That one was for you, Ryan.

If homefield advantage plays a part in cycling, both 25-year-old David Fleischhauer and 33-year-old Jennifer Triplett are the face of the argument.

For Fleischhauer and Triplett, it wasn't their first time navigating the streets of Bellingham. Both Western Washington University graduates, Fleischhauer in 2008 and Triplett in 2000, the pair made a return trip to the town of their alma mater to claim first place in their respective men's and women's category 1 and 2 divisions of the 2011 Bellingham Criterium, part of the Washington State Masters & Senior Criterium Championships.

"It was sweet euphoria," said Triplett after winning the 45-minut- long women's race. "I got goose bumps when I finished. It's nice to come back here and win."

Fleischhauer, who was racing for bike team Harriet Sports Performance based out of Seattle, echoed Triplett's sentiments

"It always feels great to win, and this is my first win of the year," Fleischhauer said. "The roads were new on the course, and Bellingham is my favorite place to be in the world."

For 10 hours Sunday, a total of 300 participants competing in 14 different races whizzed around a one-mile road bike loop in downtown Bellingham. Starting at the csection of Lottie Street and Grand Avenue, cyclists sped up to 30 mph around Grand Avenue to Girard Street, North Commerical Street, Flora Street then back down Grand Avenue.

Record-setting cyclist Stewart Bowmer organized the event with title sponsor Fanatik Bike Co. The event included races for all age groups and experience levels. In the cycling world, categories 4-5 are for novices, while categories 1 and 2 are for professional level racers.

Adding to the excitement of the criterium were primes that were handed out to the race leader at various points of the race. For winning certain laps, cyclists were awarded cash prizes and other merchandise.

"Sprinting for prizes is one thing that makes the criterium so unique to other races," Bowmer said. "It's been a great turnout this year, the most we've ever had."

Triplett, who races for Hagen Berman Cycling Team, credited her success to the tremendous amount of racing she has done of late. On Saturday she was in San Jose, Calif., where she competed in two races. In fact, she said the Bellingham Criterium was her ninth race in two weeks.

Disregarding any possible fatigue and her seventh-place slot heading into the last lap, Triplett was still able to sneak her way across the finish line before Seattle racer Tricia Bailey, who was trailing her close.

"My partner Beth (Lyndon-Griffith) helped me out on the last lap," Triplett said. "I got up to third wheel going into the last turn and just powered my way to the finish."

While Triplett had to outrace only 13 other competitors to win, Fleischhauer claimed first place in a much larger 50-man field.

"I was actually 15 guys or so back going into the last lap, but on this track you can pass 20-25 people in a half lap," Fleischhauer said. "I was a little worried about getting pinched, but it worked out. We have a small team, so we had to play off other riders. Last time on this track (two years ago) we won, so I think we have a good strategy."

Bowmer said the races went well and were very safe, as they experienced only four crashes. But while Bowmer was pleased with how the 2011 Bellingham Criterium turned out, he said he hopes for more in the future.

"It's great to have so many come out," Bowmer said. "Hopefully in the future we can get a race closer to central downtown Bellingham."

Read more: http://www.bellinghamherald.com/2011/07/03/2087609/cycling-wwu-graduates-return-home.html#ixzz1RLpiRM9U

Thinking of you today. It's been a while but you came into my dream the other night. Then you haunted my computer and put Makiah up to some nonsense. I miss you.

Corner Two.

I will always think of you when I think about corner two.

You'd pull up your arm chair and chug IPA's and cheer me on from the rail. You loved watching from there - observing and shouting encouragement as I whirled by. And I loved pulling up after the race and saying hi.

It's just not the same without you there.

Wah.

Last night I dreamed that I was on a boat on Lake Washington and couldn't stop crying. I was literally convulsing with grief. I didn't know where the boat was going or why I was on it - all I sensed was being extremely sad.

I woke up thinking how nice it was that I dreamed it and that in reality I didn't just cry my eye balls out. I'm sure that will come sooner or later - but for now it's nice to be tear free.

33 and counting backward...

I have goosebumps tonight. And the cause is not the normal one - this time it's the uncanny feeling that Ryan is in the room with me tonight. I've thought about him all day - and my Pandora station keeps playing a slew of songs that remind me of him.

Somedays are just harder than others.

Today was no exception. As I was in my favorite shop in Fremont, the woman who always helps me named Jennifer said she was married to a Ryan. I told her that I was too, and she started to ask about you. The awkward part came when she said, so your ex-husband was named Ryan. And I had to correct her, that you are not my ex. No, you are my late husband. A different story entirely. She then made a comment of how odd it must feel to be a widow at so young. And honestly, when you first passed that thought did cross my mind often. But now as acceptance settles into my life on a daily basis, I don't think of being a victim at all. She continued to ask several personal questions - like if we had a good relationship. And I answered, yes, the best. She asked if I would do it again, and I said in a heartbeat.

