The ride today has too many words and too many images for me to organize just now. For now, the words of a favorite band:
"I get by with a little help from my friends..." the beatles
I am the luckiest girl in the world to have such amazing opportunities and people in my life!
thank you
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Cuing Up
Sunday's cue sheet sits on my desk staring at me while I desperately try not to be intimidated by it. Surprisingly short in length, the sheet marks the turns and crossroads, stops and distances for a ride being called EPIC and MONSTROUS by other riders.
Am I really up for this? Do I really have it in me? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't questioning my sanity right now. I'd be lying too if I said I was totally confident about this ride.
I'm not going to lie.
BUT I am going...
...hope I can at the very least bring back a good(sans near death or the like) story!
Am I really up for this? Do I really have it in me? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't questioning my sanity right now. I'd be lying too if I said I was totally confident about this ride.
I'm not going to lie.
BUT I am going...
...hope I can at the very least bring back a good(sans near death or the like) story!
Friday, August 28, 2009
go
There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.
Buddha
Buddha
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
One thing...
When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Shifting Gears
Life is like a ten speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use.
Charles M. Schulz
Charles M. Schulz
Monday, August 24, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Gratitude
If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.
Meister Eckhart
Meister Eckhart
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Pre-views
Tomorrow, I'm doing a century ride called the Reston Century. It's both a favorite ride AND, on many levels, one that I never really know how it will go.
Based on all local reports, up until 2 minutes ago--yes, I'm checking regularly--the weather looks to be spot on: low to upper 80s with low humidity, which is incredible for the DC area this time of year.
The course itself offers spectacular views of wide-open spaces, grassy knolls, rolling fields, assortments of grazing farm animals, historic towns and architecture, and beautifully chiseled mountains. It also includes consecutive hills--fortunately, steep inclines do get rewarded with equal descents.
Century rides feel particularly inviting to me. I love that they are not a race and that people can pace themselves as fast or as slow (as long as you get in by a certain time) as they choose. I love that people from all walks (and rides) of life take time out to ride together around the area (whatever the area) in roughly the same direction with the same objective for hours on end. I love that there are options for distance and skill. I love that there are people making sure that you and your bike are properly fueled and hydrated and mechanically sound.
This ride, in particular, clearly is much loved but it is also physically and mentally challenging for me. It brings me back for all of the above reasons and many others and, like a good book, teaches me something new each time. For me on this ride, there are internal climbs that I always find myself facing and, going, despite it, is often the bigger challenge. I've been riding and reflecting a fair amount, but still, I never really know whether the distances I have travelled (paved or spiritual) are enough to prepare me. I suppose that all I can do is be present to and thankful for the views along the way.
Based on all local reports, up until 2 minutes ago--yes, I'm checking regularly--the weather looks to be spot on: low to upper 80s with low humidity, which is incredible for the DC area this time of year.
The course itself offers spectacular views of wide-open spaces, grassy knolls, rolling fields, assortments of grazing farm animals, historic towns and architecture, and beautifully chiseled mountains. It also includes consecutive hills--fortunately, steep inclines do get rewarded with equal descents.
Century rides feel particularly inviting to me. I love that they are not a race and that people can pace themselves as fast or as slow (as long as you get in by a certain time) as they choose. I love that people from all walks (and rides) of life take time out to ride together around the area (whatever the area) in roughly the same direction with the same objective for hours on end. I love that there are options for distance and skill. I love that there are people making sure that you and your bike are properly fueled and hydrated and mechanically sound.
This ride, in particular, clearly is much loved but it is also physically and mentally challenging for me. It brings me back for all of the above reasons and many others and, like a good book, teaches me something new each time. For me on this ride, there are internal climbs that I always find myself facing and, going, despite it, is often the bigger challenge. I've been riding and reflecting a fair amount, but still, I never really know whether the distances I have travelled (paved or spiritual) are enough to prepare me. I suppose that all I can do is be present to and thankful for the views along the way.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Drafting
In cycling, riders will often ride in precise blobs. Seemingly moving as one giant beast or swarm, they buzz along, swaying with the ebbs and flows of the road, humming with even tempo. The architecture is aerodynamic: a lead point cutting through the wind, setting the pace, pulling the others, with the field behind (be it one or two or twenty) using this time to gain speed with less resistance & less force than taking the hit on their own. Usually, riders take turns taking point and, opportunities to regain strength, but maintain speed, are had by all.
