Lining things up

As I prepare to leave town for the month of June, I've been tending to the little details. Setting yourself up for success while on the road, at least for me, has been planning and organizing gear down to the smallest detail. This sport requires a lot of gear and with airport luggage fees not what they used to be - you have to pack light.

Thankfully I had some serious practice this past winter traveling overseas and am packing the same amount of clothing and gear as I did for 3:45 minutes of racing as I will for 3+ weeks on the road. Sad, but true.

With the biggest chore being removing my seat post out of my Felt bike complete, the rest is a cake walk. I've managed to pack 2 bikes in under an hour and am using a suitcase that holds me rollers - fully assembled. I've found that to pack as light as possible lists help a lot and once you've pulled out everything you're taking with you, cut that in half.

Really what more do you need then 2 bikes, 4 wheels, helmet, shoes, computer, iPad, iPod, iNano, iShuffle, enough Nuun and Gu's to sink a ship, jerseys, shorts, business time socks, gloves, knee and arm warmers, pillow, track sack, rollers, chain whip, tubes, patch kit, water bottles, kitchen sink, towel, rubber mallet, pedal wrench, hair dryer, etc.?

With a little more down time (is that possible?) - I should have lots of time to report on my whereabouts and racing.

Next up: Blaine, MN for the Fixed Gear Classic.

Word of the day: Dreamy.

Ballard

Saturday's win was seven years in the making....

2005- First big girl race as a category 3. Going into corner three, Miranda Moon crashes right in front of me and I go down, hard. I get up, brush myself off and am ready to get back in when I discover my handle bars are splintered in two. Lame sauce.

2006 - I get 6th - one spot out of the cash prizes.

2007 - A lingering hamstring injury flares up and I pull myself and get to watch as Karen Claeys gets in a breakaway with Jadine. Annette and Deb have a run in on the final lap and next thing we know we hear sirens.

2008 - In Blaine, Minnesota for a track race. Kept tabs on who won. The Ballard crit truly is the gem of Seattle's bike racing crits.

2009 - Tela wins! Though I'm not there to witness it. Must have been at another track race - San Jose, maybe?

2010 - I get 7th. Figured out that positioning is key in that final lap and if I really want it, I have to make the move on the back straight.

2011 - I dial in nutrition, sleep, make life as simple as possible, train right, keep track of my weight, and be super conscientious about everything I do to become the best bike racer I can be. I envision the race, being surrounded by competitors, feeling the wind on my body, the pavement passing beneath me. I keep my eyes up, focus and am 100% in the moment. This is exactly how it plays out in the race and I execute.

We had six HB ladies toe to the line for Saturday's notorious Ballard Crit. With big crowds and glory on the line - Beth, Julie, Liz, Heidi, Tela and I were ready to race our bikes. At registration I ran into Jadine - last year's winner and found out TGH had 10 women there. We certainly had our work cut out. A pre race discussion confirmed that if Liz or I were in a break, we'd be able to do what it takes. But if anyone else were, chase it down to keep things together and set up for the final sprint. This is exactly how it played out - except yours truly countered after a prime lap and found myself solo and at one point 18 seconds up the road, pedaling hard for 6 or so laps. Having friends yelling encouragement on the corners certainly helped - and I could hear Jill Talcott (GO TRIPPY!!!) loud and clearly and fought hard to stay away.

Eventually I got caught nearing corner three and Liz countered, perfectly. I was in the front and braked through the corners, slowing things up for the pack. But the group was having none of that action. Thankfully for me we had 16 more minutes left in the race so I was able to recover for the final sprint.

Going into the final three laps, I'm positioned well right on our designated HB train. Beth is leading with Tela directly behind her, and I'm on Tela's wheel. All I can think is - perfect! Fight for this wheel, stay in position. Two laps to go - things get shuffled up a bit. Suddenly I find Beth and Tela on the right side going up the home straight, and Liz comes sailing up on my left. I get on Liz's wheel and stay super relaxed. I brake slightly as I get chopped in corner one. I have to re-accelerate and weave through traffic finding myself on the outside. We are flying down the back straight in the final lap. I put in a big surge, and advance four places into 4th or 5th wheel, going into corner three. I pedal, misjudging how fast I'm going, clip a pedal and send sparks but manage to keep it upright. We are exiting corner four, Laura Chang has a HUGE advantage. Things spread out. I see a couple of girls just sit up. I weave through traffic, gaining on Laura. I go to her right side, and am closing in, fast. I have no idea where the finish line is but I'm putting out 900 watts. The shadows are playing tricks on me - I think we've passed the finish line and then I see it - do a last minute bike throw and nab her at the line by a wheel length.

http://www.wheelsinfocus.com/2011/BAL/W123/pages/903C0604jpgbc.htm

A HUGE smile spreads across my face and I get head to toe goosebumps as the adrenaline surges through my body. The feeling of everything coming together - team work, tactics, timing, patience, nutrition, fans cheering, performing and execution - that's why I race bikes.

http://www.wheelsinfocus.com/2011/BAL/W123/pages/903C0608jpgbc.htm

Thanks to all of you who came out and raced on Saturday - it is so much fun to throw down with friends and fierce competitors.

Here's to many more team wins to come!

Yay! Crit season!!!

Wow. Yesterday was a great day.

If I could repeat one day like the "Groundhog Day" movie, that could quite possibly be it.

To sum it up: Lunch with my dear friend Molly, winning a bike race and then a concert with Lenny Kravitz and U2. Wham bam thank you mam'!

I should have bought a lotto ticket.

More to come - the sun is out and I'm making the most of the day. Bike rides with friends, pizza later with family and dog walking calls....

LCD Soundsystem + Muppets = AWESOME.

An Open Invitation

You're invited. Because your idea of vacation includes alpine starts
to take advantage of all 16 hours of daylight. Because your house is
one gigantic gear closet. Because your laundry is filled with sweaty
workout clothes. Because your family thinks you're an exercise
fanatic. Because you ARE an exercise fanatic. Because life is richer
by moving your body through space and time. The method of doing so
matters not - running, cycling, swimming, skiing, surfing, diving,
paragliding, base jumping, climbing, rafting, kayaking - just to name
a few.

I'm looking for you. We must unite. We must surround ourselves with like-minded individuals. We must say no to Double Whoppers. We must say YES to super sized endurance sports. Let's make plans to ride 4 hours straight through the Olympics, summit the North Cascades, backpack the Enchantments and appreciate the hidden jewels of the PNW. So come Monday morning, you can barely keep your eyes open at your 'day' job but smile contently recalling the epic adventures had.

What are YOU doing this weekend? I'm making plans for some adventures - join me.

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of
arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to
skid in broadsided in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally
worn out, and loudly proclaiming "WOW! What a ride!" - Hunter S.
Thompson

Down for the count!

I crashed myself out yesterday.

The roads were slick from rain and a car was coming down the street. I tapped the brakes a little too hard and it sent my bike out from beneath me. I remember thinking, "crap! not my collar bone!" and instead landed hard and fast on my wrists and right side of my body.

I was 1/4 block away from home.

The car that was coming down the hill didn't stop. Thank goodness. They would have seen a girl, pissed off and cursing herself for having slick tires on. A quick body check - bones, ok. Wrists - a little battered but ok. Bike - ok. I contemplated going back in but I still had a training ride to do so back on the bike I went! No rest for the weary.

Fremont bridge went up so I got to check out my throbbing right arm - to reveal a nice little gash. But no chin dive or head ache - so on toward Magnolia hill repeats I went!

Thankfully intervals do wonders for concentrating the pain into the legs and lungs. By the time I got home though I felt like sucking my thumb and calling my mommy. Um, OUCH! Crashing is not recommended.

Wally the weirdo, I mean WONDER dog! He went a little crazy at my cabin this weekend.

Ah, the Methow.

This photo was taken on Highway 20, approaching the hairpin beneath the Liberty Bell group. The North Cascades highway links the west to the east side - and travels through the "American Alps." It is breathtaking and in the warmer summer months a kick ass road ride. With about 3,000 feet of elevation gain from my cabin to the top of Washington pass, I've probably ridden it a dozen times. Alas with no shoulder this weekend, a summit attempt was not in the cards. Instead, Jocelyn and I rode from Winthrop to Loop Loop pass. 8 miles of 6% grade: aligning with my motto - go big or go home.


Allow me to introduce for those who haven't met her yet: Makiah Blue, my trusty companion in life. She is an amazing dog. She's super mellow, especially as she ages. But she's wise and smart - and in this photo reminds me always to look up.

