tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46644038499350585452024-03-13T11:54:25.502-05:00Kristy Kreme AdventuresKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.comBlogger353125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-69373942500437934082022-08-13T08:22:00.001-05:002022-08-13T08:22:49.310-05:00Post Ride Recovery... At the ER<p> Thursday night was supposed to be just a typical night out riding mountain bikes with my husband. Just us, our single speed bikes, and the some beautiful summer weather. But that's not how it all played out.</p><p>We went to Murphy Hanrehan Mtn Bike trail to take on the fun and technical single track for our evening ride. The trail was less dusty thanks to some recent rain and we quickly found out rhythm and flow on our bikes. </p><p>They say bad things come in threes...</p><p>First, the battery on my AXS dropper post died, luckily leaving my saddle in the dropped position so at least I could take any position I wanted on each decent. But, that called for even more standing than my single speed already asked of me, so Jay dropped his saddle for a bit to sympathy-climb with me.</p><p>Next, I made a decision to take a tight turn for an obstacle too late, washing out my front wheel and stopping my momentum by hugging a tree with my shoulder and neck. With my head to one side of the tree and my right arm on the other, I rested roughly against the tender flesh of my neck. I was more disappointed in myself for failing the turn and missing the obstacle than I was for coming to a stop on a tree.</p><p>Back on my bike, I took the next few turns a little easier, but got my confidence back with a few miles left of the trail. We entered the Bird Sanctuary at full gas and I goaled myself to stay on Jay's wheel as tight as possible through the sector. We were flying! </p><p>That is, until something flew into my glasses, lodging itself between the poly lens and the lids of my left eye. It immediately began stinging me as I screamed and clawed at it with my left hand. I tried to stop myself with my right as I removed the violation from my face, but I wasn't stopping fast enough (we were going 15 mph when it happened), so I returned my left hand to the grips and grabbed both brakes with full force. </p><p>I stopped my bike too fast and went over the bars, luckily landing in soft soil and low growing shade plants. I was finally able to rip my glasses from my face and stop the stinging. Jay quickly returned as I gasped what was happening and he checked me over for injuries. I showed him where I was stung and my husband, quite possibly the sweetest man ever made, tried to suck the 'venom' out of my face on the side of the trail. <i>Swoon!</i></p><p>I took a deep breath and a couple seconds to self-asses for injuries, then decided we needed to get back on our bikes. We had about a mile and a half left on our ride and my previous two wasp stings this year were pretty rough on me with days long reactions and lots of pain and swelling. I wanted to just get done.</p><p>We got back on our bikes and returned to about 80% of the pace we were holding, me being a little more hesitant about pushing the limits any further that night. Within a few minutes, thought, things started to change.</p><p>It started with my butt crack. I was riding behind Jay and noticed that my ass was starting to itch. What the??? Then it was my vulva. A few more minutes went by and my arms joined in on the burning itch, followed by my legs. </p><p>I started to realize that this was an allergic reaction. One like I've never known before. I was so glad when we pulled up to the van so I could jump off my bike and give it to Jay to load up as I scratch at my body vigorously. We jumped in the car, headed to drop a wheel off at a friends house, then head home for dinner. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjKJVlv4nTboXumRJVb5KQ-9sWC8kH2geE4NUHJ98oU4vJNC9ooeQ-wBcEkiQARcNDa2yMuslkOVfz8iowAXue--fdMbdIK4j4Kn6da2v2RWAco8x0HNWIXJu-sAKYd2nSym0ga_kviw11JoeUxRxmdBHO9yz-R-CTg4fEwrJWosKpBvqlkUSx3TEwO" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjKJVlv4nTboXumRJVb5KQ-9sWC8kH2geE4NUHJ98oU4vJNC9ooeQ-wBcEkiQARcNDa2yMuslkOVfz8iowAXue--fdMbdIK4j4Kn6da2v2RWAco8x0HNWIXJu-sAKYd2nSym0ga_kviw11JoeUxRxmdBHO9yz-R-CTg4fEwrJWosKpBvqlkUSx3TEwO" width="320" /></a></div><br />The itch grew worse and I clawed at my hair as if I had lice. My ears felt thick and joined in the tingling battle raging on the surface of my body. I started to cough as I looked in the mirror at my swelling eye. Each minute, a new symptom, so I begged Jay to stop at a pharmacy so I could grab and ice pack and some Benadryl. <p></p><p>I walked through the store, grabbing supplies in a panic as my eyes and nose began to run and my breathing became laborious. I must have been quite a sight! Soiled knees, bloody knuckles from my crash, swollen face, runny nose and wheezing... oi! I checked out and jumped back in the car, tearing open the Benadryl like an animal and took them as quickly as I could as Jay drove us to Shad's to drop off a wheel.</p><p>"My skin is on fire", I gasped out to Jay in the car. But I tried to be tough and scratch away in silence from there. Until we got to Shad's driveway. I looked down at the arms I had been mindlessly clawing at to see bubbles forming across them. I zoomed my vision out, and saw the same oddities spread across my legs. I interrupted Jay as he exited the car and held out my arms to him, "Jay, we need to go to a doctor."</p><p>We took off right away after a brief apology and got to the Urgent Care in Edina within minutes as Jay pushed the pedal to the metal and ran any light that we approached alone. They were so backed up, they had turned off the lobby lights so they looked closed. Which was good.. because that forced us to go to the hospital next door.</p><p>The lobby of the hospital was also packed, a few hour wait lie ahead, so I calmly tried to take as deep of breaths as I could as I waited in line. When it was my turn with the intake nurse, I shared how I'd been stung and was breaking out in hives. The nurse who stood behind her interrupted and asked me "are you having trouble breathing?". "Yes," I gasped in response, taking another forced breath immediately after. "I think I'm okay, but my chest is tight".</p><p>They rushed me in right away and got me onto the hospital bed. In a flurry, a nurse was assigned to each arm as a kind doctor reassured me on what was happening. "You are in anaphylactic shock. We're going to give you a shot of epinephrine and [some meds] to help stop the reaction." The nurse on my left inserted a line as the one on the right stuck with with a shot of epi which I could have sworn was administered with a straw the needle felt so big!</p><p>Jay helped answer some questions from one of the nurses as I balanced on the edge of shock, but the swift attentiveness of my medical team put me at ease. As the fear faded from my body, the jitters of the epinephrine flooded in, the muscles in my arms and legs twitching uncontrollably as I shivered.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnYXDrtTFquozyCK9Do0TLN0GpjpCEsZOYi4vUkcLXFps4wL_bjqaSQZpXCbfMDYejpWMgir1pKvrzpZmyOZUtcEgfpg6mHORdXhzbSbvq0FjZJ99_Q4knlSLQrJYedGqdC5gLIkPAB4nB8xSXWiZBH9IIa7FPglFxBBDDW-k9JUlACCJ8R_lImlXW" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnYXDrtTFquozyCK9Do0TLN0GpjpCEsZOYi4vUkcLXFps4wL_bjqaSQZpXCbfMDYejpWMgir1pKvrzpZmyOZUtcEgfpg6mHORdXhzbSbvq0FjZJ99_Q4knlSLQrJYedGqdC5gLIkPAB4nB8xSXWiZBH9IIa7FPglFxBBDDW-k9JUlACCJ8R_lImlXW" width="320" /></a></div><br />After a few minutes, my breathing became easier and my hives began to fade. They kept me there for a couple hours of observation to make sure I didn't have a poor response to the rapid cocktail I'd been given. The doctor returned to check on me, calm and nurturing a sincere part of her being. She made eye contact with me and said, "I'm going to call in a prescription for an Epi pen for you. Actually, two." She said the next time could be worse, that these reactions build rather than one becoming tolerant. I nodded my understanding and tried to let it sink in.<p></p><p>After a long, dramatic night, Jay and I returned home at midnight and ate some food as we tried to come down so we could sleep. The mix of downers and epinephrine didn't disturb me too much, and I drifted off quickly but slept fitfully through the night.</p><p>The next morning, I walked out to the kitchen and stopped at the kitchen table taking in the site of my new prescriptions laid out for me. Steroids, Benadryl, and a pair of Epi pens (+ a trainer pen). It was a weird new reality to wake up to... "You need to carry the Epi pen with you at all times," I replayed the doctors words in my head as I turned the pen over in my hands.</p><p>Two days later, I still am in shock. It still hasn't sunk in. I don't even take my phone with me everywhere, but now life-saving medicine? I've been very fortunate to be a pretty healthy person. But this one landed different on my heart. It'll hit me. I'll be fine. I'm just not there yet.</p><p>Most of all, I am just grateful for my amazingly caring, understanding, and law-bending husband who took me at my word and got me to medical help. I am so grateful for the nurse that saw me gasping for air and rushed me in, and the amazing medical team who took care of me with such grace, my fear was left at the door. And last, I'm so grateful for my medical insurance, which made my new Epi-sidekick an easily affordable purchase.</p><p>Hug your people and trust your instincts. They are the things that help keep you alive. </p><p>Swollen but healing, <br />Kristy Kreme</p>Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-6049490477225791942020-11-24T19:53:00.003-06:002020-11-24T19:53:34.988-06:00The Best Dreams Happen When We're Awake<div class="separator"><div style="text-align: left;"> For as far back into my childhood as I can remember, the only consistent thing I wanted to be when I grew up was Happy. I've seen grade school projects that said Fire Fighter or Ballerina, but there was no actual substance behind it. As I grew, I realized my aversion to blood was a good reason to avoid a medical career. Although I wanted to follow in my Dad's creative footprints by working some type of construction, he wanted for me to grow up with a body not ravaged with aches and pains. And later, when I fell in love with writing, I found that there was likely no way to make a living writing poetry... hell, all the good poets were dead.</div></div><p>I loved math (especially algebra), being creative, and could never really narrow my focus in on one profession. So, I went to college... make that 3 colleges... changed my major a dozen times and finally graduated with a Bachelor's of Science in Kinesiology after some 5+ years of study. I wanted to be a collegiate strength coach... but it turned out I had more fun creating and editing lifting plans in a MS Excel workbook than I did on actually bossing the athletes around. So I changed directions again.</p><p>Over the next 10 years, I worked as an administrative assistant, an office manager, worked in sales support, hospitality, sales, account management, retail... but the one consistent pattern I found time and time again was this innate satisfaction with improving procedures, modifying SOP's, and creating shortcuts to reduce workload. I taught myself to create mail merges and inventory tracking; when a job required me to request every report or data summary I needed from another team, I asked them to teach me to pull my own raw data to save them the time; when teammates complained about the time it took them to complete weekly analysis, I learned how to write macros to cut their time by 75%. (I am a nerd, and I love it!)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Spreadsheet Memes" height="329" src="https://www.memesmonkey.com/images/memesmonkey/ff/fffad79dfabdf5912c8d4f0c3bfe762f.jpeg" width="438" /></p></div><p>It was sometime in 2015 that I remember telling a coworker that I wish there was a job where I could just problem solve in data and create tools for a living. But, what would I call that? How would I quantify it in a job search? In January 2018, I landed myself a role as an Inventory Analyst for Target headquarters after hearing amazing things about what a great employer they were and hoped maybe I'd find my forever home there. It only took a couple months until I found it... there was a team who's full time job was to create tools to reduce workload, improve data accuracy, supply analytical reporting... and they got paid to do it!</p><p>For almost three years, I have held that dream of someday being on that team close to my heart and confidently on my lips to anyone who'd listen. I created tools and analysis for myself and others, I started my own club of Excel nerds just like me to help develop new processes and tools to help our entire pyramid. Every morning in my Start Today journal, I've declared that 10 years from now I would be on that team. Every. Damn. Morning.</p><p>Then, in August of this year, 5 months into the pandemic, a job opening was posted and I applied within hours. Five gruelingly painful weeks went by without a word on if I was a candidate until finally a representative from HR contacted me to schedule my interviews. After my three interviews, another 2+ weeks went by without a word until I finally saw a message come across my screen one morning from the hiring manager, "Hi. Are you free to talk?". The second I hit send on "Yes", the Zoom call came in and my heart raced. Barely breathing, I heard him thanking me for my patience, for participating in the interviews and all I thought was "fuck, I didn't get it".</p><p>That is, until he changed his tone and said "we'd like to offer you the job" and smiled. I distinctively remember (and immediately regretted) responding with "Shut up! Are you serious?" <i>*Not one of my finer moments, but also very authentically me none the less* </i>Luckily, he laughed and doubled down on his conviction and I said "Yes!" with almost as much enthusiasm as I did when Jay proposed. The rest of the call was a blur but there it was... my dream job, wrapped up in a bow, and presented virtually on a silver platter. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NWGGPofOZ2U/X724lC6m3oI/AAAAAAAADBY/q_Pek3gWTWE9jJaefFqUj9io0_lFDI63QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/brave%2Benough.jpeg" width="320" /></div><p>Yesterday marked the beginning of Week 3 in my new role... a beginner, learning to code and to take my problem solving and analytics to a level I never imagined. Each day is new and filled with things I don't understand yet which allows fear to creep into my home office but I fight it every day by focusing on the present moment. I focus on the jobs I was turned down for that would have directed me away from here. I remind myself to believe in myself because my whole team already believes in me just the way I am.</p><p>What a year...40 years old and finally landing the dream job I always wanted but never knew it existed until recently. Starting fresh, stepping into the unknown, and feeling ever so grateful for the wonderful opportunity to work in something I am so passionate about. It may not be a popular opinion, but it's another spectacular gift of 2020.</p><p>Dreaming in Code, </p><p>Kristy Kreme</p>Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-70586351740708461502020-10-03T13:11:00.001-05:002020-10-03T13:11:59.697-05:00So I cleansed my liver for this?<p> Over the last 7 months, I've accumulated a stack of post-it notes with blog content ideas that did nothing but collect dust. Like you, I've struggled at times to make sense of my thoughts, my emotions, my fucked up dreams let alone figure out what day it is. I change my clothes 3-4 times a day as I work from home.. day time jammies, mid-day workout attire, something I call "this could almost pass as street clothes" outfit before Jay comes home, and then straight back to my nighttime jammies after dinner. </p><p>However, as October has snuck back into our lives, so has my social feed filled with #SoberOctober posts that has really had me reflecting on the last year of my life and my choices.</p><p>Last fall, I set out to participate in #SoberOctober for the first time. For the most part, I was testing my hypothesis that alcohol was contributing to a growing depression within me. I made it some 20+ days, throwing in the towel at our annual Homey Fall Fun Fest towards the end of the month. Navigating the day, riding our single speed mountain bikes in costume on urban trails around town was somehow too clear w/ NA beer so I talked my husband into picking me up a six pack of beer on this way to meet us after his race. I struggled with the attention 'not drinking' brought me and I just wanted to let loose like everyone else. I stayed off the wagon for the rest of October and through November, but the experience on the ground was so much different than before.</p><p>The sparkle and luster of drinking had faded. That soft vignette of drinking wine by candlelight exposed itself as a dingy dark space filled with loneliness. I had seen the other side... the clear headed mornings, the anxious energy subsiding, the depression fading... it all made the once celebratory drinking now dull and sad. I wanted to take back the light in my life. </p><p>I chose sobriety on December 1st, 2019.