For the first time in 33yrs….¬†

For the first time in 33 yrs, I am not a horse owner.  

Bizarre, sad, weird, ok, numb and also good with letting go for now.  

A few weeks ago, I officially sold Maximus aka Max, my max.  Let go to the wonderful girl who has fallen in love with him the past few years while we got settled here.  

So now he is not mine.  The dreams I had for him had been fading for years.  Not his fault, he was a brilliant charming gorgeous boy.  I have just been slipping off the horse and dressage world radar honestly since about the time Sullivan was born.

I loved the idea of what I might do with him “someday”.  This idea was precious piece of the girl who once 110% believed she would ride in the Olympics someday.  The girl who was “good enough” of a rider and horseman to become the top in her sport.   

Having 3 kids definitely changed my level of commitment.  I was honestly not comfortable having them in the barn or toddling around horses at all.  If they did I was hiding my inner freak out.  Keeping them safe from my silly unpredictable horses also disengaged me from that connection I had had since I was 10.  I kept at it and tried to ride but never showed again.  My big sweet oaf of a dressage horse Cassius died.  His buddy Endeavor died.  I had stopped riding much the past year already, but that left a gaping hole in my spirit period.  Hard to resurrect that desperate to ride feeling I always had before. 

Max was already in training, when Cassius died, so he became my Oldenburg dressage hopeful… that I had bred and raised on an agreement with a friend.  He earned a Premium foal award at his inspection at just 3 months old, after my big oaf had run him through a barbwire fence.  He was special.  Adorable.  Incredible face, lovey, fancy.  Out of a fancy TB mare I found being ignored  in a recipient mare herd.  By a solid stallion, Mannhattan.   A few weeks younger than Izzy, my second daughter.  I was so excited they could grow up together, and maybe they would ride him and crush their local junior competition lol. 


7 yr old max in training in Colo


max n I when he was a baby:-)

Alas the kids loved horses.  But they never LOVED horses.  Not the sneak out to take naps with em or find a way to climb on and explore  kind of love.  That’s what I had, they did not.  I refused to push my passion on them.  It wasn’t their thing, it was all around em and they just didn’t care.  I will never regret that.   I am grateful that they got to be raised around horses and learn to ride and see foals born and barn life.  They will always understand that kind of life at their core. And perhaps one day it will call them back.   

I fell in love with running and triathlon.  I could control my results.  Train hard and race and your time was your time.  With horse showing, it was always uh, tricky to get the horse to show the way they trained.  A challenge I loved, but it seemed like I always had the horses who just hated a showring.  I started to prefer just training, clinics, lessons, training training for the love of it.  Desire to be judged fading. And with the growing demands of kids, training and businesses, it just went away…. The desire just a glimmer.  

Years went by and we decided to move to Bend.  I sent Max to a girl who knew dressage but also would spend time on mtn trails and just loving on him and keeping him healthy in Colorado.  It was temporary because I knew we needed to see where we were at time and $$ wise before bringing him here.  

She was in love with him and was crushed when the time came to bring him here, his new home.  I imagined how I would feel riding around here, how I would honestly find time.  Would I? Or would I find excuses and feel guilty everyday? When he was in my backyard I didn’t ride him.  Maybe 3x/yr.  seriously.  

I stalled for TEN more months and finally decided offer him to her.  She could say no and that would be good.  She could say yes and buy him and that would also be good.   Don’t know what I really wanted.  But she said yes.  When I got her excited over the moon happy voicemail I burst into sobs.  All the emotion I’ve held onto for these years of horses loved and lost and dreams come and gone, but somewhat still there… Just rolled together into a big old cryfest.  It was done. Max gets to stay in his home, the one he knows now, looking at the Rockies everyday.  

I didn’t even tell anyone for over a week. 

My mom and Patrick.  That’s it, now you all here.  

 It was the right thing to do for our lives as they are, not easy but right. And I am happy for him, for her and even me, to be without a horse, officially.  Less to wonder about right now.  I feel somehow I will go horse shopping one day.  Buy meself a fancy big one that has the moves already lol.  

But for now I will keep riding my bikes named after horses ha.  And keep my horse art all around me, and keep watching dressage videos and olympics and cheering for my friends still immersed, even Patrick still owns his special guy FarmCat, so there’s that… ūüôā 

I can’t say the end, I just can’t.  Maybe I’m just waiting to be a long gray braided hair eccentric dressage lady… Won’t Patrick be thrilled lol.  

max and his momma

Eye for an Eye?