We hiked to the base of Goat Wall and took a few moments to remember Ryan. Makiah's aging - leaping from from boulder to boulder in the scree field took its toll and she was exhausted by the time we reached the base of Prime Rib. We soaked in the view, loved on one another and the best word I could use to describe the feeling: honor.

The spot overlooks upper Methow Valley. The spring greens are showcased below and Lost River winds its way down to join other tributaries on their journey to the mighty Columbia, which empties into the Pacific Ocean. I counted three waterfalls across the valley and Goat Creek raged next to me. It's hard to imagine any where more beautiful.

I felt strength, love, sadness, happiness, calm, and how being there felt so right. Wow. It was nice to take a moment out of life's whirling pace and acknowledge how touched I was by another person, one I was lucky enough to marry.

The rest of the weekend was filled with fat tire single track action on Buck Mountain, Sun Mountain and road riding up to Loop Loop pass with Jocelyn. And connecting with my sister Marcy and Sam cooking smores, hanging out around the camp fire and laughing. Wally the wild dog did his best to scale the trees on my lot - making it about 9 feet off the ground. Makiah and I both passed out each night, bellies full and new memories created.

Mazama holds a very dear place in my heart. And I'm pretty sure Makiah likes it too.

Rest in peace, Suzanne.

My heart and prayers go out to friends and family of Suzanne Allen.

Suzanne and I worked together at REI in the rentals and repair department for three years. She was the first vegan I ever met and left a lasting impression. She will be missed, beyond a doubt.

Reflection

Phew.

Rain showers, narrowly avoided.

Dinner, in the belly.

Dog, licking up my plate.

Legs, throbbing slightly.

Body, thankful I'm sitting down now.

Mind, in a zen like state and reflecting with a smile spreading across my face that today I got to do what I love.

Dog, now laying down next to me.

Eyes, starting to drift closed.

Smile, permanent.

Positive Vibrations

My mom's side of the family is from Hawaii. A smidgen of Chinese/Hawaiian ancestry courses through my blood and even deeper in my mom. Family vacations growing up were spent on the Big Island at Mahaiula - now known as the Kona State Park, just north of the airport. The bay was ideal for fishing, surfing and living off the land.

When my mom grew up, Mahaiula was only accessible by boat. They'd load a month's worth of supplies into the Liki-tiki and navigate through the open ocean currents toward the bay. Family history says my great grandfather acquired the land from a Hawaiian for $1,000. It is the only white sand beach on Big Island that isn't a multi-billion dollar resort.

Anyway, this is where my mom, as well I as, learned to fish. Armed with a bamboo pole, grass sun hat, and small hooks, we both would scramble on the lava rocks and drop our lines in the water. I remember singing to the fish - and bringing back humuhumunukunukuapuaa.

She told me a story this morning that her dad took her, Keoki (my uncle), Denise (my aunt) and Gam (my grandmother) out fishing one day in the Liki-tiki. The waters were somewhat turbulent - enough that Denise and Gam abandoned ship and swam to shore. Keoki and my mom were both using hand lines as they sat over a Muu hole - a fishing hole where a certain type of fish that only has molars to chew on seaweed. As soon as she stuck her line in the water, she would hook a fish. One after another, after another and another. Keoki's line was cold. His bottom lip started to protrude. Her dad was cracking up in the back of the boat. My mom recalled handing over her line to her brother - thinking it was just that line. And of course, that line went cold and her new one was hot.

Flash forward 50 years to the present. Except exchange the warm Hawaiian waters for the cold Queen Charlotte ocean. My mom, up to her old tricks, hooked fish after fish. The men on their guided fishing trip claimed beginners luck. Then they watched in amazement as she hooked a 79 pound halibut, a 34 pound King Salmon, a 30 pound ling cod and then had to start throwing anything under 20 pounds back. She nearly won their fish derby and limited out, bringing home a total of 258 pounds of fish after 3 days of fishing.

When I asked her what she thought it was - she said it must be her positive vibrations and that fish respond to it. That and fishing runs in her blood.

It never ceases to amaze me that a short conversation with a friend can turn your perspective back toward its sunny disposition. Tela's old coach had a one water bottle rule* and honestly, I was nursing that bottle for well over 24 hours. But now it's empty and my physical and mental strength are returning.

Remember the cookie cravings I mentioned? Well, I traded it in for Chocolate Gelato instead. Those cookies will just have to wait until after I'm done crushing. I've got goals to accomplish, pedals to turn and kilojoules to burn. And with each workout an opportunity to get closer to my long term vision, I am carefully monitoring everything I put in my body.

A champion is made a day at a time.

(Thanks Amara for the great photography this weekend.)



*The Water Bottle Rule: If race outcome doesn't go as planned, you have every right to be upset. But you can only be upset for the time it takes to drink one water bottle. After that you chalk it up to experience and don't let it bother you.

Mud Mountain remains my nemesis.

I alone in my office today. And good thing - my body is wrecked and I'm sure my face is puffy and swollen.

I exposed a weakness this weekend. Actually, a big weakness. Luckily, the strength gained from seeing that weakness and pinpointing how to address it will help me become more successful. But the sharp sting of feeling weakness still hurts.

Oh the ups and downs of bike racing. A blessing and a curse. Our little team had many triumphs this weekend - some PR's, some ass whopping and some humble pie. Thank goodness for rest days.

The unexpected

I sensed something was about to happen, yet I didn't know what to expect. I strive to keep my mind open to new experiences - never turning something down out of fear or because I haven't done it before. In fact, I do quite the opposite. I seek out adventure - choosing paths less traveled and welcoming them into my life with open arms.

So when I emailed my friend Cari to find out if she was going to be track racing in Minnesota in a little less than a month and she said no - but was going to focus on the road - I asked more about it. "What races are you doing?"

"Tulsa Tough and Tour of America's Dairyland. You should come!"

I booked a flight within an hour. Suddenly, summer got a lot more fun.

The game plane: Fixed Gear Classic, June 10, 11 and 12. Then 10 days straight of roaming around the land of great cheese and bike racing.

Now all I have to figure out is what to do with Makiah.... any body up for some dog sitting?

My next roller workout won't be the same....

Or maybe you find inspiration by coming up with the wackiest thing you can do on a bike?



Check out that chain ring! MASSIVE!

Where do you find inspiration?

"It was my good fortune to be covering cycling events at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, when Hughes blazed onto the scene with a pair of bronze medals, lighting up the podium with her red hair, quick humour and ebullient smile. Watching her willingly suffer in the time trial, cycling’s so-called ’Race of Truth’ in thick 30 C Georgia heat, it was obvious Hughes was going to be something special.

“I was seeing double,” Hughes told us after the event. “I have a friend who used to say she’d see Elvis when she got in that zone. I think I saw Elvis at the finish line.”

Rozdilsky says the ’96 time trial was classic Clara, a “massive result from wanting it more than anybody else. The mind can do amazing things if you have that super focus. And you just kind of dig, and pour every molecule of your body into that effort — that’s what she did there. That was all guts, that ride.”

Fast forward 15 years. Hughes shares the Canadian Olympic record of six Olympic medals with fellow speedskater Cindy Klassen. Only a fool would bet against Hughes winning a seventh in London."

Read more: http://www.ottawacitizen.com/sports/Queen+speed+still+proving+mettle/4805360/story.html#ixzz1MorkogSk

Practicing impatient patience.

Patience is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one's character can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

vs.

impatience [ɪmˈpeɪʃəns]

n

1. lack of patience; intolerance of or irritability with anything that impedes or delays

2. restless desire for change and excitement

When asked if I was patient, my immediate response was yes, extremely. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how impatient I am. I am eager for change, sometimes to the point of pushing outcomes.

Take bike racing for example. The past year I have been more and more aware of my impatience. I attack in the first few kilometers, wasting valuable energy. I needlessly chase, knowing that "the move" will happen as soon as I relax. And like clockwork, the break that sticks is the one that I am too tapped to do anything about. Gee, I wish I had a little more patience.

But for as often as impatience has done me wrong, it's also provided for some incredible change. So, as much as I value patience, I also appreciate my impatience. The trick will be to master when best to use them.

Unsatisfied with a situation? Let impatience be your guide. Want to win a bike race? Patience, grasshopper. Patience.

Thank you Pandora, for reminding me of this song. Perfect for an early evening BBQ as the sun warms Seattle....

Just around the corner...

A quick glance at the calendar confirms summer is coming quick! And I dislike sounding like a whiny Seattle-ite who constantly complains about the weather... but seriously, I'm still wearing wool socks. And all of the girls I saw walking on Capital Hill yesterday were wearing winter boots.

