The throb is back. That steady, dull leg ache that remains throughout the
day and into the night. Once I lay down to go to bed, they really start
barking at me and it puts a smile on my face. Why a smile instead of a
grimace? Because I know that the throb means I did my work for the day. I
battled the inner demons, put on the spandex and got out for a ride.
Three and a half hours later, lunch and then into the gym for some
lifting and dinner - and I was out cold by 8:30. I tried to watch Lost, I
really tried. But my eyes were just too heavy and the couch was just
too comfy...
Admittedly, it is hard to get back out there. It's hard
to get back into the routine of riding when it's cold and windy. It's
hard to get back in the swing of things after moving, the holidays, the
steady interruptions. And it's hard to get back after such a relaxing
Christmas. Benjamin and I headed up to Beaver Creek and although they
only have a 18" snow base, we skied as many turns as possible in a short
amount of time. We also spent a lot of time on the couch playing Mario
Kart Wii. Somebody was a good girl this Christmas and got a video game
or two. Yes, we are big kids.
It was almost 60 degrees
outside today. Perfect riding weather. Except the mountain bike trails
were filled with snow slog slush. The kind that requires big power
output, determination, balance and down right grit. Sometimes I'd bog
down, make a bbbbbbaaaaaaapppppp, bbbbbaaaaaapppppp,
bbbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaapppppppp noise and power through. Other times I'd
dab the foot down in 8" of snow that left my feet cold and wet by the
end of the ride. Was it worth it? Absolutely. For the throb is back,
again.
Time to fall asleep to another episode of Lost...
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Pikes Peak
It's been snowing off and on all day today, a perfect way to bring in
the winter solstice. I love how the snow blankets everything in a quiet
stillness. As we start to get to know this house, its 106 years of
character and charm, we notice how quiet it is. There's no freeway noise
from highway 24, like on Lovers Lane. It stands strong and sturdy, not
built on stilts like the old house. No rascals breaking an entry into
the pantry (yet!). It is so incredibly warm - so inviting. We even
caught Moonli howling in his sleep last night while eating dinner. And
Makiah is using the dog door! Just goes to show you can teach an old dog
new tricks.
I'm sitting in my new periwinkle office with boxes everywhere and a faint smell of baby diapers. The previous owners bought this house 10 years ago and completely rennovated it and remodeled the kitchen. Then they had 4 children. The dragonflies on the walls means those little ones slept in this room - and it's no wonder the room has such good energy.
On a clear day and in the winter, you can see the surrounding mountains when you look out the window to the South. Yep, it's still snowing.
Our new kitchen is nothing short of amazing. The only hick up is that my big plates won't fit in the dishwasher. That's it though! It is a dream. Last night we toasted our first meal and know this home will bring years and years of happiness.
I have so much to be thankful for right now. This is a winter solstice I will never forget.
I'm sitting in my new periwinkle office with boxes everywhere and a faint smell of baby diapers. The previous owners bought this house 10 years ago and completely rennovated it and remodeled the kitchen. Then they had 4 children. The dragonflies on the walls means those little ones slept in this room - and it's no wonder the room has such good energy.
On a clear day and in the winter, you can see the surrounding mountains when you look out the window to the South. Yep, it's still snowing.
Our new kitchen is nothing short of amazing. The only hick up is that my big plates won't fit in the dishwasher. That's it though! It is a dream. Last night we toasted our first meal and know this home will bring years and years of happiness.
I have so much to be thankful for right now. This is a winter solstice I will never forget.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Updates coming soon, I promise!
Just put the keys to the new house on my key chain this morning!
Benjamin and I start moving tomorrow and are super duper excited but also swamped, leaving zero time for blog updates. But they are coming, I promise! Along with photos.
If you would have told me a year ago I'd be moving from Lovers Lane to Old Colorado City I would have thought you were insane. Yet it's really happening. Wow.
So much to celebrate! Winter solstice, 30 years of debt, amazing new neighborhood, a kitchen that puts my old one in Seattle to shame, 2012 just around the corner, a happy home - yeah, I'm pretty lucky.
Benjamin and I start moving tomorrow and are super duper excited but also swamped, leaving zero time for blog updates. But they are coming, I promise! Along with photos.
If you would have told me a year ago I'd be moving from Lovers Lane to Old Colorado City I would have thought you were insane. Yet it's really happening. Wow.
So much to celebrate! Winter solstice, 30 years of debt, amazing new neighborhood, a kitchen that puts my old one in Seattle to shame, 2012 just around the corner, a happy home - yeah, I'm pretty lucky.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Life is long.
Group rides rule.
As a true Seattle native, I never understood what the hype was all about. For the past seven years, my weekend group ride existence was composed entirely of team rides. We'd meet at said designated point donned with buddy fenders (to keep the rain spray at a minimum) and do the same routes week in, week out. Occasionally we might have a guest rider join us, but only after the group was first asked if so and so could join.
You'd pass other team rides out on the road, all in matching kits. Not once do I recall a giant group of people with various kits riding together, especially around the south end of Lake Washington. Oh wait, yes I do! The Seattle to Portland ride and the Chilly Hilly. Apparently cross contaminating kits may result in labeling riders as clubers, not racers. And there will be none of that.
The only ride close to a group ride that goes on in the rest of the country is David Richter's Rocket ride. But even still, if the weather is that crappy out the ride is canceled and the battle of who can hang on the longest resumes the next weekend. And seeing someone show up to the Rocket Ride in a non-recognizable team kit means only one thing: stir clear of the Fred.
I had to move half way across the country to really understand why group rides rule.
