Four.

I keep a separate, private blog, where I put my musings for my upcoming book. But since it's acting up, and well, this blog will become a platform for advertising what's to come - I figured this is an appropriate spot to put down some of my thoughts.

For those who don't really know me or my story - I am 34 years old. My childhood was spent in Eugene, Oregon, teenage years in Seattle, university in Bellingham and then back to Seattle until about a year ago when I moved to Colorado. I had a great life - and adoring husband. We married young at 22 and lived an amazing and fulfilling life. Life was going according to plan until four years ago, to the day Ryan took his last breath.

The following is an excerpt from what may be in the book:

The hike up to the base of Goat Wall left him wiping his brow. The load in his backpack was much lighter this time since he wasn’t burdened with the weight of climbing hardware. He had only brought his climbing harness, shoes, rope and a few carabiners for the rappel descent. Still, the 20-minute steep approach was not for the faint of heart nor out of shape.

Makiah, their 25 pound miniature Australian Shepherd, was panting too.  The big steps he had to take during the scramble up in the talus field were enormous leaps for her. Yet he didn’t need to assist her, she had made it up on her own. He contemplating shaving her – especially since she was miserable in the late season summer heat. But fall was just around the corner and she’d be more than a little humiliated without her signature shaggy coat.

He quickly found his route, Prime Rib a moderate 11 pitch 5.9. He knew exactly where it started since he had researched the climb quite a bit. That morning he had spoken with Brian, the routes originator, and gotten more than enough information on the climb. He was so confident in his choice of climb that day, he left the climbing guide book back at the cabin. He was, after all, an accomplished 5.13 grade climber and a 5.9 was well within his ability, rope or no rope.

He set his backpack down, pulled out his climbing harness, shoes, rope, chalk bag and took a big swig of water. Sitting down on a flat rock, he took off his approach shoes and carefully slipped on his tight climbing shoes.

“You stay here, Makiah.”

He didn’t even bother to tie her up. He didn’t need to. Makiah was well trained and did as she was told. Plus she rarely wandered and always stayed within earshot. He stashed his backpack near the base of the climb and left Makiah with some water. He slung a 70-meter rope over his shoulder, crisscrossing it around his chest and securing it with a series of climber knots so it wouldn’t impede his ascent. He chalked up his hands and with that, he started to climb up the loose adventure route. This was it, one last climb before heading home to Seattle after spending a week in Mazama. One final climb to top a fun filled week full of recreation in the Pacific Northwest.

Makiah watched as her owner started the ascent up Goat Wall and once he was out of sight she dug herself a comfortable spot to wait and keep careful guard over her owners backpack.

She was the last being to see him alive.

-----

She had just completed a successful week of track racing down in San Jose. She was weighed down by her own hardware – two golds and one silver and a best all around rider jersey and trophy. Her successes made her happy and she couldn’t wait to share it in boring detail with her husband.

They had talked the day before for over an hour, enthusiastically sharing with one another their weekly adventures. His involved the wonders of the Pacific Northwest and deciding how best to spend his last day in Mazama. Hers’ involved going in circles at the velodrome as fast as humanly possible.

Both were excited to see one another. Both were missing one another and making plans for the following weekend when they would reunite to finally celebrate their 7th wedding anniversary. They talked of biking in the San Juan’s and ferry schedules were checked.

Before calling it a day, she had one last race, the team sprint with Jane, a friend from Seattle. They placed 4th overall and quickly packed to start the long 16 hour trek back to Seattle.

She felt part excitement, part fear. So much lay ahead of her and she had a strong sense that things after Nationals wouldn’t be the same. But she had no idea to what extent that would be true.

The drive from San Jose to Seattle was long. Certainly doable in one long stretch but since Guy was unwilling to share the drive burden, she insisted they stop and stay the night with her brother and family in Brownsville, Oregon.

They left San Jose around noon and it was around 100 degrees. A quick stop for a burrito along the drive had them speeding along the highway and passing through Redding, California around sunset. They passed by a large forest fire, washing the sky in pinks, reds and greys. She had a strange feeling but ignored it. She had lots of excitement from the previous week to recall and quickly put that funny feeling to rest.

The stop at her brother’s house was full of commotion. Coleman, her nephew, demands full attention and consumed her thoughts of worry. By bedtime, she was tired from the day’s event and was concerned she hadn’t heard from Ryan. He always called.

Always.

The next morning, the whole family and Guy headed to the local breakfast spot and ate together before she and Guy departed for the final 5 hours to Seattle. Once on the Interstate, she started to panic and called the office to find out if Ryan had showed up. No one had seen or heard from him.

Panic set in.

Oddly, exactly a month prior, Ryan told Jennifer what to do in the unlikely event of an emergency. He was climbing with his friend Fitz and told her if she didn’t hear from them by a certain time to call the sheriff’s department and search and rescue.

She called the Okonogan County Sheriff department and reported Ryan missing. She reported his last known where about was in the cabin in Mazama, potentially headed out on a mountain bike ride. By strange coincidence she had the VW Golf license registration paperwork with her so she was able to describe the vehicle with 100% accuracy.

The drive between Brownsville and Seattle took about 5 hours. Time came to a standstill. For once she and Guy didn’t have anything to say to one another.

They arrived in Seattle around noon. She had already called her mother and told her something bad might be happening. There were so many unanswered questions in those first few hours, such a whirlwind of emotion, of hope, of loss, of trying to make sense of a senseless world.