I digress.....

I'm setting up my summer training plan and lining up drivers for some motor-pacing sessions as well as switching my work schedule around to accommodate middle of the day workouts and it is getting me excited! In my mind track season officially kicks off after Mutual of Enuclaw (MoE) stage race - and that's coming up this weekend. After that I travel east of the Cascade mountains to my rustic cabin to do some mountain biking and soul searching. And that will bring us right into June.

Summer really is just around the corner....

Mastering life.

A friend of mine quit her corporate day job and decided to pursue a career in life coaching. She's a natural at it. Long before she ventured into this arena, I've always valued her insights, suggestions and mentoring. She's one of those friends who you just click with, like being reunited with an "old soul." We've shared some memories - she taught me how to telemark ski over ten years ago and has seen me fight in the ring. Our friendship has gone through a couple of life cycles - and I feel very fortunate to have her as a friend.

So when she announced to the world that she was pursuing a passion of hers - I started having dreams. I envisioned working with her. I dreamed of meeting up at the brewpub in Twisp. My unconsciousness was revealing something - and I chose to heed its whisperings.

Our first introductory session went great. She's not giving me the path to travel down but equipping me with tools to figure out where I want to go, to do what I want to do. After just one short session and another one planned next week, I feel empowered. And I'm realizing that I have some very unique gifts and talents. They've always been there - but it's rewarding to do some reflection and see that your values align with how you live your life.

I am the master of my destiny.

Influence

There's just something about this song that makes me want to get a REALLY loud, bass thumping, ear deafening car stereo. My brother will be happy his influence finally got to me... my windows are tinted and I'm checking out kicker options...



Actually, for that matter - the entire Kraak & Smaak album is good. What are you moving to these days?

Gut check.

My friend Cindy inquired about my old lady bunion yesterday. We both giggled at the photo (see below) and she mentioned I could try adjusting my diet to reduce inflammation.

That little comment sparked a light bulb. Over the years I've monitored my diet for weight loss and sure I've consciously cut out trans fats and high fructose corn syrup but I've never focused on food for its medicinal benefits.

And like some divine intervention - an email popped into my inbox from Precision Nutrition that detailed an "Elimination Diet" to discover food allergies.

Check this out:

For example, food sensitivities/reactions and other gastrointestinal disturbances have been linked to:

• asthma and allergies[1],[2]
• autoimmune disorders[3]
• skin conditions[4]
• arthritis
• atherosclerosis and other cardiovascular diseases[5],[6],[7]
• neurodegenerative diseases such as dementia[8]
• mood disorders
• ADD/ADHD
• narcolepsy
• addiction
• migraines
• kidney problems[9],
• bunions (just kidding, I added that)

Apparently this "diet" takes about a 5 to 6 week commitment. The first four weeks you eat super duper clean - avoiding all dairy, red meats, wheat, certain acidic veggies and fruits, nuts, COFFEE!, and sugars (to name a few). Then you slowly introduce a food back into your diet for a day, go back to clean eating and observe how your body reacts.

So why do it? Well according to this article, "If you think you might be suffering from food intolerance, you might want to try an elimination diet. Food has the power to promote health or create disease, and following an elimination diet can be a rewarding and eye-opening experience.

So, give it a try if you think your gut health needs a check-up. What you give up temporarily in creature comforts you’ll gain in lasting and unequivocal knowledge about your own health and well-being!"

Read more about it here: http://www.precisionnutrition.com/elimination-diet

Paralyzed.

It's surprising that a photograph can sweep you off your feet and leave you deep into the bottomless abyss called grief. An innocent post of Ryan and his Mom evokes big alligator tears and sadness. The simple passage of time seems to have buffered the reaction time to them. But you're still vulnerable to their power - for they instantly transport you to suppressed feelings.

It's not that I intentionally shove grief out of the way. It's just that the once steady tidal waves have become regular wave sets and I've adapted to their methodical presence. Yet every now and then a swell will come out of no-where and knock you off your ass if you're not paying attention.

Thankfully I learned how to swim.

My Gammy

I called my 95 year old grandmother yesterday to wish her a happy mother's day. It was a priceless conversation.

The phone rang about 12 times before she picked up. I imagined her - somewhere in the living room, hearing the phone ring and then the doing what probably felt to her like a 200m dash with her walker to answer it.

She lives in Honolulu up in Nuuanu - and has since she her twenties. I admire her in so many ways - she's adventurous, fun, stubborn and I love her to pieces. I wish I lived closer so I could check up on her - as she's still living on her own. At 95!

After she told me about her various maladies, she asked, as she always does - about the men in my life. And how many babies I have. And where I live. And how even though her body is failing her now she still feels like she did when she was 25. She put a huge smile on my face.

Though her memory is fading, her spirit is strong and reminds me of where I get my joie de vivre.

Man, I am going to live a long, long life. And I can only hope it is as rich as hers.

I had to post something else today so that picture is further down on the page.

Lots of fun stuff happening this weekend: F-1 Turkey, local racing, the Giro d'Italia, and Mother's day. Oh - and not to mention the Windemere Cup, which is part of the start of boating season. Hundreds of boats line the Montlake Cut and get boozy all weekend. It's a good idea to avoid all bridges - especially Ballard, Fremont and Montlake.

And apparently it's Friday and I can't seem to get enough of those talking babies. Thankfully I discovered a translated version.

Paul Bunion

I think I'm going to be sick.

I've been having more and more pain in my foot from a bunion thanks to my grandmother's genetics. It's gotten to the point of shooting pain when I wear shoes with too much flex. Thankfully it's no problem inside my cycling shoes - as their carbon soles don't allow for any movement.

So I looked into it - and started to get grossed out.

Wanna see?
Okay - well maybe it's not THAT bad. But the bottom line - it's starting to become something I can't ignore anymore.

But what really gave me the heebie jeebies was the accompanying surgery photos and what they do to fix it. I'm sorry but seeing someone's open flesh makes me nauseous. I get light headed and shivers run up and down my spine.

Kind of surprised coming from a girl who used to get hit in the head for fun? Don't be. I once bolted out of a dentist office after being numbed up and heard the drill come on. Somethings just wig me out.

Recovery time from surgery if I end up going that route is 6 weeks to 6 months. Sounds like an off season proposition if I can wait that long.

I belong.

My workout started long before I got to the track.

Up and down the stairs to the basement I scrambled - retrieving miscellaneous parts for my track bike. The poor thing has been hanging in my office and collecting dust since December - disassembled from the last trip we took together to Colombia. It took me a better part of an hour to get her up and running and primed for tonight's spin. Handle bars, stem system, seat post, seat, wheels, cogs, track shoes (which I had completely forgot about!) and Smarties. Lots and lots of smarties.

I got a little giddy on the drive over. The nice weather and seeing the mountains put me in a place I haven't been since last September when the regular local season came to a close. I arrived a half hour early, took Makiah for a walk around the park and sat for a few minutes in corner two - soaking it all in. The steady drone of commuters heading home on 520, the high pitched whine of the model airplanes flown across the park, the climber commands being communicated at the outdoor wall and Mt. Rainer poking her head through the spring haze.

And now it begins.

Hello, hello.

My dog and I have been on a steady diet of Greek yogurt this past week. I eat an individual sized serving and she retrieves my empty container out of the recycling, drags it to her dog bed and licks away. It's gotten to the point of just putting the container down on the floor once I've polished all that I'm willing to scoop out with a spoon - saving her the trouble of waiting until I'm out of the room before rummaging through the recyclables.

We definitely have a morning routine established. She whines as soon as she hears me stir, and I dutifully get up and put food in her bowl. As she chows down, I get my spandex on to do my morning spin and by the time I've strapped on my heart rate monitor strap, she's ready to go outside. I let her out, fill up my water bottle, fire up the tele and get my rollers set up. She scratches at the back door, I let her in and she puts herself back to bed thanks to her food coma.

This morning I caught her in her favorite spot - in the hamper on top of my dirty clothes. I couldn't resist catching her in her natural habitat. Next thing I know I'll be picking out yogurt containers out of my dirty laundry.

I have BIG hair this morning.

It's Monday morning. Do you know where your legs are?

If you're lucky and were diligent about proper hydration and nutrition and slept like baby - their steady throb will have disappeared by the morning from yesterday's race.

Oh, Elma. Supposedly the inspiration for Matt Groening's Simpson cartoon. And the locale of our Washington state road race championships. The leg throbbing is the reward from pushing yourself for 66 miles around and around a pair of nuclear silos.