Don't get me wrong, I love riding with teammates. But we know each others strengths and weaknesses a little too well. You can't exactly apply team tactics to your own team. You can't test your strengths against other competitors and judge fitness levels. Sure you bond with your teammates and I absolutely believe in team rides but group rides are different. They are open to everyone. They add a couple layers of mystery to the ride. Similar to racing, you need to be able to figure out on a whim who is riding strong right now, whose wheel to be on, who is a dark horse that will pull you up to the break.
Group rides provide not only a killer workout sprinting for the top of hills, street signs and other random macho marks through out the ride, but you also gain a sense of camaraderie of belonging to a pack. You latch onto a group of people who like you are out to get a good workout equipped with spandex, power bars, sheer grit and two wheels. The fact that you go beyond your normal comfort zone and into the red multiple times is without a doubt. You suffer, you breath hard, you occasionally win a sprint, you go cross eyed. And yes, often times the pros come out to play.
Here in the Springs there are two options for group rides, one on Saturday and one on Sunday. They both leave at 10am from the Starbucks on the corner of Tejon and Bijou and are open to anyone who shows up. The difference between the two rides is simple: flat vs. hilly. Saturday's ride goes into Kansas. (You know - the Kansas that runs directly east of the front range?) The relatively flat, slightly rolling terrain and wind provide their own set of challenges. Sunday's ride does a loop through the Air Force Academy and then through the west hills of the front range.
This week was my first time making the Sunday ride and it provided everything I needed: lung bleeding, foaming mouth, determination check, sprint points, etc. Except today I got an extra bonus: I received affirmation that what I'm doing is right on.
On the return trip from the Academy, I rode next to Todd. Unassuming as Todd was in his black tights, wind jacket, steel frame and larger than average cyclist body type, his handling was pretty remarkable. I could tell he had been riding a while. Turns out he was a racer in the 70's and 80's. He followed his heart which was set on riding in the outdoors, not with his nose stuck in law books at Stanford. He quit law school to race his bike. I liked him immediately.
"Life is too short!"
"On the contrary, at 22 I thought quite the opposite. Life is too long! I want to be doing something I love because I have a really long life to live. Call me a forever optimist but that's the world as I see it."
Todd had a great perspective. It was refreshing and inspiring. And it proved to me two things: one, group rides rule. And two, life is long. If you're not following your heart and doing the things you enjoy then it's time to start. Quit your law school and race a bike. Follow your dreams and push your limits. And make sure what ever it is that you're doing puts a big fat grin on your face and make those smile lines permanent.
As a true Seattle native, I never understood what the hype was all about. For the past seven years, my weekend group ride existence was composed entirely of team rides. We'd meet at said designated point donned with buddy fenders (to keep the rain spray at a minimum) and do the same routes week in, week out. Occasionally we might have a guest rider join us, but only after the group was first asked if so and so could join.
You'd pass other team rides out on the road, all in matching kits. Not once do I recall a giant group of people with various kits riding together, especially around the south end of Lake Washington. Oh wait, yes I do! The Seattle to Portland ride and the Chilly Hilly. Apparently cross contaminating kits may result in labeling riders as clubers, not racers. And there will be none of that.
The only ride close to a group ride that goes on in the rest of the country is David Richter's Rocket ride. But even still, if the weather is that crappy out the ride is canceled and the battle of who can hang on the longest resumes the next weekend. And seeing someone show up to the Rocket Ride in a non-recognizable team kit means only one thing: stir clear of the Fred.
I had to move half way across the country to really understand why group rides rule.
Don't get me wrong, I love riding with teammates. But we know each others strengths and weaknesses a little too well. You can't exactly apply team tactics to your own team. You can't test your strengths against other competitors and judge fitness levels. Sure you bond with your teammates and I absolutely believe in team rides but group rides are different. They are open to everyone. They add a couple layers of mystery to the ride. Similar to racing, you need to be able to figure out on a whim who is riding strong right now, whose wheel to be on, who is a dark horse that will pull you up to the break.
Group rides provide not only a killer workout sprinting for the top of hills, street signs and other random macho marks through out the ride, but you also gain a sense of camaraderie of belonging to a pack. You latch onto a group of people who like you are out to get a good workout equipped with spandex, power bars, sheer grit and two wheels. The fact that you go beyond your normal comfort zone and into the red multiple times is without a doubt. You suffer, you breath hard, you occasionally win a sprint, you go cross eyed. And yes, often times the pros come out to play.
Here in the Springs there are two options for group rides, one on Saturday and one on Sunday. They both leave at 10am from the Starbucks on the corner of Tejon and Bijou and are open to anyone who shows up. The difference between the two rides is simple: flat vs. hilly. Saturday's ride goes into Kansas. (You know - the Kansas that runs directly east of the front range?) The relatively flat, slightly rolling terrain and wind provide their own set of challenges. Sunday's ride does a loop through the Air Force Academy and then through the west hills of the front range.
This week was my first time making the Sunday ride and it provided everything I needed: lung bleeding, foaming mouth, determination check, sprint points, etc. Except today I got an extra bonus: I received affirmation that what I'm doing is right on.
On the return trip from the Academy, I rode next to Todd. Unassuming as Todd was in his black tights, wind jacket, steel frame and larger than average cyclist body type, his handling was pretty remarkable. I could tell he had been riding a while. Turns out he was a racer in the 70's and 80's. He followed his heart which was set on riding in the outdoors, not with his nose stuck in law books at Stanford. He quit law school to race his bike. I liked him immediately.
"Life is too short!"
