The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.

If you have lost someone in your life, I offer these words and verse (some Kristy's, some mine and others) with the hope it may touch your heart and help you heal.
mailto:clarksonart@gmail.com


Thursday, January 8, 2009

FIRST IMPRESSIONS


This letter was written by a competing bicyclist who met Kristy for the first time in 2008 during a race.

I'll never forget the first time I saw Kristy this season; it was at Cantua Creek, my first race of the year. Quiet, reserved, focused, she sat calmly on her bike while we all chatted and joked around, as the field for Cat 4 women was pretty small that day. Some of the women were asking each other who she was, where she came from, and someone knew & mentioned she was a professional triathlete. We had fun that first windy lap, and Kristy hung in there with us long enough to rotate through the pace line up to the turn around.

After that, she must have finally been bored with the pace AND the talking, because as we approached the first of two turn arounds, in one dramatic turn of the wheels, she was GONE. And I mean, "see you later, I'm outta here, gone." My team mate yelled out jokingly, "hey, where does she think she's going?" And we all laughed, knowing that we'd just been witness to something pretty spectacular. Later, she competed against us at Cherry Pie, and I saw her again at Snelling.

The last time I saw Kristy was bright and early Saturday, the morning of Menlo Park Grand Prix. I did the medical team support for the day and was unloading my medical supplies. She rolled by on her bike and looked straight at me; I said hi, she said hi and had that look on her face like, "how do I know you?" And that was it.

She probably didn't remember it was me, to her immediate left on the pace line that morning at Cantua Creek, singing the first few versus of the Italian song, Ave Maria. But I do. I'll never forget that, or forget her.

My heart aches for her mother and father, as I have an adult son that I cherish with all of my being. I offer you and your family my deepest compassion for your loss and grief.

Katherine Hamilton, RN MFTCode Three Racing

1 comment:

  1. You are very brave. I did not know Kristy,and only heard of her fall from others. It hit me hard too as I have a daughter doing just as she did-riding with passion!
    I pray you find peace in running-it does work, although it is hard. Isn't life? Remember the best times and cherish the times you had together. She will never die until you join her. Best of tmes to you and your family. Richard

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