A field of 15 or so category 1/2 women showed up to contest the title, with HB having the largest representation: Jocelyn, Julie, Brook, Liz N. and myself. Both Bikesale and Keller Rohrback had three ladies a piece and then a few singlets - Cucina, Olympic Orthopedic, Athlete's Lounge (out of Portland) and Alison Beall (awesome to see you racing Alison!).

The course favors an all around rider, with a little bit of climbing, descending, flats and head winds. The weather forecast for the day, for once, was sunny and 65 - perfect bike racing weather. Not to mention there was a tailwind on the climb.

Things were going peachy until our first climb up the hill and Liz suffered a mechanical. We found out afterward her front derailed broke off - and she was suddenly on a fixed gear of 53x11. Ouch. (But being the badass that she is - she continued riding the course for three or four more laps.)

Second time up the hill - Brook's chain had a mind of its own and leapt off her bike. Dang, second rider down. Our field advantage vaporized. On the second to last lap, a move finally stuck with each team having a rider in it. Let the knitting begin! Or let me rephrase that, let the knitting begin until Tricia slowly and steadily ripped everyone's legs off on the hill the last time up to separate from the rest of us, riding in for 5th. You know you're in trouble when you stand up and then sit right back down from the searing pain the legs transmit to your brain. I was pretty happy with a top ten (despite our low turnout in numbers) after being in a break, attacking and racing my bike.

Stephanie (KR) won, Jocelyn silver, and Cathy (Cucina) bronze. Well done ladies, well done. Next up: Ravensdale.

Accomplishing what you put your mind to.

Well the weekend is certainly off to a good start. Friday night I met up with Jennie at Bastille in Ballard for happy hour and we polished off some curry mussels and French fries. We chatted for several hours and parted ways - just in time for sushi in Fremont with my sister and her beau Sam. And after consuming roll after tasty roll, we walked across the street and had pie for desert! You can get a pie fix up to 2am on a weekend night - just what the center of the universe needs.

Mmmm, pie.

This morning I was up long before my alarm, ready to head to the gym to get my body fat tested. And since my numbers came in a little lower then expected, I treated myself with a roasted chicken, roasted parsnips, and large salad. I am stoked and a little surprised that I reduced my percentage by four points since my last weigh in. Maybe I'll have more pie tonight?

Jennie poked a little fun at me actually - for wanting to keep track of my body fat and weight. Her reasoning? You are what you are and if by reaching some magic number on the scale you feel more empowered and can suddenly do more, then go for it. But to her it's silly to put such stock in a number. I did have to laugh at myself - and I suppose it's a cross over from boxing and being obsessed with numbers. But hey, I'll go into tomorrows race with a tad more confidence that focusing and working on something can and does produce results. And that you can do whatever you put your mind to.

It's Saturday night and my belly is full and body relaxed after a fun mountain bike session this afternoon with Michelle and Danielle. We hit up the trails at Tokul and I hooped and hollered down the roller coaster ride called Flotron - the best trail in Western Washington. That single track had me grinning from ear to ear and I can not wait to run it again and again. And again.

On tap for tomorrow - Washington state road race championship in Elma, WA (near Olympia). Should be another sweet day on the bike. Oh and it's supposed to be sunny. Double win!

Cookie Monster

You're testing my will power, aren't you Michelle?

Love/Hate Relationships

I have a love/hate relationship with rest weeks.

On Monday, I thought "thank God! I was about to implode!" Both body and mind were tired - from the back to back to back large volume weeks of training. Individually they are completely doable - 20 hours spread over 7 days is easily achievable. But consecutive 20 hour weeks stacked one right after the other adds up. Their cumulative effect is huge - you have to break the body and mind down to make it stronger.

After the first day: "I wish this was a two week long rest week."

After the second day: "Wow - I'm catching up on my sleep!"

After the third day: "I miss my bike."

After the fourth day: "I'm going CRAZY! I need to get my heart rate up! It's sunny out, I want to ride my bike. I HATE the couch!"

Then, and only once you've reached that tipping point, must you take one more day off - completely - before the training resumes.

But if you do it right - and truly rest - this valuable time will pay HUGE dividends later. So quiet down the social calendar, eat good foods, take lots of naps, dive into a book or two, and chill. Your body and mind will thank you and your competition will not.

Eugene, Oregon

When I was a little girl, my dad would organize weekend bike rides. We would start from the house, bombing down Whitten drive's gravel road and out onto Lorraine highway, down past the local Dairy Mart, through the Friendly neighborhood and eventually connect to the Mackenzie river trail. My brother and I had twin BMX bikes - his was black and mine was red, with checkered foam handle bar sleeves and red bar ends. Our knobby tires absorbed potholes, glass and gravel and if we did flat, my dad was there to patch it up.

The thing I remember most is what a sense of adventure those rides provided - for I was often the last one in our pack of three and therefore on what felt like being on my own. Winding our way through the flat streets of Eugene, around Skinners butte and through the rose garden, our biggest challenge on the return, with an enormous mountain to climb.

Those rides fulfilled my sense of wanderlust - of going some where by my own accord, living in the moment and filing it away deep into my memory banks. It was there, next to the river bank, that I first fell in love with the bike. And it was there where I learned to capture and chase those endorphin filled moments of happiness.

(Rest week this week - time for lots of reflection and nostalgia. Lucky you!)

Blind faith

"It's dangerous, because a trainer holds a fighter's mind in his hands. The fighter depends on him for the truth, and if the trainer don't got it, the fighter is going to get hurt."

- A Fighter's Mind by Sam Shepherd

I think back to my first days at Cobra Kai, and the hours upon hours of workouts spent in a gym in Ferndale. Where I learned the foundations of how to box, how to move my feet and punch, hard. How to throw combination punches, block, bob and weave, and build my cardio base. I think back on the relationship I had with Coach James Ferguson - the blind leap of faith I put in his hands and the blind faith he put back in me.

His piercing blue eyes, flattened nose, and boxers gait framed an aging and failing body. Often his back would spasm and he would lean on anything nearby. On a good day, he would hold mitts and we'd rattle off jab, cross, jab, left hook over and over and over. He'd start throwing in a return hit so you got used to protecting yourself. And I swear, you'd learn more in those five minutes with him then hours spent with sparring partners.

Coach would talk about dancing and always moving your feet. And for warm ups we'd often incorporate a free flowing dance with shadow boxing thrown in for good measure. Turns out those little drills would be invaluable when fighting in the ring. Being able to move your feet and move is crucial for survival; if you just stand there, you will get hit. The more you get hit, the more it hurts.

Coach also made up games. Games that would push us and challenge us in outside the box ways. For he knew the importance of becoming a well rounded fighter goes well beyond what happens between the ropes in 20 square feet. One summer we did a training camp down at Boulevard Park, termed "Hell Summer." He would have us swim in Bellingham Bay's frigid water, swim in a water soaked log and then haul it up the beach. People must have thought we were nuts. Then we'd take the log back into the water and dry off and start warming up for focus mitts. We'd run flights of stairs, carrying our sparring partners by piggy back up and then back down. Then we'd time it - competing against one another. He was toughening us up, preparing us for the rigors of going to battle.

And then one time we had a snipe hunt.

The discipline it takes, the motivation to workout day after day, especially when your body is screaming for reprieve and your head is still fuzzy from last night's pop to the chin and your neck has whip lash; it takes a driven person to stick with it. It was there I honed in on how much I loved competing. I loved facing danger right in the face, prepared and completely naive - it scared me down to my core and it made me feel alive.

The "Hell Summer" ribbon of excellence lays right next to my world cup jersey numbers on a mirror covered dresser. It is a big part of the athlete I am today. And its printed words remain my mantra: A champion is made a day at a time.

I wonder what Coach is up to these days. I lost contact with him once I moved down to Seattle ten years ago. Yet some of his lessons still resonate in my head. And for the record, I never got hurt.

Smart moves.

I had the best intention to go out on Saturday night but instead pulled "the bike racer/I'm in training mode/can't get off the couch" card. And my body thanked me for it the next day during my 4+ hour ride, in the rain.

As much as keg stands, gorging on bonbons and cake sound appealing, sometimes you have to listen to your body. There is a delicate balance between pushing your body and recovering, especially as we age. The candle that burns on both ends sadly gets shorter and shorter. And although I don't exercise for usually more than 4 hours a day, it takes at least double that amount of time to bounce back.

A week ago I mentioned how I was adapting to 20 hour training weeks AND maintaining a healthy social calendar by going out with friends every night. Funny - I cracked that same day, hard. Rest means rest - and sometimes a date with a good book is more advantageous than running around.

Dead Baby Bike Challenge...