It's called drafting. You'll actually see it in action in many top level competitive cycling events (except triathlons where drafting is illegal). Despite the competition, each individual works together for a common goal (well, at least until the end and then it's each man/woman for him/herself...)
I wanted to take this time to thank all of the people in my life who have taken the point for me along the way, who have given me time to regroup, recharge, practice, heal, keep trying even when I'd rather just have stopped. Thank you for giving me a blob to be part of and to which to feel connected. Thank you for letting me draft and keeping me moving, even if it was internal movement and even if it wasn't terribly fast.
Indebted and grateful!
I’m ready to pull (or push) whenever you need!
It's called drafting. You'll actually see it in action in many top level competitive cycling events (except triathlons where drafting is illegal). Despite the competition, each individual works together for a common goal (well, at least until the end and then it's each man/woman for him/herself...)
I wanted to take this time to thank all of the people in my life who have taken the point for me along the way, who have given me time to regroup, recharge, practice, heal, keep trying even when I'd rather just have stopped. Thank you for giving me a blob to be part of and to which to feel connected. Thank you for letting me draft and keeping me moving, even if it was internal movement and even if it wasn't terribly fast.
Indebted and grateful!
I’m ready to pull (or push) whenever you need!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
TeamZ..."tri-be"
So, I belong to (and sometimes actually train with) a triathlon training team called TeamZ. Sometimes, people see the gear logo and confuse the Z for a 2, but it's named after a guy with the last name Zerkle and, well, they were a bolt of lightening, kind of fell out of the sky, divine intervention, sent from on high as far as I'm concerned.
I'm not so good with transitions and change, in life or in triathlons. Sometimes they are easier than others. Sometimes they're a complete disaster. Back in 2006, things got pretty rocky and all at once there was more change than I could handle on my own. Across the board--work, socially, family, routines, financially, spiritually--apples were wildly flying out of the cart, slipping out of my hands and getting smashed everywhere; and I didn't even have a wheel to roll on! The usual things that I had clung to for security and grounding seemed to be further and further out of reach and, although I had begun to participate in triathlons as a source for community and relaxation, the circles with which I had trained were suddenly not available. A slue of injuries seemed to add insult to, well, injury. And with races scheduled??? Stuck. Stalled. Flatted. Flattened.
As life would have it, the injuries led me down a path I would not have chosen for myself...join a team? No chance! Never! Traditionally, I can be quite independent...mostly because I'm stubborn, partly because of the "mob" mentality, and also because I'm a chicken. If I fail, let me fail in the privacy of my own ego! Thank you very much! Sigh! The irony of my situation is not lost on me. Here I was, terrified of losing the little lifeboat I had called safety, refusing to take refuge on land! Sigh! Maybe because I'm just stubborn and proud enough, the option of TeamZ seemed like a good "temporary" fix--it would be after all "only" for a few months--better than training alone or not completing the events! What I found was a community of like-minded spirits, supportive teammates, and friends traveling each in and on their own journeys, working towards outward athletic goals but also working inward on self, AND really knew how to have fun! Bonus! Just when I felt lowest, TeamZ showed up, bells (cowbells) and whistles (okay, horns) and a whole lot of kindness and camaraderie. Okay, maybe having a tribe isn't so bad after all...
I'm not so good with transitions and change, in life or in triathlons. Sometimes they are easier than others. Sometimes they're a complete disaster. Back in 2006, things got pretty rocky and all at once there was more change than I could handle on my own. Across the board--work, socially, family, routines, financially, spiritually--apples were wildly flying out of the cart, slipping out of my hands and getting smashed everywhere; and I didn't even have a wheel to roll on! The usual things that I had clung to for security and grounding seemed to be further and further out of reach and, although I had begun to participate in triathlons as a source for community and relaxation, the circles with which I had trained were suddenly not available. A slue of injuries seemed to add insult to, well, injury. And with races scheduled??? Stuck. Stalled. Flatted. Flattened.
