Last weekend I had the pleasure of hosting a friend and skiing at Vail for three days in a row. Although it is still early season, the conditions were beautiful - although maybe I'm thinking that because it's my first debut skiing out West since spending the last two seasons in the East - but then again, maybe not. We absolutely tore it up. Here's a clip of skiing in Vail, a lil peek at what we got into.
Sunday morning brought a nice suprise of 9 inches of fresh snow. It seemed like soft swirling of snow the entire day before, the kind that never hits the ground, but somehow it built up over night.
Monday morning we hit the trail early with Zion, my mountain dog. He usually gets to run around without working but since seeing two coyotes at the base of Peak 8 in Breckenridge a couple of weeks ago, he's now learning the meaning of "earn your turns." Check out the sick harness.
I wanted to imbed the video and images for you but due to technical errors, I'm sharing links today instead. More coming about skinning up Peak 8 in Breckenridge.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
My Brother is Home
We walk through life with immense power and ability; yet when it is taken from us we are at thee mercy.
Over the loud speaker the stuartess announced 'please be respectful as we honor the fallen soldier who we have transported tonight.'
Silence shot through the hearts of those who watched. His comrades in dress uniform stood by the family as the casket was lowered from the plane and moved across the tarmac. Standing witness, my father wept.
The pilots say that they could hear his screams over the radio commands and blade slap.
My brother's legs hung freely out of the helicopter, as did his comrade's. A moment later he was responding to an unexpected rescue - his own comrade's leg was shot in two places from the ground. The mission was aborted.
I stood at the airport waiting. Waiting to see him.
Amidst the commotion and anticipation
I saw him from afar
and tears fell down my face.
Over the loud speaker the stuartess announced 'please be respectful as we honor the fallen soldier who we have transported tonight.'
Silence shot through the hearts of those who watched. His comrades in dress uniform stood by the family as the casket was lowered from the plane and moved across the tarmac. Standing witness, my father wept.
The pilots say that they could hear his screams over the radio commands and blade slap.
My brother's legs hung freely out of the helicopter, as did his comrade's. A moment later he was responding to an unexpected rescue - his own comrade's leg was shot in two places from the ground. The mission was aborted.
I stood at the airport waiting. Waiting to see him.
Amidst the commotion and anticipation
I saw him from afar
and tears fell down my face.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Good Life
My two year return-to-Boston anniversary is coming up and as I think back on the time I've spent here I worry that I used the love and support of my family and friends selfishly to heal from a broken heart. But when I think back on the things that I did, I accomplished much more. I saw my two best friends get married and one have a baby, I trained like a maniac and I have endless memories of the beautiful and historic rolling hills of northwest Boston. I completed an Ironman. I spent lots of time with my family and I've met some really great people. I got a new and more fulfilling job and I moved to Charlestown and became a toonie.
It's easy to be nostalgic about the wonderful things we've done and seen. Just yesterday I was looking at pictures from Jackson Hole and Colorado and it left me in a sad place. I think about all the opportunities that I've had, where I am today and if I've taken the right path. My dad said yesterday, "The past doesn't matter because it's gone. What matters is what we do today and every day moving forward."
I feel guilty.
I want to go but I feel like if I do I'm giving up on this place. To whom or what? I don't know. Perhaps it's the effort - the chance that I'm giving Boston to become my home - and the realization that I don't want it. I think about what my life would be like if I settle here and my gut tells me that I don't want it. I want true freedom and the opportunity to make decisions without feeling like I have a pre-existing path set forth for me.
Boston is beautiful. But it's hard.
I took a walk in the woods yesterday with my mom and Zion, and she said "It seems like you have a heavy blanket on you. I can feel your sadness and I don't want that for you. If you think you're going to be happy in Colorado, then I want you to go. But I don't want you to go if you're going to be sad there too."
I put effort into being happy.
It's not easy to be happy here. There are road blocks. Attitudes that make it hard to go with the flow and unwind, get loose.
It's a lifestyle that I'm seeking.
In Colorado, the days are longer, the air is clearer, the vibe is open and playful. The skies are blue and the mountains are ever present. Existence is natural.
I don't want to go for the wrong reasons.
There is much that I would be leaving behind and it saddens me. But I see peace and freedom ahead of me.
It's easy to be nostalgic about the wonderful things we've done and seen. Just yesterday I was looking at pictures from Jackson Hole and Colorado and it left me in a sad place. I think about all the opportunities that I've had, where I am today and if I've taken the right path. My dad said yesterday, "The past doesn't matter because it's gone. What matters is what we do today and every day moving forward."
I feel guilty.