Oh man, does the sun feel good today.

I write from a blanket in my side yard, with the sun on my back and shorty shorts on in hopes of getting some color baked into my pasty white pigment. I'm sure I'm not the only person who is hoping for a sunburn today.

After this morning's time trial, I can't think of anything better to do then lazily lay in the sun, eating bonbons and napping. Yeah, my yard could use some attention - but those chores can wait. Even Makiah is panting with her long fur coat begging to be shaved.

My neighbors stack of dead baby bikes lay temptingly in the yard next door... as soon as I get my bonbon sugar fix, I might take one out for a stroll. Or at least ride one up the street later for the big birthday bash at the clubhouse. I heard rumor of a keg being tapped - and you know what that means.... time to break out my keg stand appropriate attire. It's all down hill from there. (Back to my house that is.) Bombing down a hill after some liquid courage? Kids, don't try this at home.

Dreams

I often have vivid dreams. They come in batches - sometimes weeks apart. And then I'll have a group of them that leave me thinking about them all the next day. Does it have to do with diet? Was it something spicy I ate last night? I've been known to have some whacked out ones right after a big seafood feast - I wonder what the validity is for that one.

I dreamed I cut my own bangs last night. I pulled out the scissors, started to chop away, realized I needed sharper ones, and then continued hacking. But it didn't stop with my bangs, I got carried away and next thing I knew, I was giving myself a pixie haircut.

But what does it mean? Naturally I turned to the most authoritative resource I know: Herr Google. "Cutting my bangs dream" revealed 5,140,000 results. I chose the first one - a yahoo.com answer and had an AHA! moment.

Cut / Cutting
To dream that you have a cut, suggests that you are being let down or being undermined. If you cut yourself in the dream, you are being your own worst enemy. A dream of cutting something signifies a broken relationship or severed connection.

My own worse enemy, eh? Ain't that the cold hard truth!

Heavy weight.

There's a trainer at my gym, Mike, who I have befriended over the years of pumping iron there. We both attended Western; he is a few years older than I. It took me a while to build up the courage to say hello - as the gym culture is passive and quiet, especially during the non-peak hours. And to be honest, Mike is an intimidating fellow at first - with his guttural noises and loud encouragement with his clients. I often run into him in the Olympic platform area and we have had quite a few exchanges over the years. The ice was broken over box jumps a few years ago - as he is a big fan of plyometrics and he was curious what sport I am training for.

Since returning from my adventures abroad this past winter, I've been putting in some serious hours in the basement of Sound Mind and Body. And I've run into Mike, a lot. He's usually with a client and doing his thing, so we often just say hi as we work.

But earlier this week, we crossed paths while both working out, sans client. We had a heart to heart, which probably doesn't happen every day amongst bar bells, squat racks and bench presses. Between reps, he asked me how I was doing. My immediate response was, I'm great! But the look on his face revealed he wanted to know how things were really going, you know, since losing Ryan.

I took a little longer recovery between my sets and answered him, truthfully, that I was okay. That time, the ultimate healer, is doing its job. And, be as awkward as it may be, I was thankful Mike took the time to ask what a lot of people may be wondering, or are too afraid to say - how are you?

I am doing just fine, thank you.

Mike's funny. He said his response would be to someone asking him the same thing, "there's a big gaping hole in my life. How do you THINK I'm doing?" We laugh, at the seriousness of our conversation and get back to our reps.

Cookies!

I just realized - I haven't baked a single batch of cookies this year. And the scale proves it - weighing in lighter then ever prior to butt-slimming intervals. But my mouth waters and taste buds yearn for Michelle's Snickerdoodles.

I mean seriously. Check these bad boys out.

I can afford a cookie on a three-a-day workout, right? But there are mountains to climb and a stage race looming in the future... maybe after I climb them, I'll reward myself. One month. Cookie free.

I sense a binge coming on.

Doing more while slow cooked.

The human body is amazing. It can survive, regenerate in most instances, and adapt, adapt and then adapt again.

Last week's overwhelming meat and potato workouts are already getting easier. The volume is manageable and I've found a careful balance between crushing my ego pedaling in fast and slow circles, feeding my bottomless pit of a stomach, resting and having fun. The more you do, the more you do. Every night this past week has been spent with different friends, and today is no exception. I'm heading north to Bellingham to meet Josiah James Mather, born earlier this week.

And as much as I like spending time by myself, in a steady state of reflection, it's nice to laugh with your buddies. The added bonus? It gives me more to reflect on.

Some new things are developing in my life that I will share soon enough. Let's just say I feel a summit getting close and am enjoying the journey up the mountain of life.

Broken, I mean buried noses

My nose has been buried between the pages of "A Fighters Mind" by Sam Sheridan for two days now. It provokes a monster inside of me that has been dormant for a long, long time. I've put down the Angry Birds, turned off Pandora and my palms start sweating just thinking about the sounds, smells and sights of the boxing gym.

Oh to be the predator, instead of the prey. A feeling that is hard to describe and if you dare, best experienced.

To go back to something so basic, so brutal, and so beautiful has certainly sparked some nostalgia. Cycling is so much different. The closest event to it is probably the Madison; where strategy, aerobic fitness and throwing down with no reservation come into play round after round.

Yet I'm still drawn to the fight, despite the risks associated and injuries involved. The broken noses, ribs, black eyes, brain injury - is it strange I don't shy away?

Contentness

All my life I've made up words. It must be some mild form of dyslexia - as I often substitute the wrong word or just plain make one up. Take contentness for instance. Sounds legit, right? Wrong. And the grammar police wouldn't have to make much of a case before arresting me.

But good intention is there.

So here's my argument for the word contentness. It's concise. It gets the point across. And instead of saying: "I have a feeling of complete content," you could say: "I'm full of contentness."

Oh boy, that does sound ridiculous. Somebody arrest me, quick.

Speaking of new additions.... the Mather house is expecting Josiah James any minute now! Come on out baby - we're excited to meet you!

Meat and Tatters

It's 9:30pm, and I've been laying in bed for a while now. To say I'm tired is an understatement. This was the first week of what I'll term the meat and potatoes of my workouts. Twenty plus hours of workouts for the week. And three more weeks of it to come.

But I know that hard work put in now, hours spent sweating in just the right zones, pushing just the right weights, training races, group rides, hot yoga and recovering will pay huge dividends later. I've found that if I just concentrate on attacking each effort, each rep, each pedal stroke, each posture, then the huge goals I have in mind are that much closer. Thankfully I am in a position in my life where I can pursue what I love. Other than walking my pooch and working my odd hour job, I have ample time and energy to devote to training. Spoiled? Absolutely. Grateful? You bet. Trade lives with anyone else? Never.

I wouldn't swap this eyes-half-masted feeling for anything. My entire body aches and other than my 5 hour team ride this morning, I didn't do anything today. I take that back: I did mounds of laundry, which was composed primarily of chamois. I also ate what seemed like mounds of food.

But oh what I'd give for a leg and shoulder rub.....

New Additions!

There's a new addition to the family.

And every single fingernail has grease beneath it.

Welcome shiny Mavic Ksyrium Elite wheels, welcome. I plan to ride you for at least 10,000 miles before you need serious attention. Don't worry, we'll go lots of places - fast. I expect nothing less then 1,000 watts from your first sprint. :) And if you play your cards right, we might just travel the world together.

Yeah, I'm a geek. Most girls would be excited about a new pair of shoes. I'm stoked about a set of new training wheels. But they represent freedom and distance - and happiness. What's not to love?

I wonder.

A big sense of needing change overwhelmed me today.

One of those, I have to do something IMMEDIATELY to gain some sort of sanity, some sort of inner peace.

I suppose last night's dream might have had something to do with it. My dream was so vivid and so real it woke me up at 2:15am. I should have written it down right then there: the who, what, when and where. The why? Well that usually reveals itself at a later time.

What I will say is this: it involved an unexpected passing of a younger female presence. I wish I could recall the details - for they are often clues to my dream's meanings. And as wacky as this sounds, for some reason or another my dreams show foresight into what becomes reality. But hours later, I woke up feeling instead a sense of urgency to make sure I'm living a life exactly how I want to be. The time is now.

It leaves me wondering why these feelings cloud my consciousness and why I have these crazy dreams.

I wonder.

I'm setting a deadline for myself: October, 2011.

Ready. Set. GO!