‚ÄúAn eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.‚ÄĚ
Mahatma Gandhi

First I would love to share this video with you, to give you some context as to what got my mind going for today’s post.

I wrote this when I share it on my FB wall…

I watched this video with so many emotions. first, imagining losing Sullivan, at that age, or any of my children.. and in the way those parents did.
Then huge admiration and support for how she chose to honor her grief and son. Not by inciting more violence, not by arming herself, giving in to fear that so many want us to grab on to, not by seeking revenge and hate. No, she gave the gift of her son’s joy in triathlon to other kids. She gave the gift of running to herself and others. A nurturing, a love, a forward moving kind of grief that will not send us all backwards. This is the kind of answer we MUST lean towards in response to violent people, and violent tragedies. We CAN shift the momentum.

So here’s the thing. ¬†What if we all pressed on and just spread exponentially more goodness and love in the face of violent acts? ¬†Like a virus?! ¬†What if we REFUSED to buy in to the keeping ourselves safe with threats of violence toward any potential offender, and instead carried ourselves with peace, expecting the best and most likely, odds on, getting the best from people all around us? ¬†What if we found ways to forgive and move forward and not feel like it is our job to make sure someone pays be returning the violence ourselves,¬†¬†for the damage they have caused- thus making us no better than them? ¬† I wonder how different the world would be raising generations in a climate like this.

My mom was beaten bloody many times¬†by my step dad, a few stood out more than others because I was a witness, but usually we were hiding, afraid and ashamed that we couldn’t help. ¬†He broke her ribs while she was like 8 or 9months pregnant with my brother. ¬†He beat her and chased her to empty his rage onto her face while I was still just in 5th grade. ¬†It continued through the years middle school and early high school. ¬†In and out of our lives he went, but the control he had was undeniable. ¬†There were ok times, even good times, because as kids you just wanted it all to be ok. ¬†You wanted peace. You wanted smiles and ‘normal’. ¬†We held onto those times, and braced for the next…

I felt hate, pure unadulterated hate. The, ¬†if I ever had a gun I would shoot him in the face at least once kind of rage. ¬†Instead of doing that, I got straight A’s. I adored my teachers, found friends parents to show me how it should be. ¬†I tried to protect my mom, but how? ¬†Called the cops so many times.. the same cops. ¬†Small town. Imagine. ¬†Who knew? who didn’t know what stories we hid at school? ¬† The system would let him go every time because she couldn’t bring herself to testify. ¬†Surely he would kill her if she did. ¬†I so desperately wanted to kill him for her, for us.

Our family never had a gun. ¬†If we had, she might have been dead. ¬†If we had, we all might have been dead. ¬†If we had, I’m pretty sure I would have become a murderer. ¬†I would have changed my life in an instant for a moment of pain relief. ¬†Maybe my mom would have killed him, though she just doesn’t have that kind of bone in her body. ¬†Then we could have been orphans. ¬†And why not just kill him in another way? well that would have been scary, too personal, too much danger, too much planning, too sadistic and evil, and we weren’t that. ¬†But a gun would be just SO easy. pull the trigger. No touching. No moment to take it back. ¬†It’s done. I could maybe even pretend I didn’t do it. ¬†Literally no blood on my hands. ¬† I had an imaginary line in my head. ¬†Like IF he ever touched me or my sister or brother.. That would be it, not sure if it meant i’d actually try to find a gun since we didn’t have one? How many kids right now are in this same situation? ¬†But have no connection to anything good, like friends, school, and for me I even relied heavily on my horse as a major source of comfort and release.

 You see, there is no scenario where a gun anywhere would have been any sort of answer whatsoever for our family. I GET to have an opinion on this that many do not understand.  I honestly believe I would not be here typing this now from this place in my life with a family I adore and a stance on violence that has changed over time.

I never would have been given the chance to forgive the person that was a dad of sorts to me. ¬†The person who is my brother’s father. ¬†Major flaws for sure, major major mistakes, major demons we will never understand, but did he deserve to die for them? ¬†by my hand? ¬† I don’t even know where he is or care, but do know his life is missing a lot that it could have been. ¬†He isn’t thriving, but has made a life I’m sure and I¬†truly hope hasn’t continued the pattern that he had with us. ¬†I’m sure somehow he has maybe even made positive impacts on people’s lives I never knew.

