimes we don't mind being lied to. And when that fake smile flashes across your friends face, you let it slide.

So why do we lie?

I'm reading a book called "LieSpotting" by Pamela Meyer. After a successful professional career, Meyer was intrigued by lying and deceit so she decided to research it. If we can detect lies through verbal and nonverbal cues, then we can stop it. Wouldn't you want to surround yourself with those you trust most? Just imagine a life without lying!