Recalling her conversation with Ryan two days before, he had mentioned going on a mountain bike ride of some sort. She hoped and prayed she’d be able to find him with a broken leg or something on a trail out in the middle of the national forest.

Her neighbor, Jo, saw the commotion going on next door and popped over to say hello. She told Jo that Ryan was missing and last seen in the Methow Valley. Jo reassured her everything would be all right. They’d gather some survival items to create a real search party for him: flashlights, First Aid Kit, a climbing rope and an emergency blanket – all hopeful items for a rescue.

Mazama is a three and a half hour drive from Seattle. Her mother Caprice, Guy and Jo all headed to the grocery store together to pick up some food to go. That’s when she got the call.

The Okanogan County Sheriff’s deputy told her to go the local precinct. Unsure of what was happening, but letting that initial lump in the back of her throat build, she went. It all seemed like a dream.

The precinct was by North Seattle Community College, a 15 minute drive away.  No sort of assuring could deny the feeling of utter despair building in her gut. Time was starting to disappear. Moments between actions were completely lost.

They walked in together, Guy, Jennifer, Caprice and Jo and explained to the police officer sitting at the front desk that he needed to call the Okanogan sheriff’s office. He did so, and while he was talking with the deputy over the phone, his tone grew somber. Those moments didn’t disappear. Those seconds between what the officer was being told and what he was about to say came to a stand still. She wanted that moment to freeze, didn’t want to hear what she already knew was going to be told to her.

“I’m sorry, miss. Your husband is dead.”

-----


My knees gave out from underneath me. I sank to the floor, unable to breath, unable to register what devastating news was just relayed but also known. The room started spinning. The officer came out from behind his desk enclosure and offered a hug, giving his condolences, passing along bad news, something that he has to do on a daily basis, part of his job description. I wondered how many other new widows he had to relay this kind of news to. I knew exactly how Emily felt. How the world was ripped out from under her, how everything she knew was gone in an instant. It didn’t make what I was experiencing any easier, but at the same time I felt like I had been here before. That I was in some way prepared for what was happening.

Guy said he was willing to drive us onto the Methow, as that seemed the next logical step. I felt a strong urge to be there – to feel his presence, to find my dog. I remember my mom and Guy talking on the way there but I have no idea what they said. I just stared, numbly, out the window as the trees zoomed by.
The views of the Liberty Bell group took my breath away, but this time for a different reason. I could feel Ryan everywhere. His presence was certainly with me – angry and whirling about. Similar to our living relationship, I was always the calm one. I could take whatever life would throw at us and make sense of it. Ryan, on the other hand, would get upset at things. I felt his anger then, and I knew his accident was an accident, not something he would do intentionally.

We spent that first night at the Methow Country Inn. Normally they don’t allow dogs, but we were able to get Makiah to stay given the emergency circumstances. When I first saw her, she was scared. I don’t think it registered that she was with me, only that she was finally safe. My mom booked us a room with a queen bed, the only one available and we tried to sleep that first night. My mind wouldn’t shut off, I was in complete and utter shock. I cried and cried and cried, asking Makiah what had happened. What she had seen. I had so many unanswered questions.

Over the next couple of days, the puzzle pieces became clearer. On Sunday, September 7, Ryan had gone free solo climbing up a route called Prime Rib. He had left Makiah at the base, unleashed and started up the route. Sometime during the day, another climbing party had set out to do the same route and noticed a backpack and little dog, unleashed, but no sign of a hiker or climber. They started the climb and noticed a plate sized bloodstain on the rock about 4 pitches up. During the ascent and descent they didn’t see anyone else there and thought it was odd.  That night they headed back to their lodging 40 miles down valley. They both felt uneasy about the situation and decided the following day to head back up valley to see if the little dog, back pack and red Golf were still parked at Goat Wall.

At the same time, our neighbor Anne had a house sitter named Kevin that we had befriended on previous trips to the Methow. He was of similar age to Ryan and I and easy going. He had noticed the red Golf parked on the side of the road overnight and thought it odd. He got off his morning shift and stopped at the same time the climbing party convened.

That’s about the same time the deputy rolled up on the scene. She asked the three men what they were doing there and noticed a little dog, unleashed, wandering back and forth between the road and the trail head. Makiah was frantic.

When the deputy mentioned to the climbing party and Kevin that a person was reported missing and she was waiting for Search and Rescue to show up to begin their search, the three men asked if they could start the search. She advised them that the area was on public land and she could not advise them to search but they could look on their own accord.

It took about twenty minutes before they found him. Makiah helped lead the way, running ahead on the path, herding them toward Ryan’s last resting spot.

Once Search and Rescue showed up, the deputy informed them it was a recovery. Ryan had sustained massive internal injuries from his fall, which appeared to be from 600 feet off the ground. It remains unknown if he died on impact or sometime during his fall. It also remains a mystery the cause of his fall – if loose rock was the culprit, a swooping bird or if he simply got off route. The fatal scene was recorded, photographed, described and several hours later, the deputy got back into cell reception range. That’s when I got the call and when my life changed, forever.

Book Signing

People, even strangers, are in your life for a reason.

Today's encounter was no exception. I received a phone call from a guy at work who said he was ready to book our venue. He had a date in mind, which was already booked, so he did a Thursday instead. He said he would stop by within an hour to meet with me and do this.

I admired his resolve, but thought to myself - let's see if he shows up. A lot of people talk the talk...

