I hate to be such a downer in only my third post, but I just found out today that a friend of ours from Calgary was murdered last month. We were in the midst of moving to Victoria at the time of his disappearance and death, so we had no idea what happened until now.
Marty raced on the same cycling team as Brian ('BK') for a few years. Initially, I just knew him as the guy with the souped-up bike (he always had all the latest and best parts for his bikes), but eventually, I came to know him better as the man with an unlimited supply of really big hugs (the kind that squeeze the breath out of you!) We had a nice long conversation in Edmonton last year, after he had completed a particularly challenging cyclo-cross race, and it was then that I came to appreciate his nuances a little bit more. He had been bumped really early on in the race, and he was lapped not so long afterward, but he stuck it through and finished the race. At the time, I thought he was a clown for waving cheerfully to the commissaires with each passing lap, but looking at it now, it must have taken an immense amount of courage for him to even finish the race, let alone to not take himself-- or the race-- too seriously. (I would have been the one who either gave up right away, faked a flat tire and then gave up, or finished the damn race with knotted brows, clenched teeth, and a super bad attitude. That's probably why I don't cycle... First place or bust!)
Anyway, I'm thankful that I was able to share some time with him, even though our times together make it that much harder to accept his death. It's not much of a tribute, I know, but BK: rest in peace, good soul.
Take care, everyone.