Tell Me Did the Wind Sweep You Off Your Feet

Pedal therapy is a real thing...something good for the mind, body, heart and soul. Pedal therapy and wind is also a real thing...but I'm pretty sure not so good for the mind, body, heart and soul. The wind has never really been my friend, and as of late, it REALLY has not been my friend. I'm a strong believer in therapy, especially the pedaling sort. I'm just not sure how effective it is when interference is caused by the wind. Wind is bad enough when you are firmly planted on two feet.

With that being said, spring time in Idaho is unpredictable - yet, I am positive that there is a 100% chance of wind every time I ride my bike.

And even though the two don't belong together, somehow the wind has a funny way of gauging the morale on my bike...and on a scale of 1-100, when it is windy, morale comes in about a -347. Yes, negative three hundred and forty seven...and that is being generous. I've cursed the existence of my bike, I've thrown it down and walked away from it, I've cried on the side of the road...but have always got back on...and have pedaled away a little stronger, sometimes a little more defeated, but always a whole lot more satisfied to be moving forward rather than standing still. And I curse the wind the entire time.

And then little things like this happen:

I find super human powers being passed down to me in the form of a well-loved kit...a surprise package from one kick ass dancer to another. The bibs, the jersey, the jacket...they all fit perfectly...and magically deliver powers beyond conscious thought. The kind that purple unicorns are made of.

and...

Morale has suddenly increased. The wind is a little less fierce. The tears are fewer. And the kick ass has been turned up a notch!

From this small in-between moment of mine, I am reminded that when we do what is necessary....take a nap, build a bridge, get mad, laugh, cry, get a "new to you" kit...getting over it becomes a piece of cake!

To all of you cheering me on from the sidelines:
Your support and love seriously keeps the kick ass turned on! Thank you so much for caring and sharing with me. Thanks for believing in me when I have temporarily misplaced the belief in myself. Thank you for being a part of my getting over it journey!

Lighten Up While You Still Can, Don't Even Try to Understand

Blessed to acknowledge the simple and beautiful things in life...

New canvas ballet shoes. Dance notes. Sleeping cats. Alley cats that seek shelter from the storm. Super Dank. Little friends that sit next to me in the booth, drinking soda from a wine glass and eating french fries. Neighbors that care. Habits being forgotten. Whip rolls?! Chamois butter. Sunday morning ballet class. A great base tan. Sunscreen. Proper tools. How to fall over during wind gusts...in 5 o'clock traffic. How to ride with one arm, safely. Multi-tasking on the trainer. Long flat roads. Granny gear for those not so flat roads. Clipped in and out of the saddle. Getting schooled in how to crash properly. Purple casts. Night rides. Long rides followed by red wine, energy bites and bare feet. Classes on buttery hubs, headsets, bottom brackets, cables and housing...and...most importantly, how to fix a flat tire! Being able to lace and true my own wheels. Riding to class, checking out Treefort, and having breakfast with new friends. Time and circumstance. Things working out just as they should. Hitch bolts. Friends with boxes. Smiles from the car door. V8 Juice. BBQ with family. Friends being recognized for a job well done. Coffee in an oversized mug. A group hug to end the week...every week! Music. Hot tub time machines. Simple offers of love that come from an outstretched hand in the car. Friends having job interviews. Hello Fresh meals. Chaco tan lines! Afternoon beer with the neighbors on a sunny Saturday. 10 Barrel. Dinner with mom. Dancers that practice. Vintage tights! Practice charts. Opportunities in Vale, Oregon. Pointe Shoe fittings...for the first time! Adventure Cycling maps. Sun. Friends that care. Brothers help. Moms love.

What to Leave In, What to Leave Out

I can't pinpoint when it happened, but what started as a rose and a thorn being shared at the dinner table morphed into a notebook of daily in-between moments...I guess that is exactly what in-between moments are about though! Unplanned and of an unknown sort, yet so very important in the grand scheme of BIG things.