As life would have it, the injuries led me down a path I would not have chosen for myself...join a team? No chance! Never! Traditionally, I can be quite independent...mostly because I'm stubborn, partly because of the "mob" mentality, and also because I'm a chicken. If I fail, let me fail in the privacy of my own ego! Thank you very much! Sigh! The irony of my situation is not lost on me. Here I was, terrified of losing the little lifeboat I had called safety, refusing to take refuge on land! Sigh! Maybe because I'm just stubborn and proud enough, the option of TeamZ seemed like a good "temporary" fix--it would be after all "only" for a few months--better than training alone or not completing the events! What I found was a community of like-minded spirits, supportive teammates, and friends traveling each in and on their own journeys, working towards outward athletic goals but also working inward on self, AND really knew how to have fun! Bonus! Just when I felt lowest, TeamZ showed up, bells (cowbells) and whistles (okay, horns) and a whole lot of kindness and camaraderie. Okay, maybe having a tribe isn't so bad after all...
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Pick-up rides
There's a thing called a "pick-up game" where people, who play soccer or basketball or football or frisbee football or other team sports, know where and when a game might be and join in--no planned teams, no planned strategies, no practices or uniforms or dues, just show up and play.
Although not exactly the same thing or actually even the same way, I've occasionally found myself out on a ride, solo or even with another friend, trucking along and suddenly it's a pick-up ride! No teams and not a race...or at least most of the time; just like minded spirits cruising in the same direction, sharing the work and generating energy.
Often, there are no words spoken: we just start riding, drafting off one another, taking turns to pull, and covering the miles that seem to stretch forever. Now the miles slip by. Riders, eventually, peel off to their exits, no goodbyes or other fanfare, none need. It's not about the riders, the individuals, at these times; it's about the ride, the rhythm and sense of movement. It's about being part of a force that continues to move with or without you. Along the way, the ride becomes easier, more energized, more fun!
No words needed but thanks!
Although not exactly the same thing or actually even the same way, I've occasionally found myself out on a ride, solo or even with another friend, trucking along and suddenly it's a pick-up ride! No teams and not a race...or at least most of the time; just like minded spirits cruising in the same direction, sharing the work and generating energy.
Often, there are no words spoken: we just start riding, drafting off one another, taking turns to pull, and covering the miles that seem to stretch forever. Now the miles slip by. Riders, eventually, peel off to their exits, no goodbyes or other fanfare, none need. It's not about the riders, the individuals, at these times; it's about the ride, the rhythm and sense of movement. It's about being part of a force that continues to move with or without you. Along the way, the ride becomes easier, more energized, more fun!
No words needed but thanks!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Primer
So, I'm really trying to follow "procedure" with this whole painting thing (or mostly)...not something I'm really known for or quite frankly good at doing. I seldom complete any task or activity the way it's supposed to be done, often out of shear obstinance, annoyed that something is "supposed" to be done a certain way. In other words, I'm stubborn. When I cook or bake, I take at least 3 recipes and combine them and then add my own stuff too...it doesn't always exactly work out of course but that's not the point and it's okay because I was just experimenting. Training schedules...what are those? If I don't PR or improve, that's okay because well, I just do this for fun anyway.
See, if you caught it, the bigger problem is deep down I'm afraid. I'm afraid that even if I do follow "the way" I'll mess it up and it won't look or be as good as my imagination or your imagination or anyone else's imagination. The internal critics start to nag and nag and nag and even though not a single soul has breathed a real word to me I've created a whole new "American Idol Judge Panel" whose level of judgment is off the charts. And then paralysis. By the end of all of this mental warfare, I'm so tired that nothing gets done and I'd rather go and take a nap or eat that entire container of frosting or go find something else with which to busy myself, I'm a very busy woman.
So, for this project, I'm working on baby steps and following steps--a sort of zen or T'ai Chi style mediation: Do step 1. Followed by breathe. Do step 2. Breathe. Fix step 1. Breathe. Repeat step 2. Breathe. Step 3...and so on, all of it being okay and just as it is meant to be. When the Simon Cowells pop up to tell me it's not good enough or that so and so won't like it, I breathe and say "maybe."
The walls are primed (or mostly).