"On the contrary, at 22 I thought quite the opposite. Life is too long! I want to be doing something I love because I have a really long life to live. Call me a forever optimist but that's the world as I see it."
Todd had a great perspective. It was refreshing and inspiring. And it proved to me two things: one, group rides rule. And two, life is long. If you're not following your heart and doing the things you enjoy then it's time to start. Quit your law school and race a bike. Follow your dreams and push your limits. And make sure what ever it is that you're doing puts a big fat grin on your face and make those smile lines permanent.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Sometimes feeling blue is okay.
Today was a cold, blue day. I didn't wake up that way, in fact, far from it. But as I got out on my mountain bike and soared through the cold, crisp air, I could feel the blues arriving. Trying to prevent them from settling on my consciousness, I rode and rode. Up and up I went, through cold canyons and icy deserted trails. Slipping here and there in deep sand, breathing heavy and trying to ride away from them.
But the harder I rode, the deeper the blues sank. Every song I listened to ushered in memories.
Some days it's best to let those feelings fly. It's best to let them come in waves. It's best not to deny them and just to acknowledge them, to feel them. To let them come and then go. And if they decide to stay for a little while, invite them in, find out what they want and then ask them to leave.
I came across this old post from another online journal and thought I'd share it. It definitely goes along with the blues....
I will say that after some time has passed, and several moons have circumnavigated the earth, you start to forget that you are swimming. Or at least you start to take treading water for granted.
The frequency of the sobbing subsides, your emotions become more even and steady and time starts to heal your open wound a little bit more.
And just when you think, hey, I’ve got the hang of this – something will whisk you back. I know that drudging up my journals, going back through them and putting those feelings up is a sure fire way to wade through that sorrow again. But I’m also doing it as a way to accept they happened. That I’m recognizing the strength I’ve gained from going through them and that rather then ignoring them or filing them away, I’m putting them out there to chalk up to experience.
Sometimes feeling blue is okay.
But the harder I rode, the deeper the blues sank. Every song I listened to ushered in memories.
Some days it's best to let those feelings fly. It's best to let them come in waves. It's best not to deny them and just to acknowledge them, to feel them. To let them come and then go. And if they decide to stay for a little while, invite them in, find out what they want and then ask them to leave.
I came across this old post from another online journal and thought I'd share it. It definitely goes along with the blues....
I will say that after some time has passed, and several moons have circumnavigated the earth, you start to forget that you are swimming. Or at least you start to take treading water for granted.
The frequency of the sobbing subsides, your emotions become more even and steady and time starts to heal your open wound a little bit more.
And just when you think, hey, I’ve got the hang of this – something will whisk you back. I know that drudging up my journals, going back through them and putting those feelings up is a sure fire way to wade through that sorrow again. But I’m also doing it as a way to accept they happened. That I’m recognizing the strength I’ve gained from going through them and that rather then ignoring them or filing them away, I’m putting them out there to chalk up to experience.
Sometimes feeling blue is okay.
Sunday, December 04, 2011
All is right in the world.
Today was incredible. I mean seriously. I got 8 hours of solid sleep last night. I woke up for an hour, read my book and then fell asleep for another 2 hours. Then I got to go mountain biking instead of riding the trainer for three hours. Shawnee and Joey were game to join me despite the 20 degree high forecast. We avoided any snow showers or crazy blowing wind and I got home just before the snow did hit.
Then I went back to their house for some chicken, lime and tortilla soup followed by tree decorating with their two year old, Eve. And I am happy to report I am in Eve's inner circle. How do I know? She called for me from the toilet to help her. I am so in.
Wait, wait. It gets better! (How can it possibly, right?)
I stopped by King Soopers on the way home to buy some mint M&M's only to discover Cadbury has a Christmas version of their Easter milk chocolate mini-eggs. Do you know what this means? I don't have to wait till Easter to eat my favorite candy in the whole wide world!!!!
I scored a 111 point word on Words with Friends! Somebody stop me!!!
My friend Laura sent me a picture of my old VW bus, Maggie decorated for the holidays. I heart Maggie.
AND THEN! I read a post on Facebook tonight that my friends Ben and Danielle were reunited with their dog Pepe, who has been missing since July! Truly a miracle. Check out my profile page for the remarkable full story in Danielle's words.
And the real topper? The icing on the cake?!?! The cherry topper on my ice cream sundae?!?!?!?!? Benjamin gets home tonight after being gone for three weeks!
I just hope I'm not all cracked out on chocolate mini-eggs when his flight gets in. ;)
Then I went back to their house for some chicken, lime and tortilla soup followed by tree decorating with their two year old, Eve. And I am happy to report I am in Eve's inner circle. How do I know? She called for me from the toilet to help her. I am so in.
Wait, wait. It gets better! (How can it possibly, right?)
I stopped by King Soopers on the way home to buy some mint M&M's only to discover Cadbury has a Christmas version of their Easter milk chocolate mini-eggs. Do you know what this means? I don't have to wait till Easter to eat my favorite candy in the whole wide world!!!!
I scored a 111 point word on Words with Friends! Somebody stop me!!!
My friend Laura sent me a picture of my old VW bus, Maggie decorated for the holidays. I heart Maggie.
AND THEN! I read a post on Facebook tonight that my friends Ben and Danielle were reunited with their dog Pepe, who has been missing since July! Truly a miracle. Check out my profile page for the remarkable full story in Danielle's words.
And the real topper? The icing on the cake?!?! The cherry topper on my ice cream sundae?!?!?!?!? Benjamin gets home tonight after being gone for three weeks!
I just hope I'm not all cracked out on chocolate mini-eggs when his flight gets in. ;)
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Snow cooler anyone?