Then there is the story of my dad, my actual father. Living and working in Alaska, a place he loved, in a remote area close to an amazing river outside of Fairbanks. ¬†One day a stranger came around harassing a neighbor and her cats, menacing with 2 shotguns. ¬†A loner from Chicago. ¬†My dad got him away from her and all we know is she heard maybe 8¬†shots. ¬†No One ever saw my dad again. ¬†Cops checked on his cabin, found blood at the door and appearing in footprints in the snow as they walked. ¬†The stranger still at his cabin, said he had skinned a moose and they let him go. ¬†He killed 10 more people over the next two weeks, including an unborn child, dumping many of the bodies in the river. ¬†His final murder was a cop in the helicopter that found him. ¬† They responded by opening fire and killing him in his boat. ¬†I found out about his death when I was 10, my grandpa, his dad, flew to our home in Nebraska for a visit, and to tell us. ¬†How does someone my age and my sisters age even begin to comprehend what that meant? ¬†How it happened? ¬†What did I feel? ¬†I can hardly remember. ¬†I remember feeling maybe glad the guy was stopped and dead? ¬†But I’m not sure. ¬†Would I want him alive in jail right now? Still not sure. ¬†Once you don’t have to make a decision it is hard to know what you would REALLY feel. ¬†Of course, he was a psycopath, the rare kind of person of movie horror. ¬†He wasn’t representative of real life dangers. ¬†Of course I do think living in Alaska, one might really consider having a gun for protection from the off people who gravitate to the isolation up there, ¬†but then I still don’t know if I would? maybe from wildlife? ¬†It’s still not cut and dry to me. ¬†My dad was a peaceful person. ¬†He photographed wildlife, he didn’t shoot them. ¬†He tried to reason with a crazy person, lost his life for it. And I will not blame him for not having his own weapon and killing the madman himself. ¬†Who really knows how that scenario would have gone.

So when I type in random posts that I don’t like violence, I despise guns, how easy and detached they are to use, how their only purpose is to end a life when used. ¬†It’s a feeling that has just grown over time, and I think there are far superior answers to violence than by feeling the need to carry and stash em “for my protection”, know that it comes from a place of I would have if I could have once upon a time. ¬†I also know what it is like to have family killed by with a gun by a deranged sociopath. ¬† Do not bash me for being peaceful after all of this. ¬†Do not argue with me because I refuse to arm up and be ready twitchy gun finger to kill someone who may be a threat. ¬†I just don’t think most¬†of us really understand what it means. ¬†Not sure at the end of this post what my point is. ¬†It’s not like the world is reading. ¬†Maybe it’s just to maybe consider loving more, reacting with fear, revenge and hate less. ¬†Finding a calm place inside. ¬†To allow each of us their journey to this place, because essentially we all have our own stories that shape how we feel. ¬†I would love to push against all things guns, but it is not realistic. ¬†I can only hope to maybe start to help people shift their hearts so that the fascination and feeling they are necessary to survival begins to fade, before they are faced with the ultimate loss or choice or mistake.

It took me days to hit publish on this. ¬†Deleting, rewording. Trying not to offend anyone. ¬†But it’s my story. ¬†A part of it and that’s all. ¬†A perspective to maybe help when you get into a debate with anyone on any number of subjects. ¬†We all have a story that shapes where we are, were and are heading. ¬†Not always a right or a wrong.

Wishing you a day of peace, empathy, and the space to tell your story.

Shifting Gears. Or Not:-)

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
Theodore Roosevelt

Simple quote from Teddy.  But how this summed up my comical bike ride Saturday.

Saturday I gave myself a chance to see, for real, how hard I’m willing mentally to work for Ironman #6.

Essentially, I spent most of the ride without my big front chain ring, no problem I right? Just some high cadence times and no pushing downhills at all. Still kinda mentally draining but whatevs. Then it happened.  No shifting in the back.  It was stuck on my 11(smallest and hardest).  Eff! I may have said out loud, yeah I swear in times such as these:-)    I was still 25 miles from home. Uphill miles.  Many long climbs, general ups and stupid steep stuff that are always hard even with all systems go.