I want to go but I feel like if I do I'm giving up on this place. To whom or what? I don't know. Perhaps it's the effort - the chance that I'm giving Boston to become my home - and the realization that I don't want it. I think about what my life would be like if I settle here and my gut tells me that I don't want it. I want true freedom and the opportunity to make decisions without feeling like I have a pre-existing path set forth for me.
Boston is beautiful. But it's hard.
I took a walk in the woods yesterday with my mom and Zion, and she said "It seems like you have a heavy blanket on you. I can feel your sadness and I don't want that for you. If you think you're going to be happy in Colorado, then I want you to go. But I don't want you to go if you're going to be sad there too."
I put effort into being happy.
It's not easy to be happy here. There are road blocks. Attitudes that make it hard to go with the flow and unwind, get loose.
It's a lifestyle that I'm seeking.
In Colorado, the days are longer, the air is clearer, the vibe is open and playful. The skies are blue and the mountains are ever present. Existence is natural.
I don't want to go for the wrong reasons.
There is much that I would be leaving behind and it saddens me. But I see peace and freedom ahead of me.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Rise Above
Have you ever been so engaged with the moment that little things like listening to a song you've heard a thousand times strikes you in a deeper way?
As I sit here tonight, breathing in life, I'm enchanted by the Stevie Nicks lyrics playing from pandora.
After Jackson Hole I spent years in Colorado on my own adventure. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. In my mind's eye I see all the beautiful places that I have been but I don't know if I ever truly appreciated them in the moment. Tonight, as I sit here in Boston, I imagine what my reflection really looked liked during that time.
When my last relationship brought me down, I left that beautiful place and came home to where I grew up. When I imagine my reflection I see myself paddling through the ocean tides and washing about in the seasons of my life, seamingly moving yet in the same place.
Now almost two years later, I'm asking myself can the child within my heart rise above?
Mmm, mmm, mmm
So dearly I want to go back to where it's beautiful and where my heart feels free, to the man who I thought was perfect. But I can't. I can't go back to that because it doesn't exist. And I am afraid of changing because Boston now I've built my life around you. But I have asked the child within my heart to rise above; to project light and happiness, to smile at those around me and to say hello to the passerby. I'm practicing and it's my turn to radiate a light that shines on everyone else. Time makes you bolder, and I'm getting stronger too.
As I sit here tonight, breathing in life, I'm enchanted by the Stevie Nicks lyrics playing from pandora.
I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?I'm thinking about love had, love lost and the love I never pursued. There was one who I met years ago in Jackson Hole who struck me as a Tom Sawyer type - happy, free, a true mountain man. He struck me as the type who I could never catch... always off on another exploit romping along the tops of mountains, catching fish in the streams, happily singing along on his guitar. His joy radiated outward so that everyone could see it. I thought he was perfect, but I never tried to gain his attention. Ironically he's now married and has a child. Not trying and now not knowing what could have been is one of my deepest regrets.
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm, mmm, mmm
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older and I'm getting older too
After Jackson Hole I spent years in Colorado on my own adventure. I climbed a mountain and I turned around. In my mind's eye I see all the beautiful places that I have been but I don't know if I ever truly appreciated them in the moment. Tonight, as I sit here in Boston, I imagine what my reflection really looked liked during that time.
When my last relationship brought me down, I left that beautiful place and came home to where I grew up. When I imagine my reflection I see myself paddling through the ocean tides and washing about in the seasons of my life, seamingly moving yet in the same place.
Now almost two years later, I'm asking myself can the child within my heart rise above?
Mmm, mmm, mmm
So dearly I want to go back to where it's beautiful and where my heart feels free, to the man who I thought was perfect. But I can't. I can't go back to that because it doesn't exist. And I am afraid of changing because Boston now I've built my life around you. But I have asked the child within my heart to rise above; to project light and happiness, to smile at those around me and to say hello to the passerby. I'm practicing and it's my turn to radiate a light that shines on everyone else. Time makes you bolder, and I'm getting stronger too.
So, take my love, take it down...then breathe in life around. Listen to that song playing on pandora and enjoy those lyrics that connect you to the ground.
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm, mmm, mmm
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A Traveler's Woes
A single desk is set mechanically in front of the window and neatly set with two glasses glowing with sterile coldness. The ice cube container, small black waste basket and battered green apple accessorize my view. A white glare separates me from the outside world.
Protected by the sheer floor to ceiling curtains and clean familiar hotel room, I can’t help but think that I could be anywhere.
From the middle seat on the airplane I blew my nose, read my book and nervously fiddled with my eyebrows. My legs became jumpy and two trips later to the bathroom I still had an hour and a half left until arrival. I thought, “ugh, is it really worth taking these long layover flights just to use the same airline so that I gain status next year?” I sat in my seat a little longer.
