We woke up to bad news this morning.
The Waldo Canyon fire that started last weekend took a turn for the worse. What was originally a small fire has grown to epic proportions, evacuating and burning the homes of many Colorado Spring residents. The streets where I once did hill repeats are now closed, possibly engulfed in flames. It takes me 20 minutes to ride there from our house. Benjamin's work is under mandatory evacuation.
We received a text from our house and dog sitter asking us what kind of plan we have. What plan? The one where if the fires take a turn and head back toward the city plan. The one where you take any valuables you don't want burned plan.
What about the let's wake up from this nightmare plan?
We just booked flights leaving in a few hours to return back to COS from Palma. We touch down tomorrow night in a city far from how we last left it. Ash and smoke will fill the sky. We will collect our things, hoping things improve and that fire fighters are able to some how and some way contain this fire.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Yeah for remembering my camera!
 |
| A beautiful blue ocean reflects the sky. |
 |
| Oh the stories this tower could tell, I'm sure. |
 |
| The road I rode winds along this coast for 40 km. Kick ass. |
 |
| The small coastal town of Estellencs. |
 |
| I spotted a sweet straw hat here for Benjamin but alas, I had no where to stick it for the return 35km ride home. |
 |
| This is a two way street. |
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Encouragement: Pass it on.
The year was 1984. I was in our basement in Eugene, Oregon balancing on one leg, transfixed at our wooden television as Mary Lou Retton vaulted her way into Olympic history books. That year she won the all around competition, something no one outside of the Eastern Europe had accomplished. I'll never forget her steady concentration and focus as she ran down the runway toward the vault, catapulting off the hurdle, flipping around in the air and landing, scoring a perfect 10. Even at six years old, I understood the enormity of what Mary Lou had just accomplished.
I did a couple of round ups on a metal bar placed in the door jam between the family and laundry room. I knew right then and there I would never be a gymnast. No, no. I would out grow most girls by the end of that year and I was practically the same size of Mary Lou at age six! My talent would lie in my legs, undiscovered for several years. But the fire ignited.
It's important to have strong female athlete role models growing up. I wonder if things had been different if we were tuned into "The Price is Right" show instead of the '84 Olympics. Maybe I could have been a world class shopper. Nah, I don't think so.
Seeing Mary Lou do her thing on National television showed me that expressing yourself by moving your body is a good thing. That hard work, determination and sweat should be celebrated and not down played. I didn't think it strange when I was one of a couple of girls playing with the boys during recess and schooling them during kick ball and being the last person standing during dodge ball. Instead, I thought it was strange that other girls weren't playing with us. What could be more important than booting the ball over the fence or hitting all net during a pick up game of basketball?
Don't get me wrong, I had a Barbie growing up. What little girl named Jennifer born in the late 70's didn't? But she didn't hold my attention: not only were her boobs enormous, getting in the way of any kind of sport, her feet were curved for heels. Heels? Those are for the Vanna White types. And they prevent you from running forward as fast as possible.
Thankfully Title IX passed in 1972, meaning more opportunity for girls to play in organized sports. Having an older brother also helped: I wanted to do everything he did. Basketball, volleyball, track and field, soccer - we played them all. And my mom dutifully drove us to practices and games, with my little sister a babe in arms: watching, observing. I enjoyed playing with other girls on teams, but for some reason they didn't take things as seriously as I did. And since I liked sports, I excelled in them. Yet being a sensitive and intuitive child, I struggled with out performing my female peers and hurting their feelings. When I played with the boys it didn't matter. It was athlete against athlete. But with the girls, I didn't want to step on any ones' toes, let alone pull their hair so I pulled myself back.
Flash forward 12 years. I found a new sport. It empowered me beyond belief. I had a strong female mentor and role model and she introduced me to boxing. I was training with the boys simply because very few girls were into the sport. Fine by me. You want to hold back your jabs because I'm a girl? Forget it. I'm going to clock you. I came home with black eyes and a bruised nose but my heart was soaring. I found a sport that spoke to me: agility, speed, aerobic capacity, and a unique skill set. I fell head over heels in love with pugilism. It showed. I quickly excelled at the sport and was named as an alternate on the first women's world USA boxing team. I was surrounded by tough girls and I absolutely loved it.
But getting beat in the head took its toll. I suppose part of it had to do with the fact women boxing had a long way to go. In 2001, the chance of women boxing becoming an Olympic sport seemed impossible. I wanted to do what Mary Lou did - I wanted to play my part in the history books. I needed to find a new sport.
Thankfully my sport found me.
I suppose cycling was in my genes all along. My grandfather would go for 50 mile rides on a semi-weekly basis. He would return home, glistening with sweat and peel down to his undershirt, fatigued and barely able to lift his head to shovel in some food. So when a friend suggested I start commuting to work by bike, I promptly bought a bike and thought nothing of it. If Bope could do it, so could I. All I needed was a little encouragement.
(Notice a recurring theme here? Strong role models....)
Encouragement started to come in the form of out riding most men. It also helped that I had a pink bike and would secretly rub it in while cruising by them. "You just got passed by a GIRL on a PINK bike!" I would scream, in my head. That's it - enough shit talking. It's time to test your ability and start racing. I transferred my competitive urge, my fierce determination and soul into cycling. And the sport humbled me, immediately. Or should I say anytime I would point my bike uphill. I loved sprinting and going to head with the best of them, but anytime we would have a gain in elevation, I was out the back quicker then getting a flat. Sure I could win all sorts of flat road races, crits, track races - you name it. But throw in a significant hill and my weakness would come to the forefront.
Hills challenge me more than any other terrain. At first, I would mentally quit before even going up them. Then I started practicing them. And I got better. Then I pulled my hamstring and my confidence went out the door. Every year I would do the same hilly stage races, thinking something magical may have happened over the winter and every year I would curse myself for not losing those extra kilos. Eventually I gave in and focused entirely on flat and fat, I mean fast. Sure it made me feel better, but I still wanted to climb. Or at least be a contender. I wanted that overall title.
Eight years later: thousands of miles ridden, hundreds of races, wet, cold training rides, pasta feeds, and humble pies. I'm diligently working on climbing. I set new realistic expectations and moved to the mountains. And it seems to be working. I may not fly up the hill like Jimmy Cricket, but I get up them. I also ride with the guys, a lot. They push you. And I ride outside of my box. I cross my eyes that much longer, ignore the seething pain in my legs a little longer and I'm starting to get to summits that much quicker. Hard work. Determination. Strong role models. Strong training partners. And listening to goats while you climbed never hurts.
I am so thankful for the strong role models throughout my life and their unsolicited words of encouragement. They make up an important part of the female athlete I am today. Thank you to the Mary Lou's, Bope, Mom, boxing clan and cycling peers. And the countless other people who have contributed big and small in my pursuit of sweaty-ness. Don't worry, I will pass it on.
I did a couple of round ups on a metal bar placed in the door jam between the family and laundry room. I knew right then and there I would never be a gymnast. No, no. I would out grow most girls by the end of that year and I was practically the same size of Mary Lou at age six! My talent would lie in my legs, undiscovered for several years. But the fire ignited.
It's important to have strong female athlete role models growing up. I wonder if things had been different if we were tuned into "The Price is Right" show instead of the '84 Olympics. Maybe I could have been a world class shopper. Nah, I don't think so.
Seeing Mary Lou do her thing on National television showed me that expressing yourself by moving your body is a good thing. That hard work, determination and sweat should be celebrated and not down played. I didn't think it strange when I was one of a couple of girls playing with the boys during recess and schooling them during kick ball and being the last person standing during dodge ball. Instead, I thought it was strange that other girls weren't playing with us. What could be more important than booting the ball over the fence or hitting all net during a pick up game of basketball?
Don't get me wrong, I had a Barbie growing up. What little girl named Jennifer born in the late 70's didn't? But she didn't hold my attention: not only were her boobs enormous, getting in the way of any kind of sport, her feet were curved for heels. Heels? Those are for the Vanna White types. And they prevent you from running forward as fast as possible.