It's snowing!!! And not just a little, a lot! I was trying to think of what people do with snow if they don't ski and came across this photo.
Ingenious.
Friday, December 02, 2011
The Art of Happiness
1. Live your passion. 2. Dare to dream. 3. Write your dreams down and post them somewhere you can see it everyday. 4. Tell your dreams to a friend. 5. Surround yourself with positive people. 6. Get outside. 7. Listen to what others have to say. 8. Send letters to your grandparents. 9. Tell your parents you love them. 10. Eat whole foods. 11. Climb a mountain. 12. Ski downhill. 13. Challenge yourself by trying something new. 14. Go somewhere new on vacation. 15. Watch Muppet movies. 16. Have potlucks with friends. 17. Ride bikes. 18. Laugh often, especially at yourself. 19. Do something adventurous every week. 20. Bake cookies. 21. Play ping pong. 22. Read books. 23. Cook! 24. Play with dogs. 25. Be creative. 26. Be scientific. 27. Drink water. 28. Sleep well. 29. Go see plays. 30. Eat desert first. 31. Brush your teeth. 32. Go skinny dipping. 33. Giggle. 34. Get into flow. 35. Forgive quickly and often. 36. Become an expert. 37. Go to Hawaii and stick your toes in the sand and swim in the Pacific Ocean. 38. Love fearlessly. 39. Send friends birthday cards. 40. Be kind. 41. Open doors for others. 42. Smile. 43. Let those in your life know how much you love them. 44. Suck on chocolate. 45. Listen to jazz. 46. Share your story. 47. Exercise frequently. 48. Live life to the fullest. 49. Be optimistic. 50. Express gratitude. 51. Smile at strangers. 52. Ride your bike! 53. Listen to music and sing out loud. 54. Walk or run or ride in the rain. 55. Give and share. 56. read JT's Blog! 57. Color "out side" of the lines or doodle. 58. Just say "doodle" repeatedly. 59.
Watch birds. 60. Read a frivolous book under a tree with a drink that contains an umbrella. 61. Share your "signature dance" move as frequently as possible.
What would you add?
Watch birds. 60. Read a frivolous book under a tree with a drink that contains an umbrella. 61. Share your "signature dance" move as frequently as possible.
What would you add?
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Todays motivation courtesy of that white fluffy stuff falling from the sky.
It started slowly at first. A few flakes here, a few flakes there.
As they start to come down with regular frequency, I snuggled deeper into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. My hand would creep out from this warm cocoon to turn the page every 60 seconds or so.
Makiah heard me rustle, attempted to get me out of bed to feed her. This is our morning ritual. She starts pawing the side of the bed at 6am, like a child crying in the morning for comfort. Thankfully she’s a dog and sort of listens when I tell her to go lie down. I turn on my iPad and start reading – blog posts, random entries from strangers and friends, morning news. When I tire of short entries, I turn on my kindle and start turning pages. Every half hour Makiah gets up and scratches at the side of the bed, ever hopeful that I’ll get up right then and feed her.
But not this morning. Like the snow, I’m starting slowly at first.
For with the snow comes riding the trainer. And today’s scheduled 3 hour can be put off until I’m good and ready. More like good and motivated. Trainer rides. A sure sign winter is here. A true test of dedication, determination and stamina. I used to be able to count on two hands the number of trainer rides I did in Seattle in the past 7 years. Regardless of how wet or cold it was outside, I’d always gear up. I’d always brave the inclement weather, always be the lone wolf out hunting watts and heart rate zones. Unless of course it was icy.
Since I prefer keeping my fingers and toes, I happily opt to ride the trainer, despite its boring nature. Three hour endurance rides. Those are barely fun when you have to do them outside, let alone perched in one spot, strapped down to a torture device. But my affliction is slightly different this year – Benjamin set up a Tacx system for me. Similar to a CompuTrainer, it simulates real riding. I’ve already logged time on the Amstel Gold race course, San Sebastian and Milan-San Remo. And it makes 3 hours of endurance riding possible. Dare I say I’m starting to enjoy them?
The snow is starting to fall faster, whitening out views of Pikes Peak and Red Mountain. I make a mental note to make some butternut squash soup. Maybe I should go grab some boxes out of storage to start packing. Maybe I’ll have my biggest day of writing yet – nailing down three chapters in one day. How many chores can I do before I succumb to my inevitable three hour crucifixion?
And then I pull out a mantra from memory: A champion is made a day at a time.
As they start to come down with regular frequency, I snuggled deeper into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. My hand would creep out from this warm cocoon to turn the page every 60 seconds or so.
Makiah heard me rustle, attempted to get me out of bed to feed her. This is our morning ritual. She starts pawing the side of the bed at 6am, like a child crying in the morning for comfort. Thankfully she’s a dog and sort of listens when I tell her to go lie down. I turn on my iPad and start reading – blog posts, random entries from strangers and friends, morning news. When I tire of short entries, I turn on my kindle and start turning pages. Every half hour Makiah gets up and scratches at the side of the bed, ever hopeful that I’ll get up right then and feed her.
But not this morning. Like the snow, I’m starting slowly at first.
For with the snow comes riding the trainer. And today’s scheduled 3 hour can be put off until I’m good and ready. More like good and motivated. Trainer rides. A sure sign winter is here. A true test of dedication, determination and stamina. I used to be able to count on two hands the number of trainer rides I did in Seattle in the past 7 years. Regardless of how wet or cold it was outside, I’d always gear up. I’d always brave the inclement weather, always be the lone wolf out hunting watts and heart rate zones. Unless of course it was icy.