</p><p>I made it through the holidays, through the loss of my mother in law, through flying and vacation, remodeling and selling our condo after 13+ years, buying a home; living amidst the social injustice, riots and looting in Minneapolis; turning 40 and, somehow, though the pandemic and physical isolation that comes with it. Sure, I would give anything to just go numb on some days but, where the general consensus indicates alcohol use and abuse it up almost unanimously, I imagine each day is adding to my super power. For every shitty week I've had, the fear of what's to come, every bottle of anti-bacterial solution I empty out into my palms, and every milestone that quietly passes... for every one I collect the day's strength (even if while found on my knees and with tears in my eyes), and I add it to my armor and head off to bed. </p><p>Last weekend, my sober calendar hit 300 days. I only told two people that it was here but I wore that badge on my heart like a beacon of light. Counting the days gives me a sense of pride I celebrate silently within myself and, if I am honest, at times use as a reason to reward myself with something new I wouldn't have done for myself before. <i>Helloooo, online shopping!</i></p><p>But it's also an odd reminder that, for the first time in my life, I am struggling with my identity. Am I sober or alcohol-free? Am I 'in recovery' even if I don't attend meetings and never wound up in rehab? All I know is that I am happy and I can see parts of myself in each description and each book on sobriety I read. I fill my ears with podcasts and my time with adventures big and small...</p><p>I ride. I sew masks. We bought our first house.. so I decorate and tidy and vacuum and move things. I read. I bake and I bake and I bake. I eat raw cookie dough. I ride some more. Digital coupon-cutting on the Target Circle app is a competitive sport for me! I paint rooms and hallways. I do HIIT workouts. I have mastered a caulking gun. I fixed the toilet. I coach. I am growing plants and tell them how loved they are. I ride some more. I jump my bike off things (little things, but I am getting air!). I volunteer with the trail crew. I smell the flowers. I cook. But most importantly, I smile more. </p><p>Day One of Sober October 2019...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xASdSOq0C7c/X3i2tn-urDI/AAAAAAAADA0/e6gkcBrbb4YizV964LGHb5zcRcHaRxs-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_0675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1539" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xASdSOq0C7c/X3i2tn-urDI/AAAAAAAADA0/e6gkcBrbb4YizV964LGHb5zcRcHaRxs-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0675.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>306 Days Sober... <3<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tgshpRPVEOM/X3i2tiww0xI/AAAAAAAADA4/r0NDPECF1x4HceT_lFITfQGpbG9phPI4QCLcBGAsYHQ/s3088/IMG_3374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tgshpRPVEOM/X3i2tiww0xI/AAAAAAAADA4/r0NDPECF1x4HceT_lFITfQGpbG9phPI4QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_3374.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p>If you've been wondering if alcohol is having a negative impact on your life, if the constant unknown of the pandemic or the pending election has you overindulging, I recommend giving #SoberOctober a try. What was intended to be a 'just for now' choice really truly made me find a new door into a better life for me. If you have no sober network, I am here for you. If you DO have a sober network, I am here for you! Because the sober people in my life helped me and I am there for those of you who need it. </p><p>Now, I only hope I've enforced my armor enough to make it through the next 30+ days and the election...but that's a fear for another day.</p><p>Feeling strong in my sobriety, </p><p>Kristy Kreme</p><p><br /></p></div>Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-74345402080121216242020-03-21T10:54:00.000-05:002020-03-21T10:54:00.253-05:00Social Distancing: How Sobriety prepared me for this<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I first got sober in 2003, Social Distancing had an entirely different meaning. I was a 23 year old trying to find herself in a world she didn't understand, in skin she didn't love, trying to find a voice that wasn't just a whisper. When I got sober, I cut everyone out... my friends, my bookclub, my coworkers at happy hour. I didn't know how to continue my life the way it was without booze, so I just stopped doing everything. It was miserable. Each night at home was painstakingly long and agonizing, each weekend dull. That was then...<br />
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But not this time.<br />
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Day One of the "work from home" mandate from work due to the Coronavirus Pandemic was also Day 108 of my new life without alcohol. Although this first week of what people are softly calling a 'new normal' was awkward and confusing, it was welcomed with an open mind thanks to so much that I have already learned in my sobriety.<br />
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Some lessons are light and silly, like how I all of a sudden LOVE to wash the dishes and tidy up my kitchen. ??? What the....? Not sure why, but I do dishes almost every day and it brings me joy! <br />
Reorganizing our condo feels like I'm nesting all over again.<br />
Buying my first placemats for our new kitchen island was amazing and makes me smile!<br />
Filling a candy jar of chocolates when it gets low feels like a mini expression of love.<br />
Chatting with friends has held so much more meaning because I remember it all.<br />
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But the three most impactful lessons that fill my soul are these:<br />
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<b>1. Quitting drinking saved me from killing myself</b><br />
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I quit drinking after years of battling depression, anxiety, and a painfully diminished self-worth. I was ashamed at myself for drinking two bottles of wine on the couch on a work night, only to hate the shit out of myself the next day until the time it meant I could return to the liquor store for more. Had I walked into this uncertain time of a global pandemic, economic distress, social distancing, and spending more time alone than I think I ever have, I think I could have easily drank myself to death or at least to a much darker place. I can only imagine how much Social Distancing would have compounded my anxiety and depression that was fueled by alcohol and by pairing that with less contact with people forcing me to buck up and be normal... I truly would have found the bottom everyone expects Sober people to have hit. <br />
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<b>2. Self-care is extremely important</b><br />
I have filled my hands with the inspiring words of Annie Grace, Holly Whitaker, Sarah Hepola, and Laura McKowen as I have waded through these early days of sobriety. One majorly recurring theme has been Self-care and going easy on yourself as you grow and develop as a sober person. It was the first lesson I anchored too and the one I held tightest to my heart. Exercise, sleeping in, painting my nails, taking a nap, reading, journalling, cooking, not cooking, staying home, getting out.... I've paid close attention to what my heart has said it has needed and followed it's recommendations closely. It has brought me to a better place of really knowing myself and what I need in a given moment, whether it be stress at work, tension at home, the anxiety of the unknown.<br />
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It is something we ALL need at this time. We need the focus to actually listen to ourselves and this social distancing gives us the space and time to take action on it. All you have to do is make the choice to do what you need for yourself. Bust out the nice glasses with dinner, use the good napkins, eat dessert, stretch your aching muscles, draw/sew/paint/create, pick up an old hobby again... just do something that is JUST FOR YOU! And next time your mind or your heart asks you to do something for yourself again.... DO IT! Find time every day to make yourself a priority because if you don't, you'll run yourself empty and it'll be impossible to keep caring for everyone else.<br />
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<b>3. The Joy of Silence</b><br />
When I was drinking, almost every hour of every day was filled with the constant barrage of self-hate and disappointment echoing within the confines of my mind. It was loud and disgusting, it was so violent I could feel it in my bones. And when I wasn't admonishing myself, I was planning out my next drink... Which liquor store should I go to next so they don't think I have a problem? What flavor should I buy? Can I start drinking now? How much did I drink last night? Did we have a fight? What happened last night?<br />
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Within 48 hours of quitting, the screaming ended. Just. Like. That. And where the shouting had been was filled with nothing but pure, undeniable Silence. And peace. There was absolutely nothing but the quiet breathing of Jay and Rosco when I woke in the morning for work, the sound of my foot pads walking through the condo in the dark, my slow breaths as I laid down at night. Not a whisper, not a single thing remained and it was so weird at first. For the first week I was doubtful, like I was waiting for my abuser to return but it didn't... because I didn't pick up another drink.<br />
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This quickly has become the best part of sobriety: Silence. Time alone is no longer filled with anxiety and disappointment. It has been replaced with the space to allow my mind to wonder, daydream, and explore. With the new addition of working from home and nearly eliminating my social life outside of the home, it prepared me for this time with myself. I've had now 112 days to practice being in peaceful silence with myself and find ways to simply enjoy the time, explore something new like learning coding, trying new workouts, and reorganizing my home.<br />
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Even if you are not sober, I hope you can find ways to fill your new time away from friends and family to take care of yourself and find that inner peace. Hopefully we all can so that we can come out of this with a new perspective on how to care for ourselves and of what truly is important and valued in life. <br />
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May you find a way to make the most of every day. Me, I'll be working on making my past self jealous!<br />
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Wishing you peace and good health,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-85634468493707826802020-02-14T11:53:00.001-06:002020-02-14T22:32:09.238-06:00Hurts, Don't it? I'm still in disbelief how quickly planning a trip to see Jay's Mom turned into planning a funeral. In a matter of days, it went from 'let's celebrate Valentine's early by getting a nice hotel room and visiting your mom' to 'the Hospice staff says your mom isn't expected to make it through the weekend'. We got a sitter for Rosco, packed up the car, and headed South at 5:00am to meet his brother John in their hometown and head straight to Dot's side.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu3JOcEbJNA/XkbdwqPMu5I/AAAAAAAAC-c/DcsqOdgtzYQb-QkdHSsu1S322AIiBy_sACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_1885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1086" data-original-width="1440" height="241" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu3JOcEbJNA/XkbdwqPMu5I/AAAAAAAAC-c/DcsqOdgtzYQb-QkdHSsu1S322AIiBy_sACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_1885.JPG" width="320" /></a>We met John at Hurts Donut to pull ourselves out of a travel-fog with coffee and glazed, sprinkled goodness. Our hugs were amplified and laughter light until the gravity of the day ahead weighed in. It wasn't until the end of the weekend that the real truth to the name settled on my heart... Hurts, Donut?<br />
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Seeing Dot was a shock to the system and my heart broke instantly. Sitting at her bedside, I sat willing her eyes to open and to hear her voice if not for my sake, but for the boys'. As the pain rolled in like waves, I was also washed with the gratitude of making it on time to be by her side, knowing there was no where else in the world we needed to be other than right here in this moment. We stayed throughout the day, leaving only to grab dinner and return so Jay could stay with her through the night. John and I returned to our hotel rooms for some much needed sleep but the phone rang at 1:15, pulling me from slumber with the sound of Jay crying on the other end of the phone, telling me she had passed on. <br />
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I woke John and we returned to Dot's room to say our final goodbyes and comfort Jay in the dark room. It was all quiet and still... it was grief and sadness, slow moving time that seemed as if the seconds barely ticked by at all as we waited for someone from Hospice to arrive. Waves of sadness crashed against us while moments of fond memories hit us in the face like mist against the rocks. <br />
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It was somewhere in the silence of the morning that gratitude overcame me again.. this time for my own sobriety. It was in these moments I was so grateful to be sober, that my 'need to drink' didn't come before Jay and John's pain, their grief, or take away their focus on Dot. It allowed me to be pulled from sleep in the middle of the night and be there for my husband, to be 100% present in the here and now. <br />
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In the first couple weeks of sobriety I had wondered how I would deal with loss, feared that it would be an instant path back to a bottle of wine, but it didn't. It was<a href="https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-invitation-by-oriah-mountain-dreamer" target="_blank"> like a passage out of the poem "The Invitation</a>" by Oriah Mountain Dreamer:<br />
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<i><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I want to know</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Nunito, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">if you can sit with pain</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Nunito, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">mine or your own</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Nunito, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">without moving to hide it</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Nunito, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">or fade it</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Nunito, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "nunito" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">or fix it.</span></i><br />
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So I sat with my pain and thought of Dot...<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awrHHNoignA/XkbdwUCByYI/AAAAAAAAC-Y/OFUODe-Pm7I0sqO3Bu7iD0aFNPIOsal9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_1886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-awrHHNoignA/XkbdwUCByYI/AAAAAAAAC-Y/OFUODe-Pm7I0sqO3Bu7iD0aFNPIOsal9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_1886.JPG" width="320" /></a>She welcomed me the first time I met her. I never felt <span style="text-align: center;">like I needed a filter with her, but learned quickly how to think fast and respond openly when her Catholic and my Agnostic worlds didn't align. I will forever giggle about when she dug out her 1980's 'etiquette' book when Jay and I were planning our wedding, filled with outdated societal norms my feminist self couldn't stomach. </span><br />
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She taught me the joy of shopping at Von Maur. Dot reminded me of the simple pleasure of a tasty, hardshell taco. She raised an amazing man that I love and cherish, who cherishes and respects me. <br />
And I hold dearly to the sound of her saying "I love you" as we parted during our last visit. It's warming to think that Dot and Bob are reunited for Valentine's this year.<br />
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Grateful I got to say "I love you" one last time..<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-77743669326870622412019-12-30T17:26:00.000-06:002019-12-30T17:26:25.813-06:0030 Days and Counting...This isn't the full story. Not yet. However, each time I have posted about this Sober journey, I have had a new friend reach out to me in confidence to share they've been considering the same path of an alcohol-free life. So this one's for you... those who've reached out and to those that may be asking themselves the same questions that were bouncing around in my mind for so long.<br />
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Today marks 30 days with no alcohol and I honest to goodness, no joke, not joshing ya in any way, am the happiest, lightest, joy filled person that I can ever remember being. During the first week of December, I told people my goal was to go 30 days and figure it out from there, but the response never truly felt authentic. Deep down inside I knew the decision in my heart was final... I am going the distance and never want to go back. Why? Here are the highlights from the first 30 days on everything I've already gained and lost along the way.....<br />
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Hmmm, where should we start? Gains? Or do we kick out the bad?<br />
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Here's what I have LOST in the last 30 days living alcohol free (some of which I previously had no idea was even related to my drinking life):<br />
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<ul>
<li>Crippling self-loathing and depression</li>
<li>Anxiety</li>
<li>Indigestion and heartburn</li>
<li>Night sweats</li>
<li>13 POUNDS & 4 inches around my waist</li>
<li>Acne and redness of my face</li>
<li>Heart palpitations</li>
