Alone?

sappy thoughts this evening, but do you ever sit and wonder... maybe I'm better off alone?

Recently, I've been very blessed with an amazing person in my life. Someone who is so sweet, kind, patient, supportive... the list could go on. So what's missing? Something is... and I can't quite put my finger on it. So knowing someone else is in it 110% and I'm teetering on 75%... I've made the decision to cut it off. As difficult as this is, it's liberating. Feel a sense of relief, freedom, and complete independence.

With these feelings also come the looming thought of, "Will I be alone for the rest of my life?"... is there someone out there where it's a mutual 110%? Am I living in a fantasy world?

I guess that's for me to find out as I still have a few years in my 20's to figure it out... or will find a re route of thoughts into my 30's to be confident and secure on my own.

In the meantime, I'm along for the ride... and holding on.

Love.

Love. That four letter word that so many people find so easily to roll off their tongue... a word that I tend to hold to myself and not throw out into the world so freely. Until this evening.

Am I in love, no... but realizing the importance of sharing this word with those in our lives that keep us moving. Family, friends, maybe a companion. Use it, express it... openly give back the feeling you receive from the ones you care deeply about.

My evening has given me an overwhelming amount of perspective. Starting with an amazing yoga practice with one of the instructors who really brought me into my practice. Just visiting the studio after moving away; everyone was there; familiar, smiling faces. Energy was high and flowing, finding equal and opposite efforts in effort and rest; pushing and letting go. I left feeling a complete balance of invigoration and clarity. I checked my phone, as I do too often and responded to a few texts and listened to a concerning voicemail from my mother. Wondering if I had done something to cause a lecture, I was hesitant to call back, but did. Her voice immediately gave a sense of forced strength told me to pull over and park my car. I did just that, and there it hit; "Your cousin Andy was killed today by a drunk driver".

Silence. My stomach began to turn and immediately crumbled; words couldn't come out... just gasps for air. All I could think to say was, I love you. I love you so much.

I come from a very traditional small town Minnesota family, and my cousin Andy was always one to not follow the "norm". Something we saw in each other and always held onto that connection. Although, our paths are very different we both share the drive to follow our passion. His path has always been jest-fully poked at in our family; ghost chaser to storm chaser. He was following his passion, and leaving his mark along the way. It was what moved him, his parents supported him and he made it. Google, "Andy Gabrielson" and you'll see he's known and admired for the purpose driven life he lived. Something most people never tap into as they stay safely behind their cubicles and 401ks.

At 24, Andy is no longer here due to someone's poor decision to drink and get behind the wheel. Anger, resentment, and blame are all worthless reactions. Instead, I'm happy to know at such a young age Andy was able to live his passion. For that, I hope to find an extra skip to my step to keep chasing my dream and hope to inspire others to do the same.

Another cousin reminded me something he had said at our Grandma Audrey's funeral, and that's, "I wish heaven was this far (a very young Andy's arm span); so that we can see and talk to her anytime".

I love you Andy Gabrielson, and thank you for never questioning and always supporting my restlessness. You will be truly missed, but never forgotten.

If you're going to San Francisco...

It seems as though the moment my life begins to sift into a structured schedule, I seek out any opportunity to stir it up. Which is exactly what has landed me in the Bay Area for the past week (+).

I'm really trying my best to stick to my training schedule. However, I've definitely gone off route a touch... whoops. Thus far, this has been my stay:

Friday: off the plane immediately to a mellow Paradise Loop

Saturday: MTB: RR, Eldridge, RR, Coastal, Diaz, Miwok

Sunday: Road: Alpine Dam

Monday: MTB: China Camp

Tuesday: MTB: Weights + Tamarancho (+) B17-Whites Hill

Wednesday: MTB: Tamarancho w/ stupid crash

Thursday: MTB: China Camp + Yoga

Friday: Road: SF-SV-4 corners via Marion-Muir Woods-Paradise Loop-SV-SF

Saturday: Road: SF-Headlands Loop-Stinson Loop-SF

I probably get negative points for having 1 to far more than 1 drink/night and deviating from the Apex Nutrition plan... but a good SF friend told me, "You only live once, until you live again".

From outside looking in, seems like a pretty fantastic life... and for the most part I'd have to agree... but nothing is ever as good as it looks. My views on "the big picture" have continually restructured and redefined as each year goes by. Yes, my goals are very race driven right now... but being back I'm realizing if I'm meant to race I can't sanely go day by day and be 100% train, bike, rest, train, rest, repeat. So much of the journey is lost thinking of living my life like that. Seems very egotistical. Kind of makes me want to bang my head against a brick wall to think the most exciting part of my day would be the duration and intensity of intervals.