Thankfully Title IX passed in 1972, meaning more opportunity for girls to play in organized sports. Having an older brother also helped: I wanted to do everything he did. Basketball, volleyball, track and field, soccer - we played them all. And my mom dutifully drove us to practices and games, with my little sister a babe in arms: watching, observing. I enjoyed playing with other girls on teams, but for some reason they didn't take things as seriously as I did. And since I liked sports, I excelled in them. Yet being a sensitive and intuitive child, I struggled with out performing my female peers and hurting their feelings. When I played with the boys it didn't matter. It was athlete against athlete. But with the girls, I didn't want to step on any ones' toes, let alone pull their hair so I pulled myself back.
Flash forward 12 years. I found a new sport. It empowered me beyond belief. I had a strong female mentor and role model and she introduced me to boxing. I was training with the boys simply because very few girls were into the sport. Fine by me. You want to hold back your jabs because I'm a girl? Forget it. I'm going to clock you. I came home with black eyes and a bruised nose but my heart was soaring. I found a sport that spoke to me: agility, speed, aerobic capacity, and a unique skill set. I fell head over heels in love with pugilism. It showed. I quickly excelled at the sport and was named as an alternate on the first women's world USA boxing team. I was surrounded by tough girls and I absolutely loved it.
But getting beat in the head took its toll. I suppose part of it had to do with the fact women boxing had a long way to go. In 2001, the chance of women boxing becoming an Olympic sport seemed impossible. I wanted to do what Mary Lou did - I wanted to play my part in the history books. I needed to find a new sport.
Thankfully my sport found me.
I suppose cycling was in my genes all along. My grandfather would go for 50 mile rides on a semi-weekly basis. He would return home, glistening with sweat and peel down to his undershirt, fatigued and barely able to lift his head to shovel in some food. So when a friend suggested I start commuting to work by bike, I promptly bought a bike and thought nothing of it. If Bope could do it, so could I. All I needed was a little encouragement.
(Notice a recurring theme here? Strong role models....)
Encouragement started to come in the form of out riding most men. It also helped that I had a pink bike and would secretly rub it in while cruising by them. "You just got passed by a GIRL on a PINK bike!" I would scream, in my head. That's it - enough shit talking. It's time to test your ability and start racing. I transferred my competitive urge, my fierce determination and soul into cycling. And the sport humbled me, immediately. Or should I say anytime I would point my bike uphill. I loved sprinting and going to head with the best of them, but anytime we would have a gain in elevation, I was out the back quicker then getting a flat. Sure I could win all sorts of flat road races, crits, track races - you name it. But throw in a significant hill and my weakness would come to the forefront.
Hills challenge me more than any other terrain. At first, I would mentally quit before even going up them. Then I started practicing them. And I got better. Then I pulled my hamstring and my confidence went out the door. Every year I would do the same hilly stage races, thinking something magical may have happened over the winter and every year I would curse myself for not losing those extra kilos. Eventually I gave in and focused entirely on flat and fat, I mean fast. Sure it made me feel better, but I still wanted to climb. Or at least be a contender. I wanted that overall title.
Eight years later: thousands of miles ridden, hundreds of races, wet, cold training rides, pasta feeds, and humble pies. I'm diligently working on climbing. I set new realistic expectations and moved to the mountains. And it seems to be working. I may not fly up the hill like Jimmy Cricket, but I get up them. I also ride with the guys, a lot. They push you. And I ride outside of my box. I cross my eyes that much longer, ignore the seething pain in my legs a little longer and I'm starting to get to summits that much quicker. Hard work. Determination. Strong role models. Strong training partners. And listening to goats while you climbed never hurts.
I am so thankful for the strong role models throughout my life and their unsolicited words of encouragement. They make up an important part of the female athlete I am today. Thank you to the Mary Lou's, Bope, Mom, boxing clan and cycling peers. And the countless other people who have contributed big and small in my pursuit of sweaty-ness. Don't worry, I will pass it on.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Paddle Balls
I could live here.
Really.
Despite being thousands of miles from home, not speaking the language let alone understanding it. Actually, why not have a house based here in Mallorca and one in Colorado? Forget flying south for the winter - let's fly half way around the world. A diet built on fish, olive oil, rice - yes, please. Roads so twisty and curvy they are built for bikes and nothing else. Everyone's car bumper tell the story - these roads were built for carts not cars.
Today was an "easy" ride. It had 15 switchbacks, 35 bleating goats, roughly 10 cars, 5 cyclists going the other direction (including Marianne Vos!) and about 3,000 feet of climbing. It was also cooler - only 95 degrees instead of 115. The ridge line summit between Valledemossa and Esporles had an ocean breeze from both sides of the island, making it feel like a refrigerator at a balmy 85 degrees. It felt amazing.
Today's solo venture made me realize just how much I've come to love group rides. The hours and watts tick by, pushing you to greater heights and effort without thinking about it. I looked down a couple of times at my power meter only to think, "that's it?!?" I can push that much harder with other people around... competitive much? Not only am I hitting new max power numbers but my LT has increased by 10%. The other day we did a 40 minute climb and I stuck with the group for all but 800 meters from the top. No doubt about it, it probably would have taken me double that amount of time solo.
Yeah, yeah. The riding is good. But what else do you do?
We play paddle ball at the beach. Well, we did once. Fueled by a Tom Collins and at about 7:45pm. We sucked but giggled the entire time.
We eat amazing foods. Food at the grocery store is so much cheaper here! 100 Euros buys you a weeks worth of food for two people. Actually, it could probably cost less than that, but we are putting in some mileage here. On Benjamin's birthday, I bought 4 pounds of mussels, 2 bottles of white wine, a lemon bigger than my hand, 2 loaves of bread and parsley for 11 Euros.
I've been writing a ton. It's quiet around here, especially when Benjamin heads to the track. I spend my time writing and fine tuning things for my book. The clarity is unparalleled. Things are flowing. And I'm getting that much closer to having a due date.
I got to witness my first Euro bike race! Holy shit it was chaotic! 140 people started and only about 40 finished. One thing's for sure - no matter where you are in the world, a bike race is a bike race. Tires being pumped and numbers being pinned. The biggest difference, other than the narrow roads and hundreds of people mulling about is that the announcer only spoke Spanish. It's nice to know our breed transcends cultures.
The girls are getting super fit. It's really an honor to see them prepare for London. The excitement is building. Get ready world!
Really.
Despite being thousands of miles from home, not speaking the language let alone understanding it. Actually, why not have a house based here in Mallorca and one in Colorado? Forget flying south for the winter - let's fly half way around the world. A diet built on fish, olive oil, rice - yes, please. Roads so twisty and curvy they are built for bikes and nothing else. Everyone's car bumper tell the story - these roads were built for carts not cars.
Today was an "easy" ride. It had 15 switchbacks, 35 bleating goats, roughly 10 cars, 5 cyclists going the other direction (including Marianne Vos!) and about 3,000 feet of climbing. It was also cooler - only 95 degrees instead of 115. The ridge line summit between Valledemossa and Esporles had an ocean breeze from both sides of the island, making it feel like a refrigerator at a balmy 85 degrees. It felt amazing.
Today's solo venture made me realize just how much I've come to love group rides. The hours and watts tick by, pushing you to greater heights and effort without thinking about it. I looked down a couple of times at my power meter only to think, "that's it?!?" I can push that much harder with other people around... competitive much? Not only am I hitting new max power numbers but my LT has increased by 10%. The other day we did a 40 minute climb and I stuck with the group for all but 800 meters from the top. No doubt about it, it probably would have taken me double that amount of time solo.
Yeah, yeah. The riding is good. But what else do you do?
We play paddle ball at the beach. Well, we did once. Fueled by a Tom Collins and at about 7:45pm. We sucked but giggled the entire time.
We eat amazing foods. Food at the grocery store is so much cheaper here! 100 Euros buys you a weeks worth of food for two people. Actually, it could probably cost less than that, but we are putting in some mileage here. On Benjamin's birthday, I bought 4 pounds of mussels, 2 bottles of white wine, a lemon bigger than my hand, 2 loaves of bread and parsley for 11 Euros.
I've been writing a ton. It's quiet around here, especially when Benjamin heads to the track. I spend my time writing and fine tuning things for my book. The clarity is unparalleled. Things are flowing. And I'm getting that much closer to having a due date.