He showed up within the hour. We discussed his event. He expects 100 people and is doing an e-book signing. After 20+ years of living with severe health problems, he's figured out how to heal himself internally by action and through faith. (Remember? This IS Colorado Springs, aka Focus on the Family, etc.)

His enthusaism was infectious. I told him I was writing a book as well. He asked how many hours I have put into m it - and I commented - all my life. Well, I've put in about 500 hours, he said. And now it's becoming a reality. He's having a signing and invited about 100 people to celebrate his success.

I am stoked for the guy, really. Seeing someone pursue their passion with gusto, leaving their day time corporate job to do something he really enjoys is just testament that I'm doing the right thing myself. And that I am confident I can do the same thing!

Just watch - I'm going to have a book signing as well to celebrate and commemorate a big achievement. 

A little stage race and a BIG ALPINE SLIDE.

My mind has been conscious of approaching anniversary dates. In fact, I'm pretty sure my recent blue lens color was due to that very reason. Couple that with my decision to take action and put the cabin on the market, and well if tears didn't wet my pillow, I'd start questioning if I was human.

Interestingly, the last portion of August seemed the hardest this year. My year of firsts has long come and gone - and now I'm dealing with memories. The last time I saw him, the last time we talked, the last time I told him I loved him, and he in turn told me. The dark cloud of grief is impossible at times to ward off. But I know time will take care of that. Time will ease me back into sunshine.

Early September brings up lots of transition, lots of memories and recognition of my past life. It signals the end of the summer and the transition into fall and winter. Escaping to Steamboat Springs to compete in a stage race helped. It kept my mind off of the memories and instead demanded my attention in the here and now. A place that I'd honestly much rather be. A place that I appreciate everyday. A place that I've found to be where doors open up, both inward and outwardly.

So when the opportunity came to ride a rickety alpine slide - I jumped at the chance. I got excited like a little kid. And Cari thankfully obliged my desire. There's something thrilling about zooming downhill, bordering being out of control, while doing something new and different. I talked about it all day. Even before our 7:47 am road race start. And after our finish. And after we did a little sidewalk sale shopping... "want to hang out in a coffee shop?"

No. I want to go on the ALPINE SLIDE!!!!

Two grown women, no kids and an alpine slide.

We rode the super slow chair lift up 2,500 feet to the start of the slide. Its slow procession calmed my excitement. "Why aren't these people screaming and having fun?"

I started to absorb the sliders somber attitude toward going downhill. That is until we got to the top. We had to wait in line for about 10 minutes as families with small children slowly went down the mountain. My excitement was building as well as my strategy of no brakes. I wanted to give the little girl in front of me ample time to go down - because I knew I would catch her. She was maybe 8 and said she had done the slide before.


The slide monitor told us: "You can go."

I pretty much screamed to whole way down. No brakes, lots of turns and the risk of flying off the track. It was so much fun! And as I came screaming around one of the last corners - there was the little girl. Stopped in mid-track. I had plenty of time to brake and avoided her but as it turns out, I scared the piss out of her. Literally. Her mom waited down at the bottom said, "why is your sled wet?" Yep, the poor little girl wet her pants.

I'm not sure if I caused the release - but I'm pretty sure my screaming didn't help the situation. It just goes to show, I suppose, that sometimes I scare the piss out of people.

This moment in time.

About a year ago, I had an amazing conversation with my friend Laura. We were working on visualization exercises and she lead me through a series of exercises where I eventually met my future self, 50 years young, and got to ask her questions.

Think about it - if you could meet your future self, what questions would you ask yourself? Am I doing the right thing? When will I make money? Fame? Fortune? Etc., etc.

Encountering this older self, all I could do was smile. And myself smiled back at me. Rather than ask myself questions, I felt this overwhelming and strong presence: strength, wisdom, beauty, integrity, honesty and love. I admired her/me. Asking those questions didn't make any sense. Because I knew just by seeing the reflection of my older self that I am living in the here and now and doing EXACTLY what I should be doing. Her smile knew, and it transferred to me.

Even with life's uncertainties, job questions, love, potential tragedies, huge successes - in that moment, and in this moment in time, I'm okay with not knowing the answers to those questions. I trust myself and the process of life and know that my life will be rich and full of love and laughter. What more could you ask for?

Blissfully Being

I've said this before, and I'll say it again. You know it was a good weekend when you need a weekend after your weekend. Wow!

The action actually started early last week. Benjamin headed out to Crested Butte on Tuesday night to follow the Pro Cycling Challenge. If you live under a rock or worse - don't follow cycling! - it's one of the biggest stage races in the good old US of A. Lots of climbing at altitude, pro tour riders, lots of fans and a circus like atmosphere all equating to a good time. Unfortunately I had to work but got to take part of the action as the race rolled through Colorado Springs on Friday. There was a little crit before hand and Katie Compton crushed us - rolling away from the field 3 minutes in. I hit my top end in those 3 minutes, something I haven't done in about a month due to travel and lack of racing. Ouchie.

But I still managed to hone the field sprint, despite having a rear flat with three laps to go. I cautiously took each corner, one eye closed and said a little prayer each time. Apparently somebody was listening and I finished 'er off. Good times.

A few hours later, Benjamin, Moonli, Makiah and I packed up the car and headed up into the mountains. We took our mountain bikes and had a blast. Not to mention a little r&r, some good eats, some beers and some over priced Beaver Creek gelato. We even stopped in South Park. Yes, THE South Park. And ate at Dorothy's Tamales. Bison tamales and bowling - a perfect way to spend Friday night. I actually rolled 4 strikes in a row. FOUR! Benjamin just shook his head in disbelief or disgust, I'm not sure which.