See, if you caught it, the bigger problem is deep down I'm afraid. I'm afraid that even if I do follow "the way" I'll mess it up and it won't look or be as good as my imagination or your imagination or anyone else's imagination. The internal critics start to nag and nag and nag and even though not a single soul has breathed a real word to me I've created a whole new "American Idol Judge Panel" whose level of judgment is off the charts. And then paralysis. By the end of all of this mental warfare, I'm so tired that nothing gets done and I'd rather go and take a nap or eat that entire container of frosting or go find something else with which to busy myself, I'm a very busy woman.
So, for this project, I'm working on baby steps and following steps--a sort of zen or T'ai Chi style mediation: Do step 1. Followed by breathe. Do step 2. Breathe. Fix step 1. Breathe. Repeat step 2. Breathe. Step 3...and so on, all of it being okay and just as it is meant to be. When the Simon Cowells pop up to tell me it's not good enough or that so and so won't like it, I breathe and say "maybe."
The walls are primed (or mostly).
Monday, August 17, 2009
Walls
I'm currently sitting on my floor staring at blank walls trying to imagine just what I want them to be. Funny statement. They're walls that's all they can be. But somehow add some paint and some pictures, change the furniture around or altogether, and these walls have a whole new presence, a whole new life, an entirely different way to move and breathe and be.
Right now, they sit staring blankly back at me, like a cursor on a pristine white new document waiting to be typed on. What will the story be now? What decorative words will be hung on these pages that stand guard over me while I rest and recharge? What shades of life will add new life to my spirit? Will embrace me when I return from long, full days, reminding me to be? Spalshes of tester colors with nature drenched names, like Marigold Petals and Luscious Mango, give me a sense of what the future could hold: to be enfolded daily in a field of flowers and sweet tropical fruit.
Now, if I only had a magic wand to do it!
Right now, they sit staring blankly back at me, like a cursor on a pristine white new document waiting to be typed on. What will the story be now? What decorative words will be hung on these pages that stand guard over me while I rest and recharge? What shades of life will add new life to my spirit? Will embrace me when I return from long, full days, reminding me to be? Spalshes of tester colors with nature drenched names, like Marigold Petals and Luscious Mango, give me a sense of what the future could hold: to be enfolded daily in a field of flowers and sweet tropical fruit.
Now, if I only had a magic wand to do it!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Road Signs: Student Prophets
There's an old saying, "Out of the mouths of babes," referring to the uncanny ability of children to say things to which we adults are either just not paying attention or in ways that really hit home. They’re the voices crying out. The mini-prophets with profound words and visions or if not so profound just REALLY blatantly evident. I think of the children's fairy tale, "The Emperor's New Clothes" as a perfect example, where a child fearlessly states the obvious in the midst of adults foolishly wrapped up in their fears, self-doubts and obsessions. I also think of my students over the years and the many lessons they've taught me, whether I was wanting to learn them or not.
Many years ago in my second year as a licensed teacher, I taught a Head Start class based in a Fairfax County Elementary School. One of my students, we'll call him Mo, was one of my prophets. As is easy to do, not only as a new teacher but as both a woman and an ultra-responsible, invest-it-all type, I put a LOT of time and energy into work...okay, all of it. Essentially, I opened the building and closed it many a day. Yes, I do like being able to get in before the madness and bustle start to fill the air, AND, I have a tendency to, well, forget that there's more to life than work. Work, though exhausting, generally is a safe place--meaning: I know what to do there and am pretty good at it; it's mostly dependable and predictable; and besides, in my little classroom, I was in control; I was in charge. Other parts of my life...not so much.
Enter Mo. Mo was a high energy, fast forward kid. He seldom knew where his body was in relation to anything or anyone else and, consistently, slammed into other children and objects as he flailed about the room. Often, he would leap up from a collision ready to take the offender down. (The day he realized HE was the offender is a whole other entry.) Needless to say, with him around, I was not in control but constantly on high alert for potential wars.
Mo was also not a strong turn-taker. He wanted it all and NOW. He was exceptionally vocal about it too. Interrupting, calling out, jumping up and, well, taking over---over and over and over.