I got to witness my first Euro bike race! Holy shit it was chaotic! 140 people started and only about 40 finished. One thing's for sure - no matter where you are in the world, a bike race is a bike race. Tires being pumped and numbers being pinned. The biggest difference, other than the narrow roads and hundreds of people mulling about is that the announcer only spoke Spanish. It's nice to know our breed transcends cultures.
The girls are getting super fit. It's really an honor to see them prepare for London. The excitement is building. Get ready world!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
BIG training.
Oh the places I have seen, the roads we have pedaled, and the pounding heart rates and heavy breathing. If you want to ever go on a cycling holiday, Mallorca should be on the top of your list. Miles and miles, or excuse me, kilometers and kilometers of smoothly paved roads, twisty fun summits and daring fast descents. Courteous drivers, cheering bystanders, and town sprint signs. Couple that with several Olympic cyclists and well, you have yourself a pinch me, I must be dreaming opportunity. It baffles me how the series of life events has lead me here - roaming the Spanish hillside and chasing watts and personal bests up climbs.
Today we visited the Orient. Don't let the name fool you. I think it should be renamed the Disorient - as going above Super LT for 15 minutes straight, turning back around and then doing it again two more times left me drained. And try as I did to sustain that power, it was no match for one of the guys who cruised by me like I was standing still. So that's what 400 watts looks like. Well done, sir!
The only thing that got me up the last one was the fact that I would get to descend it.
Pushing yourself to your physical limit came with a reward today: an afternoon nap in front of the fan. I passed out, book open, legs curled up and woke up to an ache. The hams are getting a workout and are starting to scream in protest. Today was a short day - only 2.5 hours in the saddle, tallying 22 hours or so of saddle time this week. My tan lines look sweet on the beach and I'm not self-conscious about them at all. Ha!
Next up: a solo venture to the supermarket. I'm picking up some mussels tonight for a certain somebody's birthday celebration. Super stoked to be able to spend this time with Benjamin in paradise.
Today we visited the Orient. Don't let the name fool you. I think it should be renamed the Disorient - as going above Super LT for 15 minutes straight, turning back around and then doing it again two more times left me drained. And try as I did to sustain that power, it was no match for one of the guys who cruised by me like I was standing still. So that's what 400 watts looks like. Well done, sir!
The only thing that got me up the last one was the fact that I would get to descend it.
Pushing yourself to your physical limit came with a reward today: an afternoon nap in front of the fan. I passed out, book open, legs curled up and woke up to an ache. The hams are getting a workout and are starting to scream in protest. Today was a short day - only 2.5 hours in the saddle, tallying 22 hours or so of saddle time this week. My tan lines look sweet on the beach and I'm not self-conscious about them at all. Ha!
Next up: a solo venture to the supermarket. I'm picking up some mussels tonight for a certain somebody's birthday celebration. Super stoked to be able to spend this time with Benjamin in paradise.
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Inspired
I came to Spain eager to get back to writing. I've been pent up lately, mucked by work and other obligations taking priority. But now I have time, between epic road rides and recovery. The life of Riley, eh? I know, lucky indeed.
My journal is filled with wet ink. Words are spouting out with such urgency, such flow, that hours whiz by. My shoulder is achy and hand arthritic from scribing my observations out. This is what work should be like: where you get lost in time, lost in thought, lost in the passion of what you are doing. It's nice to be reminded that it's time to eat or sleep - you were just too absorbed to notice.
It's nice to find yourself.
I remember feeling lost at a young age. Sitting around and doing nothing always bothered me. Something was stirring inside of me, something I couldn't put my finger on. Something that left me troubled yet unable to come to action.
Thirty-four years young, I've come to recognize and accept that feeling. The one where I must be doing something to feel connected: to feel like my soul and mind aren't being wasted in time. If I just sit there, soaking in nothingness, I get restless.
Ironically, I lose myself when I write. The world around me becomes white noise as I frantically try to keep up with my train of thought. If I pause and soak in what is going on around me, it's like taking a deep breath of air and rejuvenates my spirit. I am here to write: to transcribe the world as I see it. To reveal taboo subjects: sex, death, surrender, acceptance. Human nature and my personal perspective on things. I'm embracing the random nature of thought, the chaotic jumble of understanding, the frantic struggle to get it out before it escapes. These are my truths. This what makes me pause during the day, appreciating life and living it to the fullest.
1. NEVER SETTLE.
Settling is for people who lost faith in their beliefs. Who lost patience in pursuing their dreams. Who gave up because that was easier and felt safe at the time. Settling is what keeps unhappy in situations long after they've run their course. Settling is an excuse ans seemingly the norm. Screw the norm. Find your dreams, pursue them with passion and stop listening to doubt.
2. TAKE THE RISK.
If your heart is telling you to travel, have a baby, fall in love, shoot a basket, then DO IT. What are you waiting for? An invitation? A perfect moment? Are you waiting for it to be safe? Stop joshing around and take the plunge. The greatest risk is the one not taken. Cliche? Sure. True? Absolutely.
3. SURROUND YOURSELF WITH POSITIVE PEOPLE.
And no one else. Got a "friend" who gets you down every time you hang out? Do yourself a favor - ditch them. You must surround yourself with upbeat, passionate people. The ones who are overly optimistic. Who grab life by the horns and boldly laugh. Who ooze good times and happiness, every day. Those type of people tend to attract others of similar disposition - so keep them near. Next thing you know you'll be surrounded by a village of glass brimming with water people. They will faithfully support your decisions, maintain your well being and give you high fives for your accomplishments. It's in their nature.
4. MOVE SOMEWHERE SUNNY.
No joke. I had no idea how much this one would hold true until I finally took the leap and moved out of the soggy Pacific Northwest. NO. IDEA. And now that I have, I feel like a recovering rain-aholic. Seriously. Something as simple as waking up to sunny skies nearly every day puts a permanent smile on my face. And smiles are a display of inward happiness. Need I say more?
5. EXERCISE YOUR BODY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
Okay, you don't have to become an exercise fanatic (but it wouldn't hurt!). Figure out what motivates you: a race, a group ride, zumba, jogging, hiking, kayaking, paddle boarding, you name it! But take the time each day to fit exercise into your schedule. I've heard and made excuses in my life to do this, or not. But the moment I put my mind to it and took it seriously. I easily made those goals. And once you achieve those goals, don't stop there. Keep going. Revise them so they are challenging and doable. Celebrate your successes. Optimize your pursuit.
6. BE THE MASTER OF YOUR DESTINY.
Anything you imagine, you can become. What the mind believes, the body achieves. This is such a broad saying, which is why I love it so much. You, and you alone, have the power and key to personal happiness. If something isn't going your way, change it. How? Figure out a way. If that means moving, taking risks, exposing your heart and desires to perfect strangers, so be it. The universe has an amazing way of bouncing back the vibrations you send out. Sending out the positive, open minded and true feelings bounces right back. It allows you to focus on the positive, taking less than ideal situations in stride and seeing the lessons they bestow. This is more than just a saying, it's a way of being and living. The sooner you open up and accept your reality, the sooner good things can happen. Be true and honest in your approach. Be respectful and trust the process.
7. FOLLOW YOUR HUNCH AND INTUITION.
Some people's intuitions speak louder than others. Recognize when that inner voice of wisdom is speaking to you and trust it. Be patient and kind. Honing this special gift takes time. But once you harness its power, never doubt it. Believe in yourself.
8. ATTEMPT THE "IMPOSSIBLE".
Why place limiters on life or how it "should" be followed? If there's something that is a road block in your life, try figuring out another way around, through or behind it. Inventors make discoveries by attempting the impossible. Take charge of those limits and test their waters. You might surprise yourself.
9. BUCK CONVENTIONAL THINKING.
If you're attempting to solve the same problems, a new approach may be all it takes. Get outside, go for a hike, clear your mind. Remove the blinders and limiters, open your heart and mind and try something new.
10. IGNORE OTHER PEOPLES JUDGEMENT.
They aren't you. They don't know you. Yet why do you think their opinion matters? It doesn't. Worry about your unique experience, your own life and remove any power judgement holds over you. Wear red. Wear pink. Go naked. But whatever you do, don't wear other people's shade of judgement. You're better than that, smarter than that. And your decisions made from clear thinking are sound. Believe in yourself.
