sunset

My mom-mom passed away in late January of 2008. After the funeral mass, my friend Neen handed me a card. On the front of it was a photo of a sunset. She went on to explain the significance of the photo. It was very special to her because it was taken the evening her friend Rob’s dad died. It was his sunset.

And these were her words:

I am not sure where or how to begin to tell you I know your pain, your loss. I know how very special your mom-mom was to you...so in this most difficult time, know that I am here for you. Embrace all her beautiful memories...hold them close. Laugh. Cry...cherish her impact on your heart, your soul, your life. And know I am here...to be your friend...to offer a hug.

This is Neen’s sunset...

She was the only friend who came to the funeral. During the months prior to my mom-mom’s passing, there were several afternoons when we would meet for tea and talk about the hurt and loss I was feeling at the time. The week after the funeral I went to her house for tea. I brought her flowers and a piece of folded up paper. The paper was the original copy of "pay it forward" something I had written and read from the altar at the funeral. Of all the words/things I have written, that is what I am most proud of....and I know that she loved me for giving it to her and I loved her for being exactly what I needed her to be during a time when I felt lost.

And so I will embrace all the memories of Neen. I will hold them close. Laugh. Cry...cherish her impact on my heart, my soul, my life.  

“That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.”

- William Wordsworth

two parts

The phrase "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem" has been around since 1967. I like it. I like it a lot. And, while I don’t necessarily consider myself to be the solution to any problem, I am far from being part of the problem.

Recently, I have struggled with my surroundings. I guess you could say that “the problem” is causing a problem for me. I feel overexposed to excess and waste. It bothers me. It also makes me feel isolated to a certain degree because the people around me don’t seem to take issue with it.

There are even people in my own life, people whom I care about, who are part of the problem...and I don’t know what to do with this.

Sometimes, it would be nice to share a knowing glance with someone else who gets it; someone who is on the same page as me. I’m not saying that my book is any better than yours. I’m just saying that most days, it feels like it’s a little bit different.

freedom tour

Since my mental implosion at the Giro Del Cielo, I’ve been working with a coach on some crit specific skills. The sessions have boosted my confidence. Mentally, I’m back to the same place I was prior to the Ronde Van Mullica, so I decided to give it a go at the Freedom Tour.

There were only eight women pre-registered for the race. On the drive to Stirling I received word from a friend that she wouldn’t be able to make it. I arrived to find that another rider was not coming as well.

Six of us lined up for the final race of the day. Even though the field size was small, I entered with the mindset that every race is an opportunity to learn and gain experience. This was a chance to work on cornering and sprinting skills, which forced me into a position that I’ve yet to get comfortable in...the drops.

When the bell rang for the first prime, the pace picked up a bit, and then settled down once we crossed the line. On the second prime, two riders went off the front and just kept going. I made an attempt to close the gap, but failed. From that point on, I knew it would be a sprint for third and I knew which rider it would be against.

The bell rang for the final lap and I was on the front. I tried not to go too hard too soon (already learned my lesson there), but waited until the final turn, which was about 300 meters from the finish line. My first real sprint, in the drops put me across the line in third place. I even won a prime!

one day

One day you will wake up and realize that you’ve been listening to the same six cds in your car for the past year...and you will throw them away.

One day you will wake up and realize that you are ok...and you might wonder why it has taken you so long to get this place. 

But then you’ll realize that it doesn’t really matter how long it took, you’re just happy that you’re here.

It’s amazing what we can endure.

The Tumbleweave Diaries

the places no one wants to go

Saturday...I woke up early, to the sound of the rain. There have been times when I’ve been caught in a storm on a trail, but I’ve never voluntarily hiked in the rain. I poured my coffee, found something appropriate to wear and hopped in the car. The parking lot was empty, which came as no surprise. I walked for an hour, turned around and walked back. I didn’t see anyone. 

It wasn’t particularly comfortable to walk in the rain for two hours, but I did it. We all have places (physically, mentally and emotionally) we’d rather not go. Lately, I’ve been challenging myself to go to these places. 

On the drive home, the sun peeked through the clouds. It turned out to be a pretty nice day after all.

NJ State Road Race Championship

The NJ State Road Race Championship consisted of two, twenty-two mile laps for a total of forty-four miles. I started the race in an unfamiliar place...on the front. My legs were feeling pretty decent, but I quickly realized that forty-four miles is a long time. So, I alternated between riding mid-pack and then drilling it on the front.  

I was on the front when we came to an intersection at around mile twenty. Unfortunately, I only got half of the turn correct and steered off course, taking a good portion of the field with me. We turned around and time trialed to catch back on. The lead car was in sight and so was the field. They were no more than 100 meters away, far enough back to watch a crash unfold. The rider who went down was a friend of mine from another team. Prior to the start of the race, I told her where my phone and ID were and she told me where hers were. I stayed with her until someone arrived to take her and her bike back to the parking lot.

I rode back up to the start/finish line and found her teammates. An ambulance was called and she was taken to the hospital. While I was packing up and changing at my car, a guy who rides for another local team rolled up. I asked him how he did and he responded that he came in third. He seemed somewhat disappointed by this so I questioned him. He told me that if he had had another fifty meters he could have won. My friend just left in an ambulance and here he was, complaining about fifty meters. I congratulated him and headed off to watch the conclusion of the race.