About a month or so into this beat down of my energy and spirit, Mo was heard repeatedly calling out, "What about me?” I glossed over it for several days, not REALLY listening to him; instead redirecting, modeling, doing all that teacher stuff I'm supposed to do. After about a full week of "What about me?" echoing loudly throughout the classroom throughout the day, I finally stopped. I stopped and I just looked at him. Staring at me intently, a joyful smile across his face, he said, "What about me?" The emperor had been exposed--these words were for me. What about me? How is it that work is everything? How is it that I’ve been living so safely and so carefully? Who am I to think I'm in control? How is it that I’ve gotten so wrapped up in doing and not being? He said it again quietly and again quietly. I smiled and said nothing but nodded my head. Then he stopped and sat down.
Out of the mouths of babes...
Many years ago in my second year as a licensed teacher, I taught a Head Start class based in a Fairfax County Elementary School. One of my students, we'll call him Mo, was one of my prophets. As is easy to do, not only as a new teacher but as both a woman and an ultra-responsible, invest-it-all type, I put a LOT of time and energy into work...okay, all of it. Essentially, I opened the building and closed it many a day. Yes, I do like being able to get in before the madness and bustle start to fill the air, AND, I have a tendency to, well, forget that there's more to life than work. Work, though exhausting, generally is a safe place--meaning: I know what to do there and am pretty good at it; it's mostly dependable and predictable; and besides, in my little classroom, I was in control; I was in charge. Other parts of my life...not so much.
Enter Mo. Mo was a high energy, fast forward kid. He seldom knew where his body was in relation to anything or anyone else and, consistently, slammed into other children and objects as he flailed about the room. Often, he would leap up from a collision ready to take the offender down. (The day he realized HE was the offender is a whole other entry.) Needless to say, with him around, I was not in control but constantly on high alert for potential wars.
Mo was also not a strong turn-taker. He wanted it all and NOW. He was exceptionally vocal about it too. Interrupting, calling out, jumping up and, well, taking over---over and over and over.
About a month or so into this beat down of my energy and spirit, Mo was heard repeatedly calling out, "What about me?” I glossed over it for several days, not REALLY listening to him; instead redirecting, modeling, doing all that teacher stuff I'm supposed to do. After about a full week of "What about me?" echoing loudly throughout the classroom throughout the day, I finally stopped. I stopped and I just looked at him. Staring at me intently, a joyful smile across his face, he said, "What about me?" The emperor had been exposed--these words were for me. What about me? How is it that work is everything? How is it that I’ve been living so safely and so carefully? Who am I to think I'm in control? How is it that I’ve gotten so wrapped up in doing and not being? He said it again quietly and again quietly. I smiled and said nothing but nodded my head. Then he stopped and sat down.
Out of the mouths of babes...
Saturday, August 15, 2009
It's not all about the bike...
Today, I went ice skating. It was terrific fun and also a lesson in balance, literally. I haven't been skating in probably 10 years! (FYI: ice is slippery and ice skates are like trying to walk on knives strapped to the bottom of your shoes...and then you're supposed to walk on the ice!)
As I laced up my rentals, "plants" gracefully glided on the freshly smoothed ice giving the false sense that this is going to be easy and relaxing. This is a trap! They are staff members who were clearly born on the ice and who lure you out so you can fall on your bum and provide entertainment for everyone.
In a nutshell...I loved it!
As I laced up my rentals, "plants" gracefully glided on the freshly smoothed ice giving the false sense that this is going to be easy and relaxing. This is a trap! They are staff members who were clearly born on the ice and who lure you out so you can fall on your bum and provide entertainment for everyone.
In a nutshell...I loved it!
Friday, August 14, 2009
Learning curves
So, technology isn't totally alien to me but there's a LOT to learn in this blogging and iphone-age--both of which are probably now obsolete since I've typed that. Even when it comes to training for events (triathlons, cycling, running, you name it) gear & all that comes with training has become high tech: super-streamlined; computerized; ultra-light; ultra-efficient; ultra-performance focused. Even workouts & rides: downloadable and uploadable and gps-able. Not that there's anything wrong with all of the state of the art-ness but I'm not quite there yet. I still just binder clip the paper cue sheet to my steel bike, with my homemade PBHB (peanut, butter, honey and banana sandwich) tucked in my jersey and off I go.
