Welcome Home.

"Inhale, plank. 
Exhale, chaturanga.  
Inhale, updog.  
Exhale, downward dog."

The room was filled with glistening bodies as we lost ourselves in the beat of deep House music and the subtlety of our breath.  My mat was inches from Mike, a fellow cyclist who had introduced me to this studio and instructor.  Synchronized together, we flowed from Warrior I to Warrior II pose.

Imagine this- but sans the ocean waves...

I could hear the instructor's deep voice- "Be brave.  Be strong."

My mind focused only on the rhythmic movement of my body, in sync with my breath.  Sweat droplets streamed down my body and face, mixing with my tears.  It was a cathartic release from the earlier events of the day- coming to terms with the abrupt closure in a relationship dear to my heart, and the looming uncertainties with my foot within the scheme of Ironman.

On the mat I realized that with closure in one area , there is always room for new opportunities in other areas.  I relaxed into a space of non-judgement, neutrality, and acceptance.  In that moment, I let go.

Inhale, exhale.  Ebb and flow.  The ending of a sequence leads to the opening of another- both on and off the mat.

We continued the sun salutation sequence on our own, each connecting with the rhythm of our own bodies and breath.  We all met each other in downward-facing dog, taking three deep breaths.  That's when I heard the instructor's voice again, resounding with a quiet strength that gave me shivers since it fit so well with my state of bliss- "Welcome home."

Saturday's 10-hour training session followed suite- a long swim, bike and water run where I hoped to be in the same mental space- one of acceptance, neutrality and non-judgement.

I knew I needed a solo ride to prove to myself that I could endure a mentally and physically long day without the playful stories and jokes of training partners (aka. awesome distractions from the distance/course/screaming legs).  I packed the ipod shuffle as back-up, just in case my mind turned negative and I needed to shut it off.  I had people praying for my safety and specifically, that I would have positive thoughts running through my head during the long day.

I had one of the best rides I've experienced all season.  I rode my favorite routes- the same familiar winding roads that healed my broken heart and that were shared with dear friends.  I was reminded of all the good company throughout the years and all the people in my life who have helped me get this far.  I found my rhythm, my breath, and effortlessly pedaled up hills that I remember being difficult in the past.  As I crested up to the top of the hill to Skyline, I pedaled past the point where I had fallen over, clipped in, after sheer exhaustion from climbing back in 2009 (thanks, Merrick!).

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.  May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." -Edward Abbey

My legs kept pedaling, I was smiling, and mentally was in a space of absolute gratitude- thankful for the coaches I've had in my life, for my squadmates, for PK (who taught me that yoga is so much more than asanas), and for my family.  

I rode into Danville, past my crash site from last year- and was reminded of how grateful I was for my safety and for the SAG support I had for that day.  The day ended with a 2 hour water run.

The proof is in the pudding, err, pruney fingers.

On Friday, Coach warned me that the 10-hour day could bring out a lot emotionally for me.  These past few weeks have been littered in self-doubt, negativity, and fear.  He told me that this day was not only about the physical component, but more about the emotional one- I would experience extreme highs and lows.  But as he ended our conversation, he mentioned that with everything I've been through lately, "the tenacious girl I saw during those long winter rides is still in you."

Saturday was about refusing to give up- to keep moving forward with courage and faith.  I rediscovered that tenacious girl- the one who overcomes obstacles both on and off the bike- and the overwhelming joy and thrill that comes with having the willingness to risk.  I reconnected once again with the girl who felt supported, loved unconditionally, and comfortable enough to get uncomfortable-

And as I wrapped up a solid 10-hour training day on Saturday, she whispered to me, "Welcome home."

"Sometimes when you think you are done, it is just the edge of beginning.  Probably that's why we decide we're done.  It's getting too scary.  We are touching down onto something real.  It is beyond that point when you think you are done that often something strong comes out." -Natalie Goldberg