What to do? ¬†I had the thought that was planted into my brain by the TedXBend talk last week… Ask, what is funny about this?! Everything!

So I now had a fixed gear bike. ¬†As I said on Fb a very fancy fixed gear bike. ¬†Hmm never really imagined riding this route under such a situation. ¬†But I thought it IS funny, it has to be. ¬†Certainly isn’t a REAL problem!

So here it is, I’m going to work hard on the way home, maybe I will even have to get off I don’t know, the other few hundred cyclists on the road on a bluebird Saturday may wonder why I am either spinning, not pedaling or grinding up a hill at 23cad, in sloooow motion…

Every hill I crested I felt both exhilarated and exhausted. ¬†I focused on one at a time. One standing push at a time. Watched my power numbers for fun, watching the fatigue creep in and Max numbers drop lower. ¬†But mile by mile I made it home. ¬†Even after a family of 25, I mean 10, crossed the road at the bottom of the hill I was flying down to get free speed for a good start up the 2nd steepest climb of the day. They saw me, they crossed. ¬†I had to almost stop. Ugh. ¬†Felt a surge of wth at the clueless people who didn’t know or care about my one gear wonderful ride. Then I forgave em. ¬†I pedaled up. It hurt, was slow and I felt victorious. ¬†I was going to make it! Just a few more mildish miles. ¬†I think I used all my happy brain power and way more of my body than normal for a bike ride.

I never called for help, wondered if I should for sure,  but just stayed focused on small tasks to see what I could do.  I did post a statement about my plight on Fb, a moment to vent while I prepared to just keep going lol.

I wonder if I will need to call on this experience again, this proof that I can manage surprise not ideal circumstances. I know I will. Actually thrilled it happened. It’s like a boost to what level I want to train at now. ¬†And yes I learned to keep my shifters charged esp before long rides!

Pharoah the Phancy Phixie at my pondering point


Kinda behind on my days, so this is 16 of 50.  Maybe I can catch up with some short n sweet posts.  This week.

Song for ya, ¬†Thistle and Weeds by Mumford, “…plant your hope with good seeds don’t cover yourself with thistle and weeds….I will hold on I will hold on hope”

There’s always hope-If you have taken care of that part of your soul everyday. It will take care of you when stuff gets tough!

Raising me up… Falling Waters


Falling Waters

Gate closed, no cars allowed
Running alone, no one around
Creek flowing, flowers growing
Heart beating faster I won’t be slowing

Cliffs above me towering strong
Soon I’ll be there, it won’t take long
Crunching, stepping, climbing higher
Life in mountains helps you feel lighter.

I hear the sound, a rumbling roar
Soon I see it, where eagles soar
Water falling, splashing below
Where only the strongest firs can grow

So clear, so cold
So many stories from glaciers old
I run to see you, to feel you, to listen
I run to breathe you in, to find that bit of ‘me’ within.

I found it yes, I always do.
Already can’t wait to return to you.

By Me

Today was a going back to a familiar place but it’s been awhile. ¬†Since my running buddy¬†Runninghood¬†was teaching today, I figured I could at least explore so we could have a plan for a more epic day on the higher trails. ¬†It reminded me how much I need this air, with the sounds of water falling all around me, beside me. ¬†Snow still on the trails, light snow falling like a mist, tree fall to climb over, touching bark, jumping, slipping. Perfection. Just 8¬†miles but they were good ones. ¬†I’d have to say “quality” miles.

Instead of writing my normal rambles I decided to try a little poem and posted it for Fb and IG, so might as well share it here today too, make it easier to keep track of too:-)

Day 13 of 50. Song “No Light No Light” by Florence and the Machine, ethereal and strong at the same time. ¬†Older song but new to me today.

The Vulnerability of Racing

‚Äú…there was some kind of connection between the capacity to love and the capacity to love *running*. The engineering was certainly the same: both depended on loosening your grip on your own desires, putting aside what you wanted and appreciating what you’ve got,
being patient and forgiving and… undemanding…maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that getting better at one could make you better at the other.‚ÄĚ ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†Christopher MacDougall

This struck me today as I was wanting to write about vulnerability, racing, comparing, competing…

These words have been swirling in my head since the half marathon yesterday.