More to the point...I'm still trying to figure out how to add photos : ) I'll eventually a) figure a way to get the ones on my phone off my phone, b) upload them to blog and c) do it before everything switches over to an entirely different platform altogether. Eventually...
More to the point...I'm still trying to figure out how to add photos : ) I'll eventually a) figure a way to get the ones on my phone off my phone, b) upload them to blog and c) do it before everything switches over to an entirely different platform altogether. Eventually...
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Motion-less
Sometimes on a ride, there's no momentum, no rhythm, no cadence, no speed, no nothing. Tires feel flat but they're full. Flat stretches feel like steep inclines. Down hills feel like sitting still. I can't clip in, and worse, I can't clip out....
These are the no motion days, where I feel off and out of sorts. These are the days that used to get me down but now just remind me to regroup and evaluate: Weather? Could be. Not enough fluid. Not enough nutrition. Not enough clothing or maybe too much. Health? Could be. Not enough sleep. Asthma. Allergies. Getting sick. Too much fun the night before...too little...
Mostly, I now try to see it just as practice, all of it: life. Every day is just practice. It's all learning. I don't have to be the fastest, the best at anything or perfect. I just have to be and to learn from each moment so that I can learn some more. No great distance, no great speed, no great anything, just being, here and now, good and bad, motion or no motion.
These are the no motion days, where I feel off and out of sorts. These are the days that used to get me down but now just remind me to regroup and evaluate: Weather? Could be. Not enough fluid. Not enough nutrition. Not enough clothing or maybe too much. Health? Could be. Not enough sleep. Asthma. Allergies. Getting sick. Too much fun the night before...too little...
Mostly, I now try to see it just as practice, all of it: life. Every day is just practice. It's all learning. I don't have to be the fastest, the best at anything or perfect. I just have to be and to learn from each moment so that I can learn some more. No great distance, no great speed, no great anything, just being, here and now, good and bad, motion or no motion.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
What the hell is that????
Okay, so today on my ride, I pass a guy who says, "There's a *inaudible* up ahead." To which I smiled and said thanks, having no idea what he said, but was thankful for the warning. About 75 to 100 yards ahead I see this *inaudible*...a large-ish gray-black something in the middle (literally) of the trail. Trash? Getting closer...large rock? Getting closer...dead animal? Ten yards...OH, wait, that animal is alive! Holy Heck! What is it? A turtle? Whoa!
For weeks now, I've seen many styles of wildlife along the trail and other rides, including cute little turtles. This, however, was neither cute nor little. It looked like several animal parts had been left over and slapped together: add one large buzzard beak or better yet triceratops’s sans nose horn + large (1-2 foot)scalloped turtle shell + four leathery legs with skin akin to an elephant's with eagle-like claws + an alligator's tail = beats me! I stopped and pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture. For a moment, I wondered if I should move *inaudible* off the trail but looking at it's size and beak for a mouth...eh...maybe not.
When I stopped at a local dining spot--and biker rest stop--right on the trail, I told them about the creature that looked as if it was in the wrong eon. The guy behind the counter nonchalantly relayed a story about finding an "alligator snapping turtle" right out back the other day. He told me it could have bit my finger clean off...glad I decided to just snap a photo.
For weeks now, I've seen many styles of wildlife along the trail and other rides, including cute little turtles. This, however, was neither cute nor little. It looked like several animal parts had been left over and slapped together: add one large buzzard beak or better yet triceratops’s sans nose horn + large (1-2 foot)scalloped turtle shell + four leathery legs with skin akin to an elephant's with eagle-like claws + an alligator's tail = beats me! I stopped and pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture. For a moment, I wondered if I should move *inaudible* off the trail but looking at it's size and beak for a mouth...eh...maybe not.
When I stopped at a local dining spot--and biker rest stop--right on the trail, I told them about the creature that looked as if it was in the wrong eon. The guy behind the counter nonchalantly relayed a story about finding an "alligator snapping turtle" right out back the other day. He told me it could have bit my finger clean off...glad I decided to just snap a photo.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The "Best" way to eat a cupcake...