Since I prefer keeping my fingers and toes, I happily opt to ride the trainer, despite its boring nature. Three hour endurance rides. Those are barely fun when you have to do them outside, let alone perched in one spot, strapped down to a torture device. But my affliction is slightly different this year – Benjamin set up a Tacx system for me. Similar to a CompuTrainer, it simulates real riding. I’ve already logged time on the Amstel Gold race course, San Sebastian and Milan-San Remo. And it makes 3 hours of endurance riding possible. Dare I say I’m starting to enjoy them?
The snow is starting to fall faster, whitening out views of Pikes Peak and Red Mountain. I make a mental note to make some butternut squash soup. Maybe I should go grab some boxes out of storage to start packing. Maybe I’ll have my biggest day of writing yet – nailing down three chapters in one day. How many chores can I do before I succumb to my inevitable three hour crucifixion?
And then I pull out a mantra from memory: A champion is made a day at a time.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Dare to dream.
As I age, my purpose on this planet becomes more and more clear. As I discover who I really am, what makes me happy, what I love to do, what I feel passionate about, what makes me tick - I start to realize those dreams I had as a little kid are coming true.
It can be hard to admit what those dreams are.
(Cue Monster music....) What if someone thinks they're silly? Who cares! What if I can't make them come true? Won't you always wonder if you don't at least try? Am I afraid of failure or success for that matter? Wouldn't you rather risk happiness then be stuck unhappy for the rest of your life?
I'm about to do something crazy.
I'm going to share with all of you my childhood dreams.
Drum roll, please........
I dream of being a professional athlete.
I dream of being a motivational speaker.
I dream of being a writer.
I dream of helping others admit their dreams and go for them with gusto.
There. I said it.
If you don't admit your dreams, if you don't take a risk and go for it - then you'll never know if they can become a reality. So, what are your dreams?
It can be hard to admit what those dreams are.
(Cue Monster music....) What if someone thinks they're silly? Who cares! What if I can't make them come true? Won't you always wonder if you don't at least try? Am I afraid of failure or success for that matter? Wouldn't you rather risk happiness then be stuck unhappy for the rest of your life?
I'm about to do something crazy.
I'm going to share with all of you my childhood dreams.
Drum roll, please........
I dream of being a professional athlete.
I dream of being a motivational speaker.
I dream of being a writer.
I dream of helping others admit their dreams and go for them with gusto.
There. I said it.
If you don't admit your dreams, if you don't take a risk and go for it - then you'll never know if they can become a reality. So, what are your dreams?
Monday, November 28, 2011
Tsunami Flash Flood.
I couldn't walk down the street fast enough. Tears were coming, and they were building quickly. I didn't want to run into anyone, didn't want anyone to see me. I tried thinking of things that would make me immediately happy - riding, sunshine, Colorado.... anything to not feel the depths of grief coming at me in tsunami proportions.
But they still hit.
I haven't been in my old house in three months. Not since I packed up the uHaul and headed east. I thought I had said goodbye to my old attachments. Thought that the furniture I left in the house wouldn't weigh me down. Thought that having my sister live there with her things inside the house would make everything okay. Thought that dealing with Ryan's clothing in August and separating myself from constant daily reminders would make things easier.
But it didn't.
I walked right into this one. On a whim last night a friend mentioned she's building a massive climbing wall for her husband and children to enjoy. Thinking of the thousands of holds that fill my basement where Ryan poured hours of blood sweet and tears into his passion, I wanted someone else to use what he had left behind. She showed up this morning and as we took down two dozen jugs and wooden holds, my protective wall started coming down.
I've dealt with a lot of shit since he passed. A lot of shit. But that doesn't mean that you're over dealing with stuff. It doesn't mean that feelings and emotions won't resurface. It doesn't mean that your immune to tears, immune to feeling loss. It is always there. It just visits with less frequency.
After she left, I couldn't get out of the house fast enough. I know I'll need to come back. I know I need to deal with what remnants I left behind. I know that if I really want to close that chapter in my life, then I'll need to get rid of as much as possible. And it's not going to be easy.
Sigh.
And to think, this morning as I was driving back to my mom's from the gym I felt so incredible. So happy that I did the right thing by moving. So excited about what's to come and the possibilities that lie before me. And I still am - I just got sucked into a flash flood of emotions.
But they still hit.
I haven't been in my old house in three months. Not since I packed up the uHaul and headed east. I thought I had said goodbye to my old attachments. Thought that the furniture I left in the house wouldn't weigh me down. Thought that having my sister live there with her things inside the house would make everything okay. Thought that dealing with Ryan's clothing in August and separating myself from constant daily reminders would make things easier.
But it didn't.
I walked right into this one. On a whim last night a friend mentioned she's building a massive climbing wall for her husband and children to enjoy. Thinking of the thousands of holds that fill my basement where Ryan poured hours of blood sweet and tears into his passion, I wanted someone else to use what he had left behind. She showed up this morning and as we took down two dozen jugs and wooden holds, my protective wall started coming down.
I've dealt with a lot of shit since he passed. A lot of shit. But that doesn't mean that you're over dealing with stuff. It doesn't mean that feelings and emotions won't resurface. It doesn't mean that your immune to tears, immune to feeling loss. It is always there. It just visits with less frequency.
After she left, I couldn't get out of the house fast enough. I know I'll need to come back. I know I need to deal with what remnants I left behind. I know that if I really want to close that chapter in my life, then I'll need to get rid of as much as possible. And it's not going to be easy.
Sigh.