We both needed time away from routine - a celebration of the past several months being over and just being together. Have I mentioned the word bliss yet? Because I'm pretty sure I screamed it as we descended for 30 minutes off of Meadow Mountain out of Minturn.

But the weekend didn't stop there.... on Monday morning we boarded a flight to Chicago for an overnight with friends Greg and Lisa. They drove down from South Bend, IN and we partied. Hard. Ouchie. Thankfully we started early and were in bed by 9pm that night, making the early wake up call to catch the CTA train back to O'Hare bearable.  Benjamin continued onto Geneva for the rest of the week and I got to check in with some brides back in COS.

Next up? Steamboat Springs for the last local Colorado stage race of the 2012 season. Higgins and I get to giggle together.... yahoo! I love living here.

A bird, a confrontation and a hug.

I was just riding along, minding my business in Garden of the Gods' Park, when my bike decided it was having none of that and bit me. Chomp!

Maybe it had something to do with my tall boy black socks?

Or maybe it was from attempting to teach myself some cross skills in as little time as possible?

Or maybe, truthfully, it was learning the hard way why you never dismount on the right side of your bike. Chain rings bite!

I know, I know. I shouldn't be sharing that I got a puncture wound on my left leg, which is normally no where near the drive train. But yesterday was special. (Or rather - I'm special.)

Fast forward 45 minutes.....

I swung by King Soopers (Colorado Springs' version of QFC) on my way home to pick something up and as I was leaving the parking lot, I might have cut an oncoming car off. Actually, come to think of it, I thought I had left him plenty of room. But as this guy rolled by in his Kia SUV, I saw him give me the bird. He speed up to a red light so I pulled up next to him and knocked on his window.

"Excuse me, but why did you flip me off?"

He gave me the deer in the headlights look.

"Flipping you off? Oh no! I was trying to figure out the wind whistle from my window gasket!"

We both giggled. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it - pretty much a KIA SUV hug - and I told him to have a nice day. Then I chuckled all the way home.

What color are your lenses?

Four hours. Four years. Four minutes. Four decades. Forever and a day.

I'm blue today. We're all allowed to be blue every once in a while, no? And most days, most hours, minutes, decades and years - my cup brims over with happiness. I have a lot to be thankful for. No, scratch that. I have a gazillion things to be thankful for! And I am.

But sometimes, every once in a while, my lenses have a blue tint.

Track vs. Cross, that is the question!

For those wondering out there - yes, I'm still riding. But my season focus has taken on a new twist. I got back from 10 days in London and had to make an immediate decision: to go to elite track nationals or not. And while I'd love to go for the 7th time, since seven times is a charm, I decided against it. Fear not! For the first time since I started racing, I'm going to give cyclo-cross a whirl.

Usually by the time track is over, I'm burnt out on racing anymore and take all of October off the bike. But this year, since I've had so many amazing opportunities and travel to Australia, Spain and London - well, it's time to mix it up. Time to keep some intensity rolling into the winter months. Time to freeze my ass off and go for it with gusto in under 60 minute increments. Guess what else that means? More 29er action in the world class mountain biking trails about 10 minutes from my house.

Take today for instance - clear beautiful blue skies, temps in the low 80s and only a handful of people on the trails enjoying Buckhorn and Captain Jacks. My grin was ear to ear as I crushed downhill (err, well, crushing downhill for me!) and I only nearly ate it once on loose gravel. It didn't take me long to figure out riding on the banked berm not only made my grin grow but the stability much better. I often wonder when I'm in that moment, in pure absolute joy, if someone else can feel it. You know that YAHOO BUDDY! feeling you had today? Yep, we channeled one another. Thanks!

Big, amazing prospects are on the horizon. But more on that later. I've got Benjamin's world famous oatmeal chocolate chip cranberry cookies to consume. YUM!

Paying attention

It sure feels like this is the year of the fire. Not that it isn't always around. But with recent proximity of fires and how close they are hitting home, it's hard to ignore its presence. Not only was the Colorado Spring fire close, but yesterday an arsonist destroyed a good portion of my dad's dealership in Eugene. Buildings can be replaced, people cannot and thankfully no one was hurt, but the memorabilia lost is non-replaceable. 

 Earlier this year, when the COS fire came so close to our home, I started to ponder what is it about fire that intrigues me. Although devastating by what it can engulf, it also has a strange beauty of renewal. A strong reminder of the circle of life and that nothing in this world is permanent. What can we learn from its beauty? Can we detach ourselves completely from material things? Do you focus on what's gone or do you look at it as a fresh start, a clean slate, or a blank canvas?

It got me thinking about the other major fires in my lifetime: the Bellingham Pipeline explosion, 9/11, driving back from California in September 2008, and Colorado Springs. Every single incident, I was out of town. Coincidence? To that, I can't be sure. So I started looking deeper, trying to find a link...

I mentioned these occurrences to a fire fighting friend of mine and he suggested I look into dungeon and dragons. Seriously. But it was there, in his D&D books that he came across the elements and astrology signs. Maybe there's a connection there? Curious, I looked into Aries, which as it turns out is a fire sign. Mr. Google turned up some interesting results about fire sign characteristics...