<li>Cravings</li>
<li>Fatigue</li>
<li>Laziness / avoiding to-do's</li>
<li>Regret and inner battles</li>
<li>Hangovers and headaches</li>
<li>Not remembering the night before</li>
<li>Feeling like a disappointment</li>
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And, if it's even possible for things to get BETTER than that list of shit being kicked out the door.... this is the list of all the things sobriety has given me in the last 30 days:</div>
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<li>Childlike joy</li>
<li>Giggles (last night Jay & I giggled over 'back-scratchers for 5 min. before falling asleep)</li>
<li>A quiet mind</li>
<li>Deeper connection with my husband</li>
<li>Energy</li>
<li>Confidence</li>
<li>More $$ in my bank account for BIKES! (seriously, 5 weeks w/o wine = new dropper post, people!)</li>
<li>Better sex</li>
<li>Making memories</li>
<li>Being 100% present at holiday gatherings, with family and friends</li>
<li>Improved sense of smell and taste</li>
<li>More time in the day</li>
<li>ALL THE FEELINGS</li>
<li>Clean house</li>
<li>Cheaper tab at dinner</li>
<li>To-do lists DONE </li>
<li>Books read, journal pages filled, blogs written, laundry folded, dishes washed, true connections, easier decision making, being a happy sober cab, running doesn't actually suck all that bad....</li>
<li>Feeling lighter... free</li>
<li>Smiling so friggin' big and real </li>
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I mean seriously look at this girl!.....</div>
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Looking over these lists, it reaffirms what joy fills my heart and there's no doubt that this is the lifestyle for me to reach my truest potential. I'm on fire! And, surprisingly, it was easy. Albeit, this wasn't the first attempt but my goal is for it to be my last. </div>
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I want to give an amazingly heart-felt virtual hug and high-five to Jay who has been here for every struggle, effort and stumble... I would not have made it here without your undying support and unconditional love. To my family who have given me support, both open and silently in the background, you are so important to me. To my friends who have loved and supported me, I'll still need ya every step of the way.. and to the universe for flooding my vision with podcast links, blogs, books (thank you, Annie Grace!) and Insta-posts... it has all come together at exactly the right time! </div>
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Curious for yourself? DM me, pull me aside at a race or party, call/text me... I'm here for ya! Below are some of the most awesome tools/links I've found most useful in these last 30 days in case they can help even just one person who may need them. </div>
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"<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">There's nothing as unstoppable as a freight </span>train full of<span style="background-color: white;"> fuck-yeah" - <i>Jen Sincero</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Headin' into 2020 light a freight train...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Kristy Kreme</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Books:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"<a href="https://thisnakedmind.com/this-naked-mind-book/" target="_blank">This Naked Mind</a>" </span>book and Podcast <span style="font-family: inherit;">- Annie Grace</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">- also has a <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=12&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjVg7zewd7mAhXIQc0KHURABBUQFjALegQIAxAB&url=https%3A%2F%2Fthisnakedmind.com%2Fan-alcohol-experiment%2F&usg=AOvVaw1PJGlIjYr_eEgcVErg5d_t" target="_blank">30-day Alcohol-Free Experiment</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Podcasts:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"This Naked Mind"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Recovery Happy Hour"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Sober Girl Society"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Seltzer Squad"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Recovery Elevator"</span></span></div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-23675606606396820072019-12-21T11:10:00.000-06:002019-12-21T11:24:56.336-06:00Winter Solstice and the Chalice of Change<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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According to <a href="https://foreverconscious.com/summer-and-winter-solstice-rituals" target="_blank">Forever Conscious</a>, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #3a3a3a;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Winter Solstice celebrates the longest hours of darkness or the rebirth of the Sun and is believed to hold a powerful energy for regeneration, renewal, and self-reflection." Today also marks 21 days sober.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://www.almanac.com/sites/default/files/image_nodes/winter-solstice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for winter solstice free images" border="0" height="240" src="https://www.almanac.com/sites/default/files/image_nodes/winter-solstice.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #3a3a3a; font-family: inherit;">To back up a bit.. I joined some friends in participating in "Sober October" recently and made it maybe a total of 20 days before falling back into my regularly scheduled </span><span style="color: #3a3a3a;">drinking</span><span style="color: #3a3a3a;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> program. Quickly, I returned to my unhealthy love affair with wine and beer, slowly watching the positive affects of </span>October<span style="font-family: inherit;"> melt away as the routine settled back in.... that's a suitcase to </span>unpack<span style="font-family: inherit;"> on another day. But </span></span></span><span style="color: #3a3a3a;">something changed Thanksgiving weekend and I woke up on December 1st with no desire to drink alcohol. It happened again on December 2nd and again on the 3rd, so I kept listening.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">This morning, I woke with no hangover and have enjoyed my fresh-brewed coffee as I snuggle on the couch with my <a href="https://thehollisco.com/pages/start-today" target="_blank">Start Today</a> gratitude & goals journal and new read, "<a href="https://thisnakedmind.com/this-naked-mind-book/" target="_blank">This Naked Mind</a>" by Annie Grace. In the silence, I am sitting here bathing in the gratitude of enjoying another booze-filled holiday party with no desire to drink alcohol, for the physical changes in my mind and body, and mostly the most fulfilling joy and energy this new chapter of my life has been bringing me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">Don't get me wrong... the last 21 days were not my darkest. On the contrary, they have been filled with peace & light and the utter confidence that I have chosen the right path. I have had many of those dark days this year. Ones where I felt down for the count and wasn't sure if I was even going to <i>try</i> to get back up again. Nights where the every tear felt as though pieces of my soul were dying under the weight of my pain. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">Today, however, the word jumping off the pages and slapping me across the face as I look internally is CONFIDENCE. As far back as I can remember, I used alcohol as a way to "fit in" with the crowd. Even when I was sober for 3 1/2 yrs in my early 20's, I would occasionally show up to a house party with a 6-pack of O'Douls and tear the labels off. The sad reality that I see now is that it never gave me the confidence I sought, only a false sense of belonging.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">But in the last 21 days, I have felt confidence pulse through me in warm, forceful ways. I have walked out of meetings feeling like a #BOSS lately, enjoyed sincere conversations with friends at parties and remembered every minute of it, I have felt like a caring partner to my husband and a patient parent to my fur baby. Comparing that to the last few years of my life filled with self-loathing where I spent each morning obsessing over what a loser I was, a disappointment, that I didn't belong and that everyone would someday leave me...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">The contrast is staggering.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">So, I will rinse out my chalice, wipe off the red-wine-stained rim, top it off with some chilled Fresca and step into this day with my own personal mic drop. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">Hoisting the Chalice of Fresca up high, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a;">Kristy Kreme</span></div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-37335541964414962182019-12-01T18:11:00.000-06:002019-12-15T19:37:29.038-06:00SSUSA 2019 Ch 4 - Rocky Hill Ranch, Race Day and DerbiesSaturday morning came early and the first hangover since Sober October was a gross reminder of how hangovers and race mornings don't mix...<br />
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or do they?<br />
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We loaded up the van and headed to <a href="https://www.rockyhillranch.com/" target="_blank">Rocky Hill Ranch</a>, a private mountain bike venue where our singlespeed buddies were all gathering to play bikes for the day. We had checked out most of the trails the day prior and were excited for the race ahead of us. Kitted up in our full THC* regalia, Coach, Hwood and I prepped the bikes and gathered with our friends in anticipation of the start.<br />
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Chewy lined us all up with the "In it to Win it" crew on the line, and the partiers filled in behind us. Jay had an instinct that they were gonna pull a reversal on us so he grabbed me and Jay Drasher (our bud from PA and 2018 Men's SSUSA champ) and we headed to the back of the pack. Just as they were about to start the race, Chewy had everyone turn their bikes around just as Hwood expected and told us to wait for the dinner bell to start. </div>
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As they clanged away on the metal triangle, everyone stayed put with the exception of a handful of us that paid attention. There I was, sittin' in 5th place behind Hwood, Jay D., and two other guys off the start! I looked over my shoulder as we entered the single track and found that we were GONE! The see of single speeders in various costumes and get-ups were a significant ways back amidst the dust and we were haulin'. The nervous anxiety hummed in my legs as I tried to gather my wits and hold onto the wheel in front of me. The twisty first mile or so gave us a glimpse on the single-file river of riders behind us and I knew we maintained the gap but not enough to settle in yet.</div>
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I had the perfect gear for the course and the knee pain from the crash earlier in the week was non-existant either by chance or by adrenaline... but I took it either way. At the first beer stop, I still led the women and maintained a top 10 position. The hangover had not ebbed and the smell of beer was nauseating, so I topped off my bottle with water and headed back onto the course. When I got to the next checkpoint, I still didn't feel better but now a voice bellowed from the back of my mind.... "What if you just kept going as fast as you can?... What if you won?".... so I kept going, kept attacking myself in the woods, kept pedaling turn after flowy turn.</div>
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Mother Nature had her fun with us, dropping a thick blanket of pine needles so densely over the trail that it disappeared at times. You couldn't turn off your mind and rely on Jedi forces to get you through the farthest depths of the trail because it would disappear before you knew it, forcing me to put a foot down and look around, searching for some sign of where to pick it back up. The fear crept into me and the sound of my wheels crushing the needles tricked me into hearing things that weren't there. So, I kept pedaling.</div>
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As I took my last turn out of the single track and back onto the dirt road to the finish, I looked over my shoulder once more in disbelief. I charged the finished and threw up my arms in excitement as I finished in 1st for the women in the race, and top 10 overall. I've tried so hard to win the race every year and finally pulled it off! It was the most amazing finish not only of the race, but to my best mountain bike season ever... and my day was made. Jay was there at the finish to celebrate with me and the tension ebbed from all the weeks leading up to that day. Now it was time to relax... but not until after being awarded one badass Armadillo as a trophy for winning the race! </div>
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The partying commenced, filled with all the single speed antics one would expect... beer, bikes, hosting competitions, and derbies. Jay Drasher and I took one last photo as the 2018 Champs with our champion's belts before the final derbies began. </div>
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Crazy thing was, this year I was not worried about winning it.. I had already accomplished a huge goal that day and was bathing in the glory of my new buddy, Arnie the Armadillo. When I put my foot down in the women's derby, I was smiling as I excited and watched as the final women fought for the belt.<br />
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For the after party, we headed back into Smithville to watch the teams battle for next year's hosting rights. Hwood joined Chewy and Spinner for the play-by-play on the <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/burning-bike-podcast-singlespeed-usa-report-from-austin/id879831971?i=1000458111526" target="_blank">Burning Bike Podcast</a> as the riffraff dropped quarters out of their butt cheeks into pint glasses on the ground... "Texas Butt Darts"... it was a friggin' laugh-riot! (listen starting at 36:00ish minutes into the podcast to enjoy the hilarity of it all).<br />
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Following that in the podcast, I was interviewed along with 2012 women's SSUSA Champ, Kerry W., as we bonded over single speeding and partying' on bikes after burying some hatchets out in the lawn and finally getting to know each other after 6 years of spinning in the same circles. Needless to say, it was long past due.<br />
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The locals were a ton of fun and the band of misfits drank beer well into the night. As the crowd thinned and the temps dropped we headed back to our Air BnB to wind down and welcome the next chapter of our trip.</div>
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For months, part of me worried about how this day was going to go... we had done so much to prepare and plan for this road trip and race and so much could have gone wrong. Luckily, it turned out to be one hell of a party on bikes and I couldn't have been more elated with the outcome. We got to ride a lot of awesome new trails we would probably never ridden otherwise and we connected with our favorite single speeders from around the country. It was exactly what I'd hoped it would be!</div>
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Rollin' with my homies!</div>
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Kristy Kreme</div>
Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-3632807017189171872019-11-07T17:26:00.000-06:002019-11-07T17:34:35.215-06:00SSUSA 2019 Ch. 3 - Old Friends & the Treehouse of HorrorSince 2013, we have been to every SSUSA (Single Speed USA) except for one. What began as "let's go to our friends' race cuz we LOVE single speed mountain biking" turned into me being the 2013 women's Champion, making a bunch of awesome new friends, and created a new annual vacation for us to plan around. In the last few years, we've planned days preceding and following the race into our vacation to give ourselves extra fun and more time together exploring new cities!<br />
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With the 2019 race being in Smithville, TX, just 45 minutes away from Austin .. a city we've heard tons about and had never been to, we added in some additional time to see the city and catch up with old friends. What better day to play in Austin and figure out the joy behind the credo of "Keep Austin Weird" than taking it in on Halloween of all days?!<br />
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The four of us woke to the sunlight filtering into the barn windows and birds singing in the trees in the yard. Jay and Coach loaded the bikes into our van and we headed out to Austin early to take in as much as we could. I pulled up the <a href="https://fat-bike.com/2019/10/the-burning-bike-podcast-jay-drasher-kristy-hollywood-pre-ssusa-banter/?fbclid=IwAR3jXQQewArzqjxlj8wdg_C9aXKwvX4kTkpRqulA0ZIPzsb4Htt18opf6qg" target="_blank">Burning Bike Podcast's</a> latest episode and plugged it into the van's aux jack so we could hear the recent interview Hollywood and I did with Spinner after Homie Fest to hear how our first podcast sounded (sponsored by <a href="https://www.oneononebike.com/" target="_blank">One on One Bike Studio</a>)....for a good laugh, stop now and take a listen! [Men's 2019 Champ Jay Drasher is interviewed first, Hollywood & I start at 37:46 and it's all things Mpls, Homie Fest, single speeds, and trails in far places!]<br />