The Flow

I was in bed at 9:30 last night, with full intention of calling it an early night and catching a full 8 hours before my early 5:30 wake up call. Instead, I found myself playing Angry Birds, a game I am fully hooked on -until oh, 11pm. It's not that I wasn't tired, I just couldn't land my boom boom birds in the same pig blowing up sequence and I'll be damned if I was going to settle for anything less then three stars! Die piggy's! (:

Jake, my housemate that lives downstairs, has early mornings on Tuesday and Thursdays. I usually hear him and wake up just enough to glance at the clock, confirming he's not late for work - and then shut them tight and fall right back to sleep as I hear him lock the front door.

But today was different. Today, I headed to hot yoga. The 6am class.

Yep, I'm crazy. Even Makiah thought so when she barely lifted her head sensing I was up way earlier then normal.

It has been down right chilly the past couple of days. Last night it snowed in Bellevue (just east of Seattle). Which makes the 105 degree room and steady sweat that much more appealing. Fortunately it wasn't raining when I left the house at 5:45, so I walked the ten blocks to Bikrams.

Inside, I found warmth, clarity and balance. I let go of any attachments I had to the weather, to any emotional turmoil (thankfully there are none!), to thinking about what has happened or what will, to being up way earlier then normal. For 90 minutes, I consciously focused on the here and now. Bringing the mind back to the breath. I entered the flow.

"The more efficient you are of letting go, the more energy will return," our instructor guided.

Amen, sister. Amen.

Cobain

Cobain

On the morning's news Kurt cobains untimely suicide was mentioned. Seventeen years ago to the day. This afternoon I rode by the house he committed the act- it's along the bike route down to lake washington. The park bench adjacent to the mansion was covered in memorabilia. And fans loitered in the area paying their respects.

I remember that day. I was in high school, fresh to Seattle and mesmerized, along with the nation, by nirvanas music. Hundreds of fans flocked to the park next to his house, mourning the loss of a local grunge legend. Acquaintances from school made the front page of the P.I. with mascara streaming down their teared cheeks. Courtney lost her shit.

Seventeen years. Goes by quick if you forget that the world keeps spinning madly on. Need a reminder? Look up: Smells like teen spirit.....

pffffffffft!

Little pockets of blue sky and sun on the Olympics did wonders for my motivation to get going this morning. Blinds drawn, cuddling with my pooch (who is guilt tripping me by having Kyle and Laura watch her over the weekend) I admit hitting the snooze bar at least once this morning, which rolled into me being late into work later.

This week is all about getting strong. I'm throwing around some heavy boulders and making a lot of grunting noises. Not only do I get to wear muscle shirts and tight shorts, but I also intimidate everybody by blowing out hot air pssssst noises during every rep. Let me tell you - the gym is PACKED in the morning. A total of four people were there this morning.

During my early morning roller spin, I heard the Cascades got 20" of snow yesterday. 20 inches! Temps are way colder than average this time of year - hovering around 43 compared to a normal 55. And this is all anyone can talk about. Amanda was at the front desk of SM&B and told me we may see sun on Friday. My response: that's a week away!

Thankfully the sun continues to poke out through the clouds making the spring colors pop outside my office window along the canal. They should rephrase that saying "March and April showers bring May flowers!"

Feeling loved

I woke up early this morning for no particular reason. Last nights
delicious dinner at zoe's with my family still lingers on my breath.
We tasted it all and then enjoyed Marcy's legendary homemade apple
pie, baked especially for yours truly. There's no doubt what I'll be
having for breakfast.

I personally love birthdays, always have. I like having mine and I
love celebrating friends and family's. What better way to celebrate
one of the true gifts we are given - life - then by eating cake,
opening thoughtful gifts and cards and taking the time to let that
person know they are in your heart? Baking with love certainly
enhances the process.

Last year I decided to share my love of birthdays with 100 of my
friends. Keg stands, bourbon sips (or chugs!), lots of tasty food
(thanks Danielle!), and a band, the Tall Boys played in my living
room. It was a blast. my floors were dirty! (a perfect hangover remedy
though - the elbow grease manual labor burnt off most of the ipa and
bourbon.)

This year is a little more low key but the spirit of celebration is
still there. Even at 5am, a big smile spreads across my face because i
know more then anything, I feel loved. Thank you to all who are in my
life and love to share laughs, snorts, belly aches and silliness. I am
forever grateful for your priceless relationships and look forward to
baking many more three-layered-chocolate-

buttermilk-melt-in-your-mouth
cakes for you.

I think it's a requirement to live in Seattle that one of your favorite colors be gray.

"All of the smaller (but often more taxing) hassles of life resolve the
same way. You are having a family disagreement that goes on for
months. You torture yourself looking for a way out of a problem. You
try things to resolve the issue even though your heart tells you it
wouldn't be happy with such a solution. You don't listen to yourself
and make yourself more miserable. Then one day you're in the shower.
You're not thinking about anything, not even washing. You are in what
we all refer to as auto pilot. And suddenly, out of nowhere, the
answer flashes at you - "big as a billboard." Every cell of you knows
it's the right answer, too. You use it. It works.

Accept this pattern. Learn from it. You will save yourself all kinds
of time and heartache. You will waste fewer days beating yourself up
looking for solutions to problems before the answer are about to give
themselves to you. And perhaps there is a reason for the wait. For in
waiting, we learn.

Life is constantly demanding solutions to one thing or another.
Nevertheless, stay calm, control your urges, and actively wait: Go for
a jog, take a drive, chop wood, listen to music, wash and put away
dishes, sweet a floor - anything you can do to slowly get your mind
off the urgency. If you have to, act as though you have already taken
care of the problem, until you actually do - just to get your mind off
it.

Be attentive. You will be amazed at how easily solutions come.

Waiting isn't easy, but acting when the time isn't right can make us
vulnerable and further our distance from what we are trying to
achieve. We don't have to judge or justify. We can make a conscious
decision to simply act as if all will be fine as we wait for life's
openings to manifest. Our job is to control the urge to strike - until
the target is right, to live attentively, enjoy our lives, and wait
for the right moment. Truth will come."

Taken from "Be Like Water" by Joseph Cardillo.

Wow. It's Monday, again.

And I feel like a weekend warrior, once again. Free time well spent, I think! From kart racing, to the MVA Auction to a long epic group ride to Snohomish and a fun dinner party last night with good friends - this morning's alarm came earlier then expected. I'm not complaining either - it's nice to be this busy!

I had a hard ride on Friday and couldn't muster up enough energy to do much else other than sit on the couch the rest of the evening. Earlier in the week I got an email with a coupon for a free birthday rental at PGP Motorsports so I decided to ping a few people to see if they'd be up for karting the following morning. No body was biting, so I ventured out on my own to PGP Motorsports down at Pacific Raceways for a rental kart racing series. One word: RAD.

3/4 mile track with 14 turns and karts that go up to 40mph? Yes, please. I was the lone lady amongst 8 dudes but had the most fun, I'm sure. $95 for 2.5 hours of racing and grins from ear to ear. And I got third in the novice class! With a trophy to prove it. I can't wait to go back. The ground was wet so we were power sliding and drifting all over the place - I might have spun out a few times and hit a barrier.... but no whip lash like I had from the last time I wet karting. Yehaw!!!

I got home around 12:30 and stunk like lawn mower exhaust so I took a quick shower before heading out to carpool with Mark and Linda Coppa to drive over to the Mercer Island Community Center for the Marymoor Velodrome Association Annual Auction. The night was a huge success and we netted over $23,000 from the amazing generosity of the attendees. One of the best items there, in my opinion, was a Phil "Bilko" Stephens bobble head - complete with audio announcement and all. And I'm happy to say I bid and won that priceless item, which now sits on my mantle next to my third place trophy. The night ran late as I helped mop up the facility and making sure things were tidied up before taking off. I dropped the Coppa's off around 11 or so and then headed home to bed before an early morning group ride with the HB ladies.

Every weekend a select group of ladies head up North to Snohomish and try to shell one another on the ride. Since my fitness is lagging behind these road warriors, I've often turned around 2/3 of the way at the "Church." Every week they give me LOADS of crap for turning around. In fact, they had taken bets on me this week for bailing. And much to their amazement (and to be honest - mine too!) I went the full distance. And found out why I'm never bailing again. The cookies at the Snohomish bakery are SO WORTH every minute of suffering. Since I was new to the scene, no one mentioned that I should only eat half - especially because within 10 minutes of us starting back up again, we'd be climbing out of the valley. That's what I get for bailing out earlier in the year, I suppose! Thankfully the chocolate almond cranberry cookie and coffee powered me the 30 miles back home and stayed down.