"Those with planets in fire signs have a simmering at-the-ready stance, as they hunt for things that light them up. They're prone to sudden illuminating flashes of insight and bursts of enthusiasm. Like fire itself, they can flare up when inspired, making them seem very passionate about life. They like to live large, and often feel frustrated by mundane chores and duties.

Fire signs are known to be intuitive, and to rely on gut-level instincts. Going on faith in their inner guidance gets them far, but they have a tendency to skip crucial steps, or to be unaware of the emotional impact of their actions."

Hmmm.... okay. But how does that relate to the fires? 

"When the fire element is present, there's a warm radiance, a trust in life's journey and a willingness to take risks. Any party or celebration is made better with the presence of a fully-charged up fire sign. They're great catalysts for play, and liable to unearth the spontaneous side of those around them. Because they sense a golden thread of destiny and potential running through their own lives, they have a knack for leading others to theirs.

Fire signs act on instinct or "sixth sense," and that makes them look reckless to more cautious types. They're actually following a powerful intuition that keeps them at the leading edge of fresh experiences.

Fire is infused with the divine spark, and this can spread like wildfire to everyone around them. They've got a lust for life that is enviable. Those that are weighted down might try to toss a wet blanket on their enthusiasm, so Fire must vigilantly guard its beacon. It's important for them to have cheerleaders to fan the flames of their interests.

But Fire that thinks only of itself learns the wisdom of the other elements the hard way. They'll keep coming up against resistance, until there is willingness to see there are no short cuts. Each of the other elements has something to offer, and in return, Fire gives off a glow that is as nourishing as the rays of the Sun."

Food for thought. 

A Four Year Journey.

If you would have told me four years ago I'd be where I am now in my life, I wouldn't believe it. Mainly because four years ago, I remember thinking to myself that life couldn't possibly get any better. That I was living the life of my own choosing, racing my bike, in an amazing relationship and living life to the fullest. Ryan and I had the relationship most people dream of - respect, honesty, humor, and passion.

And then the worse possible thing that could happen did. Ryan died in a tragic climbing accident.

Shock, disbelief, sadness, anger. My identity was gone. I didn't know who I was on my own. I started a journey with no clear rules, no direction. Riddled with pain and loss, I had to figure out who I was, on my own.

It never crossed my mind that I would love again. Or that I could be loved again in that way. I experienced some serious lows. There were days when I cried straight through. Days where I didn't want to leave my house. Days I questioned the meaning of life. And months of big hippo tears and sadness. Outwardly I appeared to be holding it together. Inwardly I was crushed.

I spent days searching for some sort of relief. Someway to make time whiz by. I started taking bigger risks, wondering why I was left behind to endure the pain and gut wrenching experience of healing. But I knew the minute I asked that of myself, that there was a reason I was the one left behind. Why I was the one experiencing great loss.

I want to share my story so others who are feeling pain know that there is hope. That life can get better then you can imagine. And there's so much beauty to have known love, true love, than to not know it at all.

Time slowly passed. The year of firsts extremely difficult. Conversations had, relationships nurtured, other lost - all experienced while I was head to toe numb. It took a while to defrost from the deep freeze of grief. I had to feel those lows, to feel hollow and dreadful. Slowly but surely, I started healing. I started to see buds of a new understanding coming to life. They were fleeting at first, but gave me such hope.

And then I stumbled upon the greatest gift of all. The gift of living in the now. The one that values and concentrates on the present. The past is done, the future unknown. All we really have is the now. Good things started happening. Really, really good things. I started laughing more, I started seeing more beauty and love. My heart and soul opened up ready for anything the universe might throw my way.

I started traveling the world, quit biting my fingernails, and met Benjamin. All of those things, all of those adventures and experiences started a momentum in my life. That just when something wonderful would happen, things that I thought were only dreams started to come true, more dreams started to come true. I no longer questioned why things were happening, but I embraced them. I appreciated them and lived them. And more doors started opening. If your heart is open, truly open, anything and everything is possible.

This September marks four years since Ryan's death. And it feels like it's been a lifetime since then. To have gained so much strength, wisdom and knowledge of who I am and how to live has been the biggest gift of all. Thank you time, for showing me that your slow passage does heal all and that living in each moment is the ultimate gift. And thank you Ryan for showing me love and bringing Benjamin into my life.

The life of your dreams...

What if I told you that you could win the lottery? That you could live the life of your dreams? That the way to create the life of your dreams is to simply dream it first?

 Dreams do come true.

Since really taking to heart my mantra of being the master of your own destiny, things have fallen into place. And the more I think about all of the wonderful things in my life, the more I realize that it's the universe bouncing back positive vibrations right at me. Sounds hookey, right?

But it's true.

Need examples? I've got a lifetime full. Moving to Colorado, writing full time, getting a job that is flexible about my time off to race and travel, having a fulfilling and amazing love, surrounded by sweet puppies and feeling so full, so happy each and every day that I wish I could bottle this feeling up and give it to everyone I know.

Two Friday's ago, with a little nudge from a coworker, I booked a last minute ticket to the London XXX Olympic Games to surprise Benjamin. I didn't have a place to stay, or tickets to the velodrome, or a sure way to meet up with him. But at the last minute, I connected with Lauren's husband Mike and had a place to stay as well as tickets. And I even surprised Benjamin! Originally he was going to meet Mike to hand off some helmet decals and I rode down the escalator as they were talking and had an old West Virgina hat from Benjamin's road racing team. Mike mentioned he kept seeing someone in a hat from his old team and he turned around saying, "I probably know them!" He looked right by me, not expecting me there. And once he realized it was me the look of shock and relief was priceless. To be there, to show him my support in person for such a big moment in his life, was amazing. Those are the moments that stick with you through the years, that freeze in your memory and embed in your soul.