11. DON'T JUDGE OTHERS.
Every person on this planet is here to survive, guaranteeing billions of unique views and ways of doing things. No one gave you the right to declare one way better than another to complete a task. Save the judgement, or rather, ditch it all together.
12. EAT WELL.
You are what you eat. Fuel the body with nutritious foods. Whole grains, vegetables, fruits, fish, fats - yes, please. Your body is a temple and the only physical one you've got. Step away from the fast food and refined sugar! Step away from the cookie jar!
13. BE KIND - TO EVERYONE.
Practicing random acts of kindness really does work. It also builds your karma bank. Being kind shows your inner beauty, a testament to your character. Hold open doors for strangers, carry groceries for the elderly, call your grandparents, let someone else go first in line. Life is precious and is meant to be shared with others.
14. BECOME AN EXPERT.
Get really, really good at doing something. Not just mediocre, but great, fantastic, AMAZING!!!! Become a guru in something and do it with passion. Figure out how to make money doing so. The rest will fall into place. But only after you show your unfaltering work ethic and dedication toward something. Devote your life toward it: love, work, play, hobby, kids, you name it. But do that one thing exceptionally well before moving on to master something else.
15. LOVE PASSIONATELY, UNCONDITIONALLY AND WITH RECKLESS ABANDON.
Again, this is something that if the planets are aligned right, will resonate back to you tenfold. Take the risk. Hold loved ones near. Tell them and show them your love in thousands of ways, big and small. Cherish your time together, never taking it for granted. Express your gratitude toward them. Write love notes, bestow flowers, give kisses and hugs and signs of affection. Tell them you love them, every day. And never go to bed angry.
My journal is filled with wet ink. Words are spouting out with such urgency, such flow, that hours whiz by. My shoulder is achy and hand arthritic from scribing my observations out. This is what work should be like: where you get lost in time, lost in thought, lost in the passion of what you are doing. It's nice to be reminded that it's time to eat or sleep - you were just too absorbed to notice.
It's nice to find yourself.
I remember feeling lost at a young age. Sitting around and doing nothing always bothered me. Something was stirring inside of me, something I couldn't put my finger on. Something that left me troubled yet unable to come to action.
Thirty-four years young, I've come to recognize and accept that feeling. The one where I must be doing something to feel connected: to feel like my soul and mind aren't being wasted in time. If I just sit there, soaking in nothingness, I get restless.
Ironically, I lose myself when I write. The world around me becomes white noise as I frantically try to keep up with my train of thought. If I pause and soak in what is going on around me, it's like taking a deep breath of air and rejuvenates my spirit. I am here to write: to transcribe the world as I see it. To reveal taboo subjects: sex, death, surrender, acceptance. Human nature and my personal perspective on things. I'm embracing the random nature of thought, the chaotic jumble of understanding, the frantic struggle to get it out before it escapes. These are my truths. This what makes me pause during the day, appreciating life and living it to the fullest.
1. NEVER SETTLE.
Settling is for people who lost faith in their beliefs. Who lost patience in pursuing their dreams. Who gave up because that was easier and felt safe at the time. Settling is what keeps unhappy in situations long after they've run their course. Settling is an excuse ans seemingly the norm. Screw the norm. Find your dreams, pursue them with passion and stop listening to doubt.
2. TAKE THE RISK.
If your heart is telling you to travel, have a baby, fall in love, shoot a basket, then DO IT. What are you waiting for? An invitation? A perfect moment? Are you waiting for it to be safe? Stop joshing around and take the plunge. The greatest risk is the one not taken. Cliche? Sure. True? Absolutely.
3. SURROUND YOURSELF WITH POSITIVE PEOPLE.
And no one else. Got a "friend" who gets you down every time you hang out? Do yourself a favor - ditch them. You must surround yourself with upbeat, passionate people. The ones who are overly optimistic. Who grab life by the horns and boldly laugh. Who ooze good times and happiness, every day. Those type of people tend to attract others of similar disposition - so keep them near. Next thing you know you'll be surrounded by a village of glass brimming with water people. They will faithfully support your decisions, maintain your well being and give you high fives for your accomplishments. It's in their nature.
4. MOVE SOMEWHERE SUNNY.
No joke. I had no idea how much this one would hold true until I finally took the leap and moved out of the soggy Pacific Northwest. NO. IDEA. And now that I have, I feel like a recovering rain-aholic. Seriously. Something as simple as waking up to sunny skies nearly every day puts a permanent smile on my face. And smiles are a display of inward happiness. Need I say more?
5. EXERCISE YOUR BODY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
Okay, you don't have to become an exercise fanatic (but it wouldn't hurt!). Figure out what motivates you: a race, a group ride, zumba, jogging, hiking, kayaking, paddle boarding, you name it! But take the time each day to fit exercise into your schedule. I've heard and made excuses in my life to do this, or not. But the moment I put my mind to it and took it seriously. I easily made those goals. And once you achieve those goals, don't stop there. Keep going. Revise them so they are challenging and doable. Celebrate your successes. Optimize your pursuit.
6. BE THE MASTER OF YOUR DESTINY.
Anything you imagine, you can become. What the mind believes, the body achieves. This is such a broad saying, which is why I love it so much. You, and you alone, have the power and key to personal happiness. If something isn't going your way, change it. How? Figure out a way. If that means moving, taking risks, exposing your heart and desires to perfect strangers, so be it. The universe has an amazing way of bouncing back the vibrations you send out. Sending out the positive, open minded and true feelings bounces right back. It allows you to focus on the positive, taking less than ideal situations in stride and seeing the lessons they bestow. This is more than just a saying, it's a way of being and living. The sooner you open up and accept your reality, the sooner good things can happen. Be true and honest in your approach. Be respectful and trust the process.
7. FOLLOW YOUR HUNCH AND INTUITION.
Some people's intuitions speak louder than others. Recognize when that inner voice of wisdom is speaking to you and trust it. Be patient and kind. Honing this special gift takes time. But once you harness its power, never doubt it. Believe in yourself.
8. ATTEMPT THE "IMPOSSIBLE".
Why place limiters on life or how it "should" be followed? If there's something that is a road block in your life, try figuring out another way around, through or behind it. Inventors make discoveries by attempting the impossible. Take charge of those limits and test their waters. You might surprise yourself.
9. BUCK CONVENTIONAL THINKING.
If you're attempting to solve the same problems, a new approach may be all it takes. Get outside, go for a hike, clear your mind. Remove the blinders and limiters, open your heart and mind and try something new.
10. IGNORE OTHER PEOPLES JUDGEMENT.
They aren't you. They don't know you. Yet why do you think their opinion matters? It doesn't. Worry about your unique experience, your own life and remove any power judgement holds over you. Wear red. Wear pink. Go naked. But whatever you do, don't wear other people's shade of judgement. You're better than that, smarter than that. And your decisions made from clear thinking are sound. Believe in yourself.
11. DON'T JUDGE OTHERS.
Every person on this planet is here to survive, guaranteeing billions of unique views and ways of doing things. No one gave you the right to declare one way better than another to complete a task. Save the judgement, or rather, ditch it all together.
12. EAT WELL.
You are what you eat. Fuel the body with nutritious foods. Whole grains, vegetables, fruits, fish, fats - yes, please. Your body is a temple and the only physical one you've got. Step away from the fast food and refined sugar! Step away from the cookie jar!
13. BE KIND - TO EVERYONE.
Practicing random acts of kindness really does work. It also builds your karma bank. Being kind shows your inner beauty, a testament to your character. Hold open doors for strangers, carry groceries for the elderly, call your grandparents, let someone else go first in line. Life is precious and is meant to be shared with others.
14. BECOME AN EXPERT.
Get really, really good at doing something. Not just mediocre, but great, fantastic, AMAZING!!!! Become a guru in something and do it with passion. Figure out how to make money doing so. The rest will fall into place. But only after you show your unfaltering work ethic and dedication toward something. Devote your life toward it: love, work, play, hobby, kids, you name it. But do that one thing exceptionally well before moving on to master something else.