Give me thrill, sarcasm, adrenaline, spontaneous adventure, challenge, art, culture, genuine compassion, education, meditation... excitement.

It's there, and possible.. even if I really want to be a bicycle racer when I grow up... I know it. If not... well, at least I gave it a shot and have given and gained new perspective in the process.

Thank you SF for teaching me far more than how to ride steep steeps!

Zones... defined.

Moving back to Colorado and feeling I had a complete wash of an inexistent season, I decided to work with a coach and try this whole structured training thing.

If you're reading this and know me, you probably know that I'm terrible at structure. I am very easily distracted (SQUIRREL!) and in the two years of mountain biking I realize I kind of just have one speed... it's; GO! Any riding with heart rate/power, scheduled and consistent squat parties, and rest days... all very foreign to my, "let's just ride bikes" approach...

I'm not getting any younger, and want to see what a little structure can do. For the past month it's all been written out for me, all I have to do is log on to Training Peaks and follow directions. Easy; right? So far so good thanks to Josiah, a coach who knows me and understands my goals.

Friends have all warned me not to take riding too seriously as I'll burn out or lose the fun in it. So, the stubborn MN Lutheran in me is dedicated on keeping it fun. In the hours and hours I've been spending riding according to "zones"... I've had some time to think about how to keep each zone fun. Other than the obvious answer by keeping most your training outdoors....MUSIC! Playlists are key. Smiling helps too.

I've come up with a fool proof Zone/Genre guide to keeping bicycle practice fun.

Zone 1: This is the "am I even moving" zone. Classical music or a book on tape is a good approach here.... something that won't rev you up and keep you under control. Try Nora Jones or Bon Iver

Zone 2: This is the zone that apparently we have to stay in for the majority of the off season; harder than it sounds. I decided reggae is the best for Zone 2... a good relaxing beat that's a notch up from napping music. Obviously Bob Marley is a Zone 2 choice favorite.

From Zone three on, if you're at a lost you can always resort to Lady Gaga or Shakira... shake it beats.

Zone 3: In this zone I find the best is a plethora of tunes... just keep yourself interested in what you're doing. You're not soft pedaling, and your not dropping the hammer. Hit your pandora 'quick mix' to get a good variety. Exclude anything zone 1 in the mix.

Zone 4: Zone 4 is almost red zone, not quite your "I'm probably going to hit the wall if I stay here much longer"... so I say a good club mix; yes... techno-or anything you could stay out dancing to until 4am. You're not here long, mostly interval work... maybe recover with some Zone 2 in between Zone 4 bouts.

Zone 5: This zone is full on red zone, race pace! I'm not an angry music fan, but I think that the angrier the better in this zone. Something you can really visualize a good airkick to.

So... there you have my take on proper music genre by Zone training. Enjoy! Happy pedaling!

Taking my time. Riding a bike.

In a world consumed with the unsettling feeling of constant ‘corporate’ ladder climbing; I’ve had the pleasure of falling off the route at a young age… a few times. This ‘route’ typically being conjured up by the age of 18-22. At that age our decisions are heavily biased with family, religion, relationships, and society. Most haven’t left the comforts of their hometown, friend circles, or even state. A key factor that’s missing would be ones sense of self. This definition of ‘self’ is still that which has been molded by our upbringing, fitting quite nicely in a confined little box. What I’ve come to terms with is that I don’t really fit into a box, and when the walls start building up around me, I want nothing but to break them down.

This has rung true in a lot of my life, and with my recent jump I’m trying to work on being more mindful of taking my time. Bringing me back to that little word I believe should be in the 4-letter category; patience. Knowing that all my choices I’ve made good or bad, thought out or rash, have all lead me to where I am right now… and that is exactly where I need to be.

What has stood by me through these constant life re-routing is my bike, well a few different bikes… but two wheels nonetheless. Of course, family and friends are always and will always be there; but time on my bike is the one place where I feel like I can think clearly and process the input, criticism, and all else that’s thrown my way with my lofty goals. These goals that may not be completely understood by everyone, but to me they give me a purpose. A purpose that is far from my original plan, but a purpose that will continue to grow and change… with Time. Patience. And a bicycle.

Here it goes...

So, I'm back. Surprise!

Coming back to the happy valley has been more of a process than I thought it would be. Of course I'm happy to now be around family, friends, and the fresh mountain air. There just seems to be this looming feeling of, "What the hell just happened?!?" as a mere six months ago I thought I was moving away for my dream job. Bright eyed and with a bubble view of what the future would hold. I had sold everything that didn't fit in my little Jeep Liberty and made my way further west to a little gem called The Bay Area; a true leap of faith.