I've learned, with increasing frequency, that the bigger the dreams, the bigger the outcome. Taking risks, being adventurous, living life with gusto is challenging at first to make the commitment to, but once you do... your wildest dreams do come true.

 Dare to dream. Dare to live.

Life love.

Is it possible to fall in love with your life? To feel so at peace and at one with what you've been doing that you can't believe your lucky stars? Well I am and in so many ways. It deepens the more I experience things, the memories gathered and preferences I gain The more living I do, the more alive I feel. Nothing feels like a permanent obstacle; everything is a learning experience. Stories from London to follow... first I must ride!

A love story, a triumph, a time of celebration. Life is amazing. The highs, the lows, the peaks and valleys. Living in the moment and enjoying the now is the best gift you can give yourself. And sharing that with others is spectacular. I feel very, very rich and fulfilled and a part of the grand scheme of the universe. And I am so very, very proud of Benjamin.

Going for the GOLD

I've known for quite some time the fact that Benjamin was coming to the Olympics with the USA women team pursuit squad to compete in London. He's been traveling a lot to ensure the success of this team, with roughly 260 days of travel in the past year. And yet for some reason, I thought I would be okay with not coming to the games. That I would be okay watching it from the couch. That I would be okay with following the same routine so we could vacation to Mexico instead.

That all changed on Friday. I bought a ticket for only a little bit higher than the listed price, am sleeping on the floor in an apartment and just secured tickets to watch my baby perform with the girls. How could I miss it?

Tomorrow is showtime. It's the day we've all been waiting for for days, months, years, decades. It's time for the team to show the world that they are world class competitors. That they have dedicated their lives toward this common goal and that they have come prepared. I am so proud of them and especially of Benjamin. The Olympic movement really is special. And I feel really blessed to be a small part of it.

Romantic at heart

Life should be lived without regrets. Chances and risks are meant to be taken, they are meant to be explored and experienced with gusto. Outcomes shouldn't be weighted, as it's the journey to them that matters most. And having a big fat smile on your face while you soak it all in enhances the joy of living your dreams and makes it that much sweeter. I took a risk. I bought a ticket to london two days ago. I couldn't miss seeing Benjamin's hard work come to fruition. When someone means the world to you, moving heaven and earth to be with them seems trivial. Or at least boarding a transatlantic flight. No tickets? No problem. Something will work... He was surprised and had no idea I would show up. And the look on his face was priceless, priceless.

Inspiration: pass it on!

Inspiration comes in many forms: a landscape, a photograph, a poem, a book, a smile, a notion, a feeling, a hunch, little things, big things, ideas, thoughts, pretty much anything. It also comes in the form of people. And when you connect two people in the right space at the right time good things happen. Big things happen.

I've been struggling with the work/life balance since I returned from Spain. While on one hand I was super thrilled to have a job when I returned, I was also put into a new position right away. As mentioned before, I went from low person in the business to pretty important fairly quickly and before I could get used to one thing, I was promoted into a different role. One thing is for certain, not a day has gone by where I'm bored or looking for something to do. You want a new event planner? No problem! I'll try it out and see if it works.

And I was able to make immediate changes. And I got to clean up several messes. Some big, some small but messes all the same. I went from working roughly 20 hours a week to 40+. Gray hairs popped up with great frequency. I have a permanent knot in my right shoulder. And while I know I'm doing a great job and accomplishing a lot, I also recognize this isn't a sustainable pace. Or at least, not for me.

So today, after thinking about it over the weekend and during the week, I decided to take another leap. I decided to tell them it wasn't working for me and that while I enjoyed working with them, I don't think this is the right fit. I was prepared and ready to walk. Never did I see the counter offer coming. I got a call within the hour.

What would you do? Do you stay with the stressful but comfortable feeling of having a steady pay check? Or do you take the leap, pull yourself away from suckling on the bottle and go for it? That book I've been talking about isn't going to write itself. Those dreams I have won't become reality unless I start doing the footwork toward them. And as scary as that leap can feel, to step outside of your comfort zone, it's necessary for growth and the ultimate reward.

So if you see someone perched in limbo, straddling the fence between just doing it or staying in the same old routine, promise me that you'll tell them to go for it. Promise me that you'll go for it. Promise yourself to pursue it with gusto. Life is too long to not being doing exactly what you love. 

Howdy!

I can barely keep my eye balls open right now... but don't think I haven't thought of you! Things have been a little busy, to say the least. And I must have a slice of apple pie before heading to bed. Priorities.

More to come soon, I promise!

Life is what you make of it.

A year ago to the day, Benjamin and I were driving to Colorado Springs after spending the weekend in Taos, New Mexico. The tour was on, and normally I would be in Portland for the AVC, but this year I decided to skip it. Turns out they were rained on and some of the racing was canceled or delayed. Instead of pushing a fixed gear with my muscles, I brought my new 29" Kona hard tail mountain bike.

The riding in NM was not as good as we thought it would be. The recent fires closed most of the killer areas that we scoped out. So we headed back to COS and I packed up my bike to ship it home. When I went to board the flight, United overbooked the flight and were looking for volunteers. Volunteers would be comped $400 in travel vouchers and could go home anytime they wanted. My hand shot up.

