It feels pretty weird to be sitting in front of the computer again for the purpose of blasting my life out onto the internet. And scary. And cathartic.
Why such a long break? Maybe because I ran out of things to say about heartache, cancer and bike racing.
Or maybe it was the uncharacteristic lack of major drama in my life over the last 8-9 months. I went to work (which I enjoy), spent time with my friends (whom I enjoy) and rode my bike (what I enjoy). I drank too much, discovered yoga (which has changed my life-more on that later) and had approximately a relationship and a half. I survived my first three trials (actually, I killed it) and learned to do a tripod headstand. 2011 was a good year for just keeping the boat afloat and on the river.
I hit a year of remission on October 17, 2011. I cried a lot that day.
Somehow I feel like I quietly became a different person over the last year, and I'm struggling to describe it in writing (having sat here for 45 minutes now, writing and rewriting and erasing). I think the best way to put it is that I'm finally learning to get out of my own way.
I'm the most consistently peaceful and stress free that I can remember being, ever. I still have my moments of excruciating loneliness and road rage, but those are fewer and far between.
So, this blog. I think the best way for me to work through the new way of being that I am experiencing is to write and to share the things that my damaged self has a hard time expressing in words.
So bear with me for a while as I hash this out and incoherently wax and wane poetic about whatever yoga book I am reading. But rest assured, I do plan on racing my bike this year and no mountain bike ride is complete without Lindsay crashing into something.