The quote really says it all to me. ¬†What works for loving someone really does work for training and racing. ¬†Yesterday was putting it into practice. ¬†Being willing to do the best with what I had in each moment, each hill, each step, while letting go of the need to control it and keep it the way I “wanted”. ¬†To let go of caring what my final time ultimately said, and find joy amidst the struggle to figure out what I even wanted out of this race.

There were moments I truly felt free to just run, to be with the people. ¬†Not to get on the podium. Not to have a success story. But to be able to say I tried pretty hard and this was what I could do. No shame, no judging and comparing and would’ves, could’ves. ¬†To be just a runner. ¬†I think doing that actually made it possible to have a really solid race. ¬†I opened up, I didn’t wimper and scold myself when people passed me, it was ok! Today I’m just a runner- you’re just a runner, I trust that you are doing what you can and I appreciate you so much for it. ¬†I don’t want you to slow down to make me feel more worthy. ¬†I don’t want you to speed up to feel more worthy yourself.

Yesterday I found freedom through showing up at the start line. ¬†And crossing the finish line. Competing is a slippery slope. ¬†Expectations go with territory of putting in work and being “competitive” meaning wanting to compete with yourself or others to compare results, ideally good results. ¬†But I’m learning to find a balance between being vulnerable enough to try, have goals, yes even come out near the top, and freedom to let the process be what it is regardless of outcomes along the way or at the final line. ¬†Putting away the post game analysis after a brief review. Smiling because even a bad day running is a good day. ¬†Seriously. ¬†A good day running is a perfect day running when you can find fascination and curiosity and love for the community pounding along beside you on a race morning. ¬†A perfect day running is brought to that close place of memories when a friend is waiting, ¬†already finished, knowing the thing that just happened, those miles covered, the random thoughts, the struggle, the determination and familiarity of a good hard run well done. ¬†The hug can capture all of that.

I hope I am getting better at loving my people, the way I feel like I’m getting better at ‘running’. Starting to get it now.

Piece by piece.

So this is day 10 actually, written about day 9. ¬†Maybe I’ll try 2 short posts tomorrow.

A song for you “love don’t die” by The Fray, why? Because it’s a phenomenal tempo running song and is ready to play next time I run thats why.

Common Threads- TedXBend

‚ÄúIn life we find ourselves in situations where we are lost, don‚Äôt know what to do or what the right step is. To me, the worst thing is to do nothing. You just have to keep moving forward, and if you can‚Äôt see too far ahead into the future or don‚Äôt have the vision to do it then you make very small, incremental steps until you‚Äôre ready to make bigger ones, I continue to move forward, even if not in big strides, but very small steps.‚ÄĚ  Omar Samra

Today was the second year I have been able to attend TedxBend.  Such a treat for someone who has spent countless hours watching a huge variety of talks, sharing them, learning from them, crying with them, laughing and getting angry and motivated.  This time I brought my girls and my mom.  Pretty cool to share this with them, I’ve always only done these kinds of events alone, with Patrick or my Arbonne family.

Today we heard from a mom whose 14 year old committed suicide after years of managing bullying and cyber-bullying.  She now seeks to help all of us understand our kids, to listen, to HEAR them.

-From an ambitious success minded executive whose life, mission, world changed on 9/11 when her step father, a firefighter was on the 78th floor when tower 2 collapsed.  Her sense of self and well-being shifted.  She is now using that shift to help us care about each other’s well being, all levels of it.  She had many powerful quotables, one was this…

We are not separate from the suffering of our neighbors”  think about that one…  

-From a photographer who showed us painfully clearly how connected we are to our devices, and how we can adjust to the new norm, creating our own habits that allow real connections to resume, just by creating new habits and boundaries and awareness.

-From a man who has dedicated his life to sharing his abilities and inabilities as his way to connect his gift, his heart.  In particular those with intellectual disabilities.  Teaching us that by embracing our own inabilities we give others the gift of being able to help and care and connect.  Instead of only focusing on our best parts, let’s embrace the parts in ourselves and others that aren’t so functional for a better life,   for better deeper relationships, each side gaining more than imaginable.

-From an expert in how our brains can be rewired to change the world, by changing our innate hard wired tendency for anything negative towards more humor, gratitude and positivity, affecting everyone we touch.  Just 2 Simple questions to shift most situations… How is this funny? and what am I grateful for.  Pretty sure I use these daily already! It works! 