I got home and Makiah was begging and pleading for a long walk. I promised her a short one after I got a bite to eat and took a short nap. She sighed, but agreed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. And when I woke up 30 minutes later, my legs had seized up. Well done ladies! Thanks for the beating. I got up, walked Makiah around the block and then headed out for the last venture for the weekend - a cooking night with my chef friend Danielle.

Another friend, Stephanie, offered to host at her apartment downtown in the Diller building on 1st and University, adjacent to the Seattle Art Museum. The building was super old - with the winding stair cases leaning this way and that and the hallways adorned with Steph's roommates ecliptic art. She lead us into her place and I marveled at the art - all from recycled materials. Her roommate, Sam, as it turns out is way into reshaping plastic things. From straws, to keg cups to army soldiers and plastic forks... hundreds, if not thousands of them had heat applied to them and then formed into modern art. Seven of us gathered around Danielle as she showed us Vietnamese dishes, from fresh spring rolls to candy coated coconut pork infusion dishes. She had all of us helping out to learn something new.

And as I took a tour around Steph's apartment, I saw a pair of boxing gloves. Turns out she's been training for her first fight at a down and dirty gym on Capital Hill. I got to relive the glory days for a few minutes and share with her my experiences as a pugilist. That's two ladies I've met within the past two weeks that are into boxing.... is somebody trying to tell me something? Maybe I should get back into that sport?!? Tacoma seemed too daunting of a drive to train... but if there's one in the immediate area.......

Pushing

Today I pushed myself, multiple times. It was 105 in the stifling yoga room, stinky and sweat was dripping steadily off every limb of my body. The instructor verbally walked us through the poses, encouraging, no demanding, that we go beyond our comfort zones, to take a risk. What's the worse thing that could happen? she asked.

And as I held my foot behind me, cocked like a bow and arrow, left knee locked out, left arm reaching toward the mirror in front of me and all my muscles engaged, gaze focused but on nothing in particular, people around me losing their balance and falling out of the pose, yet I kicked, higher and squared my hips, abs as close to parallel to the floor- one more kick up and I did it. I went further than I have ever gone before. But there was no time to focus on that success. For we had several dozen poses left to complete. Plus the sweat stung my eyes making it impossible to pick out my smile from the back of the room.

A smile did spread across my face later, when I was laying down, soaking in the completion of my practice. And then I sat in the locker room, sweating my eye balls out and marveled at how good it feels to know you pushed yourself harder than before. That you gave it everything you could that day, that practice. And that you can do it again, and again.

In a way it reminds me of team pursuit. Your body is screaming at you to stop, yet your mind wills you on to hold on just a little bit longer. Giving up is not an option. If it were easy, everyone would do it. I love pushing my body - it makes me feel alive and am thankful for the opportunity to push those boundaries. And I'll do it again and again until the day I die.

Thirty three?!? What! What?!?

Oh boy, oh boy. Another birthday coming up, another milestone.

I'm feeling old tonight - as I didn't get carded at PCC when I bought a 22 oz. IPA. The big day is next week and as with holidays and special events, I am reminded of the circle of life.

Luckily, in my 32 years on this planet, I know how to make myself happy. Retail therapy happy. It was one of those, don't tell me the total, kind of nights. The pooch and I strolled into Fremont after an emotional day and I earned some miles. Not that I can get a round trip ticket around the world - but I can at least travel in the continental US. Yikes!

Last year I threw myself a huge party - 100 people showed up at my house on a Wednesday night, dressed in hill-billy attire and boogied down to the Tall Boys playing in my living room. Keg stand challenges ensued, yummy BBQ food consumed, bourbone drank and memories made. This year things are going to be more low key. But I am still coming up with a birthday challenge... I'm still formulating the perfect quest. All suggestions will be seriously considered.

MVA Auction!!!

Just a reminder that the Annual MVA Auction is this Saturday, March 26, 2011. Registration will close tomorrow - click here - to reserve your seat!

Funds collected from the auction directly benefit the racing programs, development clinics and junior programs held at Marymoor Park. The MVA is a non-profit, volunteer run organization and needs your help! Bring a friend, family member, trackie enthusiast, non-cyclist, cyclist - ANYONE - who is looking for a good time and can feel good about their contributions going directly into the community.

See you on Saturday!

Rest week

Ah, a rest week. There's no better time then the present to catch up on those neglected home owner obligations. And Spring in the Pacific Northwest demands attention with rapidly growing grass, green moss on my back porch (making it slicker than snot to walk on with cleats!), trees that need some delimbing - just to name a few. If you hear some swearing and muttering coming from Wallingford don't look at me.

And what better way to pay my respects...

An ode to the power washer:

Hooked up to a water supply
Engine primed and gassed up
Relentless pulls on the starter cord
Result in obscene mutterings.

Dressed in overalls, muck boots, gloves and glasses
I'm prepared to go to battle
In the war against moss, pine needles, slug trails and lichen
Maybe I'll win, if just for an afternoon.

The loud drone of a two stroke
And spray from dislodged dirt
Makes me very thankful
I don't do this for work!

Next up? Ode to the curly willow: the messiest tree in the world. Oh the excitement!

Weekend Warrior

It's been a while since I did the weekend warrior thing. You know, when you wake up Monday morning and feel like you need another weekend to recover from your weekend. Time well spent, I think.

On Friday I got a raspy phone call from Liz saying she was on the fence about skiing the next day. She said she would call me in the morning and if I didn't hear from her, then could assume her Subaratti would pick me up at 7am. Saturday morning I awoke to blue skies and had the "I'm going skiing!" jitters. Plus I checked the snow report for Crystal and they got 8" since they closed the lifts the night before. Blue bird in Washington? Totally rare.

We were on the lifts by 9:30, heading straight for the back side and deep powder bowls. The terrain back there is double black diamond, for the most part - so it keeps out the hordes of people. We were two girls telemark skiing - and grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't hear the hoots and hollers from the lift over my giggles - Liz told me about it the next day. She also took some sweet video and all you can hear is me laughing. The more I laugh, the more I tend to crash. It's a vicious cycle. Thankfully she didn't catch my yard sale on camera. Why do you have snow all down your jacket, Jen? I dunno. Somebody was throwing snow balls at me from the lift!

The views from the top of the lifts, at 7,000 feet are stunning. Mt. Rainer, Washington states tallest peak looms in the distance, with only a valley separating us. Days like this only come once in a blue super moon.

We skied for four hours straight. And as the day wore on, the temps rose and created Washington concrete snow. Even my quads of steel were screaming by 1pm. Plus the Snorting Elk was calling our names for lunch.

The next day a long hard ride was on tap. 4.5 hours total - covering May Valley and the quiet farm roads in the area. It was a little windy and provided a great chance to work on my mental strength. Headwinds are good for that. Tailwinds make you feel fast and strong, whereas the opposite make you feel puny and weak. :) I got home around 3:30 and took Makiah on a nice long walk into Fremont to get something for dinner. A perfect way to cap a great weekend.

Dream about Flying

I must be hiding under a rock. I just heard Alexi Murdoch last week and now I'm infatuated with his music.

Those who know me well know about my dreams. And this song just hits home.

March maddness

My mom and I arrived in Bellingham, just in the nick of time. The party started at 7pm, with food being served right at 7:45: Trish's amazing, hearty home cooked Corned Beef and Cabbage, RRRRRrrrrrrrutabagas, carrots, treacle farl bread, onions, and potatoes. I definitely overate. So did Makiah. She was the lone dog at the party, licking plates, begging for scraps, smiling for nuggets of treats. We both had a corned beef hangover this morning.

And the dreams I had? Wacky, wild and weird. And judging by the noises Makiah was just making while she sleeps on my office floor - she's having them too.

There were so many highlights from last night - the food, the company, the pregnant ladies (especially Camille who has an amazing party trick - she can balance a cup on her protruding belly!), the music, singing Big Strong Man, Boundary Bay's IPA on tap poured by head brew master and old friend, Anthony Stone, the gathering of a community. And the moment of silence we took for the people in Japan before the festivities began. Powerful. Meaningful.

I can't forget to mention Tom and Craig jamming out to an audience, not missing a beat as we departed yet acknowledging us as we said goodbye as they continued with their epic guitar riffs. It was definitely worth getting home super late, stuffed to the gills, and then walking to work today.

This morning I noticed the curly willow in my backyard is sprouting bright green leaves. YES! There's no stopping it now.... spring is coming!

I go the the gym three days a week, two hours a session. My routine varies from legs to upper body, and back to legs. Three days: three ways to get stronger. I don't mind putting time in at the gym, I actually look forward to time spent there. I enjoy it even more now that I have a Nano to listen to and hip beats of Girl Talk, Bear Hands, The Black Keys, and various pod casts with trip hop late night beats. It keeps me company as I do the repetitive movements and work.