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Done? F'yeah! Hope you got a good laugh or two. Back to the trip... Austin, TX... sunshine, tourists, Halloween, and making new friends!<br />
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We started out with brunch at a place called <a href="http://www.forthright.cafe/menus/" target="_blank">Forthright</a> after a quick Google search and was blown away to have found the most amazingly delicious avocado toast I have ever had. I could have eaten 10 lbs of it! Fresh, homemade bread with perfectly ripened avocado mash, topped with pumpkin seeds and over-hard eggs and a touch of heat to make sure I chugged my water... OMG, if I ever go back to Austin, this better still be there!!!<br />
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Afterwards, we wandered through town, pointed towards Mellow Johnny's, taking in the costumed locals as they moved about... Penguin on an e-scooter, devils and kitties, oh wait... that's an average Thursday? Anyway.. once in MJ's, we took in some of the memorabilia and debated over souvenir tees. <br />
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Next up, the Stevie Ray Vaughn Statue! Thinking of our buddy Jay Drasher, we sunbathed like lizards at the statue as Jay streamed some SRV on this cell phone and we took out artsy shots. I called buddy Jay and it turned out he'd just landed and parked his rental car just across the park from us so we lingered a lil longer for him to arrive and catch up briefly before moving on for an afternoon ride.<br />
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Jay, Coach and I headed out to one of the Barton Creek Greenbelt trailheads for a lil afternoon ride while Mary enjoyed her book in the sun. With a still stiff left knee and starting our ride in a black diamond section of the trail, the first half of our ride was slow and included a lot of walking. By the second half, we found ourselves on more flowy trails and enjoyed the warm fall Texas day, killing time and burning off energy before we were to meet a friend of Jay's for a late lunch/early dinner.<br />
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Jim, who Jay hadn't seen for 15 years and I had never met, asked us to meet him at <a href="https://elalmacafe.com/" target="_blank">El Alma</a> for some recommended Mexican cuisine. It was such a joy to meet Jim and hear them reminisce on their bike and life adventures of years ago, sometimes hearing a story from a new perspective then Jay had previously shared. Top that off with AMAZING food (get the Queso Fundido!!!), tasty local beers and the warm, southern atmosphere topped off the afternoon. <br />
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But the best Halloween fun was yet to come....<br />
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With the reunion FAR from over, Jim invited to take us out for drinks after dinner. He hopped in the van as I rode the cooler like a jump seat in the back and he navigated us to a fun local hang called <a href="https://www.nickelcitybar.com/" target="_blank">Nickel City</a>. And what could be cooler than a rad local bar in Austin on Halloween for a 80's baby ??? <br />
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How 'bout one that literally converted the ENTIRE PLACE into Moe's Tavern, straight outta The Simpsons!!!!!!! Being a gal that has watched the Simpsons since the debut in 1989, memorized every word of every song and soundbite on the original cassette "The Simpsons Sing the Blues", I was a touristy child drooling over all the visual fun, the costumes of characters I love and some I'd forgotten, and my wonderful friends that let me just run amok and take all the pics!<br />
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If I had only known, I would have planned for weeks on the perfect costume... but the true bliss of it all was the utter shock and amazement that followed a simple step through their doors. Satiated and in awe, we called it a night as the party grew and the line outside began to wrap around, dropping Jim off at home to meet his doggo's before returning to Smithville for another restful night in anticipation of more fun to come.<br />
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Enjoying Austin's Weird,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-70596620382047913482019-11-06T18:32:00.005-06:002019-11-07T12:46:53.597-06:00SSUSA 2019 Ch. 2 - Smithville and the Red Rooster Barn<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nwbml6P5qOY/XcNjjO8xFZI/AAAAAAAAC6k/RyFcx3ksJ1E2oYpQqeQtOA3cL8NHBxRgACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nwbml6P5qOY/XcNjjO8xFZI/AAAAAAAAC6k/RyFcx3ksJ1E2oYpQqeQtOA3cL8NHBxRgACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_0901.JPG" width="240" /></a>Thirty-some hours into our road trip for this year's edition of SSUSA we have arrived at our AirBnB in Smithville, TX, "<a href="https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/7800120?source_impression_id=p3_1573085037_slkFkS3Lp1MKv49G" target="_blank">The Red Rooster Barn</a>". Jay has been sleeping for hours after a filling lunch at El Mexicano Grill as I listen to the rain on the barn roof and "Tennessee Whiskey" echoes warmly out of the tin mug I've turned into a wireless speaker. It's been raining ever since we finished our ride in Bentonville yesterday around lunch time but I've relished the excuse to rotate my knee through the four stages of RICE hell. <br />
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Hot water with Emergen-C warms me from the inside as I actually sit here and relax in the simplicity of this place and the knowing that the upcoming shenanigans will take over sooner than we think. But for now, this quiet lil barn is our peaceful home away from home. <br />
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Smithville, home of the Sandra Bullock film "Hope Floats", is a cute little town bursting with Southern hospitality. The main drag in town is ornate and we drove by as a film crew set up for a new Netflix show we heard whisperings of. We met Coach and Mary at <a href="http://www.honeyspizza.com/" target="_blank">Honey's Pizza</a> for dinner once they rolled into town and feasted on wine and Italian goodness. Game 7 of the World Series was on the TV over the bar and we enjoyed cheering with the locals that filled the tables around us. <br />
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The decor reminded me of home and the kindness of our company was the perfect way to wrap up a rainy day behind the windshield. The true creme de la creme, though, was the friggin' dessert!!!! As the restaurant doors locked and the game sadly ended in NY's favor, our server asked if we wanted cinnamon rolls for dessert. Usually, I only think of cinnamon rolls for breakfast, but hell if I'm not so grateful that we said 'yes'. <br />
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What came out was three amazingly fresh cinnamon rolls cooked in a wood-fired pizza oven in an iron skillet (but only one survived long enough for me to get out the phone and take a pic). The rolls had been topped with olive oil and some amazing secrets that surrounded them in a pool of melted goodness. We devoured every single morsel of them before the skillet could cool and I watched as Jay tried to channel Superman's powers and cool the skillet so he could drink up the last of the magic.<br />
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After dinner, we brought them back to the barn to wind down the night and catch up on the stories of the road.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span><br />
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Ready for rest,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-4647535646963178592019-11-06T17:31:00.003-06:002019-11-06T17:33:29.195-06:00Coughs, Codeine, and Not-So-Soft Landings *SSUSA 2019 - Ch. 1*We left Minneapolis last Monday night at 7:00pm as the radio reported on snow falling in southern MN and throughout Iowa. Although the morning started with me at the office Dr's clinic with a cough that had kept both of us awake for the last few nights, we still loaded up the van with a bag full of codeine, Mucinex, cough drops, tissues and a crap load of positive thoughts. Add to that three bikes, a bin full of snacks, riding gear for all weather, and one bitching ass Champions Belt... Texas here we come!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">We drove through the night on a mission set on breakfast and ridin' dirt with Coach and Mary in Bentonville, AR by 8:00am Tuesday. Jay did almost ALL of the driving with his amazing night driving superpowers as I faded in and out of a codeine-fueled slumber. [Nothing beats opioid warning labels to scare you back into #SoberOctober after Homie Fest, just sayin']</span><br />
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After a couple stops in the dimly lit outer rims of roadside gas stations to both sleep and burn some time as we stayed ahead of schedule, we found ourselves bellied up in a booth at the Village Inn in Bentonville, AR. Coffee, eggs, and a strawberry crepe later we were off to meet Coach and Mary at the Southern Trailhead of the Coler Trails in town. <br />
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The sky was grey and the cool air was full of moisture after multiple rainy days preceded our arrival. I should have taken heed when I saw this as we entered the trails...<br />
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Within a minute, I lost my front wheel as I exited a slick wooden bridge smattered with wet leaves that broke loose as I leaned in for the upcoming turn, crashing full speed and with all of my weight into the unforgiving surface of the stoney ground all on my left kneed camp. It instantly sucked all of the air from my chest and I struggled to get out of my pedals with my bike on top of me. I writhed in pain on the muddy trail as I made every effort to slow my breathing while dry-heaving over the creek below.<br />
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After a few minutes (Garmin says it was 7 min), Jay helped me up and I walked along the trail in an attempt to 'limp it off'. I finished out the next 7.5 miles jostling between pure admiration of the nature surrounding us to the searing pain in my left knee every time I stomped down on a climb or riding a goofy-footed ready position. The rocky trail was slow and slippery, but the pace and pausing a few times along the ride were quite peaceful and pretty.<br />
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... the hauntingly beautiful song that emitted from the bridge was captivating for so many of my senses. My knee ached and the cold cut straight to my core, but the sounds flooded me with a flood of peace.<br />
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Enchanted, I reluctantly left the bridge as the rain started back up and we loaded up the muddy steeds to find a tasty, warm lunch in the lil town square where the original five n dime still stood. In a mild food coma, we left the cozy Italian restaurant, Tavola Trattoria, said "see ya later" to our friends and headed south again, Dallas-bound, as I searched Hotwire for a steal of a deal on a 4-star hotel on a quiet Tuesday night. <br />
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We pulled into town and found the Velvet Taco, a counter-service taco joint with an upscale twist on the street taco. After dinner, we retreated to an amazing deal on a suite at the Wyndham where we snuggled on the couch for Game 6 of the World Series as I iced my knee. Thank heavens for the king size bed to keep me from bumping my knee into Jay during the night! <br />
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We were back on the road by 9:00 am to finish the sub 4 hour drive to our final destination of Smithville, TX just outside of Austin. We stopped in Carls Corner for gas and coffee where I wandered around the store gathering dorky souvenirs and Jay awkwardly waited for the Dunkin Donuts gals making the breakfast sandwiches to figure out how to make each one... she asked the cashier for step my step ingredients for each one she made (even if she was making a repeat of the previous order), as she lazily grazed from the ingredient bins, popping them in her mouth as if she were just making breakfast at home. :oP<br />
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Bewildered, we grabbed our coffee and his breakfast and returned to the road. We saw a longhorn steer somewhere outside of Waco but nothing I'd seen yet has made me think "they're right, everything IS bigger in Texas". But then again, the adventure is just beginning....<br />
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Limpin' in TX,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-75631156980674328702019-09-08T17:49:00.002-05:002019-09-08T17:54:10.668-05:00It's about which direction you look...Last week put me through the ringer and left me feeling lost as I tried to embrace the weekend. Stress at work twisted my brain into knots and I took every action I could to ward off another weekend of migraines, nausea and fatigue. Then a ghost from Kristy's past surfaced before our Friday night ride, bringing back harsh memories of days when I let people walk all over me. I shook the whispers that bounced between my ears by tearing it up on my new Specialized Crux CX bike with Jay, Peterson, and Zack down by Fort Snelling before we headed to dinner that evening.<br />
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Back at home with doggo at my feet and merlot in my paw, Jay and I settled in on the couch and tuned into a podcast I found that two of our friends put on to help promote, hype, and corral all the single speed miscreants for this year's edition of SSUSA. The guest interviewed was 2012 W's Champ Kerry W. who made it quickly apparent through the fast termination of any discussion of my current responsibility over the Champion's Belt that dark waters ran deep within her in relation to me. It was funny at first, but the vehemence behind her sharp words soon got to me and I turned it off 1/2 way through. The same dark wave washed over me... I was warmed by the kind things my friends would say about me early in the podcast, but shocked at the way each statement was so violently shut down. <br />
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The murky waters lingered come morning as I tried to prepare for our local CX race. I know I beat her for the belt in 2013 and have seen her at a few events since, but I had no idea what created such depth of hatred to fester. Jay tried to talk me out of my sullen mood and, when he left to grab breakfast, I knew I had to change the direction I was letting my mind go and look for the better path. I plugged in my headphones and turned on my race playlist... first up "<a href="https://youtu.be/sVzvRsl4rEM" target="_blank">How You Like Me Now?" by The Heavy</a>. I put on mascara (cuz I have blonde eye lashes and never leave home without it), packed my bags, and readied myself to push that new bike to every limit I could find.<br />
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It's odd and something I am grateful for every time it happens... but sometimes the universe reaches out and turns your head in the right direction... that's if you're willing to look there.<br />
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We got to The Loppet Trailhead for the open pre-ride, kitted up in my pink camo Podiumwear skin suit, pink helmet, pink shoes, and hot f'in pink Crux ready to see what we had in store. Jay and I tore through three super fast and fun laps to check out the course and I was confident that today was going to be a good day. I laid my bike against a wall to collect my thoughts and plan for the next hour and a half before my race, standing on the back patio of the chalet. <br />
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I noticed out of the corner of my eye a young boy in blue (maybe 5 years old) slowly walking towards me who slowed as he neared, making eye contact with an inquisitive look on his face. I squatted down to his eye level and asked how he was doing. "I'm going to cheer for you today! I want you to win because that's my sister's favorite color!". I'd never met the boy, the family didn't have anyone in the race; they only came to check it all out. His younger sister approached in an Elsa dress, holding a pink cycling water bottle that matched mine. I thanked him for his kindness and grabbed my bike in which he responded "Your bike is pink, too?! You ARE going to win!". I thanked him again and returned to my pre-race preparations.<br />
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At race time, I rolled back up to the Chalet to see my new favorite family leaving and I stopped to tell them how much my day was truly brightened thanks to meeting them. The young boy came back to me and held out his small pinky.. "I pinky swear you are going to win today". I twisted my pinky with his and said "I'm definitely winning today, thanks to you!". <br />
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When it came to the race, I felt amazing. I have learned so much this year that I am proud to say I am a more technical rider than I have ever been. Me and the Crux (aka "Lightning") were flying through the twists and turns, catching air and holding a great position in 4th place lap after lap. It was a feverous rush in my veins to be flying through the course after battling injuries in the last few years, feeling as if I'm finally on my path back. And when I burped my tubeless front tire on a rock midway through the race, my friend Charlie who was in the pit for Megan, kindly put air back in my tire as I took my single speed out for a hot lap to retain my position until I could return to the pit for Lightning again.<br />