A quick trip back to the FedEx where I dropped my bike off and a quick rebuild of my bike and I was off to Buckhorn trail and down Captain Jacks. At the top of the trail, just before turning down to make the descent - I made the decision that this was the place I wanted to live.

Flying home the next day to dumping rain in Seattle confirmed that decision.

And now here I am, a year after making that decision in a beautiful home with our two sweet puppies, in an amazing relationship with the man of my dreams, catching the Tour on the tele and working for a kick ass company who believes in me and understands my pedaling passion.

Life is what you make of it. And being the master of your own destiny pretty much rules. YES!!!

A Lost Art

My grandmother would be so proud.

Today, I was taught the art of place setting: where the salad and dinner fork, spoon, knife, desert and napkin go. Which direction the fork points, or the spoon, depending on its placement. And which way to point the knife (toward the plate). I know, I know. In the grand scheme of things these details and knowledge are pretty useless. Knowing where a fork goes won't make me a better person or solve world hunger. But for right now, it's paying my bills.

Last January I sent an inquiry email to Garden of the Gods' Gourmet. I rode by their place of business several times and thought - I love food, they're gourmet so let's make this happen. That's actually what I put in my application. A day later the manager called, next thing I know I'm running food all over Colorado Springs. It was exhausting! But I showed up on time, had a positive attitude and guess what? Within two months I was promoted to work the Market.

The Market went well. I sold products, educated customers on what we have and continued to lend a hand as much as possible. Again, I showed up on time, had a positive attitude and guess what? Within three months I was promoted to work in logistics.

Logistics went well. I posted the daily boards in the kitchen, helped out in as many was as possible. Then I went away for a month to Spain. I wasn't sure what would happen when I returned. But you guessed it, I showed up on time, had a positive attitude and guess what? Within two weeks I was promoted to work in event planning.

I've been open about my training schedule and travel - and my boss is completely fine with it. It is so nice to be valued and recognized. And to pursue my passion of racing. I am happy to be a part of this team and contribute in as many ways as possible. So today, I helped with place settings in our banquet facility for 75 people. I could hear my grandmother's praise and remembered how much she loved details about parties and the "proper" way to do things. The event was flawless, the customers happy.

I never would have thought I'd be planning people's weddings, taking care of a building and put in a serious leadership role this quickly. But I'm rolling with it, showing up on time and have a positive attitude.

As I folded linen napkins, I glanced down at my fingernails and laugh - Mummer also the one who told me that if I continued to bite my fingernails as a little girl, I wouldn't have any friends. I better start working on that....

Mallorca, Spain

It's been a week since I've been home and I miss the beautiful Mediterranean Ocean, salt air, salty pork, but mostly Benjamin. It seems like a dream, the three weeks I was there. I carried home memories to last a lifetime. We laughed, we played, he worked and I rode about 700 miles while there and loved every pedal stroke.

 So many beautiful sites. I love being the observer in our wonderful world, breathing it all in and letting it soak into my soul.

Riding just for the sake of riding, to take it all in. To see how high I could get my TSS score each day and celebrating with chocolate soy milk, pudding and cokes afterward.

To pedal through towns, sprint for town signs and soaking it all in. I feel incredibly lucky.

To pedal around mountains and counting in kilometers....

To appreciate each day and live it to the fullest. Mission accomplished.

Living a life without agendas and making the most of just being. Check.

No question about it, I could live in Mallorca. But only if Benjamin was there with me. ;) Home is where ever he is.

Pictures from the fire.

Fire. It's part of the circle of life. A natural occurrence that man kind has learned to harness to some extent. But it's also non-tamable. And if you add in wind, dry timber for fuel - nothing can stop its path. But the forests need it, to be burned clean so life can start new. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

This is where I used to start my hill repeats. I have stashed any extra bottles and flat kit by the electrical box you see in the background.

I was curious. I wanted to see with my own eyes what the city experienced the previous week. Being just outside of the evacuation zone, I wanted to see just how much of an impact this fire had. Along with the rest of the world, I saw the images on CNN and the Gazette. But nothing prepared me for the real impact.

Unlike the previous few days, the smoke smell disappeared. And if you look to the left, the houses are untouched even though the ridge above it was charcoal gray.

I didn't know which neighborhood Mountain Shadows is. I knew it was up in the vicinity where I do my hill repeats, but I didn't realize it was called that. Looking left (south), other than the brush fire remnants, nothing appears out of the ordinary.

Then you realize just how close those homes came to burning. What prevented it?

National Guard stood guard at the entrance to the streets too fire damaged to live in, yet still left standing.

See that big black patch directly in view? That's the path the fire took. It jumped over the entire street and destroyed the neighborhood below. Oddly, the fence was still standing.

Directly across the street from the picture pictured above, the Mountain Shadows neighborhood once sat. An entire cudesac: gone. I wasn't really prepared for that one. It slaps you in the face, the furry of fire.

I stood there in awe. That could have been our house. It could have been your parents, friends or neighbors. Where do you pick up the pieces after experiencing something like that? It still baffles me that only 2 people were killed from this fire.

This is the pathway of the fire, which leaped across the street and decimated the Mountain Shadow neighborhood.

Looking down into the neighborhood. That's a Jeep burned in the garage.

As I stood above what once were houses, a big wave of emotion over came me. We are but ants in this spinning world, and the world as you know can be turned upside down in a second.

