Let me be a little kinder,
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me,
Let me praise a little more.
Let me be, when I am weary,
Just a little bit more cheery,
Think a little more of others,
And a little less of me.
Let me be a little braver
When temptation makes me waver
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be
Let me be a little meeker
With my brother who is weaker,
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me.
Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery,
Let me serve a little better
Those that I am strivin' for
Let me be a little meeker
With the brother who is weaker
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Sunday, November 07, 2010
CREEPING UP ON ME
I already spend too much time on the Internet. But I've got major things to blog about. One is SavageMan, which was, what, 6 or 7 weeks ago now? And no race report? Even though I keep alluding so something life-changing? Honest, I'm not leading you on. It just seems so big to blog about that it's overwhelming. Here are pictures, though...
AND.... Last week I had the wonderful opportunity to stomp another state on the Appalachian Trail, starting at Harpers Ferry, WV and hiking through Maryland to the Mason-Dixon Line with a new hiking friend. Four days, 45 miles, on the AT and I haven't written a trip report!!!
Nope, bogged down here in my head with "How Going to Church Both Aggravates and Assuages My Fear of Mistakes."
Maybe it's time to move on (or back) to real life. Triathlons and backpacking, biking, running, all that stuff. Or at least the memories of them.
AND.... Last week I had the wonderful opportunity to stomp another state on the Appalachian Trail, starting at Harpers Ferry, WV and hiking through Maryland to the Mason-Dixon Line with a new hiking friend. Four days, 45 miles, on the AT and I haven't written a trip report!!!
Nope, bogged down here in my head with "How Going to Church Both Aggravates and Assuages My Fear of Mistakes."
Maybe it's time to move on (or back) to real life. Triathlons and backpacking, biking, running, all that stuff. Or at least the memories of them.
STARTOVERS AND MAKEOVERS
Again in church today, affirmation of my not making such a big-headed deal out of goofing up. The lady who led prayer asked for guidance for the day's preacher, who "says he gets nervous because it's been awhile since he's been in the pulpit." Hmm... I never thought to ask for prayer about my getting nervous becayse it's been awhile since I've sat at a piano. I should have thought of that, asking for prayer.
Anyway.... I keep getting these little lessons that I'm not the only goofer-upper around. And thank you, to the couple of readers who have assured me of the same thing. Maybe it comes from having been raised by stage-performing musician parents: When you get up there to perform, you better know what you're doing. But I'm not performing. I'm.... well, participating. Offering. Helping. Just sort of doing. I'm not the star. I'm a participant. We're all in it together. I need to remember that.
I started running again today. I've run only a couple times since SavageMan, having sort of lost interest in running altogether -- my SavageMan "run" was soooo baaaadddd. (I still haven't told the story of that run.) So today I went out for half an hour, including a few sprints of 30 seconds or so. I'm looking ahead to improving my endurance for next year's SavageMan. I want no repeat of this year's dead-woman crawl!!!
The final makeover to report on is my mother's kitchen. Why didn't I think of a "Before" picture? I guess because at first it seemed like just painting. It's become a real project. New drawer/door hardware. New paint. Gonna be pretty when I put the doors back on. Then I'll have to do the walls. I'm a newbie at this. Never opened a paint can before. Yesterday I spilled most of the gallon can on the floor. I shouted a bad word and then started scooping it back into the can with a dustpan. Today I figured out I can strain out the pet hair and dust it picked up on the floor and use the paint after all. The learning continues.
Anyway.... I keep getting these little lessons that I'm not the only goofer-upper around. And thank you, to the couple of readers who have assured me of the same thing. Maybe it comes from having been raised by stage-performing musician parents: When you get up there to perform, you better know what you're doing. But I'm not performing. I'm.... well, participating. Offering. Helping. Just sort of doing. I'm not the star. I'm a participant. We're all in it together. I need to remember that.
I started running again today. I've run only a couple times since SavageMan, having sort of lost interest in running altogether -- my SavageMan "run" was soooo baaaadddd. (I still haven't told the story of that run.) So today I went out for half an hour, including a few sprints of 30 seconds or so. I'm looking ahead to improving my endurance for next year's SavageMan. I want no repeat of this year's dead-woman crawl!!!
The final makeover to report on is my mother's kitchen. Why didn't I think of a "Before" picture? I guess because at first it seemed like just painting. It's become a real project. New drawer/door hardware. New paint. Gonna be pretty when I put the doors back on. Then I'll have to do the walls. I'm a newbie at this. Never opened a paint can before. Yesterday I spilled most of the gallon can on the floor. I shouted a bad word and then started scooping it back into the can with a dustpan. Today I figured out I can strain out the pet hair and dust it picked up on the floor and use the paint after all. The learning continues.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
MISTAKES PROBABLY AREN'T SUCH A BIG THING
A few posts ago I wrote about being the pianist for an upcoming wedding, and being afraid of goofing up. As a matter of fact, I did goof up. During the wedding march. Ouch.
I've been pinch-hitting on the piano at church lately, since our regular pianist has been ill. I'm out of practice and keep hitting clinkers. I look at my hands and lose my place on the page. I look at the notes and lose my place on the keyboard. I feel embarrassed. I wonder if people are thinking, "Ouch."
There's this gentleman, Mark is his name, who often preaches. He's not an ordained minister. He went to seminary for awhile but then suffered an illness, some kind of infection, that caused massive brain damage. Mark has recovered slowly and spectacularly. He drags one foot a little when he walks, and his speech is a little slow and a little slurred, but understandable. He was never able to fnish his ministerial studies, but he pores over his Bible and he prays and he preaches. He sometimes stammers and has trouble getting words out. He loses his place on the page and is silent for several moments recovering it. He reads from the Bible, tangles the words up, and says, "I need to start over," and he does.
His messages are profound. Twice today I wrote in the margin in my Bible what Mark had just said about a verse, and added "BINGO!!" (I'd like to see my descendants when they get their hands on Great-Great-Grandma's Bible and read that!)
What I'm seeing, what hit me as he was delivering what God had laid on his heart, is that.... the mistakes don't matter. Mark has trouble with words and with concentration and with connecting thoughts, but connect them he does, in the most profound and striking manner. Anyone who hears him would understand immediately that he has difficulty and doesn't let it hold him back. It's plainly evident that he's an extremely deep thinker and excellent speaker and devout Christian. No one gets impatient or thinks "Ouch!" or has any response except to what he's actually saying.
So when I hit wrong notes..... it's the same. So I have trouble keeping it coordinated. So I've never been able to learn to put music in front of me and read it right off as I do written words. Anyone listening can tell that I do play the piano, I have a feel for music, I just have trouble delivering it, and despite the mistakes I'm giving it all I've got.
And when I make mistakes in life...... same thing. I know how it should go, I just hit some wrong notes. Just like anyone else. I'm not so special that I don't make mistakes.... and not special because I do. Most goofs really don't matter that much.
I've been pinch-hitting on the piano at church lately, since our regular pianist has been ill. I'm out of practice and keep hitting clinkers. I look at my hands and lose my place on the page. I look at the notes and lose my place on the keyboard. I feel embarrassed. I wonder if people are thinking, "Ouch."
There's this gentleman, Mark is his name, who often preaches. He's not an ordained minister. He went to seminary for awhile but then suffered an illness, some kind of infection, that caused massive brain damage. Mark has recovered slowly and spectacularly. He drags one foot a little when he walks, and his speech is a little slow and a little slurred, but understandable. He was never able to fnish his ministerial studies, but he pores over his Bible and he prays and he preaches. He sometimes stammers and has trouble getting words out. He loses his place on the page and is silent for several moments recovering it. He reads from the Bible, tangles the words up, and says, "I need to start over," and he does.
His messages are profound. Twice today I wrote in the margin in my Bible what Mark had just said about a verse, and added "BINGO!!" (I'd like to see my descendants when they get their hands on Great-Great-Grandma's Bible and read that!)
What I'm seeing, what hit me as he was delivering what God had laid on his heart, is that.... the mistakes don't matter. Mark has trouble with words and with concentration and with connecting thoughts, but connect them he does, in the most profound and striking manner. Anyone who hears him would understand immediately that he has difficulty and doesn't let it hold him back. It's plainly evident that he's an extremely deep thinker and excellent speaker and devout Christian. No one gets impatient or thinks "Ouch!" or has any response except to what he's actually saying.
So when I hit wrong notes..... it's the same. So I have trouble keeping it coordinated. So I've never been able to learn to put music in front of me and read it right off as I do written words. Anyone listening can tell that I do play the piano, I have a feel for music, I just have trouble delivering it, and despite the mistakes I'm giving it all I've got.
And when I make mistakes in life...... same thing. I know how it should go, I just hit some wrong notes. Just like anyone else. I'm not so special that I don't make mistakes.... and not special because I do. Most goofs really don't matter that much.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
ABOUT TRIBUTES AND FUNERALS
The things on my mind today are about dying.
Someone we knew, a man our age, died this week. We went to his viewing today. There were HUNDREDS of people there and it was only one of four viewing times. He was well-known and well-liked. Actually, he was one of our county commissioners, on the ballot for re-election in the upcoming mid-term a little more than a week away, had won the primary..... but he would have been well-known and well-liked even if he hadn't been commissioner. He was commissioner BECAUSE he was well-known and well-liked.
Anyway, I was seeing all those visitors, and hearing what people were saying to each other about how well they'd liked Denny. I remembered a memorial tribute I'd heard last month after a friend of my mother's died. And I'm thinking....... the people who died aren't here to see how many people come, or hear the nice things that are said about how much they were valued.
Why don't we say those things to people while they're alive? Why don't we have a party, so everyone who knows them and likes them can come?
Maybe there's somehow less risk in saying the nice things after someone has died. We don't have to risk awkwardness.... "You, know, Denny, you're a really great guy, a really good egg. It's a privilege to know you. Whenever you say you'll see to something, I know it's as good as done. You're a man to appreciate." How do you respond to something like that? How do you say it? Why is it easier to say it after the appreciated person is gone?
My mother is turning 90 in April. I'm throwing a shinding and advertising it in the paper. Also in April, my husband is turning 60, but he says he doesn't want a shindig, just our kids and grandkids.
Back to the viewing....among the hundreds of people at the funeral parlor were many that we've known for years and years, as well as many we both felt we should know but couldn't place. We knew them in some long-ago context and now we were out of that context and we've changed and they've changed and it was like maybe remembering someone from a previous life. A woman walked past. She saw me and did a double take. I did a double take. We both said, "HIIIIIII!!!!! How nice to SEE you!! It's been probably 20 years!!" We embraced. I have no idea who she was. She didn't say my name so I suspect she couldn't remember who I was either.
I have a proposal: At my funeral, and at any I'm in charge of before then, like my mother's, I want to have, beside any door where people might be coming in, a box of those name stickers that say, "Hello! I'm......" and pens so that people can write their names and slap them on. Along with a sign reminding everyone to use the stickers, and to include on them how they know the deceased and/or family. It would help everyone. "Hello! I'm Ellie Hamilton.... longtime friend, kids the same ages." "Hello! I'm Clamity Jane, Bill's cousin." You could walk right up to strangers who share your shock, sadness, and memories and call them by name and know who they are and have the ice already broken. Someone you should know, about whom you'd draw a blank, has a name tag and you know immediately, "Of course!!" No awkward moments. It would help family members greet all the visitors: My husband and grown children would have no idea who some of the people are who might come to my funeral. Cheat-sheet name stickers would help them out a lot.
I'm starting a new trend in funeral etiquette, right here, right now. Name stickers.
Someone we knew, a man our age, died this week. We went to his viewing today. There were HUNDREDS of people there and it was only one of four viewing times. He was well-known and well-liked. Actually, he was one of our county commissioners, on the ballot for re-election in the upcoming mid-term a little more than a week away, had won the primary..... but he would have been well-known and well-liked even if he hadn't been commissioner. He was commissioner BECAUSE he was well-known and well-liked.
Anyway, I was seeing all those visitors, and hearing what people were saying to each other about how well they'd liked Denny. I remembered a memorial tribute I'd heard last month after a friend of my mother's died. And I'm thinking....... the people who died aren't here to see how many people come, or hear the nice things that are said about how much they were valued.
Why don't we say those things to people while they're alive? Why don't we have a party, so everyone who knows them and likes them can come?
Maybe there's somehow less risk in saying the nice things after someone has died. We don't have to risk awkwardness.... "You, know, Denny, you're a really great guy, a really good egg. It's a privilege to know you. Whenever you say you'll see to something, I know it's as good as done. You're a man to appreciate." How do you respond to something like that? How do you say it? Why is it easier to say it after the appreciated person is gone?
My mother is turning 90 in April. I'm throwing a shinding and advertising it in the paper. Also in April, my husband is turning 60, but he says he doesn't want a shindig, just our kids and grandkids.
Back to the viewing....among the hundreds of people at the funeral parlor were many that we've known for years and years, as well as many we both felt we should know but couldn't place. We knew them in some long-ago context and now we were out of that context and we've changed and they've changed and it was like maybe remembering someone from a previous life. A woman walked past. She saw me and did a double take. I did a double take. We both said, "HIIIIIII!!!!! How nice to SEE you!! It's been probably 20 years!!" We embraced. I have no idea who she was. She didn't say my name so I suspect she couldn't remember who I was either.
I have a proposal: At my funeral, and at any I'm in charge of before then, like my mother's, I want to have, beside any door where people might be coming in, a box of those name stickers that say, "Hello! I'm......" and pens so that people can write their names and slap them on. Along with a sign reminding everyone to use the stickers, and to include on them how they know the deceased and/or family. It would help everyone. "Hello! I'm Ellie Hamilton.... longtime friend, kids the same ages." "Hello! I'm Clamity Jane, Bill's cousin." You could walk right up to strangers who share your shock, sadness, and memories and call them by name and know who they are and have the ice already broken. Someone you should know, about whom you'd draw a blank, has a name tag and you know immediately, "Of course!!" No awkward moments. It would help family members greet all the visitors: My husband and grown children would have no idea who some of the people are who might come to my funeral. Cheat-sheet name stickers would help them out a lot.
I'm starting a new trend in funeral etiquette, right here, right now. Name stickers.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
I'M GOING HIKING!!
Next week. On the AT. Starting Tuesday. With my friend Chrissie. For probably 5 days. After we get back I'll tell you where we went.... not telling now b/c my blog is public and I'm picky about who knows where we're going, since it's not busy-busy thru-hiker season.
I'm so excited! I'm getting everything ready and having so much fun. I'm no more organized than I was when planning my thru-hike, but at least I feel I know what I'm doing. It's just a matter of putting together the right stuff.
Weather is supposed to be really good, with daytime highs ranging from 50's-70'sF, nighttime lows 40's-50's. I'm going to be test-driving the Hennessy Hammock I bought this past spring. It's tricky to stay warm in them under about 65*F, so I'll be working on that problem. If I'm cold, well, I can always just put it on the ground, or just sleep in the shelters.
Chrissie is a woman my age whom I've known for 25 or 30 years, but we just this spring discovered what good friends we are! Since the 1980's we'd cross paths once in while, with kids the same age, and we knew each other to say "hi" but that's as far as it went. Then this spring a mutual friend told me Chrissie wants to hike the AT and would like to talk to me. So I called her, and we went in May down to Damascus, VA for the annual AT Trail Days Festivel, where we tented for two days beside a beautiful river. There, and on the 5-hours-each-way drive, we talked soooo much, about everything. She's Christian and we went to church together there on Sunday before driving home. It's amazing to think we've known each other so long and could have been friends all that time. Well, we are now. And we're going hiking!
I'm so excited! I'm getting everything ready and having so much fun. I'm no more organized than I was when planning my thru-hike, but at least I feel I know what I'm doing. It's just a matter of putting together the right stuff.
Weather is supposed to be really good, with daytime highs ranging from 50's-70'sF, nighttime lows 40's-50's. I'm going to be test-driving the Hennessy Hammock I bought this past spring. It's tricky to stay warm in them under about 65*F, so I'll be working on that problem. If I'm cold, well, I can always just put it on the ground, or just sleep in the shelters.
Chrissie is a woman my age whom I've known for 25 or 30 years, but we just this spring discovered what good friends we are! Since the 1980's we'd cross paths once in while, with kids the same age, and we knew each other to say "hi" but that's as far as it went. Then this spring a mutual friend told me Chrissie wants to hike the AT and would like to talk to me. So I called her, and we went in May down to Damascus, VA for the annual AT Trail Days Festivel, where we tented for two days beside a beautiful river. There, and on the 5-hours-each-way drive, we talked soooo much, about everything. She's Christian and we went to church together there on Sunday before driving home. It's amazing to think we've known each other so long and could have been friends all that time. Well, we are now. And we're going hiking!
Monday, October 18, 2010
RE-LIVING THE TRAIL
What I really need to do is re-copy all my Trail entries, put them in order, add more memories to them, and make a separate blog out of them, as well as copying the whole thing to TrailJournals.com. There is so much more that didn't make it into the entries, and they're all mixed up according to whether I posted them myself when I had computer access, or my husband did when he talked to me, or my daughter Avery did when I mailed her a whole bunch of them.
It will be confusing. I actually did start a Trail Journal there, under the name MacGyver09, but then I didn't keep it up, choosing instead to put everything here in my blog. Then on the Trail I got re-named "Yard Sale," so anyone I knew along the Trail will look for me under that name, not MacGyver.
And this is really, really braindead, but as many times as I've typed "MacGyver," I can't remember at this second whether it's "Mac" or "Mc." Ever have that happen? Of course you've been unsure how to spell something, and neither way looks right, but..... you own name?????
I'm losing my mind.
I think it's "Mac."
It will be confusing. I actually did start a Trail Journal there, under the name MacGyver09, but then I didn't keep it up, choosing instead to put everything here in my blog. Then on the Trail I got re-named "Yard Sale," so anyone I knew along the Trail will look for me under that name, not MacGyver.
And this is really, really braindead, but as many times as I've typed "MacGyver," I can't remember at this second whether it's "Mac" or "Mc." Ever have that happen? Of course you've been unsure how to spell something, and neither way looks right, but..... you own name?????
I'm losing my mind.
I think it's "Mac."
Linking to my Appalachian Trail Journal
AGAINST THE WIND: Springer Mountain, Georgia!
Well, that didn't work. It only takes you to the first post. Gotta work on this some more. Wish I knew HTML-speak.
Well, that didn't work. It only takes you to the first post. Gotta work on this some more. Wish I knew HTML-speak.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
CAN'T THINK OF A TITLE... BRAINDEAD
Well, the wedding went off fairly well. I hit some klinkers but don't know if anyone noticed or not.
I have been negligent. Seduced by the quick status updates and easy friend-tracking of Facebook. But it's hard to put the story of my life on Facebook. I need to post here.
For instance, I didn't post a report of my 2010 SavageMan Triathlon. Unlike last year's race, which I breezed through having a blast, this year I found it grueling and life-changing. Yes, actually life-changing. I need to write about that.
I am thinking about a second Appalachian Trail thru-hike attempt. In 2012, to celebrate being 60. Yes, in 2012 I will be 60. Actually I'll turn 60 in December of 2011 but I'll be 60 when I do my hike.
To keep from re-hiking already-covered miles, I may very well start in Maine and go south. That way if the Trail beats me again at least I will have seen a different part of it.
I've been following the absolutely riveting story of a southbound thru-hiker, on Trail Journals. His trail name is Churchill, and he writes like..... well, like a dreamer who's a realist, or a realist who's a dreamer, or both. You can find his ongoing story at My American Dream at Trail Journals. He's like a book I can't put down. He started in Maine in July and is now going through the Shenandoah/Blue Ridge region of Virginia. I remember so well being there. Yesterday he described standing on a cliff taking in the view and daydreaming...... I'll bet I know exactly where he was standing. He daydreamed about hang-gliding, but it also involved an imaginary hiking partner in the person of John Denver, and ended sadly, with a twist. This guy is an incredible writer. He's gotta get his journal published. It's something rare.
If anyone read my blog last year while I was hiking, you know that weight loss was one of the things that put me off the Trail. Well, by New Year's, I had gained it all back, plus more. This spring and summer, I've lost over half of it, training for SavageMan AND just changing my eating habits. I don't go hungry. Sometimes I still get cravings and graze or binge. But mostly..... I eat to nourish myself. It works.
I have been negligent. Seduced by the quick status updates and easy friend-tracking of Facebook. But it's hard to put the story of my life on Facebook. I need to post here.
For instance, I didn't post a report of my 2010 SavageMan Triathlon. Unlike last year's race, which I breezed through having a blast, this year I found it grueling and life-changing. Yes, actually life-changing. I need to write about that.
I am thinking about a second Appalachian Trail thru-hike attempt. In 2012, to celebrate being 60. Yes, in 2012 I will be 60. Actually I'll turn 60 in December of 2011 but I'll be 60 when I do my hike.
To keep from re-hiking already-covered miles, I may very well start in Maine and go south. That way if the Trail beats me again at least I will have seen a different part of it.
I've been following the absolutely riveting story of a southbound thru-hiker, on Trail Journals. His trail name is Churchill, and he writes like..... well, like a dreamer who's a realist, or a realist who's a dreamer, or both. You can find his ongoing story at My American Dream at Trail Journals. He's like a book I can't put down. He started in Maine in July and is now going through the Shenandoah/Blue Ridge region of Virginia. I remember so well being there. Yesterday he described standing on a cliff taking in the view and daydreaming...... I'll bet I know exactly where he was standing. He daydreamed about hang-gliding, but it also involved an imaginary hiking partner in the person of John Denver, and ended sadly, with a twist. This guy is an incredible writer. He's gotta get his journal published. It's something rare.
If anyone read my blog last year while I was hiking, you know that weight loss was one of the things that put me off the Trail. Well, by New Year's, I had gained it all back, plus more. This spring and summer, I've lost over half of it, training for SavageMan AND just changing my eating habits. I don't go hungry. Sometimes I still get cravings and graze or binge. But mostly..... I eat to nourish myself. It works.
Monday, October 04, 2010
THE WEDDING PLAYER
How did I get into this?
I seem to be the pianist for a wedding. It's happening tomorrow (yes, a Tuesday.) When I agreed to this a month ago, I hadn't played the piano since my mother and I made that tape of cello/piano music almost 2 years ago. But here it is. In front of a whole lot of people.
I have stage fright. Performance anxiety. I looked for tips on the Internet.
The best one is: "Offer yourself as the medium through which the composer's spirit and intention will flow."
In other words... forget about myself. It's not about me. It's about this beautiful young couple and God's grace flowing through and around them as their beautiful celebration unfolds.
I'm praying. I'm practicing. I'm visualizing. But I'm still going to take some Xanax before I go.
I seem to be the pianist for a wedding. It's happening tomorrow (yes, a Tuesday.) When I agreed to this a month ago, I hadn't played the piano since my mother and I made that tape of cello/piano music almost 2 years ago. But here it is. In front of a whole lot of people.
I have stage fright. Performance anxiety. I looked for tips on the Internet.
The best one is: "Offer yourself as the medium through which the composer's spirit and intention will flow."
In other words... forget about myself. It's not about me. It's about this beautiful young couple and God's grace flowing through and around them as their beautiful celebration unfolds.
I'm praying. I'm practicing. I'm visualizing. But I'm still going to take some Xanax before I go.
Monday, August 02, 2010
Re: Westernport Wall
Hah!! I went down to Westernport today and attacked The Wall over and over.
I made it 6 out of 9 times. The other 3 times, I fell. The first attempt, while I was fresh, I made it consecutively up all 4 blocks (each block a hill.... it's one 4-block-long hill, average grade 25%, interrupted only by the cross-streets.) You have to do all 4 w/o unclipping on race day to get a brick laid in the road.
After that, I just did the last section (31% grade), or the last 2, over and over, memorizing how to navigate the obstacle course of potholes and cracks (mostly 4-6 inches wide, several feet long, and at least an inch deep). I also developed a Plan B route up, in case there's someone in front of me on race day. I've determined that it's not so much an issue of strength as of balance and controlling the bike. There's a certain point before which I must not veer left; after that point, a slight left shift is helpful (Plan A) but not essential (Plan B.) I'll tell you what, I popped a few wheelies and wondered how I was still upright even though the bike seemed to have stopped moving forward, but 6 out of 9 isn't bad. At the top of one of the successful ones, I wondered, "Is my rear brake rubbing my wheel? Did itget knocked off center in that last fall? Feels like it was harder this time..." and then discovered I hadn't even been in my freakin' lowest granny gear!!!! Shoot, now I'll have to practice doing it like that >:-<
The tenth one.... well.... I started one last trip from the bottom of the 4 blocks and rode 3 of them, but then said, "Nahhhhhh......" and turned left instead of going up. I couldn't face it again and could tell I probably wouldn't make it. I was very, very tired.
There was a neighborhood boy about 12 on a mountain bike who tried it but didn't make it. He said sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't. That particular time, I made it, and he gave me a thumbs-up and said "That's a hell of a climb." He also rode down it, which I absolutely will not try.
One injury per fall: right elbow bleeding in 2 separate places (from 2 of the falls) and right hip with a swelling, obvious broken capillaries, and a great big bruise on its way (I fell to the right each time).
I plan to go do this once a week until I know that street like the back of my hand and riding it is no big deal.
Monday, July 19, 2010
SavageMan Bike Course, Take One
Find out about SavageMan here.
Sado-Masochistic, is what it is.
My son Jon and I took it very slow for his first riding of it and my first this year, and I declare, I think that's at least as hard as pushing a little harder because you're out there longer.
We both made the Wall. Except I cheated.... stopped after the first 3 preliminary hills to get my breath before I tackled it. Jon rode straight up all 4.
I bonked halfway up Maynardier Ridge (the last of the nasty hills, about mile 44) and had to sit and rest a little before continuing. It's the first time ever that I haven't made it up that hill. I was surprised because I'd just gone up all the other hills ,including "Killer Miller" Hill , without any distress. I took a couple salt tablets (cheapies from the drugstore) and a breather and then walked the rest of the hill. Jon gave me a Hammer Gel. (I'd been using a concoction of peanut butter and honey.) A few miles later I still was feeling bad, hamstrings and calves were trying to tie square knots, and Jon gave me an Endurolyte. He was carrying freebies from the Gran Fondo. I was just stupid, is all, and didn't plan right. I know better.
Or else I'm just getting too old for this.
About 15 min after the gel and lyte tab, I felt better, and by the last 5 miles I felt normal. When we got back to the cars, Jon put on running shoes and ran for 10 min, while I drank recovery drink, guarded his bike, and waited to see what I'd come back as in my next life. Guess I'll have to wait for another day to find that out, though.
I feel OK now. But I'm done w/ homebrew gels and drugstore salt tablets. Put out the money, honey, and put the hammer down.
5 hours for the 56 miles = 11.1mph. Bleah. I need 12mph to make the cutoff, which I did handily last year by 10 minutes.
There are still 2 months left.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
OH, FOR PETE'S SAKE....
Just a quick review, my husband and I are living with my mother because I/we don't feel it's safe for her to live alone anymore (89 yo, has trouble getting around due to arthritis, osteoporosis, and shortness of breath.)
Found out today during a routine doctor visit that she's been having episodes of chest pain for quite some time but hasn't mentioned it because she doesn't want to be a "fussbudget."
At first I was angry; how could she not tell her daughter, an R.N. who lives with her to look after her and her health, that she gets chest pain???
But after awhile I started realizing it wasn't deliberate, it was just ignorance and an odd form of being considerate. I shouldn't be angry.
Found out today during a routine doctor visit that she's been having episodes of chest pain for quite some time but hasn't mentioned it because she doesn't want to be a "fussbudget."
At first I was angry; how could she not tell her daughter, an R.N. who lives with her to look after her and her health, that she gets chest pain???
But after awhile I started realizing it wasn't deliberate, it was just ignorance and an odd form of being considerate. I shouldn't be angry.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
PRACTICING THE PRESENCE OF GOD
I have such a short attention span. And so much going on in my life. It's hard to remember that God is a part of it all. Hours or half a day go by when I forget all about Him.
Brother Lawrence says that will happen, when a person first sets out to form the habit of continual communion with God. And he pretty much advises, "Just press the 'reset' button. You will get the hang of it."
Of course, since The Practice of the Presence of God was written over 300 years ago, those aren't the exact words. But that's the jist.
When I first opened the book a couple weeks ago, I opened to this sentence:
"That our sanctification did not depend upon changing our works, but in doing for God's sake that which we commonly do for our own."
And right there, my life was changed.
He is in my swimming, biking, and running, as much as my son is when we arrange to train together. I forgot to ask the Lord to swim (40 minutes) and run (20 minutes) with me today. I choose to believe He was with me anyway, inviting Himself as a silent partner..... as silent as I was. My thoughts were elsewhere but He knows I would have asked Him if I had remembered. He's not bound by human-type "I wasn't invited" huffiness. He knows you meant to ask Him.
Until I get in the habit, I'm thinking I might set my watch to beep every hour I'm awake. Just to remember to check in.
You can download the book, read it, and/or print it out for free here.
Brother Lawrence says that will happen, when a person first sets out to form the habit of continual communion with God. And he pretty much advises, "Just press the 'reset' button. You will get the hang of it."
Of course, since The Practice of the Presence of God was written over 300 years ago, those aren't the exact words. But that's the jist.
When I first opened the book a couple weeks ago, I opened to this sentence:
"That our sanctification did not depend upon changing our works, but in doing for God's sake that which we commonly do for our own."
And right there, my life was changed.
He is in my swimming, biking, and running, as much as my son is when we arrange to train together. I forgot to ask the Lord to swim (40 minutes) and run (20 minutes) with me today. I choose to believe He was with me anyway, inviting Himself as a silent partner..... as silent as I was. My thoughts were elsewhere but He knows I would have asked Him if I had remembered. He's not bound by human-type "I wasn't invited" huffiness. He knows you meant to ask Him.
Until I get in the habit, I'm thinking I might set my watch to beep every hour I'm awake. Just to remember to check in.
You can download the book, read it, and/or print it out for free here.
Monday, July 12, 2010
SUN'S OUT....
....after I just finished 24 miles on the bike in the rain. I set out hoping to beat it, but got rained on anyway, just enough to keep me cool and make me a little cautious of curves, descents, and my brakes. Heard a little thunder, had one lightning flash a mile away, but didn't get struck or have to take refuge in a house (which I did once last year and made new friends.)
Anyway.... if I'd waited a few hours, I could have done it in clear weather.
But now I've had recent practice riding in the rain.
24 miles included 4 of the major hills of the SavageMan course: McAndrews Hill, Otto Lane, "Killer Miller," and Maynardier Ridge. Plus another long climb (Twin Churches Road) to get to McAndrews Hill.
I am so blessed to live practically on the bike course. Just a couple-mile ride gets me to either of 2 of the dreaded climbs. I'm getting so I don't even need to go into my lowest granny gear much of the time, which makes me very happy!
Anyway.... if I'd waited a few hours, I could have done it in clear weather.
But now I've had recent practice riding in the rain.
24 miles included 4 of the major hills of the SavageMan course: McAndrews Hill, Otto Lane, "Killer Miller," and Maynardier Ridge. Plus another long climb (Twin Churches Road) to get to McAndrews Hill.
I am so blessed to live practically on the bike course. Just a couple-mile ride gets me to either of 2 of the dreaded climbs. I'm getting so I don't even need to go into my lowest granny gear much of the time, which makes me very happy!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
LAZARUS, COAXED FROM THE DEAD
I want to get back to blogging. I have had so many unwritten pages, so many unrecorded chapters, of the story of my life fly away in the wind this summer. I can only hazily remember that I lived them.... I can't ever read about those days or truly relive them, or remember the truths I learned from them And nobody else ever will, either.
I have been so consumed with myself. That's why I haven't been able to share myself.
We just had a wonderful week in a truck-camper at a small lake in Michigan, with our son Jon, his daughters Sarah, 2, and Abbie, 7, and our 11-yo granddaughter Gracie. Gracie and I took time for an overnight trip to Chicago, by train, just the 2 of us. We had never been anywhere alone together except maybe Wal-Mart or Kroger's. It was a special treat.
So were the next couple days at the lake, our family, swimming, playing on the playground, catching minnows in buckets, and visiting or being visited by many family members we rarely get to see.
Kind of crowded in the little truck-camper and even more so riding to and from in the truck itself, but togetherness is what it's all about.
In case you're wondering..... we sold the RV in which we'd lived for the past 5 years. We live only in my mother's house now, keeping her company and making sure she's OK, and have recently gotten the truck-top camper, which sleeps 5 somewhat comfortably. It was our first trip in it. Next month we'll take our grandson.
I had much, very much care of the 3 young ones during this time. Gracie's 11 and needed companionship and alone-time more than she needed care. (Except when she tripped on an escalator in flip flops and mangled her toe; she needed care then.) So I applied myself to caring for the little girls, and making room for downtime for the hardworking men and the almost-woman girl, who loved floating on a raft without little ones tethered to her. During the week I got in one run with Jon (sprained my ankle) and one 20-min lap swim while Jon took all the girls out on a pedal boat. I worked to give each member of the family some of myself all week, and I didn't have that stressed out feeling I get when I whine about there not being enough of me to go around. Just giving myself up to the needs of the others, encouraging them to help themselves and the others when possible, thanking them for doing so, doing it for them if they didn't, speaking gently even when I wanted to raise my voice to get a response..... it went so smoothly because I took along a lifelong friend that I haven't been in close touch with for some time but who was thrilled to go along and help out and spend time with me.... Jesus. What a help he was, how pertinent his suggestions, how soothing his frequent "That's OK, I'll handle it." He's gently pointing out to me places where my words will add to the conversation, and places where it will just muddy the waters. Often I spew in words about some similar experience and start realizing that no one is listening, they've started other conversations.... they don't care what my experience was. If they do, they will ask me. If they don't, I'm off the hook, don't have to worry about how what I said came across.
Talking less doesn't mean I'm withdrawing. I pray it's the beginning of greater fellowship, now that I realize I'm here to appreciate and help them, not to yak about my own passions, roadblocks, burdens fair or unfair, whether other people's opinions are right or wrong...those things shouldn't be important to me. All that matters is saying what God nudges me to say, and he's provided me with some pithy stuff this week.
And with that I'll leave you all wondering till another day.
On this trip I learned major things:
I have been so consumed with myself. That's why I haven't been able to share myself.
We just had a wonderful week in a truck-camper at a small lake in Michigan, with our son Jon, his daughters Sarah, 2, and Abbie, 7, and our 11-yo granddaughter Gracie. Gracie and I took time for an overnight trip to Chicago, by train, just the 2 of us. We had never been anywhere alone together except maybe Wal-Mart or Kroger's. It was a special treat.
So were the next couple days at the lake, our family, swimming, playing on the playground, catching minnows in buckets, and visiting or being visited by many family members we rarely get to see.
Kind of crowded in the little truck-camper and even more so riding to and from in the truck itself, but togetherness is what it's all about.
In case you're wondering..... we sold the RV in which we'd lived for the past 5 years. We live only in my mother's house now, keeping her company and making sure she's OK, and have recently gotten the truck-top camper, which sleeps 5 somewhat comfortably. It was our first trip in it. Next month we'll take our grandson.
I had much, very much care of the 3 young ones during this time. Gracie's 11 and needed companionship and alone-time more than she needed care. (Except when she tripped on an escalator in flip flops and mangled her toe; she needed care then.) So I applied myself to caring for the little girls, and making room for downtime for the hardworking men and the almost-woman girl, who loved floating on a raft without little ones tethered to her. During the week I got in one run with Jon (sprained my ankle) and one 20-min lap swim while Jon took all the girls out on a pedal boat. I worked to give each member of the family some of myself all week, and I didn't have that stressed out feeling I get when I whine about there not being enough of me to go around. Just giving myself up to the needs of the others, encouraging them to help themselves and the others when possible, thanking them for doing so, doing it for them if they didn't, speaking gently even when I wanted to raise my voice to get a response..... it went so smoothly because I took along a lifelong friend that I haven't been in close touch with for some time but who was thrilled to go along and help out and spend time with me.... Jesus. What a help he was, how pertinent his suggestions, how soothing his frequent "That's OK, I'll handle it." He's gently pointing out to me places where my words will add to the conversation, and places where it will just muddy the waters. Often I spew in words about some similar experience and start realizing that no one is listening, they've started other conversations.... they don't care what my experience was. If they do, they will ask me. If they don't, I'm off the hook, don't have to worry about how what I said came across.
Talking less doesn't mean I'm withdrawing. I pray it's the beginning of greater fellowship, now that I realize I'm here to appreciate and help them, not to yak about my own passions, roadblocks, burdens fair or unfair, whether other people's opinions are right or wrong...those things shouldn't be important to me. All that matters is saying what God nudges me to say, and he's provided me with some pithy stuff this week.
And with that I'll leave you all wondering till another day.
On this trip I learned major things:
- It's not about me.
- Pray without ceasing.
- All things work together for those who love God.
I can face life again.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
THE RESET BUTTON
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance." (Galatians 5:22-23)
~Sigh~
I need to start over from Square One about every hour......
~Sigh~
I need to start over from Square One about every hour......
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
HANGING OVER ME
I'm caught in a time warp.
Now that it's thru-hiker season, I keep thinking, what could I have done to stay on the Trail? Even though, at the time, I had become convinced that I WANTED to come home and do the SavageMan triathlon, and when I did, I was very happy that I had.
It was after the triathlon was over that the sadness kicked in. Training for the tri had filled the void temporarily.
I'm training for the same tri again now (I'll have 6 months of training for it instead of 2 like last year) but it's not filling the void this time. No doubt I'd still be feeling Springer Fever now even if I'd stayed on the Trail and gotten to Katahdin. I'd want the hope-filled start and long step-after-step journey and the climactic finish again. I'd be wanting to pack my pack and do the whole 2,183 miles all over again. I'm sure I would. Even if I'd finished it.
Nothing ever takes the longing away. No one is ever the same. I hear it over and over.
The one thing to the contrary that I do hear, I may have averted: sticking with it far past desire, far past reason, coming to dread each day, loathing it, finishing out of stubbornness, and then never wanting to hike again, never wanting to see a trail again, even for a day. I've heard of that happening.
I'm glad it didn't happen to me. I got out in time.
With the result that I keep thinking about what I could have done to keep hiking, and what I can do to get back out there, and where and when and how.
Better to be left wanting more and planning and waiting for it to be possible, than to have lost the longing.
Now that it's thru-hiker season, I keep thinking, what could I have done to stay on the Trail? Even though, at the time, I had become convinced that I WANTED to come home and do the SavageMan triathlon, and when I did, I was very happy that I had.
It was after the triathlon was over that the sadness kicked in. Training for the tri had filled the void temporarily.
I'm training for the same tri again now (I'll have 6 months of training for it instead of 2 like last year) but it's not filling the void this time. No doubt I'd still be feeling Springer Fever now even if I'd stayed on the Trail and gotten to Katahdin. I'd want the hope-filled start and long step-after-step journey and the climactic finish again. I'd be wanting to pack my pack and do the whole 2,183 miles all over again. I'm sure I would. Even if I'd finished it.
Nothing ever takes the longing away. No one is ever the same. I hear it over and over.
The one thing to the contrary that I do hear, I may have averted: sticking with it far past desire, far past reason, coming to dread each day, loathing it, finishing out of stubbornness, and then never wanting to hike again, never wanting to see a trail again, even for a day. I've heard of that happening.
I'm glad it didn't happen to me. I got out in time.
With the result that I keep thinking about what I could have done to keep hiking, and what I can do to get back out there, and where and when and how.
Better to be left wanting more and planning and waiting for it to be possible, than to have lost the longing.
Monday, April 05, 2010
THINGS CHANGE
My tent is still outside from when I slept in it the other night. I've rested in it, napped in it, but not overnighted again since then. I keep thinking I will, but then I don't.
The weather map shows what looks like thunderstorms moving in after midnight. I was thinking I'd go out now before bed and take my tent down (in the dark) so it won't get wet. But what the heck, it's been wet lots of times. It's been wet for days at a time. The only thing is, I want to keep my down sleeping bag dry.
Then I realized.... if it gets wet, I'll bring it into the house and put it in the dryer.
Things have changed. I am not on the Trail anymore. Yet.
A fellow on an AT hiking email list is going to send me a hammock system to try risk-free: if I don't like it, I can send it back. I can't wait to try it. You stay drier in a hammock under a tarp then in a tent, and all you need to set it up is two trees -- you never have to worry about level ground or being in a low place or rocks or roots because you're above all that. I can't wait to test it out!
Then hoping to head back to the WV/MD state line on the Trail, maybe mid-May, and hike for a week or so, through Maryland and hopefully into PA to the half-way mark. My husband will stay with my mother for that long. I have got to get hiking to get well.... I'm down with "Springer Fever." Except today it was "Neels Gap Fever" -- a year ago today I'd made it to Neels Gap, the first significant landmark, 31 miles from Springer Mountain, that's some kind of Mecca for beginning hikers: "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to get..." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to find out if there's any...." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to weed out a lot of junk...." Neels Gap was on everyone's mind. I felt such accomplishment when I made it.
Well, another year.... another time. In the meantime, I'll go for week-long jaunts and make slow progress up the trail. Trail Fever aka Springer Fever (also regret) is consuming me. I gotta get out there and hike a little.
The weather map shows what looks like thunderstorms moving in after midnight. I was thinking I'd go out now before bed and take my tent down (in the dark) so it won't get wet. But what the heck, it's been wet lots of times. It's been wet for days at a time. The only thing is, I want to keep my down sleeping bag dry.
Then I realized.... if it gets wet, I'll bring it into the house and put it in the dryer.
Things have changed. I am not on the Trail anymore. Yet.
A fellow on an AT hiking email list is going to send me a hammock system to try risk-free: if I don't like it, I can send it back. I can't wait to try it. You stay drier in a hammock under a tarp then in a tent, and all you need to set it up is two trees -- you never have to worry about level ground or being in a low place or rocks or roots because you're above all that. I can't wait to test it out!
Then hoping to head back to the WV/MD state line on the Trail, maybe mid-May, and hike for a week or so, through Maryland and hopefully into PA to the half-way mark. My husband will stay with my mother for that long. I have got to get hiking to get well.... I'm down with "Springer Fever." Except today it was "Neels Gap Fever" -- a year ago today I'd made it to Neels Gap, the first significant landmark, 31 miles from Springer Mountain, that's some kind of Mecca for beginning hikers: "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to get..." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to find out if there's any...." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to weed out a lot of junk...." Neels Gap was on everyone's mind. I felt such accomplishment when I made it.
Well, another year.... another time. In the meantime, I'll go for week-long jaunts and make slow progress up the trail. Trail Fever aka Springer Fever (also regret) is consuming me. I gotta get out there and hike a little.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
ANNIVERSARY COMMEMORATION
April 1st was my Appalachian Trail start date last year. I'm remembering it by sleeping out in my tent in the woods behind the house. If I'd thought of it sooner, I'd have gone on a hike nearby and camped out there. But then I'd have missed coloring Easter eggs with our 2 youngest granddaughters, which was a blast, especially since they used raw eggs :-) Anyway, great evening with them and our son, and now I'm going to sleep outside.
How things change from the way we imagined they would be. I really thought I'd finish on Mt. Katahdin in Maine about October 1st. Well, some other year. Or some other decade.
How things change from the way we imagined they would be. I really thought I'd finish on Mt. Katahdin in Maine about October 1st. Well, some other year. Or some other decade.
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