15. LOVE PASSIONATELY, UNCONDITIONALLY AND WITH RECKLESS ABANDON.
Again, this is something that if the planets are aligned right, will resonate back to you tenfold. Take the risk. Hold loved ones near. Tell them and show them your love in thousands of ways, big and small. Cherish your time together, never taking it for granted. Express your gratitude toward them. Write love notes, bestow flowers, give kisses and hugs and signs of affection. Tell them you love them, every day. And never go to bed angry.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
Mallorca, Spain
So this is paradise. Sunny, warm weather, twisty well paved roads, low population (aside from the beaches), olive orchards, happy birds and sharing it with my love. It's better than I imagined.
I can see the Mediterranean Ocean from our terrace. The ocean air is rich with oxygen. The hills are dotted with limestone outcrops and long bands of exposed rock. The roads are never straight or busy with traffic. I feel like my heart was stolen and I've only been here 24 hours.
Yes, please.
I can see the Mediterranean Ocean from our terrace. The ocean air is rich with oxygen. The hills are dotted with limestone outcrops and long bands of exposed rock. The roads are never straight or busy with traffic. I feel like my heart was stolen and I've only been here 24 hours.
Yes, please.
R. Triplett Tribute #5
This is the fourth year since Ryan's passing. In commemoration
of his being, I'm putting out a series of 5 tributes: a collection of
short true stories of experiences we shared and in essence, give you a
glimpse of his unforgettable character. With his 35th birthday coming up
on June 5th, and going into the fifth year of his absence, I wanted the
world know what a big impression he left on my life.
The Ultimate Birthday Gift.
Given the tragic set of circumstances surrounding Ryan's sudden death, my life was guaranteed to change. Having someone so close in my life, someone who slept in the same bed, shared the same dreams, thoughts, aspirations and friendship, suddenly disappear left me in complete shock.
It is impossible to imagine such loss until it happens to you.
How I managed to get through the year of firsts continues to baffle me. Whole months of my life lapsed in a time warp, lost as quickly and suddenly as Ryan left. During that time, my soul traveled to unmentionable depths, into an unfathomable abyss.
Yet through the slow, steady passage of time, I started to come to a grand realization. Something that without the experience of loss would never have revealed itself. A gift so amazing, so unique, so touching and grand that I thank my lucky stars everyday for becoming apparent to me.
What is that gift?
It's living life to the fullest. It's recognizing and putting steps in motion to make your dreams come true. It's opening your eyes, heart and soul to truly experiencing life. To following your dreams, never settling, following your intuition and loving every minute of it.
After 4 years of Ryan being gone, I can honestly say I've had more growth than I ever thought possible. I"ve moved to a sunny climate, bought a house, fallen madly in love and continue to chase my dreams. I'm not sure if this would have been my path regardless of Ryan's death, but I'm accepting what happened and looking at it as a huge gift.
Happy Birthday, Ryan. You are missed but your spirit carries on in so many ways. Thank you for showing me.
I am the luckiest girl on the planet.
The Ultimate Birthday Gift.
Given the tragic set of circumstances surrounding Ryan's sudden death, my life was guaranteed to change. Having someone so close in my life, someone who slept in the same bed, shared the same dreams, thoughts, aspirations and friendship, suddenly disappear left me in complete shock.
It is impossible to imagine such loss until it happens to you.
How I managed to get through the year of firsts continues to baffle me. Whole months of my life lapsed in a time warp, lost as quickly and suddenly as Ryan left. During that time, my soul traveled to unmentionable depths, into an unfathomable abyss.
Yet through the slow, steady passage of time, I started to come to a grand realization. Something that without the experience of loss would never have revealed itself. A gift so amazing, so unique, so touching and grand that I thank my lucky stars everyday for becoming apparent to me.
What is that gift?
It's living life to the fullest. It's recognizing and putting steps in motion to make your dreams come true. It's opening your eyes, heart and soul to truly experiencing life. To following your dreams, never settling, following your intuition and loving every minute of it.
After 4 years of Ryan being gone, I can honestly say I've had more growth than I ever thought possible. I"ve moved to a sunny climate, bought a house, fallen madly in love and continue to chase my dreams. I'm not sure if this would have been my path regardless of Ryan's death, but I'm accepting what happened and looking at it as a huge gift.
Happy Birthday, Ryan. You are missed but your spirit carries on in so many ways. Thank you for showing me.
I am the luckiest girl on the planet.
Saturday, June 02, 2012
Philly!
Let's play a little game called: see how much time you can spend off your feat while you are in Philadelphia waiting for a big race game, shall we?
Turns out I'm good, really good at this one.
The city is a buzz with the big race tomorrow. Nearly everyone we passed on the mornings recon ride wished us luck. They know it's a man eating course. Smiling at the crazy lycra clad groups who are all getting ready for a gladiator slaughter. Being a virgin gives me some advantage, I think. The lack of repeat demons, the eyes wide open, the unknown. Oh boy. If I can figure out a way to summon all of their energy into getting me over that big ass wall of a climb, I'll be good! Yeah, I know. It's only 800 metres. But one section is 17% grade, gulp. Man eating and baby, I'm fresh blood.
Yes, that's a 28 on the back. No, I'm not riding it in my big ring... And I plan on using that pizza pie!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Stoked!
Do you ever have those days when you wake up just stoked? Stoked to be alive. Stoked for the things that are coming your way. Stoked from recognition of all the amazing things going on in your life. Stoked from all the love surrounding you. Stoked just for the sake of being stoked?
Me neither.
Just kidding. Today is totally one of those days. And I'm pretty sure I know why - in roughly 48 hours I'm leaving on a big 5 week adventure. First stop - Philadelphia to race in the Liberty Classic on Sunday. I'm guest riding for a team called Cawes based out of DC. My friend Jocelyn hooked me up with these ladies and I can't wait! It's going to be hard, challenging and fantastic, all at once. Going to battle on this level is a new experience and I'm looking forward to absorbing, learning and seeing how I stack up.
Then come Monday afternoon, I continue my journey East over the big pond (Atlantic Ocean) and fly into Benjamin's arms on the Spanish island of Mallorca. He's over there doing pre-Olympic training with the girls and I get to tag along. For a month. Yippee!!!
See? Lots of things to be stoked about.
Me neither.
Just kidding. Today is totally one of those days. And I'm pretty sure I know why - in roughly 48 hours I'm leaving on a big 5 week adventure. First stop - Philadelphia to race in the Liberty Classic on Sunday. I'm guest riding for a team called Cawes based out of DC. My friend Jocelyn hooked me up with these ladies and I can't wait! It's going to be hard, challenging and fantastic, all at once. Going to battle on this level is a new experience and I'm looking forward to absorbing, learning and seeing how I stack up.
Then come Monday afternoon, I continue my journey East over the big pond (Atlantic Ocean) and fly into Benjamin's arms on the Spanish island of Mallorca. He's over there doing pre-Olympic training with the girls and I get to tag along. For a month. Yippee!!!
See? Lots of things to be stoked about.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Coal Miner's Daughter
Wearing pink shorts, corn rose and a stocky frame, Christi Martin is my idol. "The Coal Miner's Daughter" was her nickname and she without a doubt helped legitimize women's boxing. She had 57 fights in her career, with 49 wins, 31 of which were by knock out.
This montage is from the Laila Ali vs. Christi Martin fight. You read that right: Ali has a daughter, in case you haven't heard. She towered over Christi. And knocked her out. Did that keep her from getting back in the ring? No way.
With a career spanning from 1989 to 2011, her last recorded fight was in 2011. It stopped in the 6th round because she broke her hand. Read: Tough Cookie.
The reason I bring her up: yesterday was the Coal Miner's Race in Louisville. Around and around we went on a 2 mile circuit. Blows were traded - attacks and counters. Keeping your head in the game and your wits about you is crucial to succeeding. In a small field of 15, there's no room to hide. You have to work. You are also going round and round with more than one opponent. You must calculate the risk of break combinations that go up the road. You must calculate your tank and its reserves, monitoring it's levels and knowing how many matches you have. Thankfully, you aren't getting punched in the head. Instead your legs are taking the blows.