A lone terracotta flower pot stands amongst the rubble.

Once I crested the hill, it took me a second to realize what I was seeing. In an effort to save more homes from burning, firefighters removed wooded fencing from all of the houses. Their tactic worked for most.

This sign put me in tears.

Yet hope rings through this neighborhood. People whose houses were spared, thanks in large part of the fire fighters efforts, but also a shift in the wind, put up signs everywhere that they are so thankful to be spared. You can feel the love.

Blodgett Mountain stands in the distance. This is the road traveling up to Woodmen.

Some how, some way, this entire neighborhood was spared. Thank you firefighter signs are every where.

Amazing.

It's hard to tell the difference between what's normal and what's not. Especially if you can't see it with your own eyes. But trust me, it's stunning. The topography remains the same, but the landscape is forever altered.

Drats! My camera phone was too slow to capture the fox... but he was there. Cautious and beautiful.

Looking back down the valley at Blodgett.

So many were lucky. So many were not. I'm proud of my community and nation in its response to the disaster. Money is pouring in for Red Cross and other disaster relief programs. Thank you all for thinking of us and know that we are safe and time will heal.

Rain on me!

It's actually raining outside. Not the little drip drop drip drop we've had on occasion during a thundershower, but an actual drenching. The last time it actually rained here was in February. Seriously. The timing is perfect. The city let out an audible sigh of relief.

The streets are lined with running water and my house has finally cooled off. It was 100 degrees earlier today. Huge winds gusted into town around 3pm and then finally, starting around 7pm the rain started.

It smells amazing. It's washing away the smoke filled air.

What a contrast to living in Seattle. It's the exact opposite. It's as sunny and dry here as it is cloudy and rainy there. Well, maybe even a little better. Although from the sounds of it, it maybe the exact opposite.

This is a serious invitation to all of my webbed feet stubborn Seattle friends: COME VISIT ME. I guarantee warmth, sun, huge grins and fat tires. There's a spare bedroom with your name on it....

Now excuse me, while I go air up the tires on my 29'er. The trails tomorrow are going to be SICK!!!!

I heart Colorado Springs

It's been a wild week.

A week ago today, as everyone now knows, Colorado Springs experienced the worst fire in Colorado state history. Benjamin and I read what we could on the web from Spain and as the fire grew worse, we felt more helpless. The evacuation zone was down to 30th and Pikes Peak and we live on 14th and Pikes Peak. Freaked out by the uncertainty and feeling like we should relieve our house/dog sitter, we booked flights to leave that afternoon.

36 hours later, we arrived in Colorado Springs. The air smelled of smoke, the sky hazy and thankfully the fire turned toward the wilderness than torching the entire city. 300 homes were not so lucky. I keep asking everyone, how did they stop the fire? What prevented it from burning down more of the city? What made the flames retreat?

Firefighters.

My coworker told me the local news showed houses exploding, one after another. Everyone was glued to their televisions as the city burned. The firefighters would removed any flammable material from porches, side yards, etc. and some how, some way it retreated.

Each time we touched down between flights we would frantically look for media coverage. Our local newspaper the Gazette had the most up to date coverage, yet their reporting didn't do it justice. It was the facts, pure and simple: town meetings, press conferences, evacuation zones, containment efforts.

Thursday night we were reunited with our puppies and home. Everything was covered in ash. Our house sitter said on Tuesday night she was glued to the television, waiting to get the word it's time to evacuate.

Friday morning I went to the grocery store just up the street. It's usually super packed no matter what time of day or night I go. The parking lot was empty at 10am. The store borders the evacuation zone and its regular clientele are the people who lost their homes. Who lost everything they owned. Who hopefully were able to grab what they needed in 20 minutes they were allowed to. Who hopefully had paid their home owners insurance. I felt like I stepped into the Twilight Zone.

Saturday night we went out to dinner with some friends and they said how depressing it was. How you couldn't go outside. How everyone had a bag packed, ready and waiting just in case. The city was awake all night Tuesday. How with every gust of air, you hold your breath, hoping the fireball doesn't return.

Rumor has it earlier that week, someone had been starting fires in the Woodland Park area. About 10 different small fires were put out. There was no lightening that day the Waldo Canyon fire started. No, this one was deliberate. Couple that with a freak storm that came up from Pueblo with 65 mph winds and what normally would burn up the canyon was blown into a fireball by the winds. That's when it flew over the ridge and engulfed the Meadow Shadows neighborhood. That's when people lost their homes.

I wasn't even here and the winds freak me out. They come in gusts every afternoon with the thunderstorms. They fuel the fire and make it spread at a rapid rate.  (Even typing this now, a big gust of wind blew in smoke-filled air into the house.)

The outpouring and support of the community is amazing. It is filled with love and generosity. Did you see the story about the grandmother who is taking care of her 4 grandchildren since their parents died and lost her home on CNN? She came into my work, completely filthy and told my coworker that she didn't ask for this. Since her face was on the news, random strangers are coming up to her and expressing their heart felt love. She went to use the ATM at a local bank and a stranger approached her saying he had been waiting for her and handed her a plastic bag with wrapped up $100 bills and Valium. During the evacuation she had only enough time to gather her children's ashes, her pets, her four grandchildren and run. One of the little boys asked her if she grabbed his Lego's.

Story after story after story.

The city is regaining its composure. It's regaining its strength, slowly. Time is on our side in that it never stops. And the more time that passes, the more healing can be done.

Colorado Springs is on fire.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!