I don't recall what genius taught me THE way, but the wisdom has become a tradition or perhaps an obsession (one of many!). Nonetheless, eating cupcakes IS an art, and, to truly savor each morsel and crumb in each decadent bite, technique is required.
It's rather simple but not obvious at first because the frosting (and mind you, this technique truly ONLY applies to the frosted variations) distracts; often colorful or well designed, it lures you into believing that the cupcake should remain with the frosting topside. Not true. Think different as they say. By carefully splitting the cupcake top off and flipping the bottom part on top (visualize sandwich--cupcake, frosting, cupcake), you are now able to enjoy cake and frosting in each bite with no fear of frosting up your nose or that sensation that there was more frosting than cake in any particular bite. Voila!
Although I'm a HUGE fan of technique #1, stated above, I have discovered another. The other best way to eat a cupcake...is with children who totally appreciate every step in creating it as well as consuming it. Today, being the last day of summer school, we FINALLY did something fun: we made cupcakes "from scratch"--which by the way is an interesting/hilarious conversation with children who are learning English AND who have never made things "from scratch." Flour, wait, let me see! Sugar, let me see! We relished each addition, counted each mix with the spoon, and, with utter satisfaction inhaled the final product. Pure joy! Have a great rest of the summer!
It's rather simple but not obvious at first because the frosting (and mind you, this technique truly ONLY applies to the frosted variations) distracts; often colorful or well designed, it lures you into believing that the cupcake should remain with the frosting topside. Not true. Think different as they say. By carefully splitting the cupcake top off and flipping the bottom part on top (visualize sandwich--cupcake, frosting, cupcake), you are now able to enjoy cake and frosting in each bite with no fear of frosting up your nose or that sensation that there was more frosting than cake in any particular bite. Voila!
Although I'm a HUGE fan of technique #1, stated above, I have discovered another. The other best way to eat a cupcake...is with children who totally appreciate every step in creating it as well as consuming it. Today, being the last day of summer school, we FINALLY did something fun: we made cupcakes "from scratch"--which by the way is an interesting/hilarious conversation with children who are learning English AND who have never made things "from scratch." Flour, wait, let me see! Sugar, let me see! We relished each addition, counted each mix with the spoon, and, with utter satisfaction inhaled the final product. Pure joy! Have a great rest of the summer!
Monday, August 10, 2009
Almost...
This summer, I've been teaching reading to a small group of rising second and third graders. It's been an adventure. It ends tomorrow. The jury's out on how much reading growth has occurred...
Although my job expectation is to teach reading, it seems like I've been working on survival skills: turn-taking (versus taking all of the turns and throwing fits if someone else gets a turn); sharing (instead of hoarding and destroying things so others can't use them); listening (listening...listening); using words and body language in ways that get your needs met (as opposed to warfare); self-control (rather than impulsively flailing about); asking for and accepting help (instead of calling everyone and everything stupid and crawling under a table); focus (no, we're not talking about your wheelies on your shoes right now); knowing what to focus on and when (yes, I'm sure the wheelies are fun AND do you know what we are doing right now?); finding ways to describe what you do and see, so that others can understand you (okay, so there's a thing and it goes in a thing and then you do what with it?). Oh, yeah, and in the midst of that, reading...quite honestly I'm not sure whether the reading piece stuck. I'm not sure ANYTHING did, or will, but I see moments of almost...
Today, my student who "hates" me was seen all about the room offering to help others, asking to use things before just grabbing them, waiting for others to speak, and apologizing if he spoke over them. And...
We have a buddy rule for the hallway: have one. Another student needed to go to the restroom; getting my nod and reminder to look for a buddy, she turned to find someone. Immediately, "he who hates me" kindly offered to go. He then raced to the door, plowing into and knocking her over on the way. Sigh. As it turns out, he was actually trying to open the door for her...well, he's trying...he's almost there.