I don't think most people understand what you go through when you lose someone super close to you, let alone a soul mate. That hardship is unfathomable. But somehow, some way, you are able to continue on. And the only thing that is a sure thing is the passage of time.

I walk most places these days. The days are longer now, the temperatures warmer, and I find peace in the slower pace traveled. Plus with work and a grocery store within a mile of my house, it's hard not to put on my tennis shoes and take the dog for a walk on my errand runs. I figure we get a triple benefit out of it - she gets the exercise, as do I; we are doing some good for the environment by not driving; and I get to do some self reflection.

I turn 33 in a week from tomorrow. Another birthday, another milestone. They are starting to accumulate. And so is the passage of time between breakdowns. For that I am very thankful. At 35, I start reversing my age and get younger every year, right? Right.

thoughts

Last night, as I laid down to sleep after a late evening spent in Bellingham at Trish's annual St. Patrick Day party, I thought of you. The way your hair felt on your temple, and how I loved to rub the scoop of it - how the hair was lighter in color there. I haven't thought about the intimate details of your physical presence in a long time.

And I cried. Hard.

This morning, I woke up with a missing you hangover.

Walking into work helped. It reminded me of a pleasant memory - exactly three years ago. When Coleman came up to visit and we walked to meet you. I took a photo of the two of you, stopping to smell the spring flowers. You are still missed. And loved.

2.5

I didn't want today to go by without recognizing it. It makes me realize that time is the ultimate healer - and that suddenly, when you wish things would speed up, you realize they have and you wish they would slow back down.

Three years is the next mark. That's a solid chunk of time. And life has continued to spin madly on.

Thankfully, I've surrounded myself with loved ones who continue to remind me the beauty of living on. Of carrying on in the circle of life. Of loving, of living, of laughing and crying. To experience all of these things is so humbling.

Funny, I'm listening to Coldplay as I write. Their music transports me and highlights how many memories I have created since the last time I listened to them. So many good things have happened in my life - and I am thankful for the difficult times too. Standing on the top of mountains, looking into the valley below; breathing deep and acknowledging that my life will follow the contours of the planet. I am prepared for whatever it throws at me, at us. And that I am prepared to share this wisdom and knowledge with friends and family that need it.

I came across a box of old photos that had some oldies and goodies in it. One of which was this one. Hard to believe it will be ten years ago this year.

Coming Full Circle

Today I woke up with resolve.

Somedays I have more strength than others to tackle those impossible tasks. The ones that no one ever tell you about - like getting rid of possessions. There's no manual on the rights or wrongs of moving on in life after losing a loved one. You just have to trust your instincts and intutition about timing.

Today was one of those days.

A couple of times I almost didn't do what I had decided to do that morning. But around 5pm, I headed out to Discovery park and took another step in my acceptance. At dusk I scattered a handful of ashes on the perch that overlooks the Puget Sound with the Olympics in the distance.

And I've realized that now is the time to make a list of the places around the world to scatter more ashes. Just as I feel bottled up in the city, stuck at home, I'm sure Ryan does too. It's time to spread those wings and continue to acknowledge the circle of life.

Liberating.

Today I woke up feeling better then I have all week, or month for that matter. It feels like my strength has returned, overnight. My generally chipper attitude is back and I feel so much better that I threw out the rope today. I was going to go through the motions and burn it - my mom's suggestion of doing so in the Weber seemed like the best idea. But rather then go through the motions and anxiety of finding the right time and potentially lighting the backyard willow tree on fire - I just put it in the trash.

I often forget - sometimes the anticipation of doing something or the build up of going through the motions is the hardest part. Take the thought of knowing the 2.5 year mark is coming up - it has been wearing heavy on my heart. At times it even debilitated me to sobbing hysterically on the office floor. But now that the date has come and gone, I feel renewed, energized and ready to tackle a new room. I think I'm ready to paint the living room.

The momentum is building up once again and it feels amazing. I just have to remember next time that when I hit the bottom of the valley floor - another summit awaits me.

I just realized, I've posted more in the month of January than any month prior. Maybe it's a sign that I can talk about him ore. Or maybe he's just on my mind more. Or maybe. Maybe.

Social network

I watched social network tonight and thought of Ryan. Coding was his thing. Zero zero zero zero one. He loved to geek out and geek out with his geeky friends. And I loved watching him geek out and listen to him with glazed eyes. I miss him. And his geeky-ness.

Dreams.