Every day I write down an in-between moment; I've never been at a loss for finding one, and some days I recognize many. I can say, this little ritual never gets missed and I look forward to it each and every day! It literally takes me 2 seconds. There is nothing glamorous about my dressed down (sometimes messy, sometimes funny, but always real) in-between moments. They aren't the BIG or trivial or cool moments that some of us tend to share on social media. They are just daily happenings that I find significance with.

Last night as I walked out of the studio with a plastic vase of hand picked flowers I stopped for a moment...I stood on the sidewalk in awe that the day was done, I was able to see the sun setting, I had a living object in my hand, I could hear the sounds in the distance...and I was feeling overcome with gratitude. Such simple pleasures of standing on the sidewalk and just being for a brief moment, something that I had not done on that particular sidewalk before, although I had stood in that exact spot thousands of times. I sat down for a moment to take it in and sent a text message...today, I hope something has reminded you of how blessed you are! I got a picture response of a dandelion being held by a daughter as she snapped a shot of her daddy on his bicycle in the background. Such small, simple pleasures surround us when we take a moment to savor it...

I got home and immediately wrote down my in-between moment of the day. And for the first time, I decided to flip through and revisit the previous moments...all of them. Life is far from perfect, yet it is imperfectly beautiful. We strive so hard to create ourselves...we set schedules, do what is necessary, work, play, make excuses, inspire people, take vacation, make things...and sometimes we find that in this creation we actually lose grasp of who we really are. I challenge you to take a moment to stand on the sidewalk for more than one second, take it in. Listen to the breeze when you walk outside. Feel your feet in the grass. Find shapes in the clouds. Ultimately, find the moments that are noteworthy in your narrative. Remember that the narrative is yours only. Write it down, if you desire. Just love your moments. Live them fully.

A Life Lived Much Too Fast to Hold Onto

Her outstretched hand rested palm up on the arm rest, not a word was said with her voice...but her eyes told a different story as I asked her, "What?"...she shook her hand one time. I immediately knew she was asking for me to love her, to reach out and hold her. As her fingers intertwined with mine I gave her a squeeze and gently rolled her hand over. We drove like that, in silence, with smiles beaming widely, for some time. She had no idea that her 6 year old heart had completely made my day.

And everything is ok in the universe. 

Like a Band of Gypsies we go Down the Highway

 

Who knew 4 months would fly by so quickly? The amount of knowledge that I've gained over the 12 or so BYOB (bring your own bike) classes at Boise Bicycle Project has been absolutely priceless. Bittersweet to have the end come so soon. The end that is really just the beginning of a life enriched by the know how to fix my own flat, lace a wheel, rebuild hubs and overhaul headsets. Its having the knowledge to know the importance of tick of play, and understanding the difference between index and friction shifting. It is the ease in which I learned how to hang my bike on the rack during that first class...the friends made...the tools used...the knowledge shared...the chips and beers enjoyed...the beauty in fixing something with my own two hands.

Thank you BBP! You have a member for life! Your work reaches and touches so many people, from so many walks of life. Never did it matter what kind of bike rolled into class, from carbon with electronic shifting to department store and everything in between - you never once passed judgement. Kudos to providing an atmosphere and space that is truly open and accepting of all!  So many non-profits are self-serving...but not you, not at all.

Sweet Like Candy to my Soul, Sweet You Rock, and Sweet You Roll

My first bike crash was when I was 6, only two days after I had learned to ride my bike sans training wheels. It was the first real bike ride WITHOUT training wheels, AND not in the grass, AND further than 25 yards AND my mom let me ride in front as she followed behind. That was a big deal to my 6 year old self. The only thing known, for sure, in my non-helmeted head (I guess brains weren't as important in the 80's as they are now) was that I knew how to ride a bike, for REAL! I had no idea what the Tour of Flanders was that day...but I was ready to ride it and win it! Just as cobbles get in the way of Flanders riders, I too had my own "cobbles" to overcome...or handlebars that stuck out waaaaay too far and made me crash into the parked car on the side of the road. I remember being mad at my bike, of course it wasn't me, I was riding in a straight line. Stupid handlebars. The car was fine, and I was too. The small crash really didn't even bruise my pride, more than anything it taught me about fear...that night I remember asking God to protect me when the police found out that it was me who ran into the car. Instead of counting sheep, I was scared sh!tless and debated on asking my mom if we could just call the police and let them know that it was me. Of course, the police never came for me. And that was my first bike crash.