Final lap - judge decision time. No TKO's today - the field is compact and together. Jockey for position, sitting fourth/fifth wheel before the final bend. It's show time. Time to demonstrate your tactics, your sprint, your power. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't. Yesterday it worked. Another win. Another set of goosebumps so big and then a wave of nausea - making me feel so alive. So thankful for the opportunity to compete. So grateful my sport no longer involves broken noses, black eyes and constant concussions.
I may have stopped boxing a decade ago, but the competitor never faltered. I love this shit.
Friday, May 25, 2012
R. Triplett Tribute #4
This is the fourth year since Ryan's passing. In commemoration
of his being, I'm putting out a series of 5 tributes: a collection of
short true stories of experiences we shared and in essence, give you a
glimpse of his unforgettable character. With his 35th birthday coming up
on June 5th, and going into the fifth year of his absence, I wanted the
world know what a big impression he left on my life.
Every time I hear the Postal Service, I am transported back to 2001. We had just married and had so much adventure and life a head of us. A honeymoon in Yosemite, nearly dying, bringing Makiah into our lives, moving to Seattle, starting new.
Death Cab for Cutie blossomed out of Bellingham the same time we did.
Flash forward to September 7, 2008....
When Ryan passed, word spread like wild fire. The outpouring from the cycling and climbing communities was huge. 300 people showed up to his memorial, a testament to the people he touched. I was speechless. One person after another got up and told a funny sweet story about Ryan.
I feel for those who never met him. Each person who spoke said they felt like Ryan was their best friend. He never judged anyone, always made time for those he loved and listened well.
Every time I hear the Postal Service, I am transported back to 2001. We had just married and had so much adventure and life a head of us. A honeymoon in Yosemite, nearly dying, bringing Makiah into our lives, moving to Seattle, starting new.
Death Cab for Cutie blossomed out of Bellingham the same time we did.
Flash forward to September 7, 2008....
When Ryan passed, word spread like wild fire. The outpouring from the cycling and climbing communities was huge. 300 people showed up to his memorial, a testament to the people he touched. I was speechless. One person after another got up and told a funny sweet story about Ryan.
I feel for those who never met him. Each person who spoke said they felt like Ryan was their best friend. He never judged anyone, always made time for those he loved and listened well.
Josh put together an amazing compilation of songs. Songs that Ryan listened to, songs that embodied his spirit, songs that remind me of him that I swear he's in the room with me whenever I listen to them.
I haven't cried like this in a while. I actually have more snot on my clothing from my own nose then Moonli's. I know it's part of the process - part of the healing and remembering and love. Oh, the path of life. Sometimes it rips your heart out. To have found love again is such a gift. Something so unexpected and wonderful. Thank you Ryan.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Porsche 2012 Track Day
Today was like a powder day on the slopes. You don't mind that you're getting up super early because you know you are guaranteed a shit eating grin from ear to ear, all day. I even woke up before my alarm went off - impressive!
Why, might you ask?
This might have had something to do with it....Porsche of Colorado Springs sponsors our Pro Design bike racing team. And part of our team membership includes volunteering for various events. Today's event: 8+ hours of track time down in Fountain, Colorado at Pike Peak International Raceway.
It was rough.
I haven't squealed like that since Six Flags with Benjamin.
They actually let me drive this thing. 115 mph (or maybe more? I wasn't looking at the dashboard....)
Porsche of COS rented the entire track as a thank you to its customers and even some upper management came to check it out. Joe Brenner, a friend and GM put on quite a show.
Thanks Porsche. I now have a new interest....
Monday, May 21, 2012
Bon voyage!
It's just me and the puppies this Monday morning. Benjamin left in the wee hours this morning - Olympics bound. Next stop: Majorca, then London. Two and a half months of travel away from COS... a little over 70 days till the USA girls take to the velodrome.
It's kind of a big deal, yo.
What a wild trip it's been.
It's kind of a big deal, yo.
What a wild trip it's been.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Superior Morgul Classic
I'm lounging in Denver right now, at my teammate Therese's house listening to the rain showers pass through. The legs are propped up, the butt nearly asleep, the tummy full and a slight smile satisfaction spreading. Last night I slept 10+ hours, sleep that I apparently needed. And it paid off today. Thank goodness because the day before the uphill TT killed me. Well, nearly killed me.
I definitely recommend pre-riding a TT course any time you get a chance. Scratch that. It should be mandatory. Show up to the race as early as you have to - but make it a priority. Profile views of a course are only so helpful. That being said, the course favored those who have suffered up it before. And guess what? The top several podium spots were all Boulder locals. Flora Duffy, a recent Olympic selection athlete, Heather Fischer, a recent Collegiate National Champion, Cari Higgins, a general bad ass professional, etc - sick competition if you ask me. And that's just to name a few.
Today provided a little redemption. Actually, it provided a lot. I even got into a two up breakaway, then soloed off the front for 4 laps, won a QOM point sprint and then recovered back in the pack long enough to recharge for the final sprint, ending up 3rd. Not shabby!
And now I rest up for tomorrows queen stage - a 54 mile road race that travels up the "wall" 5 times. Perfect practice for Philly. And time to see if those hill repeats will pay off.
Nail. Hammer, hammer, hammer.
I definitely recommend pre-riding a TT course any time you get a chance. Scratch that. It should be mandatory. Show up to the race as early as you have to - but make it a priority. Profile views of a course are only so helpful. That being said, the course favored those who have suffered up it before. And guess what? The top several podium spots were all Boulder locals. Flora Duffy, a recent Olympic selection athlete, Heather Fischer, a recent Collegiate National Champion, Cari Higgins, a general bad ass professional, etc - sick competition if you ask me. And that's just to name a few.
Today provided a little redemption. Actually, it provided a lot. I even got into a two up breakaway, then soloed off the front for 4 laps, won a QOM point sprint and then recovered back in the pack long enough to recharge for the final sprint, ending up 3rd. Not shabby!
And now I rest up for tomorrows queen stage - a 54 mile road race that travels up the "wall" 5 times. Perfect practice for Philly. And time to see if those hill repeats will pay off.
Nail. Hammer, hammer, hammer.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
R. Triplett Tribute #3
This is the fourth year since Ryan's passing. In commemoration
of his being, I'm putting out a series of 5 tributes: a collection of
short true stories of experiences we shared and in essence, give you a
glimpse of his unforgettable character. With his 35th birthday coming up
on June 5th, and going into the fifth year of his absence, I wanted the
world know what a big impression he left on my life.
Ryan was an athlete at conception. He came out of his mother's womb ready to tackle the world. By age two he was skiing down Washington State's steep terrain, skating circles around most adults on the ice and by age four, pointing his skis straight down hill with no fear. In school his drive was recognized as he made All Star team after All Star team, despite usually being the smallest guy on the squad.
His work ethic and natural born talent made him extremely coach-able and dozens and dozens of Most Valuable Player awards adorned his trophy collections.
His mom, understanding his drive and passion, supported him the best way a mother can - driving him to and from hockey practice, to the mountains, basketball courts and soccer fields. But his focus didn't end on the training grounds - Ryan would come home and do hundreds of sit ups and push ups in his room after practice. Tom, his step dad, would walk into his room, hearing Ryan counting and strange noises from upstairs and catch him legs wrapped around his top bunk, suspended in air and doing sit ups, "24, 25, 26, 27..." and start adding in numbers: "8, 16, 4, 7, 23". Ryan would lose track, get upset and then start all over again from the beginning.
In high school, Ryan focused primarily on hockey. He spent the majority of his time in Canada - teaching in Penticton, playing with sharp skates, hurling sticks and reaching his VO2 Max daily. Again, since he was smaller than most, he worked even harder. Bigger, slower opponents could send him flying across the ice but they'd have to catch him first. And often Ryan skated circles around them. He also was the one to start the most fights - losing his front tooth before he had his first tattoo.
By the time Ryan and I met, hockey had run its course in his life. Or at least wasn't the dominant drive it had once been. Hanging out with his friends and partying became important. He took a year off from school after graduating high school. Yet somehow, call it fate or destiny, our circle of friends knew one another and as a result we met. But his drive and passion was shifting.