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Photo: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sabillon" target="_blank">Carlos Sabillón</a></div>
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I didn't win the race but I held my 4th place position for the entire race in a field of some awesomely talented women! Sharing great conversation with the gals in my field was the perfect way to wrap up the day before loading up the bikes and heading back home with an exhausted body and cleansed soul.<br />
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I made a choice that day... I could have stared down the dark hallway in anguish and loathing, or could turn my back and walk into the light and choose to live my joy, share encouragement with others, and high five new friends. I hope others know that, too.. sometimes you just have to choose to look in the other direction to find the life that's inviting you to live it.<br />
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Focused on the light,<br />
Kristy Kreme<br />
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PSS... What else is on my playlist?<br />
"Bleed it Out" - Linkin Park<br />
"Bad Girls" - M.I.A.<br />
"Happy Go Sucky Fucky" - Die Antwoord \m/<br />
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<br />Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-8489587470677601622019-08-19T21:51:00.000-05:002019-11-07T13:01:20.485-06:00For the Love of Mountain BikingThere's an interesting moment that settles in on Sunday nights after a race weekend that I've become accustomed to... what did the weekend's adventures do to influence tomorrow's wardrobe? After the Cuyuna Crusher in Ironton, MN this weekend, the answer was it's own unique combination. <br />
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The bee sting I suffered on my left bicep 3 miles into my race on Sunday left a heart-shaped welt that still throbs and itches to this moment... sleeveless blouse, it was. Oh yeah, and pack the Benadryl. The poison ivy on my knee kept me from shaving my legs for fear of spreading the infection so a couple strategically placed Wonder Woman band-aides to cover the calamine lotion and stretchy work pants paired nicely with my top. Complete with tennis shoes to accommodate tired legs... Monday's workwear was complete!<br />
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But that's only one of the odd reminders of how much I love mountain biking. <br />
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Jay and I headed up to #ShredTheRed on Saturday morning with our race bikes and a bitchin' Yeti SB100 demo bike from One On One Bike Studio to play and get ready for Sunday's race. The only bummer was the migraine that settled in as I kitted up for the ride, swallowing a handful of Exedrine and Advil as the blind spots in my right eye made it hard to unpack my gear but I tried to press on. We headed out with P-Max and I tried to keep up as I begged the adrenaline to chase away the pain. The kaleidoscope halo's in my vision slowly crept to the sides and the meds kept the pain at bay but did nothing for the migraine fatigue. Jay and Peter were so kind to wait for me when I faltered and follow me at times so I could push my pace. Me and the Yeti played hard and I had a blast flying through the trail in new ways I'd never done before although every climb zapped my energy more than it should have.<br />
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After the ride, we grabbed some food and made our way to the top of True North Base Camp where Bruce offered us a spot to camp with him on top of the world. Jay, Rosco and I wandered to a shady spot with a breathtaking lookout and I stood silently as the winds whipped up the side of the bluff and cascaded around us in a crescendo of cotton and birch leaves. It's these moments of still silence that remind me the true depth of calm I find in nature and can sit with peacefully for time unknown.<br />
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The evening came and went with new friends, laughter, fires, and a lightning show off in the distance. We all retreated to bed early due to the impending rain and slumbered lightly when it came in gently as a constant shower to lull us back to sleep. It was the morning, however, that woke me but I chose not to fall back to sleep. <br />
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Chasing the storm was a strong wind which crashed like waves all around us. It reminded me of the ocean in Mexico, breaking along the shore as I listened with eyes half-closed and soaked in the amazing strength of the sound. I did everything I could to stay awake and memorize it. <br />
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It wasn't long until everyone was awake and headed toward the race. The next few hours passed in a slight blur as they usually do and then we found ourselves lining up, ready for the start. It was amazing to be the first woman called up once again, leading the series into the 7th race as the series nears the end. The migraine hangover lingered so I dropped a few ibuprofen before the race and wore my darkest sunglasses to try to combat the light sensitivity that hung on. <br />
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Climbing up the start road made it obvious that I was going to have to fight for every inch as I watched rider after rider pass me and ride away. I tired to keep it out of my head and press on, celebrating once I crested the top and started the rippin' decent back down to the start/finish to begin our first full lap. Somewhere before we hit Roly Poly, I was stung in the bicep on my left arm, flailing awkwardly as I swatted away the aggressive bee, then blindly trying to work the stinger out of my arm as I descended with one hand on the bars. Every time I flexed it was like lightning, so I kept working on it until I felt relief. <br />
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I was sitting in 11th place when I came through to start our first lap and settled in to do whatever damage I could in the 21 miles to go. I fought hard, practiced everything I taught and learned this summer to the nth degree, and chased down rider after rider until I found myself in 6th. In the final lap, I could see 5th at times some 15-30 seconds ahead of me, but she was a stronger climber than I was and rode away from me in the critical moments. I rode as hard as I could all the way to the finish and collapsed exhausted in 6th with pride yet fought back tears as my resolve melted away. <br />
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Although I severely wanted a top 5 finish, 6th place still moved me farther into 1st place and I couldn't be happier. I set out this year to finish top 5 overall, so this was the most amazing result to end my mountain bike season with! Sure, I still have one MAJOR FUCKING SHOW to get to in Austin this year, but the lessons I learned this year will make it a whole other experience. Me and the ole LaMere hard tail are gonna #SendIt! <br />
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I try to explain it at times... there's something about mountain bike racing that fulfills me no matter what place I'm in (yet sometimes I feel like I let myself down, yes)... but most of the time, if I'm off learning to hit something I was once afraid of, pumping through a rhythm section, catching air or just doing something for the first time, I can't deny the pure joy of it all. It fills my chest with light and makes me feel alive!<br />
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Lovin' this dirt under my nails,<br />
Kristy Kreme<br />
<br />Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-51141599269232300612019-08-13T20:37:00.001-05:002019-08-13T20:50:01.511-05:00Zero to 60... Straight into a Brick WallJust a few weeks ago, the love of my life went from being an immortal robot of a human being that survives on burgers and Mtn Dew to a vulnerable, anemic mortal so quickly that it still is settling in.<br />
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It feels like just the other day when he felt like shit, but "we'll figure it out" or "it'll pass". Today, after many appointments, biopsies, and multiple vials of blood taken from an already weakened shell we try to anchor on the results of "It's not cancer". What we've slowly adapted to is the reluctant reflection of our Cancer-Free enthusiasm from Jay's doctors and nurses as they hesitantly pause and give us an awkward shrug of "well, that's true...". </div>
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It was sometime after Jay's first appointment with his new doctor and BFF that we realized that this wasn't going away without a fight.. this is going to be for life. (not the typical chronic he would like to have in his life). It's taken some time for it to settle in that what we once thought would pass turned out to actually be a chronic autoimmune disease. It wasn't bad lettuce (though I'm sure he wishes it really had been), it's just his a-hole immune system attacking his colon and everything he eats which, as we find, has no known cure and is very hard to figure out what he can or cannot eat. </div>
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And here I sit, once wondering "how can I be invincible like you?" to now frantically pulling out the paperwork from the surgeon because I can't remember the name of his latest prescription and wondering if it is okay to cry. Will my caretaker-self be stronger than my fear?</div>
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Flash Back to Day 3 Post-Diagnosis.. Jay rode out to meet me at the Trailhead where I coached and we rode home together through town catching up on our day. </div>
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How are you feeling?</div>
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Are the meds helping yet?</div>
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Oh, so you have to go back to Target for the 4th day in a row for a new Rx they've called in due to another deficiency? Cool. </div>
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Back at home, Jay dismissed himself from dinner to use the restroom. Sometime later he called out "There's a poop in the bowl!". As a tear rolled down my face, I felt my first flicker of hope. I always joked with Jay that we worked together so well because I always think farts are funny... turns out they're also something to celebrate.</div>
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Learning how to say "<a href="http://crohnscolitisfoundation.org/" target="_blank">ulcerative colitis</a>" is my new normal.<br />
Kristy Kreme</div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-58529624366390386872018-11-14T20:27:00.000-06:002018-11-16T18:15:38.961-06:00Hollywood Cycles - Beyond the Brick & MortarMore than 12 years ago, I was a little lost in life. I had a couple close friends, my bookclub, and a deep longing for more in my life... love, adventure, a community to belong to... a place where I finally felt like I belonged.<br />
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Until I walked into Hollywood Cycles.<br />
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It was the catalyst of change in my life that eventually helped me meet my future husband, my deepest friendships ever imagined, a team that offers camaraderie and taught me how to race, the MN cycling community, and a badass group of amazing new friends I've had the honor to explore the world of bikes with...<br />
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and it was this team that became a family.<br />
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Looking back on last Friday, the last day the doors would close at Hollywood Cycles, I've been reflecting on all the iterations of the shop that existed, puppies that grew underfoot, late night parties and rock n' roll, legends and locals that came in for Jay's professional skills and sometimes just a lil fellowship. I'm grateful for the courage I had to quit my day job when Jay relocated to Mpls in 2012, working to help him set up the new shop in a new location. I had a ton of fun going to work each day with my dog & my best friend, learned a ton about bike maintenance and celebrated a relaxed work environment on all the hot days in summer.<br />
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And then I think of the troubles, the hard times, the lean times and worry.<br />
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But all the pain falls by the wayside when I think of the faces, laughter, hugs and high fives within these four walls. I rejoice in knowing that our THC* family will last long after the sign on the door fades. These people who were once strangers in the crowd now hold a place in the deepest crevices of my heart. My team, my friends, my bike family... for life!<br />
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Jay - endless thanks to you for all you've done to make cycling a joyful part of who I am and supporting me through every podium and tear along the way. You have built an amazing team of unique, fun, kind and supportive people. You support the underdogs, the competition, the youth and up-n-comers all alike.<br />
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You have a heart as big as the moon and have show that your true passion absolutely is to bring cycling joy to all that come to you for help. <br />
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Thank you<br />
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Cheers to you, Hollywood Cycles, for 14 great years and to Hollywood, who'll keep the dream alive.<br />
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Black n' White - THC* - Girl Fiend for life!<br />
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<3 kreme="" kristy="" nbsp="" p=""></3>Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-16706327744299138162018-11-05T14:44:00.000-06:002019-03-23T12:48:37.098-05:00Single Speed USA - Port Jervis, NY.... What the f%#&?I woke up at 2:30 in the morning on Saturday to the pouring rain outside, listening to the storm as I pressed my way into the warmth of Jay's arms and tried to keep my mind from running away with the anticipation of the day ahead. The next few hours passed by with intermittent sleep but, when Jay and I locked eyes at 5:30, we knew it was time to get up and get moving.<br />
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Our phones burst to life with flood alerts as we loaded up the last of our things before making the 45 min. drive to Port Jervis for SSUSA 2018. We jumped into Ramblin' Fever and descended the twisty, narrow road as the rain poured down and flowed along side us like a river. The water had just crested the first dam we came upon but we passed safely and luckily the next few hadn't yet crested. It was a white-knuckle drive for 40 min into the small NY town but we arrived with enough time to grab a bite to eat in a tiny diner before the real shit show began.<br />
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The rain ceased and the sun peeked out as we settled up our tab and headed to registration. Dejay was there to welcome us to his playground with hugs and piles of swag (best $65 well spent!). We found a shady place to park the van, loaded up our gear and ran through the final checks of our single speed Lamere's. We gathered around the fountain in the center of town... a rag-tag group of single speeders in varying degrees of costumes and lycra. Hugs, high fives and laughter floated throughout the crowd and I chucked to myself as I watched a man and woman dressed straight out of 1950's church attire standing next to a sign inviting us to "Find your way through the Bible". <br />
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It appears they new who they were dealing with.<br />
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A police escort lead us through town to the base of the Watershed Trail where we climbed a long gravel road to the top but, somewhere along the way, the lead group of us got lost. Apparently, we were all to reconvene at the top for a LeMond start, running through a knee-deep creek but the groups Jay and I were in at the front never got the memo. <br />
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My pack proceeded to climb for 4 miles of rocky, slow single track before we found even a moment of respite. It was about that time that Jay called me. We were 1/2 hour in and Jay found himself at the top of 'lap #2'... solo. I had no idea if my pack was in the right place or not so we pressed on. Jay hung tight waiting for the group he dropped, convinced he could hear their freewheels approaching. <i>We later found out it was actually the sound of a nearby rattlesnake.</i> WTF?!<br />
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He called me again while I was pushing my bike up a mile-long hike-a-bike, frustrated that he still hadn't seen a soul. I was doing the math and it was looking to be a six hour day if this pace kept up but I put one foot in front of the other until I got to the top. <i>(Just keep swimming, girl)</i>. Once there, I was back on the bike but my legs were shot. I couldn't get my speed up so I changed my mindset and focused on the joy of riding completely new terrain. It was a blast riding the hardest rock beds I'd ever seen... you couldn't even call them "rock gardens" because they they never ended.<br />
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Wet from the night's rain that kept flowing down the trails, I focused on riding over the rocks as they clacked and shifted beneath me. This is one of the greatest joys in my life at this time... I'm riding with more skill than I ever have before and it brings me life! Even though I'm not the fastest, most talented mountain biker as I wish I was, I am the best ME on a bike ... better than I was a year ago, a month, f&%$... better than I was yesterday.<br />
