I'll spare you all the gory details, but on July 3rd, my life changed in a catastrophic way. My husband, Matt, was injured in a helicopter crash while at work as a flight nurse. He was lucky, but had to be flown to Denver for emergency surgery.
The first words he spoke after the anesthesia started wearing off were concerned questions about his co-workers.
Later that night, he started lamenting that our summer biking trip to the Pacific Northwest would have to be cancelled. Then he started telling me that I had to keep racing and stay on the bike, because I could. No pressure.
Despite Matt's wishes, I had a really hard time training for all of July and most of August. By, hard time, I mean it didn't happen. Family came to visit, Matt came home from the hospital, and the summer slipped away before I knew it. Enduro World Series Crested Butte, instead of the culmination of my first year racing pro and a chance to shine in one of my favorite places to ride, ended in tragedy (with the death of a racer), and left all of us questioning why we race. Mid-August found me feeling depressed and not myself.
The ride down was harrowing. Surfing steep scree and loose dirt will give you forearm pump before you know it. There was actually some hike-a-bike on the way down too. But it was worth it. I needed an adventure in a very bad way.
Suffice it to say that I overcame the inertia. I got back in the saddle about 2 weeks ago. Riding bikes is a magical potion that has the power to cure me.
I'm back to riding and adventuring. So that means I'm back to blogging.
Stay tuned. Here's a taste of what I've been doing for the past 2 weeks.