The Air Up Here
I have been in Whistler, B.C. since Friday, July 8. This was the second production shoot for my film, Commit to the Line. As part of the film, I spent two days after the camp finished taking private lessons with Daamiann Skelton, perhaps the greatest mountain biker of all time, certainly the greatest instructor I've ever known and just an amazing person.
I was so frightened the day before the lessons were to begin. I still struggle so much with fear and it's a kind of fear that is not easily defined or pinned down to a specific event or potential event. Anyway, I was terrified and incredibly anxious on Sunday night.
Monday morning arrived and I found myself still quite fearful and anxious. Once the lessons began, however, the fear quickly dissipated and adrenaline took over. It felt so good. My friend, Sarah, started out by operating the camera as my camera person had to leave for a family emergency. Soon, however, I told her to ditch the camera and just do the lessons with me.
We started off in the grassy park, just like all the Spokeswomen camps do -- practicing in a soft, safe place. We learned front wheel lifts and manuals and then, much to my surprise and utter delight, I lifted my rear wheel off the ground. I did it more than once. I never thought that I could possibly learn to do a rear wheel lift. But, I did. Two years ago at this time, I was recovering from a second abdominal surgery and preparing my mind for radiation therapy.
We took the lift up to a skills area where both Sarah and I successfully launched our bikes off little wooden drops. Again, I was engulfed by sheer delight and incredible, overwhelming emotion. Tears fill my eyes now.
DAY 2, Part I - Tuesday
I have always wanted to learn how to jump on my bike. Air. I wanted air. We began our day with this goal in mind. My camera person had returned and so Sarah and I, joined by Sarah's husband, John, all looked to Daamiann to teach us to get some air.
We began in the jump park--a cool area with several series of jumps. Daamo taught us to roll the jumps first and then showed the technique we would eventually use to launch over jumps. Then, we all headed to the jump zone on the mountain via the chair lift.
DAY 2, Part II - The People Who Are No Longer Here
We arrived at the jump area that has 4 differently sized jumps. Daamo told us that we would be working on the second jump (first is the smallest). She showed us how to roll over the jump using the skills that we had been practicing at the mountain's base in the jump park. We all rolled over the jump. Then, Daamo told us all to add a little "pop" so that our front wheels would leave the ground. She showed us how and we all did it. Once we all had flow with that and were executing it repeatedly with success, Daamo told us to really "pop" it and then, while in the air, bring the rear wheel up behind us to land further forward on the other side of the jump. She again showed us how.
I was ready to get some air. All morning I had been thinking of K.C., Susan and Florence, the three that cancer took from me and the group during my time in the Wellness Community. I pushed my bike to the top of the hill leading to the jump and the camera followed me. I reached the top, a bit out of breath from pushing the heavy downhill bike up the hill. I turned to the camera, "I have to say something," I puffed. "This is for K.C., Susan and Florence."
I turned to the jump and pushed off. My pedals were level as I stood on them and I let up on the brakes as I neared the jump. I leaned over my handlebars and "popped" as my front wheel left the lip. I felt myself in the air and pulled my rear wheel up and over. I landed smoothly on both wheels at the other side of the jump. I rolled over to Daamiann and Sarah who had been watching and cheering. I bent my head and the tears started flowing. I cried and I cried some more with a few sobs punctuating the flowing tears. I have to do everything that calls to me and take my life and cherish it--do the things that I need to do, that make me feel good and full. I hope that somewhere, somehow and in some way, K.C., Susan and Florence know and are smiling.
I jumped the bike over and over, finding great success each time and feeling the presence of three wonderful people in my heart that are no longer physically here. Sometimes I feel so angry about everything that cancer took from me, but other times I realize what it gave to me.
I still have tears -- they are streaming down my face now as I write this. You might wonder how jumping a bike could cause such intensity of emotion--but, if you wonder that, I am not entirely sure that I can explain it.
Live. Be free. Face fear. Love.