Two of my friends from NY (Innervation Fitness/Stan’s No Tubes) crossed the line in first and second place. A local rider who I have become friendly with in the past year crossed the line in third. She was the first NJ rider, which earned her the State Champion’s Jersey. All three women are incredibly hard workers and it was great to see them on the podium.

It was time to move on to bigger and better things, namely the celebration of National Ice Cream Day and a swim in the ocean with my NY buddies.

On the drive home, I thought about the day and the friendships that I have made this season. I tried to explain it to someone a few weeks ago, how fortunate I feel for having so many good things come my way. I just hope that I'm doing my part to show others my gratitude.

99 Problems

I start a new training block every six weeks. It includes workout descriptions, which are fairly straightforward, but there is usually one that I cannot successfully complete on the first attempt.

On occasion, there is a workout that takes multiple attempts to figure out. Such is the case right now. I’ve been unsuccessful in determining the correct gear and cadence to hit my target. It’s not that I’m physically unable to perform the task; it’s just a matter of figuring out how to do it.

It requires a certain amount of patience on my part. I’ve conceded to the fact that I’m not going to nail every workout the first time around. After all, this is still new to me. There is a sense of accomplishment when I figure it out, especially the more challenging ones.

Recently, I was reminded that sometimes, life can feel like an endless training block.  There are going to be obstacles placed in my way that I’ll be unable to get over on the first attempt. Eventually, I will figure it out and will be a better person for having done so.

Sometimes people will look at your obstacle and not understand why it is so difficult for you to overcome because they were able to figure it out on the first attempt. That may frustrate them more than it frustrates you. Sometimes people will be impatient. What they don’t realize is that this impatience denies you of the room you need to grow.

Eventually, I figure it out. I always do. Sometimes it takes a little longer, but I’m thankful for the people in my life who give me the space I need to grow and trust that I will eventually get it right.

stripped

A year and five months later, I got the call I had been waiting for. It’s created an aching in my soul, even worse than the hurt my heart felt all those months ago.

There is something about being in nature that makes me feel vulnerable. Being able to share those experiences with someone who appreciated them just as much as I did is something I will cherish forever.

And so, every trail I hike, every sunset I watch, and every star filled sky I lay beneath will not be without a thought of her.

There is a part of me that is missing. I think it might always be that way, but I’d prefer to live with that emptiness rather than fill it with something that doesn’t make my soul content.

old ways

Today I visited an old, familiar place. It was the Turnpike North to the Parkway South. I walked on trails I have not been on for a few years. I listened to songs I have forbidden myself from listening to. I allowed myself to feel whatever I needed to feel at the moment. 

It was a privilege I granted myself for coming this far. Sometimes, remembering the way you were helps you to appreciate the person you have become.

Truth

I love you like I love the destruction of the wind and the rain.

I love you like I love the beauty of the sunset and the stars at night.
I love you like I love all things in nature, the good and the bad,

unconditionally and without question; this is love in its purest form.

becoming whole

I was raised Catholic. I went to Catholic Grammar School, Catholic High School and a Catholic University. I went to church on Sunday and Holy Days. In college, I went to evening mass three nights a week. My faith was something that I never questioned. The Catholic Church was something that I never questioned.

After graduate school, I fell out of the routine of going to mass. Part of this was because I was removed from the University setting, where mass was catered to a younger crowd. The other part was because I began to struggle with being gay and Catholic.

At the time, stories of priest sexual abuse were all over the news. It made me realize that the church was an imperfect institution at best.

This internal struggle went on for several years until I finally arrived at a place where I felt peace with my decision to completely abandon the notion of organized religion. It was rooted in my appreciation for nature and love of the outdoors.

Last weekend I got in the Jeep and drove to Brendan T. Byrne State Forest. I drove there in silence, hiked a few hours on the Batona Trail and drove home in silence. These are the experiences which make me whole, in contrast to the church, where all I found was a forum that divided.

Pawling Mountain Road Race

4:00AM is the time you need to wake up in order to drive three hours to Pawling New York, suffer on your bike for two hours, and then drive home. 

The Pawling Mountain (Did I mention the word mountain?) Road Race was just less than forty miles in length with about 3650 feet of climbing.

The Cat 4 Women and Masters 35+ (my field) raced together. It was a group of about fifty women, tightly packed until the first climb, a Category 3, which was 2.63 miles in length. My first thought was “Wow, this sucks.” My second thought was “Wow, I get to do this again on the second lap.”

After the first climb, the field spread out into a few different groups, with single riders strung out in between. I was unfortunate enough to be one of the single riders and it remained that way for most of the race. On the first descent I caught someone and we worked together until the second climb, then she fell off. That would be the only rider I saw for miles...and miles.

It was definitely a unique experience to be out there on my own, having no idea who was in front of me, who was behind me and by how much. I wavered from full on Time Trial mode to spinning it up the hills at a moderate pace. By the second climb of the last lap, all I wanted was to be finished. It was almost ninety degrees and that was the closest I’ve felt to dying on my bike.

