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.

60 Days

It came on like a light bulb when I was at the grocery store, wandering the aisles looking for canned pumpkin. I had spent the morning feeling the same familiar sense of emptiness over current events in my life. Earlier, I found myself asking these questions: Where is the solution? What is the lesson?

It all seemed like an ongoing train of the same thing, traveling in a circle and passing me by, over and over.

And then it dawned on me - why not give this a deadline? So simple. I can speak that language and deadlines keep me on track. I started today.
60 days seems like a good and fair number to give thought to any challenge or potential life-change. There is no need to burn down Rome today, or tomorrow or next week. Put that fight vs. flight thing back in the closet and allow sane thoughts to prevail.
Having a time-line is so much better than just bumping along on a seemingly aimless road, hoping that one day things might change or magically get better. Or in my case, bolting just because that is what I've always done.
I've been doing stuff on auto pilot for a long time and perhaps it is time to attract better energy into my life. Habits are powerful and it is time to do a reset.

The plan is to keep a pulse on a daily basis, checking in on myself a few times a day to monitor where I am with my thoughts, my heart. Keeping a daily journal during this time, even if it’s just a sentence or two to describe the experience of the day. Notate if it was positive or negative. How did it feel and what did I do to take care of myself that day?
I also included a list of questions that I want to get answered during these two months. This is very important.

At the end of that 60 day period, It will be time for me to address the issue that has prevented me from moving forward. I’ll be able to go through my journal to see if I have been able to get unstuck or if a solution is presenting itself on the horizon. Is it tolerable? Time to change? Will it be time for a plan B? Or move steadily ahead with where I am at in the process? Either way, I think I’ll be in more of an informed position to make a move.

It's a promise to myself to stop wasting my power.

DIRTY KANZA 200

http://www.dirtykanza200.com/registration/

I'll be curious to see who signs up for the 200 tomorrow morning. I have a feeling it will sell out quickly this year. I've got a big ol' thing for this event and the people around it and I am especially in love with the town of Emporia.
When it comes to riding gravel and the people who do it, the vibe is like no other that you are going to find in the bike world. It's a rural/punk type of thing... kind of like the mountain bike scene, but with mutton chops and more of a long-haul trucker flavor. I think that's the best way I can describe it. It's a place where the guys who look like rugby players from the turn of the last century can still rule the day. Some of the characters that you meet out on these epic trails and b roads are bigger than life and add to the fun and great sense of community that gravel grinding is becoming known for. Long story short... it's special. The Dirty Kanza is special. The people make it that way and I hope it never changes.

I showed up for the first time a couple of years ago to do the 100. This was after a car wreck ended my triathlon season. Fate is kind of funny like that. It will push you in directions you never thought about for yourself. This was the start of my cycling career... and what better for a big-ass crunchy case of whiplash than training and racing on every gravel road you can find?  Just pop the ibuprofen and go! With less than two months to switch my legs and my brain over to 100 miles of gravel, I defected in a huge way and never looked back.

As a side note, I am known far and wide for my ability to get flat tires... anywhere, anytime, triple kevlar, tubeless - doesn't matter.  Dirty Kanza photographer, Jason Eberts captures the DK100 version of this phenomena here: http://www.tblphotography.com/blog/2013/6/dirty-kanza-200-2013

The following year, I stepped up to the 200. I was out in the elements all of the winter of 2014 putting the miles in. Layer upon layer of base riding got stacked up like cord wood in preparation for this deal. A few early season gravel century races gave me confidence that I would be able to make my first DK200 a good one. As mid-spring hit, work had started to compete for my time - lots of it. So, in my typical fashion I gave both my job and training all that I had (afterburners on, aimed at wall, full speed ahead).  I learned some things in 2014. I learned that sometimes, the best laid plans won't prevent things from falling apart. You give it your all and accept the outcome... whatever it is.  More often than not, you aren't going to make it to the podium and the personal race inside of your heart and your mind has got to be good enough. 

I made it to Emporia on fumes that weekend and toed the line on Saturday morning alongside everyone else knowing that I had a long day ahead of me. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and I knew that I was not going to be able to race this thing the way I had planned. I had accepted all of this and put it to bed in the days before. The only thing I wanted from this experience was to finish it, ride within myself and simply make it to the end. That mental re-set was what I needed to get out there on one of the most glorious prairie spring mornings you could hope for and celebrate the simple act of being alive and turning the cranks.

At 6:00 AM, the gun went off and uncharacteristically for me, I went out at a cautious pace, careful to not burn any matches if I could help it, so early in the day. I knew I was going to need each and every one of them on the final quarter and I was rewarded with the finish 20 hours later.
I'll write about this experience, the training and I'll even throw my insane obsession with TIRES into the ring (yeah... it's a problem) in the weeks to come. Just in time for DK fever. Better late than never.

New Years Day

To say that 2014 was the year of change for me is an understatement. It has been amazing and painful and epic.
Everything in my world shifted, from relationships to jobs and conquering physical feats considered insane by most. It was a roller coaster ride of emotional upheaval and lessons learned. It was the year to see what I was made of.

The low points

I left a good, good man. After 18 years, I loaded everything into a moving truck, without a job, little money and a future sitting on scary shifting sands, I held my breath and jumped into the unknown. We grew apart. No one is to blame. The restlessness that sits just under my surface would not let me sail into the ether. No amount of counseling can rectify something like that. It was and is heart-breaking and It is really that simple.

I went into seclusion. It has not been easy. I have doubted myself and doubted everyone else. I went into the mode that I go into when everything is out of control. I hole up and stop answering the phone. I have been forcing myself back out there… and it is getting easier.

Highlights

Dirty Kanza 200. I finished one of the most grueling 200 mile gravel bike races in North America and I did it after being driven hard, for months at my job. I showed up that morning worn-out after a nearly 80 hour work week and wasn’t even sure if I could finish… racing it was out of the question. I decided to stay within myself and was able to complete the task I had spent so much time training for.
Logging over 5000 miles on my bikes and continuing to train for the (24) races I had set within my sights at the end of 2013. 2014 was a bucket list year, I had waited a long time for it and nothing was going to stop that train from leaving the station. Maybe I’m stubborn… ok, yeah, I AM stubborn and I had always put everything and everyone else first before this point. 2014 was going to be my year… and that is exactly what I ended up making it. From gravel grinders to mountain bike racing and crits to cyclo cross, I rode my guts out until there was nothing but fumes at the end of the season.

I voiced and took what I needed emotionally, a first for me. I went for it.

Leaving my job after 9 years. The time was up and honestly it had been for a few years. A necessary move for sure.

I learned how to sit in the room and really listen.

I learned that you are never too old to learn amazing new lessons. The most important lesson of all.