Uncovering my past and healing my shit

Is this mic on? Can you hear me?

It may have been nearly a year since the last time I posted in this blog, but that doesn't mean I haven't stopped writing. Oh HELL NO. In fact, despite my eagerness to get back to writing in this little space of the webosphere, I have been making a point to indulge in the real deal daily - pen and paper, which consequently, I'm extremely particular about. So much so that I will not even ATTEMPT to write unless I have my beloved Precise V5 Extra Fine Point Rolling Ballpoint pen in hand. This one has a peek-a-boo window that looks into the cartridge, (which reminds me of my calligraphy days), where I can see just how much ink I have left. I keep one pen saving my place in each journal I write in. I sorta have multiple love affairs simultaneously happening although, I think my pens are jealous of my keyboard. My keyboard sees way more action, especially at work.

So these multiple love affairs with pen and ink and journals are very much my sac…

Living Sinking In

Summer is almost gone. It's been one year since I left the life I knew. In fact, I celebrated my Independence Day last week at a blues club downtown. It was a sorta "date night" with myself. I found a club with a band I wanted to see, got "date" ready, and while having to be designated driver was a pain in the ass, the conversation that night (at least in my head) was never dull. Actually, I'm a damn good date. I will definitely be asking myself out again. Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky next time.

So this "date night" with myself was an act of self love. The last few months have been challenging for me. My life decisions have begun to settle and cure, and I haven't the courage to pull away the forms supporting them yet. I'm waiting until my heart can handle the permanence. I've been experiencing some not so fun anxiety side affects and am having to find ways to cope. While self love has been difficult at times I'm grateful to …

Leadville Love

Well, "HELLO" Colorado! There's something about being REALLY high that makes me REALLY happy and I'm not talking time warping, catatonic, zombie-like state of high (although that's fun too), I'm talking hard work, earn-that-360-degree-view, high altitude high.

You know that stoke list I've been working on? Well, Colorado happened to be on it.

For years I've been wanting to visit Colorado, and even more specifically, Leadville, after reading about the notorious 100 miler in the book Born to Run by Christopher McDougal. But as a skiier, I've been even more intrigued by stories of the prized airy, fresh powder which, I've been told, is a contrast to our "Sierra Cement" which I am so used to.

My trip to Colorado was inspired by my newfound realizations that life is something to be lived and not suffered through. I'm done suffering. I'm done crying. I'm done feeling helpless. I'm ready to feed my soul and I want to feed it…

The Adventure Stoke Commences

I am reinventing myself again.
About a month ago I began to feel a sense of freedom that I haven't felt in a long time. A REAL long time. I had an epiphany. I suddenly realized I was feeding a cycle of hurt that was holding me back. I finally decided to man the fuck up and do something about it. I quit the cycle. It's funny how we like to nurture our pain. But when you constantly feed the pain the wound is always weeping. You will never heal in that state. Salt in the wounds feels so good but sometimes you gotta learn to let it go.
Looking Forward I had to make a conscious effort to look beyond the hurt and start making better decisions for myself. It's a very tough decision, but you will never make it to the other side if you never take the leap. The other side can be scary and something completely estranged from what you know, but that's because you haven't jumped. Once you're there, it's all you know.
The shock and awe of my life decisions are settling …

Rising From the Ashes of the Undead

I pretty much faded away to nothing.

I just disappeared. Stopped writing. Stopped sharing. I guess in a way I stopped living. I was frantically trying to fix my shit. But in actuality, I was in the middle of a maze-like chaos. Like a dying rat bumping into corners looking for the the last bit of food to sustain itself. I took my last breath. Now it's like I'm on the operating table in the O.R. I'm being shocked back into living. I can see the lights above me blurry and intense. I'm beginning to feel the pain from the fractures and broken bones surfacing from the numb.

Fuck my heart hurts.

I'm bruised, broken, and bleeding. But I'm alive.


So I've experienced a sort of death recently, although, if I'm being truly honest, it felt like I died and was resuscitated several times over during the past ten years. It was my decision to end my marriage. I spent the last 20 years with an incredible man. A good soul. A wonderful father. A very thoughtful and giv…

Those Last Miles - The Transformation

I was recently volunteering at The Rio Del Lago 100 Miler and everything was business. A wave of runners had come through our aid station and every volunteer was on point filling bottles, ladling soup, restocking the table or rummaging through bins for band-aids or other random items. Every runner was diligently being taken care of. After sending a runner off with a breakfast burrito and a full pack, I turned to walk back to the warmest part of the tent. My toes were numb and frozen. I glanced off to the side of the cooking area where a lone runner sat, eyes fixated blankly out into the darkness beyond the tent. 

Something in me connected with him.
The distant stare of an ultrarunner who has just arrived at mile 87 is profound. Fatigue and determination have stripped them raw by that point. They peer into nothingness with an intensity that is indescribable. Maybe they are surveying the miles of wreckage inflicted on their body or game planning on how to cope with a sour stomach. Maybe t…

What's New, Stupid Foot?

It's been over a month since I finished that 50 miler and it still feels like there's a piece of gravel embedded deep in my forefoot.I've decided I would embrace a prosthetic right now. Please, I'll buck up and do the gory hacking of my foot off if someone would gladly donate a bionic foot for me. Really. I've had it.

So, obviously, I haven't been running lately. What's new, right?

Instead, I've been vending at local races, working full time, hanging out with my boyfriend Megaphone, taking care of family stuff, and trying to be as consistent as possible with the gym. I miss having goals though, but until my foot is back to normal I don't feel comfortable putting anything out there I can't do right now. This neuroma is unpredictable and I can't say when, if ever, it will be back to it's normal, dormant self.

This fucking sucks.

But oh well. At least I have the gym and its not like I ran much before anyway.

So I will be doing more cerebral thin…