This leap proposed many new challenges that I wasn't accustomed to. The job details aside, I was finding myself adjusting to "city life". I consider myself pretty independent and adventurous, but it actually took me quite sometime to venture into the city to dip my toes in San Fran culture, art, variety, amazing food, etc. All of this was very foreign to a Minnesota born "farm girl" turn Colorado "mountain girl"... and now?!?! San Fran "city girl!?!?".... I found myself constantly at a state of stress trying to find my way around, seeking out genuine relationships, keeping and sharing a positive outlook at work, and maintaining some sort of fitness and fun balance on my bike. The fact of the matter is, I couldn't keep it all together.

Most assured me I had to give a transition like that at least a year; well I hit the halfway mark and just couldn't do it anymore. I had woken up far too many foggy mornings without the lustrous passion to ride. I wasn't happy; things needed to change.

As my days left in The Bay became fewer and fewer I started to see the positive effect I had. Funny how when you're so concerned about the things you're not doing, you lose sight of the positive shifts and affects you are creating in the "now". Good moment to remind yourself, "Do

not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment." Buddha.

The fact of the matter is The Bay Area is an amazing place, filled with spectacular people, phenomenal riding, and opportunities that a mountain town unfortunately could never foster. The magnitude of adventure isn't quite the same as being in the center of multiple 14k peaks, but really nowhere is... so it's not worth the comparison.

I am grateful for the bonds that were created in the past six months, and happy to know those relationships and experiences will keep me motivated and moving forward. The women's cycling industry is something that's just beginning to grow and my passion to promote and foster other women's love for two wheels will never be lost... In some way, I'll always be involved.

So...sometimes things don't work out exactly the way we plan them... but we always have the choice to make changes... and when we leave a place, we can always go back.

KJ

LT100

This past Saturday's attempt in racing the LT100 resulted in more of a long, painful, grueling slogging tour of Leadville. Sounds fun, right? Well, those are just a few of the feelings I went through and although the day is foggy and bits and pieces are falling through the cracks; I'll try to recap...

So, first of all how did I get myself into this? Well, a few weeks ago I thought it would be a great idea to do a Leadville Qualifying race in Tahoe. Since moving away, I've been a bit homesick and thought the best of both worlds would be to race and visit the friendly faces of home. I pulled off a decent time and placed in Tahoe to get me a spot in Leadville, so blindly I took it. Little did I know that although a 100k race took little training and commitment, a 100 mile race above 10,000ft would take much more to perform at what I feel my ability would be. A painful lesson I'll never forget.

The days leading up to the race I didn't really feel 100%. I have acquired this new feeling called "stress"; that tightness in the chest, never fully rested feeling that seems to infest your day to day once you live in a busy area. When it came to race day, I knew I wasn't where I needed to be physically to do my best but my stubborn nature still convinced myself this was going to be great and I was feeling fresh as a daisy.

The gun went off to start this 100 mile tour of Leadville, and the day in the saddle began. It was a relatively fast pace but being in a big pack I was able to suck some wheels to the dirt of the first climb up St. Kevins. Normally I love climbing. Typically feeling fast and light up steep terrain, but on this day I was feeling more like I was inching a downhill bike up Vail Pass while breathing through a straw. This is where I kept telling myself to smile, it hurts less when you smile. Bummer this technique wasn't quite working.

photo credit: Linda Guerrette

After the second climb, I kept looking forward to descending Powerline knowing it was a bit of a relief. Little did I know that falling back in the pack would prevent any kind of "letting go" or fun on the descent. So, there started the first of many "factory line" scenes of the day. Hitting the bottom of the descent and rolling on I tried to keep telling myself I'd start to feel better, I'd catch my breath, and my legs would wake up. Rolling along, I came to the first familiar face and sign of salvage; Colorado friend, athlete, and general great support Rachel. I'm not sure what overcame me, but as I stopped and shed my vest gave her a hug, I couldn't catch my breathing and started hyperventilating; a repeat of what had already happened a couple times prior to seeing Rach. Gasping for words I asked how far the next aid station was where our other friend Amy and her family were waiting. I didn't think I could make it. Thoughts of quitting #1. Rachel wouldn't listen to my whimpering and pushed me back on my bike. True friend.

More pedaling and more hurting... my concept of time or anything fun during the two stations are inexistent. Rolling through Twin Lakes gave me a touch of energy as crowds of support lined each side of the road. With blurs of cheers on either side, trying to smile, and have some fun I pedaled through knowing Amy and family were past all the crowds closer to the climb of Columbine. Seeing the familiar faces, I got off my bike and immediately said, "I'm done"..."this isn't fun"... and the tears rolled. "There's no crying in baseball" ?!?! Quitting attempt#2. Little did I know, Amy wouldn't take pity on my weakness, and wouldn't have any of my rantings. Another true friend. I went back to my bike with my tail between my legs and told myself, "just go to the top and enjoy the view, you can quit after that". I rolled on.