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Some 5 miles later, Jay texted me, "I'm freaking out here. Please call me". Eh? I pulled off the trail and used the last seconds of battery that remained to call him. Every one of our pals that Jay found said they hadn't seen me and it became apparent that my group was not on course, or at least not in the right order. I told him I'd head to the campground where all the loops were supposed to come through and wait for him... wherever the F that was. I was over 2 hours in, low on water, and old injuries were dropping in on me to make sure I hadn't forgot them.<br />
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I found the campground at (my) mile 17 and found water, beer, and Chewy to rest with and wait for Jay to return. Muddy, soaked, and exhausted, I sat until he rode up to me pissed that he'd missed all the fun. Heck, we couldn't find a single person who actually found the entire course and did it in the right order. Dejay.<br />
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We rode back into town to find some food and head to the Riverside Park where we found a shady spot to nap under before the evening's championship games and debauchery started. Nearby, we saw a small pool about the size of a hot tub, made out of a tarp and some hay bails. We figured it had something to do with our Rubber Ducky number plates and jumped in to soak out overheated bodies. We came back to life in the cool water as we made friends with others who joined us for a soak and the rest of the crowd began to fill the park.</div>
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Although the course was a friggin' disaster of missed laps, unmarked turns, whatever.. for the $65 entry fee, we got a crap ton of swag, and the party in the park had a live band, a full dinner spread with a hog roast, pulled pork, veggies, slaw, and FREE BEER!!! Kudos, Dejay & cruė!!!</div>
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As we finished eating, the sun began to set and the heat of the day went with it. We shifted to the field to explore the demented depths of Dejay's mind and discover how the next SSUSA champions were going to compete.</div>
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Heats of 3-4 riders were to ride pixie bikes through a gauntlet of drunken single speeders assaulting them with pool noodles as they navigated a slew of road cones on their way to the duck pond where we had to dismount and cyclocross our way through it. Luckily, us ladies went first so the 'pool noodlers' weren't too drunk and brazen yet and the hits weren't all that severe (at least in the first heat). I won the first heat with a nice gap and sat on a small hill watching the men's heats begin as I tried to bring down my heart rate. I looked over at Jay and whispered "I want to win this"....<br />
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As the men's heats began, full-contact racing and spectating unfolded and the antics escalated quickly. The 'noodlers' realized they could bend the noodles into loops and hook the bars of the riders, a running sprinkler was saturating the ground into a mushy, soggy mess, and the guys were even wrestling in the duck pond as they raced. <br />
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<span style="text-align: start;"> My whole body hummed as I watched the men's heats, calculating the best bike, the best pole position, quietly anticipating the women's finals. I was on my feet the second Dejay shouted "Ladies", making my way to the inside start position with the little black n' yellow pixie bike in hand. It was down to three of us and I carefully lined up my pedals as time slowed down in anticipation of the start... three laps ahead of us... this was it. </span></div>
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I got the hole shot but had my bars hooked while riding through the cones on the first lap and went down hard. As the crowd heckled us on, I scrambled back onto my bike and took the lead back. I dismounted to run through the duck pond on the 2nd lap and I took a hard slap to the face from a noodle, but didn't miss a beat. I charged through the pond, trying to stay in the lead for the final lap. Although it was quick, I already felt like puking but stayed focused as I neared the cones and 'noodlers', choosing to stay seated on my pixie bike to keep my center of gravity low and duck under the attempted hooks. I trampled through the pond one last time and crossed the finish with arms raised, squeezing Dejay in a soggy embrace.<br />
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SSUSA 2018 CHAMPION!!! I'm gonna have fun hammering my name into that Champion's Belt for the third time! :)<br />
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High on the excitement, we partied in the park a little longer but soon rode a few blocks to a nearby bowling alley for the Hosting Competition. The teams bowled as we drank beers and heckled. The winners were competing for Austin, TX and we erupted when they won... Texas 2019, here we come!<br />
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We retreated to the campground soon after, exhausted and over-served. Jay and I set the bikes aside and crawled into the back of Ramblin' Fever for a drunken slumber, waking the next day as the sun broke peacefully through the windshield. It was such a lovely place!<br />
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One of the best thoughts as we prepared to leave was that we still had a week of adventure in front of us. It was quite the way to start our trip! Friends, fun, new experiences... yep, life is good. We said goodbye to our pals, new and old, and headed back to Sparta for the next adventure.<br />
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Let the relaxation begin!<br />
Kristy Kreme<br />
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<br />Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-86581963943618639612018-11-04T20:36:00.001-06:002018-11-04T20:40:27.335-06:00Forest Lodge.. the start of our East Coast adventuresOur weary bodies gently fell into bed and slumbered for a much needed 10 hours as the insects chirped outside our window. We were held blissfully captive in Sleep's arms until the morning sun woke us through the cabin windows around 10:00am on Friday. Joe, Cindy, and Anna had long been awake but generously let us slumber to catch up on sleep after the 2 1/2 hours of sleep we had the night before.<br />
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In the light of day, I took in the spectacular surroundings of the quiet lake community with hot coffee in my hands.. breathing it all in from the wraparound deck and enjoying the silent peace of the lake. After breakfast, we suited up for a road ride with Joe and Anna to stretch out the legs and enjoy their little piece of heaven. <br />
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The ride was beautiful. Every twisting turn lead to another, every climb gave way to a rewarding decent, and the landscape was peppered with old barns and farmhouses that had been well loved and maintained for decades. We were 32 miles in and an hour from the cabin when a gentle rain began to fall on our warm skin. Joe checked the radar and reached for our phones, quickly putting them into a zip lock bag.. "We're gonna get wet". <br />
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The welcome drops quickly turned on us as a heavy downpour rolled in and thunder rumbled off in the distance. Lightning moved in over our heads, exploding violently as the thunder shook the air around us. I was honestly terrified, hanging precariously on the edge of panic and full meltdown as the pouring rain washed the tears from my face. With two climbs separating us from the cabin, we had to ride straight into the storm to find our shelter. I lost my cool as we made our final climb and the lightning seemed to crash along side of us, but Jay stayed with me every foot of the way. <br />
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It moved past us as we made the final mile up the gravel road to the cabin and I finally took a much need breath to recover. Jay and I shared a soggy hug as I regained my composure, grateful to have made it back to the cabin. We all separated to get warm and dry and were quickly warmed by Joe's presence in the kitchen as he prepared some hot food to set us all up for comfort for the rest of the day. With a tasty beer and my favorite pens, I took some time to catch up on my journalling as the rain dripped off the porch roof.<br />
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Joe took us out on the neighbor's golf cart to give us a tour of the lake and the community, sharing with us the long history of the families that built the cabins that surrounded us. Decades of family legacies stretched out around the lake, roots spread out over the rocks that the foundations were built on and continued to give life to the stories that came to life at the table at night. Great food, warm company, and shared laughter closed out the night and we crept off to bed to prepare for the next phase of our road trip... Singlespeeds...shenanigans...beer... and debauchery. What better way to recover before the shit-show was about to begin.<br />
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Enjoying a lil home away from home,<br />
Kristy Kreme<br />
<br />Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-21488943108699244712018-09-08T11:35:00.000-05:002018-09-08T11:35:30.401-05:00The Perfect Ramblin' RoadtripIn August, Jay and I set out on what was to become our best road trip ever..<br />
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10 days, 8 states, 4 bikes, 2 dreamers..<br />
and one Ramblin' Fever.<br />
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In spite of everyone's<i> </i>concern and foreboding, we chose to drive our 1980 Dodge Ram Van "Ramblin' Fever" out to New York for a summer vacation filled with bikes, racing, family, friends, and awesome new places. Sure, we have no idea how many miles are on her but we've spent the last year getting everything tuned up, replaced, and repaired for just an adventure such as this. New engine and transmission, new tires and new-to-us captains chairs.. loaded her up and we were ready to rock! Although I knew Jay had a shadow of worry in the back of his mind, I was bathing in a warm feeling of bliss and calm as we headed out on the road after work for our adventure to begin.<br />
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It felt like fall as we embarked under grey skies. A cool breeze and Willie Nelson tunes swirled in the air as Ramblin' Fever purred along the highway. We were shooting to drive through the night to avoid traffic in Chicago and arrive in Toledo just as dawn was about to break for a cat nap and breakfast before we busted out the bikes for some urban trail riding. <br />
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A couple hours into the drive, we were chasing a thunderstorm down 94 as we headed towards Madison, WI. The skies entertained us with magnificent explosions of light and illuminated branches that seemed to stretch out across the sky for what felt like 10 seconds each time. We continued to watch the storm as we headed east and the night settled in. <br />
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Jay loves driving at night, which is a true blessing and complete opposite of the uncontrolled car-colepsy I experience at night; I'm almost incapable of staying awake on long night drives. I must have fallen into a deep sleep sometime after Chicago because I woke with a jolt as I felt Jay tap my shoulder and say "Kristy, we're getting pulled over". <br />
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The clock read 2:30am and we were somewhere an hour or so out of Toledo, likely the only vehicle on the road.<br />
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I sat my chair up, wiped the sleep from my eyes and rolled the window down as the officer approached from my side of the van. It was humid from the recent rains and Ramblin' was running rich, filling the stagnant summer air with a thick plume of fuel and exhaust. The officer shined his flashlight on our faces and the dash and opened by saying "I pulled you over because your license plate isn't illuminated". Jay smiled and nodded, sharing that he had discovered the same problem just hours before we'd left, likely a problem from me getting rear-ended in June that we hadn't realized. He handed over his license and insurance cards and the officer said he'd return with a warning as long as everything checked out.<br />
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We sat in the van patiently as I sleepily giggled about the officer's demeanor and the thick fuel smell we could now taste on our tongues. As he spoke to us, it was as if he was afraid to look into the back of the windowless van. I only saw peeks of his face as he made quick glances at us around the door frame. Twenty minutes went by and he still hadn't returned and we deduced it was going to be one of two results: he was either a) trying to find SOMETHING to get us with, or b) he was waiting for the second squad car to arrive. But, he returned, apologized for the wait, and sent us on our way with a printed out warning.<br />
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After idling so long, Ramblin' roosted the officer with a thick cloud of smoke as we pulled back onto the highway and we shared a nervous laugh together... <i>crap, now he's gonna get us. Ha! </i> <br />
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Jay continued to drive the last hour or so to Toledo where we found an all-night diner. We pulled around to the rear employee entrance where there were no lights and parked the van. Jay shoved aside our bags and blew up the thermarests, making a cozy bed in the back of the van with our feet nestled precariously beneath our bikes and snuggled by our gear bags on all sides. We slept for a couple hours, woken up by the growing summer heat and sunshine filtering into the windshield and the morning delivery truck unloading next to us. <br />
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We clambered out and shuffled into the diner in need of a red eye plate and some fresh coffee. (Queue <a href="https://youtu.be/yhEwUfqHKxQ" target="_blank">Supersuckers "Good Livin'"</a> for proper theme music).<br />
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The diner was run by one cook and one waitress and they were killing it! The delivery guy was stocking the shelves with his morning delivery as the UPS guy heckled the chef from the counter service seats. We laughed and ate as the few hours of sleep and stiffness ebbed and I planned our morning ride. Back in 2016, we passed through this area on our way to SSUSA in Pennsylvania where I found us an urban single track to ride. Thanks to the AllTrails app, I was able to find us the same trail which had grown since we were last there! So, we headed out, kitted up, and hit the dirt at Jermain Trail as the summer heat set in.<br />
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There we were at 10:00am on Thursday riding singletrack in Toledo, only 16 hours after we'd left home. Splatters of sunshine clawed their way through the dense canopy above us as we navigated the flowy singletrack. Deer quietly roamed the trail along side us, popping their heads up as we passed in relative silence. It was the perfect way to spin out the legs before making the last charge to NJ - our bed for the night and base camp for the next few days.<br />
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I took over the reigns and cranked up the tunes as we watched the miles fly by. About a third of the way down I-80 in PA, we hit traffic.. major traffic. The sign had said there was road construction ahead, but no one was moving. After 20 minutes, we had only moved about 3 or 4 car lengths... another 30 min. went by and we didn't move an inch. Sitting in a cloudless sky and 90+ degrees, we were HOT. Every car around us had their windows up and likely had the AC's cranked. Our fully carpeted 80's dream had no such luxury so we dripped sweat in our seats, hanging out the window trying to cool ourselves in the smallest breeze if we could.<br />
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Over an hour had gone by and we hadn't made it a mile. I sat and watched as the engine and transmission temp gages began to climb and Ramblin' began to chug in the heat, eventually dying in the left lane. We knew it was just the heat but something had to be done to resolve this on our own - there was no way AAA was coming to the rescue here. Jay looked at me and said "Switch. There's no way you'll do what I'm about to do". <br />
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So we traded places as the cars idled around us and I flagged the semi next to us that we needed to get over to the right shoulder. The next time the cars moved, he let us over and Jay took it all the way to the shoulder but didn't stop to let her rest. I checked the map and we were only 3 1/2 miles from the next exit so Jay kept it moving on the shoulder, passing maybe a 1000 cars and semi's packed so tightly in desperation to move, no one tried to stop us. But hey, if you saw Ramblin' Fever coming up the shoulder after two hours of mind-numbing traffic, would you have believed it?<br />
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I found us a 10-mile detour that we drove as Ramblin' chugged but improved greatly as the moving air cooled the '92 Magnum under the hood and we jumped back onto I-80 just after the construction zone and purred along as if nothing happened. I waited a moment but, once we were both relaxed again I cranked up "Eastbound and Down" by Jerry Reed and we sang along with smiles on our faces, petting the carpeted dash and praising Ramblin' for being so awesome. <br />