A glimpse out the window told me that we were in the North West. Big cratered mountains blanketed with snow, even now in mid May, reminded me how much I missed Jackson Hole. Thinking of the serenity, peace and wild beauty of the land brought me back to a time that was simple and free.
I still think about moving back. What it would be like…if I would enjoy it again. Why do I live in Boston again? Oh yes, my family and friends… would I be able to move away… away from them? What’s better? To live simply or stay near love and support?
Shuffling through the terminal I’m lugging my heavy laptop bag and hippie purse filled with magazines and books. Still lethargic from being sick I trudge to the bathroom, to the water fountain… ugh there is no water fountain… buy another water…trudge to the baggage claim… trudge to find a taxi. The Westin Seattle, please.
I don’t want to be here. Texting, facebooking, checking email.... anything to stay busy. Looking out the window, the trees look different here - they’re bigger, greener, healthier… ahh, the west. I’m so far away from Boston.
I’m waiting in line again to check in to the hotel. Yes, please, thank you, where’s the workout room? Ok, thank you. Up to my room. I feel like I’m back at the airport lounge.
Frick it, I’ll just grab my wallet and go outside to get some fresh air.
Ahh, the sunlight – something we haven’t had in Boston much this spring. I should take this in especially since it’s currently raining in Boston. I walk towards Pike’s Market – an outdoor market similar to Faneuil Hall except more artsy and natural and alive. The shops are bustling with activity and the different types of food lure me to the windows. I bought a pear that never tasted so healthy then found myself at a little outdoor café, eating and listening to a young guitarist belt out his creative ideas on life.
I didn’t want to leave.
Now I’m back in my hotel room...alone… eating my green apple and restless from the day of travel. The nagging feeling work that is yet to be done keeps me nailed in place. Alas there is nothing left to do but prepare for another day.
Protected by the sheer floor to ceiling curtains and clean familiar hotel room, I can’t help but think that I could be anywhere.
From the middle seat on the airplane I blew my nose, read my book and nervously fiddled with my eyebrows. My legs became jumpy and two trips later to the bathroom I still had an hour and a half left until arrival. I thought, “ugh, is it really worth taking these long layover flights just to use the same airline so that I gain status next year?” I sat in my seat a little longer.
A glimpse out the window told me that we were in the North West. Big cratered mountains blanketed with snow, even now in mid May, reminded me how much I missed Jackson Hole. Thinking of the serenity, peace and wild beauty of the land brought me back to a time that was simple and free.
I still think about moving back. What it would be like…if I would enjoy it again. Why do I live in Boston again? Oh yes, my family and friends… would I be able to move away… away from them? What’s better? To live simply or stay near love and support?
Shuffling through the terminal I’m lugging my heavy laptop bag and hippie purse filled with magazines and books. Still lethargic from being sick I trudge to the bathroom, to the water fountain… ugh there is no water fountain… buy another water…trudge to the baggage claim… trudge to find a taxi. The Westin Seattle, please.
I don’t want to be here. Texting, facebooking, checking email.... anything to stay busy. Looking out the window, the trees look different here - they’re bigger, greener, healthier… ahh, the west. I’m so far away from Boston.
I’m waiting in line again to check in to the hotel. Yes, please, thank you, where’s the workout room? Ok, thank you. Up to my room. I feel like I’m back at the airport lounge.
Frick it, I’ll just grab my wallet and go outside to get some fresh air.
Ahh, the sunlight – something we haven’t had in Boston much this spring. I should take this in especially since it’s currently raining in Boston. I walk towards Pike’s Market – an outdoor market similar to Faneuil Hall except more artsy and natural and alive. The shops are bustling with activity and the different types of food lure me to the windows. I bought a pear that never tasted so healthy then found myself at a little outdoor café, eating and listening to a young guitarist belt out his creative ideas on life.
I didn’t want to leave.
Now I’m back in my hotel room...alone… eating my green apple and restless from the day of travel. The nagging feeling work that is yet to be done keeps me nailed in place. Alas there is nothing left to do but prepare for another day.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Race Schedule 2011
Confirmed races:
March 12 – CMSC Masters Swim Race, 1000M at Blodgett
May 15 - Gloucester Half Marathon
July 9 – Black Fly OT
July 17 – Fairlee, VT OT
August 27 – D2R2 - The Deerfield Dirt Road Randonnee (72 mi)
Sept 10 – Lobsterman OT
March 12 – CMSC Masters Swim Race, 1000M at Blodgett
May 15 - Gloucester Half Marathon
July 9 – Black Fly OT
July 17 – Fairlee, VT OT
August 27 – D2R2 - The Deerfield Dirt Road Randonnee (72 mi)
Sept 10 – Lobsterman OT
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