Then we closed with Omar Samra. A man with a huge heart, man lifelong challenges creating the person who held pain and suffering within, a power that was channeled into climbing and exploring, breaking so many barriers as he become one of only 38 people to climb all 7 summits and ski the poles.  And he’s from Egypt! with grief at the loss of his wife after the birth of their daughter, struggles and turmoil and finding ways to let go of untold pain and tokens of life have helped him bring a new light to hundreds of thousands of children in her memory, while continuing to find relief and answers in the mountains.  I could have listened to him the rest of the evening.

He told a story I am anxious to transcribe.  Essentially, when you let something go, it becomes a light that takes off and spreads through the world. A LIGHT.  We need more light. We need to let more stuff go. 


Omar Samra sharing


Devices “removed” #tedxbend2016removed


We all added our bands to this art piece

As it was last year, the afternoon was filled with happy hopeful energy as we came, gave our open hearts and minds, and left full, thinking, wondering, grateful.  Music and art and innovative ideas combined with the heartfelt, brave even funny stories we heard, all along a similar thread, were familiar because they are us.  We are the thread, all of us, all connected.  We laugh, cry, dream, ache, hope, plan, scheme, tremble, worry, listen, cry, yell, whisper, pray, and LIVE our common experience.  The sooner more of us realize this the better.

I am anxious for you all to have access to the videos when they are released.  I will surely share them here when I can.

Day 8 (oops I missed 7… had a fun productive Earth day, made a fun video with over 150photos, and ended with a magical sunset.)  I’ll share the video later somehow.

Your end of page song for now, my fav version of a classic  The Boxer by Mumford.  We all should tell our “seldom told” stories.  We all have em.   Goodnight!

.. and sings our love

Today would have been John Muir’s 178th birthday. ¬†Today this breathtaking, humbling video was released in his honor, showcasing our indescribable, must be experienced Pacific Northwest. ¬†It was filmed in Washington, but could have been in Oregon also, listening to the words, and watching the images filled me with awe, emotion, the feeling of HOME. ¬†I so love it here. ¬†It features my favorite John Muir quote, the one that just reading it makes me cry. ¬†Now to hear and see it come to life in the voice of Lou Whittaker, has mesmerized me. ¬†Again and again, this was much of my day today. ¬†Please enjoy a few minutes. ¬†Take the time to soak it up. ¬†When I shared it on my facebook page I called it yummy. ¬†It is. ¬†Maybe for those of you who haven’t been out here yet it will give you a glimpse at my passion for our new home. ¬† Let me know what you think! ¬†and definitely share the love on the vimeo link:) ¬†expand to full screen size, and put it on your tv for full effect!

Description of the video in words of it’s creator below.

In January of 2016 I made the decision to move from the picturesque Pacific Northwest to New York City. Living in New York had long been a dream of mine, but doing so meant leaving the beauty of Seattle and the wilderness that surrounds it. During the summer, fall and winter leading up to the move I chose to create a film as my way of giving back the PNW for all it had given to me and thus, Muir Song was born.
The inspiration for this film came from my time living and being active in the PNW. My goal was to capture the energy and attitude of exploring Washington through the eyes of people who do so religiously. The film is set to a quote by legendary conservationist John Muir, and narrated by infamous mountain climber, Lou Whittaker.  We were extremely resourceful in shooting this film due to challenging locations, and chose to backpack all of our gear into remote areas in order to find unique angles of the PNW. Our kit was small and mobile, but shooting on the Dragon with an anamorphic adapter enabled us to achieve a cinematic aesthetic without compromising portability.

I’m excited to release Muir Song on April 21st, what would have been John Muir’s 178th birthday. If you’re unfamiliar Muir and his work check out his bio on the Sierra Club here:

Director: Janssen Powers
DOP: Janssen Powers, Caleb Babcock
Creative Development: Mckinzy Powers, Janssen Powers
Producer: Mckinzy Powers
Quote: John Muir
Narrator: Lou Whittaker
Music: Ryan Taubert- Revival, Imagine

So that’s all I have for blogging today. ¬†This video took over my thoughts today and I can’t move past until I’ve made it a permanent part of my blogging history:)

Day 7 of 50 ¬† Song for you. ¬†A tad melancholy, but soothing to me. ¬†“Below my Feet” Mumford and Sons. ¬†One of those run in the woods steady steady, connect to what’s important kind of songs.