And to think, this morning as I was driving back to my mom's from the gym I felt so incredible. So happy that I did the right thing by moving. So excited about what's to come and the possibilities that lie before me. And I still am - I just got sucked into a flash flood of emotions.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Boo!
I spun down Gap Road, heading south on wet pavement. The horses and cows sometimes jump in fright as the sounds of my bike were carried down wind. I assume that not many cyclist roam these parts, or at least not lately. I play a game with each one, hoping I'd spook them and then regret that I had, pedaling toward the next innocent bystander. One time I scared a flock of 50 sheep and watched as they moved like the wind away from me. When I ran out of livestock, I started counting electrical poles. I neglected to bring music today and found my mind wandering.
Winter is well on her way, despite some trees having most of their leaves still attached and just now starting to change colors. Oregon sure is green. And wet. It's been a while since I've brought a bike down to these parts and roaming the quiet country roads is the therapy I was hoping for.
Three plus hour rides whirl by and not a single route repeated and only a handful of trucks zooming by. I roll through the hills and bank right, heading toward the wide open and often windy Willamette valley. These were my stomping grounds as a kid. Except my road rides were from our house in south Eugene to the river and back. A far cry from the open country roads I play on today. The land is so fertile here. It is no wonder my brother calls it home, its natural beauty easy on the eyes and sweet on the soul.
I look down valley toward Eugene and see Spencer Butte, the biggest mountain we had around growing up. Its summit is probably 700 feet. I smile, knowing I require bigger mountains and now I have them. In fact, my new Spencer Butte has been super sized with Pikes Peak measuring in around 14,400 feet. I also realize this mountain fixation has been with me since I was a child.
Today we head back up to Seattle, where i'll spend my last couple of days here hanging with friends and figuring out what loose ends to attack on another trip. My sister loves living in my old house and I am happy for her. But it's time for me to deal with things since I left in such haste, such a whirlwind of packing and sorting. It was so worth it. I love where I call home now and I love who I can call home with.
Winter is well on her way, despite some trees having most of their leaves still attached and just now starting to change colors. Oregon sure is green. And wet. It's been a while since I've brought a bike down to these parts and roaming the quiet country roads is the therapy I was hoping for.
Three plus hour rides whirl by and not a single route repeated and only a handful of trucks zooming by. I roll through the hills and bank right, heading toward the wide open and often windy Willamette valley. These were my stomping grounds as a kid. Except my road rides were from our house in south Eugene to the river and back. A far cry from the open country roads I play on today. The land is so fertile here. It is no wonder my brother calls it home, its natural beauty easy on the eyes and sweet on the soul.
I look down valley toward Eugene and see Spencer Butte, the biggest mountain we had around growing up. Its summit is probably 700 feet. I smile, knowing I require bigger mountains and now I have them. In fact, my new Spencer Butte has been super sized with Pikes Peak measuring in around 14,400 feet. I also realize this mountain fixation has been with me since I was a child.
Today we head back up to Seattle, where i'll spend my last couple of days here hanging with friends and figuring out what loose ends to attack on another trip. My sister loves living in my old house and I am happy for her. But it's time for me to deal with things since I left in such haste, such a whirlwind of packing and sorting. It was so worth it. I love where I call home now and I love who I can call home with.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Family.
We walked into a spotless house. George and Jaimie had put everything away, vacuumed, and thought of every detail - not a small task with two kids and an army of toys. I have a hard time keeping my own house clean when it's just me so I can only imagine what it is like for them. Even with toys scattered about and things out of place, their house is so welcoming, so warm. I love it. I love them. Family.
My sister and I made the five hour car trek south early this morning from Seattle to Brownsville, Oregon. A stop here and there, three naps later and only one ten mile stretch of bumper to bumper traffic in the pouring rain saw us entering Linn County, the grass seed capital of the world.
Oh, Brownsville. A town of 1,500, where the movie, "Stand By Me" was filmed and where the town mayor was once arrested for her husband growing pot, employing the local high school students to distribute and within 1/4 mile of school grounds. Dave Letterman caught wind of that story, aired it on national television and this sleepy little town added a little more to its claim to fame. My big brother was one of the arresting officers and has his own stories to share.
But normally it's so quiet here you can hear the crickets chirp and count a sky full of billions of stars.
Tonight I sleep in Coleman's room, with a ceiling decorated with model airplanes and gadgets and gizmos covering the floor. He's nine now and growing so fast, as kids always do. We giggle and laugh as I tell him stories about bears and raccoons in Colorado and his eyes widen and a smirk spreads from check to check when I tell him my only weapon to fight them off is a plunger.
"Oh, Jenny!"
It's good to be here. There's so much to be thankful for. I'm savoring each moment, each story shared and getting soaked in the rain. I knew a month of no rain would eventually catch up...
My sister and I made the five hour car trek south early this morning from Seattle to Brownsville, Oregon. A stop here and there, three naps later and only one ten mile stretch of bumper to bumper traffic in the pouring rain saw us entering Linn County, the grass seed capital of the world.
Oh, Brownsville. A town of 1,500, where the movie, "Stand By Me" was filmed and where the town mayor was once arrested for her husband growing pot, employing the local high school students to distribute and within 1/4 mile of school grounds. Dave Letterman caught wind of that story, aired it on national television and this sleepy little town added a little more to its claim to fame. My big brother was one of the arresting officers and has his own stories to share.
But normally it's so quiet here you can hear the crickets chirp and count a sky full of billions of stars.
Tonight I sleep in Coleman's room, with a ceiling decorated with model airplanes and gadgets and gizmos covering the floor. He's nine now and growing so fast, as kids always do. We giggle and laugh as I tell him stories about bears and raccoons in Colorado and his eyes widen and a smirk spreads from check to check when I tell him my only weapon to fight them off is a plunger.
