We're all gonna die...

Watching the snow flurries starting to happen from my loft window. The downtown airport from across the river is becoming white. Been in bed for the better part of 17 hours and now it is time to come up and eat even if I don’t really want to. Pneumonia. Been a long time since I’ve been laid this low. I guess, when I go into the abyss, I go all in. Much like the rest of the areas of my life, all in. WFO. That’s me.

And I am learning that it’s ok that I have these great big old backwoods-french-swamp-child passion-fueled intense emotions. It is who I am. I make no apologies. And so far, they haven’t killed me. I just need to be more careful about where I let them run loose to play.  Yeah, definitely not dead yet.

Just Ride

I said I was going to stop blogging for a while. I lied. Sue me...

I wanted this to be about cycling, racing, writing about what my over-50-year-old body was still capable of doing. I wanted to talk about tires, bikes and gear… to geek-out on data and training segments.  You know, light fare. And as interesting as all of these adventures have been and as important as they are to this crack-headed-madhouse of a story… they are taking a backseat to what has really been going on. I am going through a big loss and it seems to be hijacking my ability to spin a tale about rolling over rattle snakes in some wind-driven gravel race in far-off Western Kansas. I am walking through this grief head-on and letting it wash over me, wave after wave. I am allowing it. I am accepting it. I no longer fear it. And there is nothing I can do but wait for the blessed relief that comes with time.
I am sure as time marches forward and I find a footing in this new life, that my desire to tell these stories will return but for now, the internal stuff is all I can see.
The thing about the kind of grief that makes you want to tear your teeth out is that it also has the power to transform. It changes you forever and really, you are the one who gets to decide whether you are going to clear your heart of the toxins or not. Personally, I want to continue to be that resilient older gal who shows up for #Streetcred with the wild-ass grin on my face... maybe with a little more soul, a few more silver hairs and a deeper understanding of my landscape.
There have been two other junctions in my life where I have undergone such a major transformation. I think this one may be the biggest in the respect that I feel like I am coming to the end of a lifelong cycle that has held me back… and while I grieve, I am also coming to accept some pretty bent parts of myself.

I am going to have to discover what my new normal is and one thing is a fact, it ain't my grandma's normal.

The other part of this is finding home. I don't know where that is anymore. I can feel traces of it off in the distance but it isn't for me to know yet. I know that the next chapter is going to be huge and I'm going to be ready for it. So in the meantime, until that is revealed, I'll keep clearing my heart and I'll just ride.

Why

the doctor was in

Got up from my fetal position long enough to go outside, drive through the snarled traffic and sit with a good friend for several hours, over jasmine tea and drunken noodles, then coffee and carrot cake and then finally herbal tea. I was able to breath in and breath out … come up to the subject every half hour, examine whether I was able to talk about it or not… back off, breath… look into another set of eyes that understood the wreckage… breath some more until I was able to gain composure. This was my first time meeting him face to face although we have been friends for about a year now.

The first thing he said when I came into the restaurant was that “The doctor is in” and for the next 6 hours, the doctor was in. We shared stories of life history. I told the stories that I was able to tell. The ones that wouldn’t make me fly apart. He told some of loss that made me have to catch my breath. 6 hours later, I was able to return to my place and sleep. Sleep hard and long through the rest of the night.

Three things that he pointed out to me... I’m not wearing a bathrobe with 3-day-old wine stains running down the front, I am brushing my teeth, I am making my bed. Additionally, and to my credit, the coffee stain on the kitchen floor is really bugging me.

The Journey. Through the middle of it, I ride.