He enrolled back in school and applied himself to his studies. He excelled at math and computer science. And during that time he discovered rock climbing. Or rather, it discovered him. He became obsessed, as only a lifelong athlete can. But living in the wet Pacific Northwest climate is rough for a burgeoning climber. I remember early one summer, I dropped Ryan off at Josh's house for a two week long road/climbing trip, and he returned transformed. That trip cemented his love for climbing.
By default, I started climbing too. I loved spending time with Ryan, in the outdoors and going places only a handful of people on the planet have been. We spent our honeymoon in Yosemite - the birthplace of American climbing. We traveled to Europe to climb Fontainebleu, Ceuse, the Dolomites, the Bavarian Forest, Chamonix. We road tripped down to Arizona, California, Oregon, Idaho, Colorado, and Utah.
During those road trips, we would swap driving but every time rock came into view, either off the side of the freeway or an obscure place, Ryan would forget he was behind the wheel and marvel at the rock, nearly crashing. And if I was behind the wheel, he would glue his eyes to the window asking me to slow down. What did he see? What was this drive?
It was becoming clear to me that Ryan's love for climbing went beyond normal interests. He was so passionate about rocks - the way they form, the way they feel, the way they climb - that I had to find something I was equally as passionate about. Unfortunately it wasn't hauling myself up granite slabs. Sure, I enjoyed it. Especially multi-pitch adventure routes. But it stopped there. Cycling entered into my life and swept me off my feet.
Even though we were involved in different sports and as a result spent a lot of time apart on the weekends, we both saw the importance of supporting one another in our sports. Not a day went by where he would ask me how my ride was that day, nor I him about the bouldering problem he was tackling. When ever I would ride up to Little Si after work to meet him and his friends at World Wall 1, I would be introduced to people and they would know more about my cycling career then I would. Ryan was so proud of me, and I in turn of him.
I saw and recognized the beauty of following your passion. Of devoting your life toward what drives you. Of being absolutely content because you are following your heart. Ryan's heart yearned to climb upside down. He loved the physical challenge and the mental fortitude required. Any one who knew him saw this about his character immediately.
Every time I see an outcrop of rock (and there are a lot of them here in Colorado Springs), I think of him. I look at the natural climbing lines, its texture and am reminded that following your passion is the only way to live.
Ryan was an athlete at conception. He came out of his mother's womb ready to tackle the world. By age two he was skiing down Washington State's steep terrain, skating circles around most adults on the ice and by age four, pointing his skis straight down hill with no fear. In school his drive was recognized as he made All Star team after All Star team, despite usually being the smallest guy on the squad.
His work ethic and natural born talent made him extremely coach-able and dozens and dozens of Most Valuable Player awards adorned his trophy collections.
His mom, understanding his drive and passion, supported him the best way a mother can - driving him to and from hockey practice, to the mountains, basketball courts and soccer fields. But his focus didn't end on the training grounds - Ryan would come home and do hundreds of sit ups and push ups in his room after practice. Tom, his step dad, would walk into his room, hearing Ryan counting and strange noises from upstairs and catch him legs wrapped around his top bunk, suspended in air and doing sit ups, "24, 25, 26, 27..." and start adding in numbers: "8, 16, 4, 7, 23". Ryan would lose track, get upset and then start all over again from the beginning.
In high school, Ryan focused primarily on hockey. He spent the majority of his time in Canada - teaching in Penticton, playing with sharp skates, hurling sticks and reaching his VO2 Max daily. Again, since he was smaller than most, he worked even harder. Bigger, slower opponents could send him flying across the ice but they'd have to catch him first. And often Ryan skated circles around them. He also was the one to start the most fights - losing his front tooth before he had his first tattoo.
By the time Ryan and I met, hockey had run its course in his life. Or at least wasn't the dominant drive it had once been. Hanging out with his friends and partying became important. He took a year off from school after graduating high school. Yet somehow, call it fate or destiny, our circle of friends knew one another and as a result we met. But his drive and passion was shifting.
He enrolled back in school and applied himself to his studies. He excelled at math and computer science. And during that time he discovered rock climbing. Or rather, it discovered him. He became obsessed, as only a lifelong athlete can. But living in the wet Pacific Northwest climate is rough for a burgeoning climber. I remember early one summer, I dropped Ryan off at Josh's house for a two week long road/climbing trip, and he returned transformed. That trip cemented his love for climbing.
By default, I started climbing too. I loved spending time with Ryan, in the outdoors and going places only a handful of people on the planet have been. We spent our honeymoon in Yosemite - the birthplace of American climbing. We traveled to Europe to climb Fontainebleu, Ceuse, the Dolomites, the Bavarian Forest, Chamonix. We road tripped down to Arizona, California, Oregon, Idaho, Colorado, and Utah.
During those road trips, we would swap driving but every time rock came into view, either off the side of the freeway or an obscure place, Ryan would forget he was behind the wheel and marvel at the rock, nearly crashing. And if I was behind the wheel, he would glue his eyes to the window asking me to slow down. What did he see? What was this drive?
It was becoming clear to me that Ryan's love for climbing went beyond normal interests. He was so passionate about rocks - the way they form, the way they feel, the way they climb - that I had to find something I was equally as passionate about. Unfortunately it wasn't hauling myself up granite slabs. Sure, I enjoyed it. Especially multi-pitch adventure routes. But it stopped there. Cycling entered into my life and swept me off my feet.
Even though we were involved in different sports and as a result spent a lot of time apart on the weekends, we both saw the importance of supporting one another in our sports. Not a day went by where he would ask me how my ride was that day, nor I him about the bouldering problem he was tackling. When ever I would ride up to Little Si after work to meet him and his friends at World Wall 1, I would be introduced to people and they would know more about my cycling career then I would. Ryan was so proud of me, and I in turn of him.
I saw and recognized the beauty of following your passion. Of devoting your life toward what drives you. Of being absolutely content because you are following your heart. Ryan's heart yearned to climb upside down. He loved the physical challenge and the mental fortitude required. Any one who knew him saw this about his character immediately.
Every time I see an outcrop of rock (and there are a lot of them here in Colorado Springs), I think of him. I look at the natural climbing lines, its texture and am reminded that following your passion is the only way to live.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Weekend Roundup
I love the feeling of come Monday, you're ready for another weekend to start. Most people recuperate on the weekends, take time to do stuff around the house: projects, cleaning, rest, etc. Not our house. We race our bikes on the weekend and win money! Yay!
Saturday morning we woke up to crappy weather. And by crappy, I mean cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. (My mindset has COMPLETELY changed since living in Seattle. Rather than feeling like I have to get out and exercise in it no matter what, I am now selective. Honestly, there are that many nice days here. I still ask myself, why did I wait this long?!?)
We slowly got out of bed and then frantically packed the car for a double race day. I raced first, starting at 11:35am in South East Denver. The prize list was pretty good - with 3 one hundred dollar primes on the line. Right before the start, Benjamin reminded me that the primes would pay better and my focus was singularly on that bell. The first prime came and I jumped hard. So hard that my rear wheel peeled out. So hard that I had at least five bike lengths on the person behind me. And so hard that when they rang the bell for the second prime on the proceeding lap, I dug deep. Really really deep. And I won another prime. $200!
Unfortunately I tapped into my upper limits, hitting a new max power and unable to recover. It seriously felt like a track effort, I went so hard. Did I need to? No way. I could have razor-ed. I should have razor-ed. But instead I blew my wad going for it. I showed my entire suite of cards. "Look what I can do!" (Dope!)
So when Therese's attack came immediately following the sprint, up the hill, I tapped out. I could only maintain 120 watts. The pack was splintered, Benjamin was on the side of the road giving me "what the?!?! go get those girls!" and I had nothing.
Zip.
Zilch.
Nada.
$200 bones. And a hole dug so deep, I didn't recover until about 3pm that afternoon. The race ended and I finished- last place.
In the meantime, Benjamin, who for the record has been training since his return from Australia and is racing in the Cat 35+ 3's - crushed it. He won the field sprint for second. Bam! Guess what his prize money was? $20 and a gift card.
We waited to sign up for the last race of the day - the men Cat 3's, which started at 5pm. The clouds were hovering, threatening to dump rain but Philly's coming up and pack maneuvering and positioning practice will always come in handy. Plus I convinced Therese to sign up as well. So the three of us played with the boys, moving around, positioning out of the wind, setting up for the sprint. With three to go, I came to the front and kept the pace up. Benjamin set himself up for the final sprint and managed 2nd - AGAIN! Another $20 in prize money.