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We were now a few hours behind our goal but still took in the beauty of the sunset behind us as we counted down the miles to our next stop, "Forrest Lodge" in Sparta, New Jersey with our good friends, the Christians.<br />
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At 11:00pm, we rolled into the quiet community and revved the engine one last time before putting Ramblin' to bed for the night. We shared the day's adventures with Joe and Cindy over a beer before joyously heading to bed (in a bed!) for some much needed sleep. We made it!!! And in Jerry Reed's words, "Eastbound and down, loaded up and trucking', we gonna do what they say can't be done"... yep, we did what they said couldn't be done!<br />
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The first mini-adventure of the trip was a success. Oh yeah, and we're only on day 2! <br />
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Stay tuned for more epic stories to come.. riding in NJ, Singlespeed USA antics, the Belt!, New York City, Rock n Roll, and sand dunes, and more riding!<br />
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Awwww, feels so good to finally start telling the story! <br />
Ramblin' On,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-19907652841228793672018-07-10T19:17:00.003-05:002018-07-10T19:17:37.890-05:00Digging out to see the lightIn 2006, I came to the realization that the life I was leading didn't resonate with my soul. I had no idea of who I wanted to be or what I wanted in life yet, but I knew that I was lacking joy and true connection. I made some drastic changes and, some time later, started this blog as a way to celebrate the new journey I was embarking on. I was on a mission to try new things, grow lasting relationships and explore the world around me to identify what truly brought me joy. One of the guidelines I set for myself was to use this blog to bring positive, uplifting stories to light to share my happiness with others (whoever they may be).<br />
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For over a decade, this blog has helped me relive some amazing accomplishments, celebrate dreams coming true, and express my gratitude for the life I had found. But for months now, I have realized that I had major writer's block that was causing this dark vortex to surround me and drag me to a very scary place. I let my self-doubt and procrastination take priority over the simple pleasure of my writing and it came back at me tenfold - by skipping that which brought me such joy for so long, I was missing a significant source to feed the spring and my well was running dry. <br />
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Maybe it was the sale of the cherished company I used to work for to one that I couldn't fall in line with and throw away my morals to work for. Maybe it was the realization that I was on the wrong career path. The stress of a new career and new company? Trying to make a name for myself in cycling after three years of off and on injuries.. only to also come back a few years older? The winter that refused to end? Maybe it isn't so hard to believe (er.. admit) that I was more depressed than I'd been in decades...<br />
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Sure, there were some awesome races, a handful of great finishes, wonderful memories shared with family in friends in the past months, but the shadows still lingered when I sat down to tell the latest adventure, blocking the stories from activating my fingertips. Although summer's intense arrival has lessened the sadness, the shadows still blur my thoughts at times and distort my story. I've experienced some amazing personal bests as of late yet the doubt whispers to me ... 'maybe it was a fluke' ... 'you can't do that again'....'maybe you shouldn't even try'.... <br />
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It's one thing to ride the miles, lift the weights, stretch the muscles. But what do you do when your <i>mind</i> doesn't believe you can do it?<br />
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The only way I can imagine fighting it is to shine a light into the deep wound that refuses to heal up. Maybe by opening the door to the pain I've held so tightly, I can kick it out into the light and begin to move on. <br />
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It works on the Boogeyman, right?<br />
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I have a handful of friends and family who also struggle with their own darkness and depression and I hope they always know I'm here for you.<br />
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And to my husband, Jay, who I've just now realized loves me enough for the both of us... Thank You from the bottom of my heart. Your belief in me may not always chase away the tears, but your unending pursuit is the knight in shining armor this girl has dreamt of.<br />
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Sleeping with the lights on,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-31590105542135169022018-04-15T21:08:00.001-05:002018-04-15T21:15:47.440-05:00Slip Slidin' into Spring ... or maybe it's second winter. Either way, after watching the snow fall for over 36 hours, we couldn't help but rally the troops for a 'spring' urban ride. Lucky for us in MN, the bike paths are among the first paved surfaces to be plowed every snowfall, so we headed to the Greenway to begin our adventure. Sure, why wouldn't my road bike with fenders work for today's ride?<br />
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I should have known this would be quite the feat when we had to help push a motorist or two out of an intersection on our way to our meet spot. We tossed the bikes aside, dug our heals into the 6+ inches of snow in the intersection, and rocked the car forward as our feet sank to the glare ice below and we scrambled for traction as it lurched forward. Mission: Accomplished.<br />
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We found our pals at the Greenway entrance and headed east into the wind as the snow pelted our faces and the ice under the bridges kept our attention sharp. We really didn't have much of a plan before the trail hit West River Road and an audible sent us south towards Minnehaha Falls. Much to our surprise, Sea Salt was open and the typical line around the building was nonexistent. I looked to Dave and said "I thought they weren't open in the winter.??".. He laughed and pointed out "It's not winter". <br />
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We sat along the windows, drinking beers and sharing stories as if we were figures in a snow globe watching the winter bliss entertain us. But it isn't winter.. it's F$%&ing spring! But, hey, we made the most of it! As the snow refused to let up and the chill began to set back in, we knew we had to be back on our way home. <br />
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Riding my road tires was a mistake.. or maybe just early cyclocross practice.. but I fought my bike and the ice and slush for the entire ride. While my friends were smart to bring their CX, Mtn or fat bikes, I found myself hanging out at the back riding the best line I could find. Slipping out on every climb and Tokyo-drifting down every decent kept me on my toes, but I still had a fun time trying to film the awesome, yet less than desirable spring ride. Man, what I wouldn't do for some sun on my shoulders and sweat dripping down my back!<br />
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Holding out for warmer days,<br />
Kristy KremeKristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-35757047257552784082018-01-28T20:32:00.000-06:002018-01-28T20:32:40.771-06:00Recognizing when "toughing it out" is not the right decisionI'm typically the type of person that avoids the doctor as much as possible and believes my body will (eventually) fix itself. Something about this week was different... and extremely unexpected.<div>
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I started a new job last week and was pretty fatigued come Wednesday. I chalked it up to the floods of information coming at me, meetings, trying to find my desk, navigating the halls and learning so many new names. By the time Jay picked me up from work the exhaustion was obvious and I backed out of our fat bike ride during the drive home, opting instead to hit the grocery store and make dinner while he rode. Walking through the grocery isles, a dull ache settled into my stomach which through me off guard. </div>
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Me to self: I guess I've been eating a lot of tangerines and acidic foods lately.. maybe it's just super acidic.</div>
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I returned home with the fixings for some flatbread pesto pizzas with roasted veggies and didn't think much more about it. As the night waned the ache returned but again I made up some idea of the cause (maybe too much garlic now on my pizza) and went to bed. But I found myself unable to sleep for most of the night as the ache grew stronger over the night.</div>
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By morning, the pain hadn't subsided so I took a few Tums as I prepped for work and went about my day. Today was my Getting To Know You lunch with my team and I was so excited to play games and meet everyone. But, with my stomach bothering me so much, I couldn't stomach the idea of eating so I grabbed a banana and plain yogurt to get me through. By the end of the lunch, the pain was increasing noticeably and I started to have an impending feeling that something was wrong.</div>
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I went down to our in-house medical clinic to request an appointment but they were full. When I told the nurse my symptoms, she asked me to go to urgent care. I texted Jay asking him to take me after work but, by the time I made it up three floors I knew I couldn't wait. I called him back and he quickly jumped in the car to pick me up as I paced along the windows of my new desk holding my stomach as it had been swelling beyond belief over the course of the last few hours.</div>
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He took me to Urgent Care and they began taking some tests and palpating my abdomen as I was no longer able to sit still from the increasing pain. After a few tests, they had me on my way to the ER to have my appendix checked. Jay flew down France and through red lights (sorry) as I was dry heaving out the passenger window. They quickly ushered me into Triage when I hobbled in and something about knowing I was going to be safe seemed to break my ability to control my vomiting or my shakes any longer. </div>
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We quickly moved into a room where I could gown-up, hooked up to an IV and monitors, and started donating blood to start narrowing down the likely suspects - Appendix? Gall Bladder? My hubby returned after dropping the puppy at home and my dad, stepmom and stepsister were all by my side as I fought through the pain and nausea. The blood tests came back healthy but, luckily, the CT showed that it was after all my appendix. Thank heavens I followed those instincts so we got there before it burst and there I was, 5 hours after asking Jay to take me in, I was headed off to surgery for a laparoscopic appendectomy. </div>
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My medical team was amazing (thank you tons to Dr. Laguna and the entire team at Southdale Emergency Hospital)!!! By 10:30 my family was allowed back into post-op to see me and the kind nursing team had me dressed and ready to head home to bed. I couldn't believe how quickly they were able to treat and diagnose me and how much worse it could have been. I am so grateful for everyone's help, their recommendations, and to Jay for getting me to the hospital so quickly.</div>
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Now, it's just settling in for a longer-than-I-wish recovery and focusing on a comeback once I can exercise again. For now, guess I just get to heal up and be a super fan for the next few weeks!</div>
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One organ lighter, another adventure survived, </div>
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Kristy Kreme, bloated post-op machine ;)</div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-11785155736269828982017-09-26T08:43:00.002-05:002017-09-26T08:43:48.994-05:00Oh, to dream just a while longer...<div class="MsoNormal">
I am often a vivid dreamer but something about last night will stick with me forever....<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a warm fall day and Jay, Ben Miller, and Christopher Cross and I were in the woods collecting logs for a fire. We made our way into a clearing filled with waste-high prairie grass towards a set of railroad tracks. One by one we crawled on top of a wooden pump trolley, prepared to depart to our bonfire destination. </div>
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The sun was warm and I looked around to find Jay manning the pump, Ben was sitting on the back, dangling his feet over the edge. I looked to the front to find Christopher standing and looking down the railroad tracks and, to my surprise, sitting between us was Dave Pike. <o:p></o:p></div>
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He had on a light button up shirt, jeans, tennies, and was sitting with his hands casually resting on his bent knees. His face was clean-shaven and he looked at me and smiled as the sun lit up his face more than anything around him. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I quickly knelt and pulled him into my arms and told him how great it was to see him. He didn’t say much, but we all circled around him with joy and huge smiles on our faces. There was an unspoken word between us as if we didn’t want to acknowledge that he shouldn’t be there for fear that he would leave, while at the same time Dave gave off this feeling that he’d just stopped by to say hello.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He continued on the trolley with us to our destination and helped unload the logs into the pile that would become our fire. I don’t remember all that we were talking about with Dave, likely sharing stories but there was something he had to do – he said he had to check on his girl and we told him he should get to it before it gets too late. (I wonder if he visited Tracie last night too)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I woke out of my sleep and had to grasp where I was (stupid chamomile tea before bed making me have to pee!). When I returned to bed, I fought with myself on whether or not to go back to sleep. Would I fall back into the same dream? Or would I fall asleep and forget the dream I just had forever?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I stayed awake for a little while, trying to burn the memory of discovering Dave sitting on the trolley into my brain so I could revel on it later. It was so peaceful and warm and everything we would have done together in real life (except maybe the pump trolley)… and I feel so blessed that he visited my dream to say hi.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I miss you, buddy. And I love you like a brother. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-16412217325114831932017-08-18T20:31:00.000-05:002017-08-18T20:32:08.190-05:00The Art of Falling DownThe true art of falling down is in how you get back up. As a human Albatros, I've had a lot of scraped knees and cut hands from hitting the deck, but I've always picked my self up, dusted off, and got back to living. But this year, each impact with the ground challenged me physically and mentally but also challenged my creativity.<br />
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As the 2017 pole competition season began, I was preparing to create one last competition routine and to push every one of my boundaries with my choreography. Again, Albatros.. NOT delicate, flowy, or graceful. But, rather than being a creepy, dark and twisted thing, this year I was going to be pretty, fun, light, sexy, entertaining and everything I'm too shy to be when I pole. I bought a hot pink umbrella, a polka dot Lucy dress, pulled out my 5" heels and began choreographing to "Singing' in the Rain". Lucky for me, the amazingly talented Freaky cut my song with some wicked sound effects to transition into "Thunderstruck" for the 2nd half of my routine!!! The man RULES!<br />
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With the help of some awesome coaches, Jamie and Emily, teammates and hubby, my choreo was set pretty quickly so the pressure started to subside. Until I fell down.<br />
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We were up at the Fat Bike Birkie, likely the coldest one yet, getting fired up for the Friday night Fat Bike crit. The course was frozen solid and covered in ice even after the trail crew tried to break it up with a beast of a machine. Mixed in with the men, I was just riding as hard as I could to stay warm and get it over with. During one turn, my studded front wheel lost control and I augured onto the icy ground left knee first. I got up with no air in my lungs and tried to walk a few steps to avoid being hit from behind but found each step excruciating.<br />
