Maybe I’m finally getting settled into life here in Lousyana. Perhaps I shouldn’t call it that any more because its really not that bad. Its not Monterey or Tokyo or Colorado, but it could be worse. I secretly really like my job, even though its incredibly busy and the hours are long. I love the challenge of all the moving pieces involved. I have great people working for me for the most part and I like who I work for, so I certainly can’t complain about that. I have a brand new shiny house in a quiet neighborhood with endless quiet country roads at my disposal to ride, even if they are painfully flat and I have to carry pepper spray to keep the occasional mean dog at bay. And there’s sweet single track only 30 minutes away.

But a few things are missing. I have three things I love more than anything in the world–Terry, racing my bike(s), and photography. I wish I could get paid for living a life that involves just those three things. Right now I feel like I’m living without any of them because the first one remains in California while I’ve been so busy with the new house and new job and new commitments and, in typical Beth fashion, taking on too much stuff to have time for the others. But things are starting to settle down. I’m starting to get an idea of what’s important. And my overly competitive imagination is starting to wander towards training routes and intervals and tempo rides and hill repeats. Maybe I can start training again. And maybe, just maybe, I can start racing again. And maybe I still have a chance to find out how good I can be at something if I focus. And thinking about that makes me excited. Excitement leads to motivation. Motivation leads to getting out there to do it. And being out there doing it makes me happy. I just have to get my priorities in line, because the only one who can impede my excitement and motivation right now is me. As easy as it might be to say no, I don’t like saying no to me.

And if nothing else, Terry is coming to visit me for two weeks in June and then we get to go to Colorado together for a few days and take photos in the mountains. There’s a lot that makes me happy in that statement.

We’ll need to get Sabine to loan us her stinky hockey gear.

Today I convinced a friend to go ride with me. He’s a great riding buddy…goes only as fast as I want to go, always lets me lead the way, doesn’t care what trails I take, doesn’t mind the inevitable bushwacking wrong turn or miscalculation of where a trail ends up (my legs are all scratched up tonight)…he just rides along with me, chitchatting and making sure we aren’t taking ourselves to seriously about school. We rode Ft Ord. It was perfect. The normal sandpits were a little more packed. The downhills were swoopy and speedy. The climbs were comfortable. The skies were bright. I loved it.

Its days like today this that make piling on the jerseys and vests and arm warmers and leg warmers and toe warmers to go out in the damp, bone-chilling coastal winds and foggy soup to suffer up another never-ending climb, snot streaming, hands numb, legs screaming not to do another stupid interval–these days make it all worth it. Because when days likes this week come along, you’ll want to enjoy it.

And now I’m home with Terry and we’re geeking out with our nerdy homework and our iPhones and dreaming about the photography business we’d love to have some day and everything is just fine. A big ol’ smile all over my face. I guess a few days of riding without a care in the world while you’re in the saddle makes everything okay. Besides, how can I possibly take myself so seriously when I wear something like this…

Why isn’t it this easy to write my thesis?

Except I forgot that I live in a rather white, upper-middle class enclave of Lexus-driving upper-middle aged women. Pacgrovians don’t make for very interesting pictures. But I had my camera and the light was starting to get good, so I decided to pedal around PG and see what I could find. Like trees in the golf course that I ride by every single day but never really notice.

We have a lot of benches in PG. Maybe its because we have so many active old people. They need places to sit every once in awhile. I don’t mind though, its nice to watch the waves roll in. Or out. I never really understand what waves are doing.

And the clouds change colors.

And the pelicans fly by.

Then I rolled over to Point Pinos because the sunset looked like it might be nice. Of course I didn’t have my tripod, so I had to improvise. I found yet another trusty park bench, leaned the bike against it and some how got the monster long stem and silly old school shifters to perfectly balance my sort of expensive camera (shhh, don’t tell Terry). I think it worked out.

Luckily I had my light to get home and only one deer ran in front of me. Oh, and I looove my fabulous new Sheila Moon hat.