Unbeknownst to me, my mom was teaching me about confidence and how to spread my wings that day. I learned a thing or two about fear, as well. I was on top of the world heading out on that maiden two-wheel voyage...experienced a lesson along the way, came back a little beat up, was scared of silly outcomes, but it never stopped me from getting back on my bike.

Over the years, there were times my friends "gave me a pump" on the handlebars, gravel roads that gave way under me, skid marks of near misses, and solo, cross country rides to my cousins house, 3 miles away (when you are eleven, 3 miles IS cleeeeeear across the country). There were rides to the horse races in 356 degree heat. Sno-cone rides. And fun rides spent with my mom. Flat tires, lots of them. Rides to mini barns. Dares with an electrical fence. Friends, food, drinks. Criterium races in 467 degree heat and a little friend that lost her dinner all over the sidewalk (now that is a great way to get and keep a front row seat, no one fights you for it).

Then there was THE lesson in crashing...take a chilly February evening, two people reconnecting after circumstances of coolness intervene, and a night ride from Boise to Nampa for pizza and beers...without a bike lock. As we approached the intersection I got distracted...I could say it was the setting sun or that I was trying to pass my friend...but that would be dishonest...my distraction was caused by the nice rear view I had in front of me...don't fault me, I keep good looking company! It was in the moment of me telling myself, sheesh, you are riding bikes with that!!, when I looked away (as to not get distracted)...and...bam, clipped his rear wheel. I went down immediately and remember feeling the pavement skid across my face until I came to a stop. The superficial scrape on the face was my main concern, the arm was an inconvenience, and the knee didn't even register. Adrenaline kicked in, I just needed a moment to catch my breath to figure out I was not getting back on my bike...and it was not because of the superficial wound on the face. We were within sight of the hospital, but I would have to ride across the interstate on Eagle Road with an arm that didn't work 100%; would have been like riding my bike with handlebars that stuck out waaaaaaay to far, but this time the traffic was going 55 mph, not parked. Since I had other options, I wasn't feeling up for a ride to the ER. I opted to sit on the side of the road while my Personal Assistant rode home and kindly returned to pick me up off the side of the road in his vehicle. As I sat there, waiting for him to return, for a brief but fleeting moment, I wondered had we found the bike lock and left sooner if the crash would have ever happened. I also smiled at the fact that I crashed while riding my bike on the surface of a planet. AND all because I had good looking company! That's the way to crash!

My PA returned and had connections, therefore I received zero wait time at the clinic to get x-rays. Freshly braced up, we continued to Nampa, albeit in a vehicle, and enjoyed the pizza, beer and great company, as originally intended. It wasn't until a few days later that I got the pleasure of selecting a cast, and another week until the magic purple unicorn cast was fully covered in autographs of some of the greatest dancers that exist! In the weeks following, I got the pleasure of replacing my helmet, patching my jacket, buying rustoleum to fix the scratches on my frame, and experienced so many lessons that only crashing my bike could have taught:

Lesson 1: Ride with less attractive company.
Lesson 2: Ride with a PA - so many advantages!
Lesson 3: Crash while doing something you love. Then get a purple cast!
Lesson 4: Don't let silly thoughts steal your confidence.
Lesson 5: Multi-tasking is an art form when you ride the trainer.
Lesson 6: Police don't arrest you when you are 6 years old and crash your bike, nor when you are 36.
Lesson 7: Wool socks make great unicorn warmers!
Lesson 8: Purple unicorns are a 2 in 1 deal, cat toys and cat beds!
Lesson 9: Always wear a helmet.
Lesson 10: It's hard to shave your right armpit without help from your left hand...try it, I dare you(-;
Lesson 11: Moms are always right behind you making sure you are safe!
Lesson 12: Superficial wounds to the face heal quickly.
Lesson 13: More than one coffee mug will get broke while wearing a cast.
Lesson 14: Get back on the bike and ride again!

But my heart is wild and my bones are steel

...or something like that!