Today, as I sat on the exercise bike doing my obligatory cool down, I watched a boat push a wake through the water of the canal that connects Lake Union to the sea. As I watched the bubbles of water settle down behind it, I had one of those realizations that I'm enjoying what I'm doing, right here, right now. And that the more time that passes between life's major events, the more I'm getting comfortable in my own skin.

Time is the ultimate healer.

Happy St. Patrick's day to all you Irish folk out there. I'm heading up to Bellingham to go to Trish's annual shindig and sooooo looking forward to her legendary corned beef and cabbage and soda bread. YUM!

August 2012

Do you ever do something just because? You take a step out of the ordinary; leap into oncoming traffic; divert from the norm; push a button that feels like a pivotal point. A moment, that once it passes, has long lasting implications. That instead of talking or thinking about something, you just take action?

Call it impulse. Call it a sense of adventure. Call it crazy.

I just hit the send button, requesting tickets for the 2012 Olympic Games in London. Like life, there are no guarantees. Yet I couldn't resist punching in my credit card information in hopes that I can see history in the making. My thinking? I get to see my friends compete and incorporate a bike tour. And if by some wild card chance I'll be there on different terms - at least my mom will get to watch.

Only 500 or so days to go....

Hi!

Hooo- wee! Things certainly got busy all of a sudden. I'm sneaking a quick break between responsibilities to indulge myself with my favorite blogging past time.

It's funny how life goes in circles. Today I stumbled upon Ryan's friend Fitz Cahall's where about on the Dirtbag Diaries and a big sense of longing to be in the mountains, surrounding myself with the company of old growth trees, big craggy monoliths, calloused hands and simple pleasures. The non-stop rain has put me in a little bit of a frenzy to get out into the nicer weather, out of the city and out of the confines of buildings. Me thinks everybody might be feeling it..... hurry up spring!

The moto is up and running - time to fill my saddle bags and hit the road if only for a day hike. Why are mountain vistas and standing atop the peaks of the earth so attractive? A sign I've been at sea level for too long.....

Funny, I had no intention of starting this entry that way. I meant to touch on how RAD it felt to be racing again. How I love being an aggressor in a race, easily shuffling through the ebbs and flow of the pack, seeing friends, sensing and knowing when someone will attack and easily responding. How sprinting at the end, nearly blacking out from the lack of oxygen to my brain and knowing that I physically gave it everything I had, made me feel so alive, so powerful and so mortal all at the same time. My poor teammates got to hear me spout out how much I LOVE RACING!!!!! How addicting it is, how good it feels to move my body and sprint. It has only been three months since I last raced, think how they must feel?

Well, back to work for me. Just thought I would say hi. HI!

The cold, hard truth.

For the record - my thighs are getting smaller. :( 57.5

It would be easy....

...to skip that last late night workout. The clock neared 9 pm, and thoughts of just heading to bed did cross my mind. But champions are made a day at a time. And I suited up to hit the rollers for the third and final push of the day.

It's crazy the cycles you put your body through to achieve optimal performance. At some point or another, the realization that most people would never workout for 4+ hours a day, ride their bike in the morning, lift weights in the afternoon and then follow it with another ride is mind boggling. And I suppose by most standards, we competitive cyclists are an insane lot. It's almost as if those triple day workouts are completed just so we can say we did them. And judging by the amount of daily commuters I see dressed in Shower Pass jackets, riding to work through the downpour with swaying buddy flats hanging from their permanent rain fenders - they know the addiction too. Or at least they can appreciate as well as wear the badge of honor affixed to their soggy chests from doing something most people wouldn't dream of.

This weekend is all about bikes. A race in Sequim on Saturday, followed by Tricia's Pros and Hoes start of the season kick off dance party and then by Bike Expo on Sunday. It's all about two wheeled adventures and celebrating the people who battle the rain, the wind, the sometimes snow - all in eager anticipation of the warmer days of spring and summer. It can't come soon enough, as far as I'm concerned!

The Art of Riding in the Dark.

Oh jeez. Third and final workout of the day had to be completed in the dark. And let me tell you, with just a grinning Cheshire cat splice of a moon tonight, visibility on the dark, deserted trail was challenging during those over geared power drills. Thankfully, I did them on the Burke, which I have probably ridden 500 or so times. No joke. But the thing that threw me for a loop? The way rascal eyes glow in the dark and how shining my helmet light directly at them makes them stop dead in their tracks - paralyzed by the sudden illumination ridding them of their stealth cloak of darkness. One cat and I locked eyes as I passed, and I had to remind myself that other obstacles could leap out in the dark as well.... yet I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was hypnotic.

I almost finished my book on tape - "The Art of Racing in the Rain" - a sometimes sad and somber novel, based in Seattle. It's written through the eyes of a dog about the cycles of life, and I found myself cheering and tisking my tongue at its passages as the miles speed beneath my tires. Some of the writing is truly beautiful and larger than life messages are revealed via a four legged friend. It was nice to have someone talk me through my late night jaunt, and after a full belly and shower - I'm ready to saw some logs.

This training is starting to take its toll - as I don't have much time, nor energy, to do much else. Thank goodness I painted a bedroom when I had the motivation! Those projects will just have to wait another season. :) And I'm tempted to measure the quads - the pants feel like they're starting to fit a little tighter.....

A good listen....

Coming out of the wood work....

The early spring bulbs emerging out of the ground are a reminder that it's time to start waking up from hibernation. It's time to start making a bigger effort to connect with friends and to strip down to one layer of leggings instead of three on the bike. Next weekend is day light savings - which means longer and longer after work outdoor adventures in the natural sunlight. I'm already concocting an epic summer solstice adventure...

Regretfully, I missed Mason Lake's annual World Championship kick off on Sunday - as the temperatures were comfortable AND dry. But judging by how long of a nap I took after our shortened group ride yesterday, I think I made the right decision. I foresee some pain and suffering in my very near future. Like next weekend.

Up next? Le Tour de Dungeness in Sequim, WA. Why funny you should ask about my early season fitness... it's coming. Slowly. My beach muscles are starting to show off my "There's nothing like a Sausage Party shirt" - which just translates to looking good on the bike, not immediate performance. Oh boy.

So - who has been doing their homework? Who battled out the training through the cold, wet winter months in pursuit of spring glory? Who stayed disciplined and true to the rotation of the pedals while the sane people took to the mountains and went skiing? We shall see, we shall see!

Reports to come!

Chin scratches.

Today was very beautiful. A lazy morning coupled with a nice 2.5 hour ride with friends out to West Seattle in the sunshine and warmer temperatures was just what the doctor ordered. A little bike love and no fenders kept a smile on my face the whole time, despite a rear tire sidewall blow out while screaming down a hill. My mechanic slacked on my rear brake placement and it in turn put a nice little slice in my 4-season, usually bomb proof continentals. Next time I talk to my mechanic I think I'm going to make a point of letting them know that my life and livlihood is in their hands and to be really careful! Oh wait, that's me. Doh!

Luckily a bike shop was just a short click-iti-clack cleat walk downhill. And low and behold we (being Wes, Heidi, Liz and I) discovered one of the cooler bike shops in the area - Aaron's on California. Lots of retro bikes, super nice mechanics and two cats - Presta and Schrader who make the shop very welcoming. I picked up my very own copy of the 2011 Northwest Race Guide, boasting teammate Jennifer Wheeler on the front cover and a nice little write up of yours truly. Thanks Bicycle Paper!

Now I sit, with throbbing legs and a hungry belly waiting for my dinner to finish baking before heading up the hill and catching up with Christine Chang who is in town. Yep, today was a pretty good day. Despite potentially scratching my chinny chin chin on the pavement. :)

Whoa! It's March already! And winter is back? What's up with that?

Believe it or not - things have been busy around the office! With floods, property taxes, year end reports, new tenants, taxes, taxes, and more taxes (have I mentioned how much I love the IRS lately?).... the balance of work to web surfing ratio has been way off. And to be honest, the break from Facebook and other social medias suddenly freed up more time and increased my productivity. I'm thinking I may extend it through the end of the month? That's crazy talk!!!!

I'm totally doing it.

Lots of good stuff in the works for the Marymoor Velodrome Association with our upcoming auction (March 26 - link here), bike expo, biweekly preseason training programs, and delegate meetings. Getting involved behind the scenes to promote other people in enjoying my passion is beyond rewarding. Gotta do something to keep your mind off the weather.

Um, can somebody please turn off the rain faucet, please?