There is a lot to share with you about my racing and training life, but I
just can’t bring myself to do it right now.
On Sunday morning, I was getting ready for my 50ish-mile ride, going through the usual routine: drinking coffee, getting dressed, and checking Ye Olde Facebooke. I noticed that an old friend had contacted me during the night, and I didn’t think a lot of it until I read her message: another mutual friend had passed away.
I don't believe it gets any easier as we age, but when you're in your 20's and 30's, everyone - especially someone like him - is so full of youthful spirit and energy that you never expect to hear that one of us is gone.
Cycling is like therapy, so my amazing ride took my mind off things, but I didn't get much done after that; I just couldn't shake off the shock. I hadn't spoken with him in a while, but we were close after our respective divorces, and before that, when we were both married, we used to hang out in a big group.
He was one of those people you never forget. The perennial class clown, he would tell funny stories, send random texts or call from time to time just to make us laugh. He always had another plan for an exciting project with his truck, his motorcycle, or just for the weekend.
As the day wore on, I realized that my sadness was as much for his passing as it was for the closing of a major chapter of my life. During the day I talked with a few friends from those days; we searched for pictures of our group at different parties and get-togethers. Nearly all of them showed us younger, some of us at different weights and with other hairstyles, many of us a lot less polished and mature; but, in all of them, he was having a blast.
His life, and the news of his death, had a massive impact on me as someone who has spent the vast majority of her life 1) caring what other people think and 2) struggling to live in the present, instead of re-hashing the past or stressing over the future. He sure didn’t care about either one of those things; he was boldly, unapologetically, authentic - and he lived his life completely in the moment.
And now, with a giant part of my past permanently sealed, it seems that this is my cue to do the same.
I feel like I owe it to him to at least keep trying.
My heart goes out to his family and loved ones . . . I know that his little sister adored him and he is survived by a family and famly of friends who will never forget him.
As you know, I end the first blog of the week with an excerpt from song lyrics that capture the tone of the past few days. This Week in Song Lyrics is brought to you from the group that performed at my first real concert.
How can I say goodbye to what we had?
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad
I thought we’d get to see forever
But forever’s gone away
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday. . .
If we'd get to see tomorrow
I hope it's worth all the wait
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday . . .
-Boyz II Men, It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday
2 tidbits of wizdom:
These things are never easy, Chica. I am sure he's delighted to know you thought so highly of him. Perhaps we do get desensitized to it with age. Like the band Perry says, it's not how much time you got, but what you do with it that counts.
(hugs)
These things are never easy, Chica. I am sure he's delighted to know you thought so highly of him. Perhaps we do get desensitized to it with age. Like the band Perry says, it's not how much time you got, but what you do with it that counts.
(hugs)
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