I crossed the line, without knowing how many people had finished ahead of me and how many people were still on the road. The results were posted shortly thereafter and I made sure I was there to check them right away...another sixth place finish, but this one feels even more earned than the last, after all the suffering I endured during my first Mountain (Did I mention the word mountain?) Road Race.

“Those things that hurt, instruct.”

- Benjamin Franklin

Chesco Road Race Part Deux

After the race, I cooled down and made my way back to the finish line to look for my friend from another team who had fallen off the back during the second lap. We chatted; I got changed, grabbed a drink and walked to the trailer where the results were posted.

My name was not on the results sheet. A man instructed me to speak with the officials. I gave them my name and bib number. They told me I had finished in 16^th place (five riders after my friend who had gotten dropped). I informed them that this was not correct. They were angry at this remark and said they would fix it, but it would take a while. Twenty minutes later, I walked back and the same results sheet (without my name on it) was posted.

Two women from my race were standing nearby and spoke to an official on my behalf. Once again, she assured me that they would fix the error, but that it was going to take some time. I never saw an official results sheet with my name on it so I felt confident she’d honor her word.

She didn’t. So, I emailed the promoter of the race. Based on what I have heard about his reputation, I don’t expect to hear back from him. For the money I paid to enter the race, asking the officials to get the finishing order correct doesn’t seem unreasonable.

There was a photographer at the finish line. Today I looked at the race photos, which again confirmed my placement. This was my best result so far, one that would have earned me an upgrade point or two. It would have been nice to see that on paper. Hopefully, I can make that happen this weekend in New York.

6th place finish Chesco Road Race

Chesco Road Race

This was my first race outside of the fine state of NJ. It was a 13.2 mile loop, which we completed twice for a total of 26.4 miles.

Last night I was talking to my teammate, Lauren, about carpooling. We went on to discuss what color sports bras and socks we’d wear, and what we planned on eating after the race. While other teams were most likely discussing tactics or the course profile, we had the important things covered.

The NJ races draw the same teams week after week, so it was nice to see some new faces in the field of about twenty women.

We started off slowly and I found myself frequently tapping the brakes. There were several “rolling hills” and one big climb near the finish line. I spent most of the race somewhere in the back, staying hydrated and watching how the other women climbed. Half way into the second lap, I knew where I wanted to be for the finish and got myself into position at the final turn. From there, it was all up hill. I popped it into the little ring and started to pick up the pace, picking off riders one by one...and then, I sprinted...or at least I did what I thought was a sprint, for a 6^th place finish...my best result so far.

The highlight of the day was the Victory Brewing Company, Brewpub on Wheels, which was serving Victory Root Beer on tap. Lauren and I grabbed a cold one, sat in the shade and discussed our next adventure, The Pawling Mountain Road Race this Sunday...I’m baking brownies and we’re wearing our honey badger socks.

forty feet in the air

This is the walk to work...

 

Today, I worked 40 feet in the air, on the zip line platform. A group of about 45 middle school students came to play with us at Ironwood Outdoor Center.

This is my second year working the platform. Ninety percent of the time, the first thing I hear is that they can’t do it because they’re scared. One after the other, all day long...I can’t...It’s too high...I want to get down...I’m afraid...AND one after the other, they go...eventually they go...some take longer than others, but they all go...AND, even if only a handful of them look back on the experience and realize that they did something they thought they couldn’t do, it makes my job at 40 feet in the air well worth it.

“What is the biggest personal problem people have in this world? Lack of self-realization. Because of lack of self-realization, you always underestimate yourself. You’re never too old, never too bad, never too late and never too sick to start from the scratch once again.”

- Bikram

Driving North

It was 5 o’clock on Saturday afternoon when I unplugged. Nothing was so important that it couldn’t wait a day or two. The cooler was filled with grilled chicken, fruits and a freshly baked batch of sweet potato brownies. The jeep was filled with a few toys, recently purchased for my upcoming trip to Glacier National Park and in need of a field test.

I had been to Hickory Run State Park several times before and it was a familiar place, which made it perfect for my first solo camping adventure. I arrived shortly before 8pm, set up camp, and then headed out for a drive on 80 West in search of root beer. The sun had set and in the distance, the sky was painted with fireworks displays from neighboring towns. 

Sleep was surprisingly comfortable on my stoic sleeping pad. Hopefully it will feel the same way during the week in Glacier. Breakfast was fruit and coffee ala jet boil java kit. One thing I won’t compromise on, even when camping, is coffee. The new tent came down without a hitch and I headed for the boulder field. 

The field comprises about 720,000 square feet (67,000 m2) (16.5 acres (6.7 ha) or 0.026 square miles (0.067 km2)) in area (1,800 feet (550 m) east-west by 400 feet (120 m) north-south) and was created by periglacial activity during the Ice Age. In other words, it’s HUGE AMOUNT OF REALLY OLD ROCKS. 

I walked far enough out so that the sounds of screaming children could not be heard, made myself comfortable and basked in the sun for a while. The drive home was filled with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small step, but a step nonetheless toward my goal of solo hike on the AT in September.