Common Majesty

As sensory experience junkies, we have been blinded to the majesty in the common.
Bryant McGil

I wonder sometimes as I go on run after run and bike after bike in beautiful places, am I a sensory experience junkie?

I find exhilarating paths with breathtaking destinations, on courses that are often challenging and leave you feeling accomplished and drained and overwhelmed with emotion at the finish. The sights, smells, sounds, effort combine to create such a sense of well being and gratitude that you want more of it.  The brain says, THIS. MORE.

Can I find THIS in the common parts of any given Monday?  Do I feel less satisfied with the common?

Asking myself this now, reflecting on the day. ¬†Today I was a mom chaperone of five 4th grade boys on a field trip to our High Desert Museum. ¬†A really cool place to learn much about the west and our area’s history and natural life.

I wasn’t zipping down a curvy hill, I wasn’t running a long a rushing river hopping over rocks and boulders under giant trees. ¬†I was herding little goofy people from point to point. ¬†Watching the moms have little mom chats, enjoying the museum staff, so good and patient, what do they do at home in our same town? ¬†Listening to squeals of little girls, dynamic boisterous boys exploring their social ladders. ¬†Wondering who will be those GOOD friends that are part of our family by senior year. ¬†Little hands shooting up with answers to questions about the Oregon trail, so confident, some less so, but brave wanting to try.

I was part of a common majesty today.  It was a beautiful experience as I was both in the moment, and also floating above in my mind, picking out scenes to remember, images and sounds to absorb into the deeper parts, the what I am.

So yes, I am a sensory junkie, but I can get what I need about anywhere, it’s what I tune into, and tuning in is the key to any of it.

Day 4 of 50:-) writing this one from my phone in bed, the old me would have skipped!

Song of the day- ¬†Uma Thurman by Fall Out Boy because it’s what we jammed to on the road to the museum. ¬†So cute watching little future men let loose and all sing along. ¬†Don’t be afraid to boogie in the car:-)

Volcano and Bike love.


‚ÄúWhen life brings you mountains, you don‚Äôt waste your time asking why; you spend your time climbing over them.‚ÄĚ

AJ Darkholme

img_8599I tend to write more often about running. ¬†Maybe because it is easier to take a photo during a run, and photos are often a moment I can turn into a feeling about running. ¬†Not as easy with a bike though not impossible. ¬†When you are really having a great ride and rolling along, kinda don’t want to lose momentum to stop for a photo or take one while riding.

I’ve been finally training consistently since I took a lot of time off swimming and was inconsistent for a year on the bike. ¬†This spring the body finally feels mostly really good and my mind is recovered from doing 5 ironman races in 3 years.

I have a new bike, after retiring the Biscuit (cervelo p1) who was with me for every race I ever did.  It was bittersweet for sure, but I was ready for an upgrade.  Maybe I just needed an excuse to get excited about pushing the pedals and setting new goals, and a sleek black machine seeemed like just the thing.  Now I 110% know,  any lacking on the bike is 110% the pilot.  With that comes pressure.  I cannot be a slow person on a fast bike.  Nope.  Incentive.

Almost every ride now I feel the subtle weight of that pressure, to come back after a year of piddling, gaining weight, being injured, ¬†to¬†get faster and stronger and healthier than I was before. ¬†But it’s ok, it’s a good feeling. ¬†Early this year as the miles started creeping up on long rides, I was starting to have some worries, wow am I really THAT out of bike shape? ruh roh, my power was decent, but the speed numbers we blah and I could not for the life of me stay in aero without falling off the front of my seat. ¬†Thought I was wimpy and I needed to get better. ¬†Then it kept happening and my fitness was going up but the rides were still slow. ¬†hmmmm.

Time for a bike fit, again…

TIP: ¬†Don’t be a cheapskate and skimp on bike fitting. ¬†I had mine fit when I first got it (affectionately my¬†Pharoah, a Dimond) ¬†Thought it was good really, it matched my other bike fit so… surely it was fine.

We knew I’d maybe need an adjustment as I got in shape, so it quickly became a no brainer to get it fixed if possible, not being able to be aero is kinda bad on a pricey tt bike. ¬†Not sure why I waited 4 months after noticing problems, procrastination is often disguised as “making sure”.