"Oh, Jenny!"
It's good to be here. There's so much to be thankful for. I'm savoring each moment, each story shared and getting soaked in the rain. I knew a month of no rain would eventually catch up...
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Bona fide bad ass.
I reconnected with a friend from another lifetime last night. A world filled with jabs and upper cuts, of pink gloves and sparring matches. Fancy footwork, jumping rope, and exhaling with each punch. Two minute rounds and broken noses. Titles, national championships, world's.
It was so good to see her. We talked non-stop for three hours. Ten years of catching up.
Oh boxing, my first serious athlete pursuit. I miss parts of it, that goes without question. I don't miss the head trauma and injuries. But being that kind of all body fit definitely has its allure. And a lot of the mental fortitude crosses over into competitive cycling.
Ten years.
My head is still spinning from all of the stories we shared. Of all the things we've experienced that shape us into the strong women we are today. She's still heavily involved in the boxing scene. In fact, getting female boxers into the 2012 Olympics is in large part due to her unrelenting efforts. Talk about a bad ass.
The night flew by.
She moved to the Springs at the end of August and I am stoked to have an old friend in the area. Someone who shares an old love and understands the boxing world. Think track cycling is a small niche? Try women's boxing.
And yes, I'm grabbing my wraps and gloves when I come home this week for Thanksgiving....
It was so good to see her. We talked non-stop for three hours. Ten years of catching up.
Oh boxing, my first serious athlete pursuit. I miss parts of it, that goes without question. I don't miss the head trauma and injuries. But being that kind of all body fit definitely has its allure. And a lot of the mental fortitude crosses over into competitive cycling.
Ten years.
My head is still spinning from all of the stories we shared. Of all the things we've experienced that shape us into the strong women we are today. She's still heavily involved in the boxing scene. In fact, getting female boxers into the 2012 Olympics is in large part due to her unrelenting efforts. Talk about a bad ass.
The night flew by.
She moved to the Springs at the end of August and I am stoked to have an old friend in the area. Someone who shares an old love and understands the boxing world. Think track cycling is a small niche? Try women's boxing.
And yes, I'm grabbing my wraps and gloves when I come home this week for Thanksgiving....
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Monsters
They lurk behind a closed cabinet, waiting.
They spring up on you when you least expect it and grab hold so tight it feels like they may never release their grip.
We all have them. The little monsters of self doubt. The demons of self destruction. The wizards that freeze you to inaction.
Why do they hold such power over us?
And why is it the closer you get to a goal, especially big ones, the monsters rear up louder than before? Testing your strength and will to accomplish what you set out to do. Do you listen to them? Do you heed what they say? Or do you take what they say and make it work for you? Do you go somewhere that summons more strength so you can stare those monsters straight in the eye and let them know they hold no power over you?
My personal monsters flared up the other day. The one's that insist I get a serious job. That insist I stop doing what I love and am passionate about all in the name of conventional "happiness." And in the moment when those voices are loudest, they're hard to ignore. But after the simple passage of time, they die down. I regain my strength. I visit powerful places in my head and exorcise what ever may be left.
I am doing what I love. I am living in this moment and I am happy deep down in my bones.
What are your monsters? And how do you fight them?
Differences
I don't mean to rub this in but it hasn't rained here in over a month. Unless you count the snow. Each morning I wake up to brilliant blue skies and a UV level no lower than 3. Yep, that big old dose of Vitamin D does make a difference. Usually I'm singing the blues this time of year - praying for an escape to sunnier locales. Not the case this year.
Granted it is COLD in the mornings. Last night temps dipped to 11 degrees. Moonli crawled between the sheets and refused to get out. It was like waking a dinosaur. He was so sound asleep, snoring up a storm and I couldn't stand it any more. The puppy is LOUD! This morning he gave me a look of "why'd you kick me out? I thought we had something special?"
The sheets went straight into the washing machine.
Makiah is stoked on her long fur coat. It's stained with red rock but she's warm and happy.
I've been going to 24 Hour Fitness twice a week for several weeks now. And every time I'm in there, no matter what time - it is packed. This is one fit city! I got spoiled at Sound Mind and Body when I was one of twelve people in the entire facility. Now I'm one of 50-75. And surrounded by muscles upon muscles. It's inspiring.
I don't wear nearly as much dark clothing as I used to. When I throw on dark jeans, a black shirt and dark sweater I feel out of place. Bring on the color!
My cycling clothing has to be modified. Instead of being dialed for the wet and cold, now I need to dial in clothing for the seriously sub-Arctic temps experienced here on the front range. I can tell you this right now - riding outside after dark is not really an option. I prefer to keep my fingers and toes attached to my body. But I have a secret weapon.
But there are days, several of them, where the daytime temps reach the upper 50's. Combine that with sun and well you've got one happy girl.
Granted it is COLD in the mornings. Last night temps dipped to 11 degrees. Moonli crawled between the sheets and refused to get out. It was like waking a dinosaur. He was so sound asleep, snoring up a storm and I couldn't stand it any more. The puppy is LOUD! This morning he gave me a look of "why'd you kick me out? I thought we had something special?"
The sheets went straight into the washing machine.
Makiah is stoked on her long fur coat. It's stained with red rock but she's warm and happy.
I've been going to 24 Hour Fitness twice a week for several weeks now. And every time I'm in there, no matter what time - it is packed. This is one fit city! I got spoiled at Sound Mind and Body when I was one of twelve people in the entire facility. Now I'm one of 50-75. And surrounded by muscles upon muscles. It's inspiring.