We woke up Sunday morning, feeling like a train wreck. The weather did in fact move in as we were finishing the last race and we opted out of a cool down so we could get warm and drink beers. But training was in our cards so we headed up to Captain Jack's on the mountain bikes with Joey. And I swear, that ride is my ALL TIME favorite trail. It puts the biggest, cheesiest shit eating grin on my face than anything else. Plus it's free. We actually were rained on - so we rushed home, ate a plateful of nachos and passed out on the couch for 3 hours. A perfect weekend, if you ask me.
Next week: Superior Morgul. A Colorado classic with the same course as the Red Zinger Classic. Bring back the 80's!
Saturday morning we woke up to crappy weather. And by crappy, I mean cloudy with a 30% chance of rain. (My mindset has COMPLETELY changed since living in Seattle. Rather than feeling like I have to get out and exercise in it no matter what, I am now selective. Honestly, there are that many nice days here. I still ask myself, why did I wait this long?!?)
We slowly got out of bed and then frantically packed the car for a double race day. I raced first, starting at 11:35am in South East Denver. The prize list was pretty good - with 3 one hundred dollar primes on the line. Right before the start, Benjamin reminded me that the primes would pay better and my focus was singularly on that bell. The first prime came and I jumped hard. So hard that my rear wheel peeled out. So hard that I had at least five bike lengths on the person behind me. And so hard that when they rang the bell for the second prime on the proceeding lap, I dug deep. Really really deep. And I won another prime. $200!
Unfortunately I tapped into my upper limits, hitting a new max power and unable to recover. It seriously felt like a track effort, I went so hard. Did I need to? No way. I could have razor-ed. I should have razor-ed. But instead I blew my wad going for it. I showed my entire suite of cards. "Look what I can do!" (Dope!)
So when Therese's attack came immediately following the sprint, up the hill, I tapped out. I could only maintain 120 watts. The pack was splintered, Benjamin was on the side of the road giving me "what the?!?! go get those girls!" and I had nothing.
Zip.
Zilch.
Nada.
$200 bones. And a hole dug so deep, I didn't recover until about 3pm that afternoon. The race ended and I finished- last place.
In the meantime, Benjamin, who for the record has been training since his return from Australia and is racing in the Cat 35+ 3's - crushed it. He won the field sprint for second. Bam! Guess what his prize money was? $20 and a gift card.
We waited to sign up for the last race of the day - the men Cat 3's, which started at 5pm. The clouds were hovering, threatening to dump rain but Philly's coming up and pack maneuvering and positioning practice will always come in handy. Plus I convinced Therese to sign up as well. So the three of us played with the boys, moving around, positioning out of the wind, setting up for the sprint. With three to go, I came to the front and kept the pace up. Benjamin set himself up for the final sprint and managed 2nd - AGAIN! Another $20 in prize money.
We woke up Sunday morning, feeling like a train wreck. The weather did in fact move in as we were finishing the last race and we opted out of a cool down so we could get warm and drink beers. But training was in our cards so we headed up to Captain Jack's on the mountain bikes with Joey. And I swear, that ride is my ALL TIME favorite trail. It puts the biggest, cheesiest shit eating grin on my face than anything else. Plus it's free. We actually were rained on - so we rushed home, ate a plateful of nachos and passed out on the couch for 3 hours. A perfect weekend, if you ask me.
Next week: Superior Morgul. A Colorado classic with the same course as the Red Zinger Classic. Bring back the 80's!
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Wednesday Workout
Wednesdays rule. And today is no exception.
Not only did I wake up to picture perfect blue skies (for the 250th day this year), had an awesome talk with my friend Laura, but I also got to do 6! Manitou/Manayunk hill repeats.
Why? Well Liberty Classic is in the beginning of June and has a WALL of a climb on the course that we'll be doing multiple laps on. Thankfully we have a hill that's about the same pitch and nearly the same length. Benjamin has me doing full out efforts on it in preparation. And yes, I curse their difficulty but celebrate their result. And I will be oh so thankful for them come June 3.
(This is looking back down at the climb. At the bottom is a hair pin turn where I start my effort full gas to the top of the hill. It hurts.)
I'll also be thankful for not doing them at altitude on that day. The air is that much thinner up there! But oh my, what an amazing day. And after my sixth set, I was able to stop and soak in the view. Pikes Peak is one beautiful mountain. And that Coco Cola tasted good as a reward.
Not only did I wake up to picture perfect blue skies (for the 250th day this year), had an awesome talk with my friend Laura, but I also got to do 6! Manitou/Manayunk hill repeats.
Why? Well Liberty Classic is in the beginning of June and has a WALL of a climb on the course that we'll be doing multiple laps on. Thankfully we have a hill that's about the same pitch and nearly the same length. Benjamin has me doing full out efforts on it in preparation. And yes, I curse their difficulty but celebrate their result. And I will be oh so thankful for them come June 3.
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
Beedeep, beedeep. Yes, I am human.
It was just one of those days.
I woke up normal. I rode with Benjamin that morning and felt okay. But when I took those first 30 pedal strokes of the mountain bike race in Castle Rock, I knew something was up. My body protested. My mind screamed. And for once, after pushing it for an hour - thinking I would come through it, that it was just the cobwebs from resting all week - I gave in. I allowed myself to stop.
That's right, I quit.
I pulled by the finish line for the second of three laps after passing all of the encouraging bystanders, found an open spot, put my bike down and laid down.
"That's it!?" a girl next to me asked.
My eyes were still closed.
"Yep. I'm done."
And after a few moments in the fetal position, cursing my womanhood, and cursing my competitive streak of wanting to keep going, but knowing better - I rolled up on my side and talked to the voice. Turns out she's brand new to road racing this year and cheering on her hubby who prefers mountain biking. I told her these days are normal every once in a while. That it's normal to have a bad day. That's what makes the good days good.
As Benjamin put it, some days you're the hammer and other days you're the nail (in the coffin).
The next day we had a road race in Deer Creek, a two hour drive from Colorado Springs. Being a new day, I focused on positive imagery and knew that the previous day was a fluke. That I'm only human. And that I have the power to make the most out of the next opportunity. I had five category three teammates toe to the line so the day was focused on mentoring and trying different tactics on the group to see what works and what doesn't. It was a great experience. And as we were setting up for the final few kilometers, I knew something good was going to happen. I had practiced it in my head that morning.
I waited, I was patient and then I sprinted like hell. And guess what happened?
I won. Again.
Some days you are the hammer.
I woke up normal. I rode with Benjamin that morning and felt okay. But when I took those first 30 pedal strokes of the mountain bike race in Castle Rock, I knew something was up. My body protested. My mind screamed. And for once, after pushing it for an hour - thinking I would come through it, that it was just the cobwebs from resting all week - I gave in. I allowed myself to stop.
That's right, I quit.
I pulled by the finish line for the second of three laps after passing all of the encouraging bystanders, found an open spot, put my bike down and laid down.
"That's it!?" a girl next to me asked.
My eyes were still closed.
"Yep. I'm done."
And after a few moments in the fetal position, cursing my womanhood, and cursing my competitive streak of wanting to keep going, but knowing better - I rolled up on my side and talked to the voice. Turns out she's brand new to road racing this year and cheering on her hubby who prefers mountain biking. I told her these days are normal every once in a while. That it's normal to have a bad day. That's what makes the good days good.
As Benjamin put it, some days you're the hammer and other days you're the nail (in the coffin).
The next day we had a road race in Deer Creek, a two hour drive from Colorado Springs. Being a new day, I focused on positive imagery and knew that the previous day was a fluke. That I'm only human. And that I have the power to make the most out of the next opportunity. I had five category three teammates toe to the line so the day was focused on mentoring and trying different tactics on the group to see what works and what doesn't. It was a great experience. And as we were setting up for the final few kilometers, I knew something good was going to happen. I had practiced it in my head that morning.
I waited, I was patient and then I sprinted like hell. And guess what happened?
I won. Again.
Some days you are the hammer.
Friday, May 04, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)