Apparently, it’s National Infertility Awareness Week (or it was last week when I wrote this). I know this because of social media. I am totally cool with normalizing fertility issues. The miscarriages I have had are the result of conceiving via medical intervention. Natural conception didn’t work for us. I’ll talk about this stuff openly + honestly all day long, but I can’t help but feel that there is a sector of people who fall under the category of “infertile” who don’t have a voice.
The power of the bike is endless. We’ve all heard and read it before. We’ve seen it in millions of Instagram posts, blog posts and in countless Bicycling Magazine articles. I’ve thought and believed the bicycle to be an incredibly empowering, freeing and people connecting tool since the day my father let go of my seat and I was riding without any assistance; finding balance and momentum working seamlessly to move me forward.
The other night Pamela and I attended a Pearl Jam concert at Fenway Park – a bucket list item for both of us. As tried and true New Englanders and life long Pearl Jam fans, the concept of seeing PJ at Fenway was “pinch me” worthy, served with a healthy dose of anxiety for Pamela. The dose of anxiety was something that was always front of mind when I called in the golden ticket favor to our friend Graham. Continue Reading
You’ve heard the expressions of having several balls in the air, many irons in the fire or perhaps wearing many hats. There are a million ways to explain that feeling when you simply have a lot going on all at once. For me I refer to various areas of my life as buckets and from Sept – April my buckets were overflowing, disorganized, tipped over and downright dysfunctional. I felt like raccoons had gotten into the garbage late at night and left the contents of my life scattered in extremely odd places.
** Disclaimer this was written in July **
This post was supposed to be all about riding bikes in France during the Tour de France this past July as my mother and I celebrated our 40th & 70th birthdays together this fall.
I realized recently that I write a lot about my parents, my brother, my husband, but I don’t write much about my big sister, Kristin. I am surprised by my lack of writing about her as she’s the person I talk to the most in the world, second to Jon. I talk to her several times a week and, quite frankly, I’d be lost without her.
After 11 months on the road, we were finally in punting distance of Boulder which meant two of our good friends could intercept us. With a couple of months of planning, we met up with Kevin and Charlotte in Tucson, Arizona for some riding, hiking, camping and hanging out. We all knew there was good mountain biking in the area, but we were in search of groads, fewer cars and more smiles. With a little plotting and scheming on Ride With GPS, I had mapped out a ride that would tick off all the boxes: Continue Reading
Today marks 365 days on the road living the #VanLife dream. Today marks “Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes” of truly feeling grateful for this journey. Therefore, please indulge me for a moment while I reflect and paraphrase one of the greatest songs from one of the greatest musicals/movements of all time: “Seasons of Love” from “RENT”: