Thoughts From the Trainer

It is snowing.  Again.  It seems the ground has been covered with a thick coat of white for months.  Accompanying the snow has been frigid air.  In a word, brutal.

It is Friday night, and I am on the trainer.  My plans for the evening had not originally included riding my bike.  I rode (on the trainer) this morning, and practiced yoga. I had been anticipating a lovely evening out. However, the "dusting" of snow which had been forecasted was slowly progressing into another five inches of the "lovely" white substance, putting a firm wrench into my plans. Another layer upon several previous layers of snow was piling up. The road conditions were terrible. I was bitterly disappointed to cancel, as I had looked forward to this evening all week.  

Perched in the saddle of my bike is typically my happy place. However, riding indoors has gotten tedious.  The bike, attached to the bright green trainer, has become the proverbial Road to Nowhere.  I sometimes have to laugh at how ironic it is to pedal furiously, yet literally not propel forward. Stuck at the starting line.  I repeat this process every day.  Crazy?  Perhaps, but the training will make me stronger which will translate to better riding this spring.  Soon...

My recent trip to Puerto Rico, and the 375 mile endurance ride in the hot climate, spoiled me.  It was a wonderful reprieve to ride for four days in the sunshine, no trainer in sight.  Several posts to come about this trip, which was the experience of a lifetime, to come.  They are in the works, so stay tuned.

Since returning to Indiana, we have suffered winter's wrath.  The powers that be are labeling this winter "the second snowiest on record".  Snow, which is so beautiful and peaceful, is not being enjoyed by anyone, especially the cyclists I know.  Even my kids, who enjoyed numerous snow days, are growing weary.

I've cursed the giant snow piles, scattered about town.  Including the 7ft tall pile in front of my house.  A few more turns of the snow plow on the cul-de-sac and the pile will dwarf the house itself.

As I settle into my intervals, my thoughts swirl.  I begin to laugh at the imagery of an adult woman silently cursing snow piles in the grocery store parking lot. It is rather silly. When I think of  all the serious things going on in my life and in the world, in the grand scheme of things a giant snow mound is quite insignificant.  Of course I would much rather be riding outside with the miles stretching behind me in the sunshine.  But today I still get to ride my bike. It is a privilege I embrace, even if it's on the trainer.  I'm healthy and lucky enough to be able to do so.

I mentally switched gears and instead of lamenting the snow and the fact that I was stuck indoors, I turned my thoughts to a more positive approach and took time to appreciate the positive things going on in my life.  I have some pretty amazing people surrounding me.  I'm healthy, and I'm growing spiritually and as an individual. Spring will come soon enough.

As my mind calmed, I let my legs spin and I wound down the ride with a smile on my face.  

I glanced outside at the snow covered street to see my lovely daughter shoveling the driveway (she must have gone outside while I was finishing on my rant-filled ride).  This, of course further softened my mood, and drew my attention to her beauty, as well as the serenity of the snow.  She had taken Frank, the dog outside with her, and he was unabashedly dashing around the snow, which added laughter to the scene.  I was immediately grateful

I am reminded that it is mid February and there are just a few weeks left in winter.  Spring is approaching, and I am looking forward to the day where I can pick up my green trainer, and unceremoniously place it in the storage closet in the basement where it will (hopefully) remain until December.

For now, and until the snow melts and the spring flowers begin to bloom, I will happily ride my bike.  It will be on the trainer, but soon....outside in the sunshine.

Peace, Out
xoxo

The Journey Continues

My eyes opened on day two of our journey.  Thursday, December 12, 2013. We had arrived long after sunset the night before so I was anxious to see my outdoor surroundings. It seemed we had driven through emptiness arriving in the middle of nowhere. I was imagining beauty, from the description I had been given by Becky, our hostess.  I was not disappointed. The morning light peeking through the window displayed a spectacular view of the pristine landscape of the back of the home, which had been hidden in the thick darkness of the night. It was remote and breathtakingly beautiful.  There was not a sound.  It was as if time stood still and I was the only person present. I had been given a room all to myself, probably for the last time on this trip. I stretched, like one of Becky's cats, and remained in bed for a few more minutes lost in my thoughts. This was a rare luxury and I was taking full advantage.

As I relaxed, I closed my eyes and reflected on the sense of peace I was feeling.  Our slow progress toward Florida was another luxury I appreciated. This trip means more to me than a simple vacation and cycling training. It is a catalyst to an even deeper level of spirituality. A much needed battery recharge. 

I was in perfect company. The three amigas, as we have dubbed ourselves, have different personality traits, yet we blend well together. Balance each other.  Compliment each other. Athletes, women and friends on a common journey.  There are times in life where one must put the hustle and bustle behind and return to simplicity.  We had no particular agenda other than to arrive at athlete check-in in Mt. Dora, FL at 6:30pm Friday evening, and the big training ride on Saturday.  Otherwise we were winding our way slowly to the sunshine state.

I am not spontaneous.  Or, at least I haven't been.  Recently I have been consciously letting go of a lot of my old ideas, habits and character flaws which have been holding me back from achieving balance.  On this trip I have learned spontaneity, patience and tolerance.  So far.  Ha Ha.

We had a lovely breakfast with Becky and Fatty the cat, reloaded the car and hit the open road. Destination: Chattenooga, TN. The only plan was to ride our bikes when we arrived. Hopefully part of the Ironman Chattenooga course, if we could locate it.  Basically, however we had no idea where, when or how long the ride would be, and I let go of the control.  I was along for the ride, so to speak, in more ways than one.  And that's huge progress for me.

We arrived in Chattenooga around 11am, and scoped out a good place to start. We parked in an open lot and unloaded the bikes.  It was colder than we anticipated and we needed our cold weather gear.  We laughed, bundled up (understatement) and set out.  We were going to attempt an out and back, as we were unfamiliar with the town and surrounding mountains.  Yes.  Mountains.  We started out, and Catherine stopped to request some sort of directional advice from a local Salvation Army bell ringer.  He seemed to know what he was talking about, and once again the urge to act spontaneity struck and we decided to throw caution to the wind and set out in the direction he pointed.  Our plan was to make as few turns as possible.

After taking an eternity to get changed, fill our water bottles, use the restroom and set out amidst much laughter, it was close to 2:00pm.  The ride was hard.  The elements and the terrain worked against us, but we persevered!  It felt bitterly cold, there was a fair amount of wind, and we faced challenging climbs.  (I happen to love riding in the wind and I embrace climbing, so the ride was so much fun.)  The girls had a blast as well.

Downtown Chattenooga was beautiful and the perfect spot to break up our trip to do what we love.  

We returned to the car, locked our gear and our bikes and had an early dinner. Ben and Jerry's ice cream for dessert. We justified the calories with the exertion we had put forth on our bikes. We got back on the road at 6pm, laughing and chatting as we replayed the day. We stopped for the night (spontaneously) in Valdosta, GA.  

Next destination: Mt. Dora, FL  A three hour drive....

To be continued....

Running Commentary - Rain

The alarm rouses me at 6:30am.  It's Saturday, and I struggle to recall why I am getting up so early.  It's raining.  My room is dark, quiet and the taps of rain drops are loud as they patter the roof.  I have a run on my schedule today, a long one.  I hit the snooze button, pull the covers to my chin and drift back to sleep.  Twice more.  Finally, at 7:00 I sit up then slowly crawl out of bed.

This is the first day in quite awhile the sun hasn't been streaming through my windows.  Instead it is a gloomy murkiness as I reach for the light.  Stretch.  The very last thing I want to do is put on my running shoes and head outside. I shrug the negative thoughts away and reach for my shoes, determined to do what I said I would do.

I head out and into the rain.  It actually feels good on my skin as I start warming up.  I feel suddenly optimistic about what's ahead.  I have abandoned my electronic devices and run unplugged.  Only my thoughts to listen to.

Tension evaporates into the droplets on my face as I run.  My brain swirls with thoughts of recent events, hopes for the future and gratitude.  Mile after mile goes by, and decisions are being formed in my mind.  Brain blogging at it's best.  I smile as I feel my optimism return.  The feeling to expect the best in all things returns.  Hope.

I have been struggling of late, but as I run I am reminding myself that we all have struggles in life.  Rather than sit in them it's best face them.  Run it out, but not run away.  That's what today's workout means to me.

I run for two hours, unsure of my mileage but feeling wonderful.  Rebirth with the final drops playing on my skin.

As I sit down to blog my thoughts, I see 10 unfinished posts pop up.  I am reminded of the feelings of procrastination and fear that have been plaguing me for weeks now.  Shake it off Nims.  I deleted the 10 posts that were lingering on my laptop.  Starting fresh today.  I am getting back to the basics.

Peace, out
M

Calm Amidst the Storm

There is a lightness today, a feeling I hadn't known for awhile. Two weeks and two days to be exact.  My daughter had surgery to remove a tumor from her femur on June 10. Since then it has been a waiting game. Waiting. It is the worst. Especially when cancer or no cancer is in the balance. And the person at the center of it is my child.

The surgery went well, and the surgeon was able to remove the tumor by arthroscopic means. She has 4 small holes, and since there was no incision her recovery will be relatively short. The surgeon advised  us the tissue would be sent to pathology and we would have the results in 3 to 5 days.

By Friday, when I hadn't received a phone call I called the office and spoke to the surgeon's assistant. I learned the results from the pathology had come back and the pathologist and the surgeon agreed it needed to be sent to The Mayo Clinic for further evaluation. I'm not going to lie. It was like a kick to the stomach. Not what a parent wants to hear. I felt panic rise like heat from within.

But then a strange thing happened which surprised even me. I was able to pacify myself and did not fall apart. This is quite a revelation as in the past I have been known to fall apart at the slightest provocation. But today I am stronger. I find that I am able to take things as they come. I've finally been able to adopt the attitude of "why worry before I know something concrete". Today I deal in facts and not "Oh my gosh, what if?"s. This means freedom, as worry is nothing but a burden. I put the unknown in God's hands.

This morning we heard from the doctor and were told the tumor was completely benign. Even though I hadn't been a worried mess, a huge sensation of relief washed over me. Only then did I allow myself to feel the gravity of the situation. And then I let it go. It was replaced by sheer joy that my baby was completely fine.

It feels pretty damn good to have faced a seemingly earth shattering event at face value.  I put facts around it.  And, unlike my former self, instead of focusing on the possible gloomy outcome I focused instead on being positive.  The surgeon believed from the moment we met with him that it appeared benign. In my mind I acted "as if". In my heart the tumor was benign. And I set my intention to that unless I was told differently.

What will be will be.

Taking this stance allowed me to be a calming influence on my daughter instead of a basket case.  She didn't need a frazzled mom.  She needed a mom to tell her everything was going to be alright. So I believed it was all going to be alright and that's what I conveyed to her.  She believed.

Hand in hand our family walked gracefully through this event.  And through it all we grew.  I saw her brother show genuine love and caring for his sister. None of the usual sibling bickering occurred. And her Dad softened.  Patience was the emotion du jour. Love was abound and we all rallied together.

My daughter is pretty amazing.  And pretty healthy.  And we are all extremely grateful.

She returns to work tomorrow morning.  6:00am. Guess who's driving her there?!  I'm trying to get into gratitude about that and my 5:30am wake up call.  I suppose this is my cue to say goodnight.

Peace xoxo