I don't wear nearly as much dark clothing as I used to. When I throw on dark jeans, a black shirt and dark sweater I feel out of place. Bring on the color!
My cycling clothing has to be modified. Instead of being dialed for the wet and cold, now I need to dial in clothing for the seriously sub-Arctic temps experienced here on the front range. I can tell you this right now - riding outside after dark is not really an option. I prefer to keep my fingers and toes attached to my body. But I have a secret weapon.
But there are days, several of them, where the daytime temps reach the upper 50's. Combine that with sun and well you've got one happy girl.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Musings
Teenagers occupy the couches next to me while two women chat it up in the window booth at Marika's coffee house in Manitou. Pearl Jam plays over the stereo and if it were raining outside, I'd swear I was in Seattle. Except I'm not. The air is brisk and smells of wood burning stoves. The wind cuts through my wool layers and I've been stoking the pellet stove every night for the past two weeks.
I picked this seat so I could observe what's going on around me- to soak in the happenings of this little community. I should have gone with the caffeinated version of my drink as I can barely keep up with the whirl of conversations going on around me. It's giving me energy though and for that I'm thankful.
The sun set over the mountains as I walked here - it's 3:15 and already starting to get dark. Being at the base of a fourteener provides multiple reminders a day of who's boss. Yet I couldn't shake this undeniable feeling - the pinch me, I must be dreaming feeling. I've written about living in Colorado for ten years and to have it become a reality still seems like a fantasy.
Now, if I can just figure out some sort of work situation, I think I'll be in business.
I picked this seat so I could observe what's going on around me- to soak in the happenings of this little community. I should have gone with the caffeinated version of my drink as I can barely keep up with the whirl of conversations going on around me. It's giving me energy though and for that I'm thankful.
The sun set over the mountains as I walked here - it's 3:15 and already starting to get dark. Being at the base of a fourteener provides multiple reminders a day of who's boss. Yet I couldn't shake this undeniable feeling - the pinch me, I must be dreaming feeling. I've written about living in Colorado for ten years and to have it become a reality still seems like a fantasy.
Now, if I can just figure out some sort of work situation, I think I'll be in business.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Jiggidy jo jammin- JIVES!
I promised myself that I'd get out in the community more - and Jives is the perfect spot to start. It's located in the new neighborhood we'll be moving to next month and right across the street from the library. They have an open mic night every Wednesday and as soon as I polish one of my short stories, I might find enough courage to tell it in front of an audience.
Big, comfy winged back chairs, the kind you'd find in a study, the Carpenters playing over the stereo, soon to be new neighbors going about their lives.
Wait, hold the phone, you're moving next month?
Yep, you heard that right. Less than a week ago I was on an innocent recovery ride, cruising through Garden of the Gods, down Pikes Peak and saw it - a perfect house for sale. Tons of curb appeal, a fenced back yard, garage (let's be honest - read: bike corral)... it peaked my curiosity. I grabbed a flier, stuffed it in my jersey pocket and forgot about it for a couple of hours. Later that night I showed it to Benjamin.
"That's nice."
The following day I called the relator, scheduled a 11:15 appointment to see it. On a whim, Benjamin decided to join me. Things just fell into place. The interior matches the exterior. Built in 1904, the house retained a lot of its original character - crown moldings, hardwood floors, funky door knobs and thresholds. Except it's been completely updated. Gas stove, stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, honey-comb tiled bathroom with Kohler fixtures, breakfast nook, lots of storage, more storage, a full basement.
We. Fell. In. Love.
Less than a hour later, I called the relator back and started to get mortgage broker numbers. Two hours later after a pre approval, we put an offer down on the house. Later that night the seller had another offer. Because of our timing, we were given priority and the following morning we found out the seller accepted it! And we've been over the moon ever since.
Big, comfy winged back chairs, the kind you'd find in a study, the Carpenters playing over the stereo, soon to be new neighbors going about their lives.
Wait, hold the phone, you're moving next month?
Yep, you heard that right. Less than a week ago I was on an innocent recovery ride, cruising through Garden of the Gods, down Pikes Peak and saw it - a perfect house for sale. Tons of curb appeal, a fenced back yard, garage (let's be honest - read: bike corral)... it peaked my curiosity. I grabbed a flier, stuffed it in my jersey pocket and forgot about it for a couple of hours. Later that night I showed it to Benjamin.
"That's nice."
The following day I called the relator, scheduled a 11:15 appointment to see it. On a whim, Benjamin decided to join me. Things just fell into place. The interior matches the exterior. Built in 1904, the house retained a lot of its original character - crown moldings, hardwood floors, funky door knobs and thresholds. Except it's been completely updated. Gas stove, stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, honey-comb tiled bathroom with Kohler fixtures, breakfast nook, lots of storage, more storage, a full basement.
We. Fell. In. Love.
Less than a hour later, I called the relator back and started to get mortgage broker numbers. Two hours later after a pre approval, we put an offer down on the house. Later that night the seller had another offer. Because of our timing, we were given priority and the following morning we found out the seller accepted it! And we've been over the moon ever since.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Catch up
The book is coming along. I've been busy working on it for the past few weeks along with training and with the change of daylight savings it feels like the days are whizzing by. I suppose they always do, especially once Halloween has come and gone and the holidays on its tail.
The intro came to me today like a light bulb being illuminated. It is so powerful.
More to come - life is whirling right now!
The intro came to me today like a light bulb being illuminated. It is so powerful.
More to come - life is whirling right now!
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