In a sleepy haze, half way between dreaming and waking up, I had a dream of Ryan. I was in a water park, slip sliding down a water way. Getting up, going again. And then running into Orion as we were preparing to play soccer on a team called Team Go! And as we were at the officials stand, getting ready to register our team amongst a crowd of people, up walked Ryan. His features were vivid - as I last remember seeing him. A sense of he's been alive all this time washed over me. And then I embraced him. I couldn't smell him though - it was just a shell of his physical body.

I woke up and sobbed. Then I cried myself back to sleep.

As I relayed this dream to a friend, I started sobbing again. Not out of sadness, but more out of the beauty of letting someone touch you that much. I feel blessed to have known a love like that, sad that he's no longer here in the physical sense, but happy that I remember him when I do.

Read a quote this morning:

"Coincidences are the scars of fate."

Coincidence?

I've been purging my house lately. Since I've got some down time from the bike, I've been putting in my extra energy into those often neglected things. Such as cleaning off bookshelves with old climbing guide books, yacht guides, things Ryan was into. It's left me wondering though - what do I do with his old year books? His baseball card collection? His leather jacket?

His intense picture hangs on the wall next to the now empty bookshelf. The guide books, where he spent hours fondling their pages, are being donated to Vertical World for the use of other climbing enthusiasts. I'd rather have someone use it who values it vs. chucking it to Goodwill.

Plus in a way, I think I'm getting ready for a major change. A move or something. That or I'm just exercising how freeing it is to not be tied down by hordes of stuff.

One thing I will keep forever though are my journals. I came across one from our honeymoon. And its words were somewhat creepy. Here's what it said:

"Ah, the magnificent beauty of Yosemite. What a special treat to spend our honeymoon in one of the world's premier climbing spots. (Even as I type this, Built to Spill came on the radio - yet another coincidence?) Entering the valley for the first time was breath taking - I am so glad to be able to see it with my husband. Ryan even commented how special it was to come to a place where neither of us have been and be able to climb such death defying heights together as husband and wife. I completely agree.

We've been in Yosemite since September 7, 2001 - and every moment has been phenomenal, pristine and gorgeous. The land is as enchanting as I've ever seen and I am already planning on ways to get back. Our forefathers knew what they were talking about and I will thank them for generations to come. May it remain this gorgeous and I hope my children children will thoroughly enjoy it as much as I have."

Death-defying?
September 7?
Built to Spill?

Whoa.

Holidays

A big huge sigh starts this entry off.

Holidays are tough for me. Instead of coping with a daily routine, I am reminded in multiple ways of Ryan's absence. It strikes me at odd times- like when I'm wrapping gifts, getting dressed up for Christmas celebrations, parties, etc. Last night as I was frantically wrapping gifts in time to give them away before I leave again, I am aware of him missing. "Whatcha doing Juice?" he'd say after putting in eight hours of work in the basement and come bounding up the stairs. He'd crack a beer, take a swig and then wrap his arms around me.

I continue on with taping, cutting, putting ribbons on the gifts and dismiss the ache.

Something would distract me. I'd get back into the routine of things and then, as I was getting ready for going out to dinner with my Mom, Chuck, Marcy and Sam, his presence would come flooding back into my consciousness. I would remember getting ready in times past, asking him for his opinion on shoe choice, and he would dutifully answer. Knowing full well that shoe choice for women is often a loaded question.

We were supposed to grow old together.

I'm trying. I'm trying not to let these thoughts consume me. To suck me into the grieving vortex. But I also know it's important to recognize these feelings, to acknowledge their existence. They are real feelings and deserve respect too.

I look forward to new memories of the holidays. Not to replace the old ones, but to add to them. Sigh.

May you be old and gray when you experience this. Two years for whatever reason is a lot harder than the first.

Heavy weights

Wow - the two year mark is rapidly approaching.

I cleaned out my closet tonight. I had the time and it's been on my mind for some time to do - and finally I summoned the motivation to complete that massive project.

It was somewhat bittersweet - touching and feeling the clothing that I wore when you were alive. The styles that I wore - so outdated by now - yet frozen in time when I think about the times we spent together while I wore them.

I filled 5 big bags. Five! Five bags and 15 years worth of memories. The dust kitties when scurrying in a hurry, I was ruthless with what I decided to discard.

I feel like I'm building momentum - and I've been thinking about moving. Downsizing and getting rid of the clutter is a move in the right direction. I can tell something is going to change in the near future with regard to my dwelling - and it feels like it's right, the time has come.

Some days I feel stronger than others. Today I was able to put on my badge of courage and dive in - and I'm glad I did. But damn Ryan, I still miss you to pieces.