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The pain was fierce and walking was not going to work. I got back on my bike hoping to 'spin it out' but any movement of the joint was agony. I pedaled by using only my right leg for most of the remaining laps until I could passively rest my left heel on the pedal and moving the joint without pressure til I finally made it through the final lap. Although my snow pants survived, I later found that my leg warmer was trashed and the wet feeling in my knee was blood. <br />
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Weeks later, the swelling and discoloration subsided, but the whole front of my knee was numb (6 months later = still numb). Practicing my run throughs was a challenge and some of my floor choreography now had to go because any time on my knees was more painful than I could bear. Routine #2 began. Some time passed, I was sure I was ready to go... then I pulled my left hamstring. No more splits. Routine #3, commence. <br />
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I wasn't in love Routine 3, but I was willing to run with it. But, just weeks before we were to go to competition, I fell down again. Crashed out during a Tuesday night crit, I was hit from behind by another racer who rode me like a surfboard down the fairground streets, leaving more than 8 pts of road rash down the side of my body. But I got up, Jay got my bike back in order, I gagged when I looked at my meaty elbow, but I got back in the race.<br />
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When I got back to the dance studio, I ran through my routine, found which parts I needed to change yet again due to my injuries, and added in just some things for me. This was to be by competition finale.. it better be fun! Truth in advertising... I was still terrified to fail. The night before we were to hit the road for CPC, my confidence was faulty and I finally broke down. Was the 4 minutes on stage going to be the finale I was hoping for? Could I do it? What if I failed?<br />
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But, the next morning, we packed up and headed east to Chicago. I competed in Championship (judged on all-around tricks, flow, and presentation) and Entertainment (based on character and presentation).. and I placed in both! Oh, yeah, and I fell down in the middle of my routine during my 2nd performance. Damn ankle strap of my heels broke and I fell to my knees on stage. But, I got back up and kept on going (all while hyper aware of the loose shoe now barely attached to my foot).<br />
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I finished 2nd in Championship and 3rd in Entertainment and am so proud to have challenged all the things I'm too shy to do, had fun, created something I'm proud of, and went out with a bang!<br />
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So, without further ado... here's the final video thanks to Alloy Images!</div>
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Not only was I the only goof ball cruising around town to two pink umbrellas (needed a back up) with pin-up style make up and hair, but I pulled of being cute and sweet. I called her Penny.<br />
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I threw in my favorite tricks or little homages to people I love like a Pike D for our friend Dave Pike who passed away just before Christmas. (miss you, Buddy) <3 p=""><br /></3></div>
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My favorite static hold.</div>
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But then Penny turned into Stella.. and she was fun to be!<br />
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I am so grateful for all of the help, support, love and Tegaderm that got me through this last pole competition season. Jenna and Margaret - thank you for making me wear heals! Jamie, Emily, and Emma - coaches like you help lil monsters like me put something together worth watching! Angela, thank you for watching me fumble night after night. My friends and family - thank you for all your support. And Jay, thanks for always helping pick me back up and getting me back on my bike without questioning if I should. </div>
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As long as I continue to get back up, I haven't yet failed...</div>
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Kristy</div>
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-42936509210947848922017-03-07T20:23:00.002-06:002017-03-07T20:28:12.484-06:00Coming Home...<div class="MsoNormal">
Taxiing along the runway in Cleveland, heading for MN by way of Chicago, in the smallest plane I’ve ever been in to end 4 days working a tradeshow hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d been home sick all week, but the accumulation of insomnia and missing my husband rolled like thunder in my chest as we prepared for take-off. Lucky for me, it was so small, there was only one-seat wide on the left side of the plane, so I was solo in my sorrow as both the window and the aisle seat. I gazed out the window over the wing to hide the tears that fell down my cheeks in slow motion.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It had only been four days. But it felt as though I’ve been living someone else’s life, longing to return to my own. I cried a little more as I fantasized about seeing Jay that night as Bob Dylan filled my ears …. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I should have left this town this morning, but it was more than I could do.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ah your love comes on so strong, and I’ve waited all day long<o:p></o:p></div>
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For tonight I’ll be staying here with you”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Staring at the rainbow sky that prepared for the pending shadows of twilight was a quiet relief as I silent-cried out my window, thinking of running across the room for a tearful embrace. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Its these echoes of myself that I filed away as I tried to conduct business all week but, in secret, screamed loudly as I contemplated what I want to be when I ‘grow up’. It’s not the typical story I tell, but the time alone, quietly in conference with myself and my heart, truly made me reflect on what happiness is to me… and where I wish the next adventure would take me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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…. I want to be home.</div>
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As turbulent air disturbed the mundane vibrations of the plane, I thought about our wedding vows, and I’ve never felt more passionate about them…<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I promise to always come home to you, and to always be there when you come home”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Once on the ground in MN, I sped to the taxi booth to hail a cab downtown. The driver couldn't have gone fast enough to ease my unrest, and I was quick to jump out in a small parking lot once we made it within a block of the cycling year end party that I had missed. Scantily-clad women climbed out of cars by the handful, barely dress for a MN winter, but who was I to care.. I was here. My roller bag echoed through the alley behind One on One and familiar signs of life meant there was still people here.</div>
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Mojo was first to greet me and let me into the rented space and I quickly found a welcome embrace with Kadence. Friendly faces still lingered in the room, but the party was clearly over. My heart exploded when I saw the smile on Jay's face as he quickly bounded over to me, kissing me on the dark stairs and refusing to let me go. </div>
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It was everything I needed.</div>
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Kind hugs and high-fives quickly followed as I greeted my friends and listened to stories of the party missed. By midnight, we were on our way home and ready to snuggle on the couch with the puppy. It was the perfect ending to a long week and a great reminder of the amazing life that I have, always here ready to welcome me home.</div>
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Road-worn and weary, </div>
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Kristy Kreme<br />
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Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664403849935058545.post-49532528212920117342016-09-08T18:50:00.000-05:002016-09-08T19:51:28.651-05:00Pole 2016 - Creating a PsychoIt has come to my realization that, during times of prolonged stress, I put aside the things that bring me joy.. riding, creating, writing.. But, in truth, those are the things I should make more space for when I'm struggling to smile. We should spend MORE time in with these things to remind ourselves that the struggle, stress, and depression are just a small part of the world we live in. So, with that in mind, I'm challenging myself to make that time for myself to do that which I love.<br />
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With that being said, I've finally carved out these moments to tell the story of my Psycho. From dream to reality...<br />
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In June of last year, I heard the song "Psycho" by Muse on the radio and was instantly obsessed. My first thought was "I will create a pole routine to this!". Shortly after, I received an invite to perform on stage with the first ever Dolls on Parade at Mill City Nights in Downtown Mpls. A paid gig! Are you shitting me? Of course, I screamed YES and began the preparation. <br />
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As part of my process, I printed off the lyrics and began scribbling down my ideas. What tricks do I love? Which ones am I close to getting, want to learn, fit the part, match the lyrics? Pages and pages of scribbles, costumes and make-up saved on Pinterest, scouring YouTube videos for inspiration from other pole, ballet, and contemporary dancers. Lucky for me, my dear friend Freaky is an AMAZING musician and tech genius and helped me cut the 5 minute song to just the length I needed (plus helped me cut all the 'fucks' out per comp guidelines)!<br />
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Come December, I began working on my choreography, training with the amazing Jamie Wagner and Abbey Eff.. two of my biggest inspirations and two amazing coaches I'm blessed to train with. When it was finally time for the February 2016 show, I was nervous, excited, and so stoked to show an audience of 400+ what I'd created. <br />
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It was the most fearful I've been on stage yet. Lucky for me, my straight jacket-wearing lil Psycho was twitchy and weird, so the hand tremors were lost in the dimly lit stage. I hit all my tricks and musical cues. I creeped a few people out as I crawled to the edge of the stage as the music waned. It was a success! <br />
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Photos thanks to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LionsManePhotography/" target="_blank">Lions Mane Photography</a>!</div>
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My body, all bruised and sore from months of training, needed a brief break following the show, but I wasn't worried since we still had months before competition. <br />
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After a couple weeks, I was back in the studio, working on fine tuning the Psycho I'd created. She never had a name, but she was never innocent. The story, stuck in a psych ward, shackled in a straight jacket, she fought off the memories of the monster that created the killer she was. Until she broke free...<br />
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Before we made it to competition at the Central Pole Championships in Chicago over Memorial Day weekend, we held three shows at our studio to prep the team for the stage. In each show, I forced myself to try something new. A new facial expression, hand movement or twitch of the foot. Each show was different, but all amazing in their own right. I was enjoying each moment of sharing my Psycho with the crowd, playing to the beat, PERFORMING. It was exhilarating! <br />
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One of the greatest things that came from the Showcase performances was the feedback I received from our mock judges and my friends who came out to support us. The biggest feedback I received was the power of my character, but most got a feeling of a zombie or a vampire... not at all who I intended her to be. Looking at the photos, I see what they saw.</div>
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So, with just weeks to go and my routine done, I switch to three weeks straight of character practise. I would sit for an hour with my headphones in, the song blasting in my ears, staring at myself in the mirror and make faces to each moment or lyric. I watched The Shining, studied Heath Ledger in Batman - Dark Knight.. I practiced my facial expressions in the car (probably creating utter fear in the drivers near me).. all in an attempt to recreate her before the big day.</div>
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Then, finally, it was here: CPC 2016. But for some reason, I still wanted more. The night before comp began, Jay, Doreen, Itly and I went to dinner and talked about the competition to come. Something Jay said to Itly (a first-timer) struck me.. "the audience isn't listening to each word of the song to see how you translate it"... and there it was. There was one part of my routine that just didn't feel 100% natural to me because I was trying so hard to interpret the lyrics. It was then that I decided that, during my performance, I was going to do something I am terrified to do even when alone... I was going to freestyle.</div>
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Sunday morning came fast, but I was calm as I ratted my hair beyond repair and blacked out my eyes. Everything was packed, my headphones were on, and I said my goodbyes to Jay as I rode my bike from the hotel to the theater where I was set to perform. "Don't change anything" he said.. I didn't listen.</div>
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Once I stepped behind the curtain a handful of minutes before performing, I caked myself in grip aide in some desperate attempt to stop sweating. But I was ready. I knew in my heart this was the last time me and my Psycho would come out to play. The field of women I was competing against was fierce, and I just wanted to entertain the audience if nothing else. I knew they were talented and strong, so I resolved myself to have the most fun I possibly could have on stage. After eight months of planning for the 4 minutes I'd have on stage, I knew that if I achieved that goal of having the best time ever, it didn't matter where I placed. </div>
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Here's the performance:</div>
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I did it... I had the most fun I'd ever had on stage! I played, I freestyled, I made all my faces and creepy hands I'd practiced. I'd crushed my goal and couldn't have been happier! </div>
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Afterwards, we headed straight for food. Starving and exhausted, we saddled up at a local restaurant with Jay, my coach Jamie, and teammates Doreen and Margie. Sometime during the meal, Jamie leaned over and asked if I wanted to know my results. I really didn't. But, judging by the twinkle in her eye, I knew I had to look at the picture that lingered on the screen of her phone. </div>
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2nd place! 2nd place in the Senior Level 3 division! What the? How the? I cried immediately... Yes, I cried.. but after 8 months and endless hours of preparation to achieve something you believed impossible, I didn't have any strength left to pretend it wasn't the greatest news I could have received. Part of me was sad for it to be all over (and kinda hard to stop the facial expressions for a few weeks), but the other part of me was just so overjoyed with what I accomplished against my own doubts, the great performances by my entire team (who friggin dominated the stage!), not to mention all the fun that was had.</div>
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Of course, the greatest joy at looking back at this journey is holding my pride in myself close to heart as well as the gratitude for everyone who helped me get there. My Dad and step mom, who came to see me perform for the first time during this prep - your support means more than you will ever know. My mom, who cheered me on and spent her time caring for our lil fur baby as we ventured off to Chicago - thank you for being such a huge fan and super fur-grammy! My team for helping provide feedback as I created my Psycho.. I couldn't have done it without you! Abbey, for helping me explore my own weirdness, I will forever cherish all that you taught me and all the ways you inspire me! Jamie... don't ever leave me! You see right through my fears and hesitation and challenge me to be better. Thank you for everything.</div>
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And Jay, my sweet, never faltering, never wavering, supportive beyond all things husband.. your love is a constant shield trying to protect me from myself. Your hugs make all things better. And celebrating with you is the greatest joy in life! </div>
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So happy to have moments like these to reminisce on,</div>
Kristy "Once a Psycho" Kreme<br />
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<span id="goog_240126148"></span><span id="goog_240126149"></span><br />Kristy Kremehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05929911578465218119noreply@blogger.com1