[Amy Owens is a good friend of mine from Colorado and general badass. She's completed LT100 two years in a row now on a single speed. Yes, one gear. She's been a great support through this last minute decision on doing the race with her detailed emails on what to expect. Everyone in the Vail community knows her as both mentally and physically strong, which has been tested with health complications resulting in recent brain surgery, and preventing her from competing this year. Her attitude towards it all is a tremendous inspiration. The hardest part about wanting to quit was and still is having shown weakness around someone so strong.]

The climb up Columbine was demoralizing, and a great time to start the day of cramping. Both adductors were on a time clock of cramping every 20 minutes, I'd attempt to pedal through, then have to get off my bike and try trigger points to get my muscles to stop jumping around. As I'd attempt to pedal through it, this is where not one but two men at different parts of the climb passed me and said, "Aren't you the girl from Tahoe, aren't you suppose to be fast?!?". Thanks guys. After a far too long stretch of "factory line" Columbine hiking that I had just ridden a few days prior...and I was finally at the top. As I sat there with a view of the rest of the course, I thought to myself, I'm done... this is stupid; not healthy, what am I doing? Quit attempt#3. With a quick descent back to Amy and her family, I was hyperventilating again and everything hurt. Attempt#4. This is where my thoughts went from "this is stupid" to "this is horrible". With Amy, Rachel, and Jon's coaching and trickery I was convinced to "spin" to Pipeline. Amy's words, "It's all downhill to the next stop".... lies.

I don't remember much of the next stretch, and as I came to my friends again I put my bike down and said, "you can't trick me this time, I'm really done". Attempt #5. I curled up into a ball as my muscles were all locked up and apparently it was really hot as all I asked for was ice. This is truly the worse I've ever felt on my bike; dizzy, sick, cramping not to

mention emotionally a wreck. "Hot mess express" and "that girl" could be used to describe my state. Once again, I was tricked by my friends. This time it was Amy's soon to be 7 year old who fooled me into getting back on my bike with this statement.

"Karen... when I'm at a really long day at soccer camp... and... I'm really

tired... and want to go home... I don't quit."

I had to go on. Well, I went on with the promise from Jon that if I were still feeling so terrible a half mile down the road that they'd be right behind me to pick me up. So, I rolled a half mile down the road with continuous cramps. Got off my bike... and shamefully laid on the side of the road, cramping, and waiting. Attempt#6. They never came. Tricked again.

Back on the bike, and the pain actually let up a little. Knowing I was stuck to finish, my perspective started to switch. I got closer to the Powerline climb and knowing people would be there, I couldn't be such a wimp anymore. That's when I took a PBR handoff from the shirtless drunk guy running alongside the trail, my smile was back, and climbed the lower portion of Powerline passing the "factory line" of hikers. I vaguely remember one man saying, "I thought you were dead on the side of the road... now you're riding this!?!?". The power of PBR and a smile I suppose?

Fast Forward to not much descending, more cramping, and two more attempts at quitting, and I could see the finish line! Delirious, dehydrated, and just disappointed in myself I happily handed my bike away and went straight to my friends. I finished in 10:59, and hour before the cut off. Medal, belt buckle, cold beer, and great company... my smile was back; but was still cursing the race.

This has been my first disappointing performance and has taken me a few days to process it all. First lesson is that this is not the kind of race to just jump into. I'm far too new to racing to not race all summer and decide to do the LT100 3 weeks before race day. The next, is an obvious one and one any endurance athlete knows. EAT! 400 calories is not enough for 100 miles above 10,000 ft... if you're not hungry, you have no option but to force food. Proper nutrition in a race like this is crucial. Another lesson is a great point brought up to me by Josiah Middaugh a top national XTERRA athlete and friend. "Take away what you can. You don't learn anything from winning." This phrase along with encouraging words from many good friends in Colorado made me really think and process not only the race, but everything each painful pedal stroke brought up throughout the day.

I'm still processing it all... but the most important part of the week being back to Colorado made me realize how fortunate I am to have such a supportive family, group of friends, and community believing in me. I can't be so rough on myself and have to look back and just be happy with finishing, regardless of how long it took me. I also need to let go of other people's expectations, opinions, and comments; I don't race for these reasons so why should I let it get to me so much? HTFU

So, there you have it. I'm sorry it's not all stars and stripes, butterflies and rainbows... but that was my day and its in the books. Thank you to the amazing friends and family who were there to help me through it.