Presence

In the week between the AVC and FSA Grand Prix, I found myself battling with grief. I struggled with thoughts of missing Ryan, wishing he were here, feeling blue, etc. Looking back on that time, I realize that a pattern is starting to emerge. Whenever I have some taper time and am not stressing my body to the max as usual, my mind starts to relax and think about things that are usually buried. In my normal routine of double day workouts, fueling, resting, etc - I don't have time to think about my feelings or get blue. Instead I'm focused on the next effort, the next appointment, the next thing. So when the down time came and the blue feelings happened, I freaked out a little bit.

I've gotten used to not being bombarded by those feelings on a daily basis. My piece of mind has become pretty steady so when it hit me in that week between competition, I felt like I had been broad sided.

Looking back on it - I know there are things I can do and mind sets I can take to embrace the situation. Instead of thinking of Ryan in a downer way, in how much I miss him, how sad I am that he's not here to experience life together - I should transform it into celebrating his energy. How now that I'm relaxing and tapering - his presence is with me more than ever before and he's here to assist. Turning that grief around from a blue feeling into a happy feeling can be hard at times but in the long term managing those feelings and using it as a way to honor him and as inspiration is the best thing I could do.

I'm sure his Irish temper would rear its angry head if he saw me mope and cry about it - he'd want me to summon his strength, use his energy and kick some ass doing what I love and am passionate about.

Next time I get some taper and recognize this pattern emerging, I will turn that frown upside down and use his presence in his honor.

Detachment

This one baffles me and I'm going to talk it out to see if I can make sense of it all.

Have you ever known someone who is completely detached from their body? I have - a couple of them actually. They have this ability to completely separate mind from their body and push their body beyond normal physical limitations. This mental strength is so strong that it ignores warning signs. And you can bet money on their body being in complete knots. Literally a ball of pent up muscle, nerves and on over drive, constantly. Bordering a blow up with every sustained effort, on the mind and body continue on in complete disharmony. I sit and watch in complete amazement as the two forces battle one another and often wonder what things would be like if they were in harmony and stopped fighting against one another.

More than anything it makes me take a hard look at myself. Both mentally and physically. For every time I think they will blow up or self destruct, they don't and continue on. It makes me want to reach my goals more than ever. Yet faced with the choice - do you risk your own safety in the name of sport? Or walk the fine line between risk and performance?

There are many ways to do something. You can try and force things, push and shove your way to the front of the line, or you can take the natural process and go with the flow, never settling for mediocrity but instead increasing your preference for stellar performances. And of course there's everything in between. This slower, methodical approach is the one I've been taking from the get go and sometimes, although I know this approach suites my personality and character more, I often wonder what it would be like if I started forcing things.

Do I want to be detached from my body more? Or has that lesson scared me from previous experiences... such as my torn ACL in high school and its following 4 surgeries, or near broken noses in boxing? How about near brain injury? Hamstring pulls and Achilles tears? Near epic experiences in Yosemite Valley? Did that condition me long ago to not push the line of risk vs. performance?

Since working with Jennie, I've worked on pushing my limits. Both mentally and physically. Hitting the wall and going beyond has taken hundreds, if not thousands of efforts. And the break through started to happen when I was able to continue pushing once in the dark tunnel of pain, where every ounce of your body is telling your brain to stop, yet you continue on. I often wonder if this push is taking time off my life. That with each effort or attempt I am literally shaving off time. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

I suppose it's one thing to push your own limits. To stretch your own boundaries and see what you can do. But the thing I don't get is what to do about someone who's forceful nature is starting to force you? Their actions and pursuit of sport is a "oh well!" approach and is hurled toward you whether you like it or not. Suddenly one of the variables associated with the risk of taking corners at speed on tiny little tires increases ten fold when someone is forcing themselves to corner, instead of letting the bike be an extension of the body. We all sign that USCF waiver form for every race we compete in... acknowledging the risk of serious injury or death by partaking in the event. And I guess up until this point I've had a naive reliance that all of my competitors compete with a code of conduct to avoid unnecessary roughness and don't put themselves on the brink of injury for some silly bike race. Now faced with the reality of having someone play rough alarms me. I'm pretty sure it alarms the entire peloton.

Does it prevent me from racing? No. But it sharpens my awareness of racing and training in a harmonious approach and I get fulfillment from having the privilege to race with a team and competitors who feel the same way. Not from winning at all costs.

Back to the original idea though... witnessing someone bend over backwards and force things stirs up several emotions. First there's my strong belief in the natural state of things. That everything happens for a reason and for the limited time we have on this planet, our job is to make the most out of it. Having a serious injury early in life taught me the invaluable lesson of patience. And that forcing things and asking "why me?" questions are counterproductive to living a life of acceptance. Ryan's death taught me and continues to teach me many things in that regard. Second, why wouldn't everyone want to live a life full of harmony? Why struggle against the natural law of things? Sure you can have preferences but the moment you start demanding expectations - well, that will surely set you up for failure.

Bottom line, it takes all sorts to make the world go round.