Anywhoo. They (Bowen Sports Performance) overhauled my fit based on a guru fit machine and my recommendations on what felt better at same power output and some wise eyeballing.  Presto, new fit, BIG changes, and miracle of miracles.  I am aero stable again.  I can endure aero again.  I am so freaking happy about this!  because I love aero.  Aero equals feeling fast.  going fast. feeling anchored and focused.  Aero is good.  very good.  My perceived effort now matches my results, and my mental state has skyrocketed.

Thus, when I had to postpone my long bike to today, to let the body absorb extra soreness from the week,  I quickly had a clear plan.  Today I was ready to Climb Mt Bachelor, all the way to the parking lot yes.

I needed to have at least a decent base built over these first few months so I knew I could just ride up steady and happy and come down as fast as possible. ¬†Today was the day. ¬†I left at 6:30 am and had the road to myself mostly, quiet and cold, frost all the way up. ¬†I have to say I love having a power meter. ¬†I didn’t want to do a race effort at all so I kept it around 5-10% under my threshold, ¬†I wanted to feel a hard effort that was sustainable and more than what I typically manage on rollers in the country.

I had such a good ride.  I have to admit it felt really good knowing I was the first up for the day.  The first little cyclist to have Mt Bachelor appear like a friendly giant, the first to pedal until South, Middle and North Sister were revealed over the summit with Broken Top in the morning light.  Every time I go up, it is for THIS.  That view, that coming into view.  Every single time it takes my breath away-  I simply cannot soak it up into my being enough.


From my house to the head of the parking lot at the ski area is about 25 miles. ¬†3050 climbing. ¬†On the way down there is about 600 more climbing and some nice flat to hold onto tempo as long as possible. ¬†Oh Oh, and in the early morning, no one is coming down the highway in a car with you… only going up to ski! ¬†It is a beautiful time of day to enjoy the Cascade Lakes Hwy. ¬†It’s always great with big wide smooth shoulders, but still, no one is better than some or many. ¬† So get up and get out the door when you go! ¬†Who needs warmth of midday sun? bundle and go and you won’t regret it. ¬†Too many times we wait for perfect conditions. ¬†I say MAKE them perfect. ¬†Be cold, wet, hot, whatever, there is a way to prepare for most of it. ¬† Once you are out there, ¬†when others are¬†not, that little extra something does something for your inner badassery belief level. ¬†So I Highly recommend not only dealing with what ya got, but don’t even whine a lick about it. ¬†Revel in it.

That’s my message for the day I reckon:)

So here we are Day 3 of my 50 day challenge. ¬† And I have another song for ya inspired by the¬†beloved volcanos we are drawn to daily. ¬† Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy. ¬†Get it, YOUNG (my last name) and volcanoes.. heehee. ¬†ahh I’m a dork.

…it’s all over now before it has begun,¬†we’ve already won,¬†we are wild,¬†we are like Young Volcanoes…¬†

What Lies Beneath

I don’t wanna be flawless, when I go, I want the cuts to show


Oh Pink.. how your raw wisdom inspires me when I least expect it.

When you look at the landscape around you…much of it is scarred deeply.¬†Some areas more than others. ¬†Some show evidence of such disruption, upheaval, power and even anger that it seems like yesterday it happened. ¬†Some looks calm and smooth on the surface, but you know actually the real story just got buried. ¬†The real story is the foundation for what you see on the surface. ¬†Sometimes the dramatic landscapes are open and raw and breathtaking and inspiring because of it. ¬†The honesty of it cannot be denied. ¬†The subtle landscapes may seem mundane and boring or even safe. ¬†If people knew the truth of what lies beneath, would they plod around so happy and secure?

I think we are kind of mirrors of our Earth. ¬†What makes us who we are is most likely a whole lot of not pleasant or pretty. ¬†A whole lot of flaws. ¬†In some of us you see them more than others, and many of us have had them buried under a smooth mellow surface. ¬†¬†I really honestly envy those open shockingly ‘beautiful’ people, showing all their scars, not showing them off, but letting them be seen. ¬†The honesty is refreshing.

As I get older, I hope the weathering effects of time and experience and relaxing into myself erodes some of that surface protection, so that when I go, yes the cuts show.

Day 2 of 50,  your song reward is Timebomb by Pink:)  enjoy


Smith Rock

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