Although my job expectation is to teach reading, it seems like I've been working on survival skills: turn-taking (versus taking all of the turns and throwing fits if someone else gets a turn); sharing (instead of hoarding and destroying things so others can't use them); listening (listening...listening); using words and body language in ways that get your needs met (as opposed to warfare); self-control (rather than impulsively flailing about); asking for and accepting help (instead of calling everyone and everything stupid and crawling under a table); focus (no, we're not talking about your wheelies on your shoes right now); knowing what to focus on and when (yes, I'm sure the wheelies are fun AND do you know what we are doing right now?); finding ways to describe what you do and see, so that others can understand you (okay, so there's a thing and it goes in a thing and then you do what with it?). Oh, yeah, and in the midst of that, reading...quite honestly I'm not sure whether the reading piece stuck. I'm not sure ANYTHING did, or will, but I see moments of almost...
Today, my student who "hates" me was seen all about the room offering to help others, asking to use things before just grabbing them, waiting for others to speak, and apologizing if he spoke over them. And...
We have a buddy rule for the hallway: have one. Another student needed to go to the restroom; getting my nod and reminder to look for a buddy, she turned to find someone. Immediately, "he who hates me" kindly offered to go. He then raced to the door, plowing into and knocking her over on the way. Sigh. As it turns out, he was actually trying to open the door for her...well, he's trying...he's almost there.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Hazy, Hot, Humid, Hydrate
Today's ride was "up there" as they say. We finally got some of the typical DC weather: 95+ degrees with astronomical humidity. The ride, in Boyce, VA, covered rolling hills with gorgeous, luscious fields stretching out to painted, hilly skies. A very wet spring and a thus far mild summer, yielded rich green vegetation everywhere you looked. Quaint homes and towns, and historic landmarks added variety to the landscape. Save for a few cross overs with local traffic and railroad tracks (which can be tricky) it was truly beautiful. AND hot. Ugh! One could say "egg frying worthy."
As a note: If you ever intend to do any long rides (or, for that matter, any physical activity) in hot, humid weather, one word: hydrate. By hydrate, I mean: drink plenty (it varies from person to person but at the very minimum 8, 8-ounce glasses of fluid/water) at least two days before the event/activity. It matters and makes a difference.
Having said all of the above, I'm recharged and energized by today's difficult ride and feel inspired to keep moving.
As a note: If you ever intend to do any long rides (or, for that matter, any physical activity) in hot, humid weather, one word: hydrate. By hydrate, I mean: drink plenty (it varies from person to person but at the very minimum 8, 8-ounce glasses of fluid/water) at least two days before the event/activity. It matters and makes a difference.
Having said all of the above, I'm recharged and energized by today's difficult ride and feel inspired to keep moving.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Distance + time+hot/humid=tomorrow
I'm both looking forward to and nervous about tomorrow's ride. It's an 80-miler that is coupled with some of DC's standard summer weather (hazy, hot and humid). We've been pretty spoiled here this summer and I don't know how I'll hold up in this type of heat since I haven't really been training in it much this year. I'm not fond of extreme temps (cold or hot) and I am uncertain about how ready I am for this one. Guess I'll find out...
Friday, August 7, 2009
Groundhog day...woodchuck sightings
The W&OD trail is also home to groundhogs--aka woodchucks--which happily sun themselves trail-side during the summer--I can totally relate. Casually gnawing on grass and weeds, they seldom appear to notice that they are inches away from speeding bikes, runners and, gasp, small children and dogs who see them as toys. They're funny to watch and although large and bulky in size, apparently can run as fast as 10 miles an hour! Holy hog! Maybe knowing they can bolt, gives them the ability to be all zen about chilling by the side of the road.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Rush...
45 miles an hour.
By car standards it hardly seems fast. I frequently travel much faster.
The other day, I looked down at my bike computer and saw that's how fast I was going...wow! It's actually pretty frickin' fast!
what a rush...
...and why do I feel like I need to travel so much faster all the time?
By car standards it hardly seems fast. I frequently travel much faster.
The other day, I looked down at my bike computer and saw that's how fast I was going...wow! It's actually pretty frickin' fast!
what a rush...
...and why do I feel like I need to travel so much faster all the time?
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Road Signs...student crossing
One of my students told me he hated me today. He rolled his eyes towards the back of his head (scary) and told me he hated me, he hated teachers and he didn't need anyone to help him EVER.
Other than how hard it was to NOT stick my tongue out at him and say "Like I care," two main thoughts are stirred:
1)how much my students teach me &
2)how often my students reflect back to me my own weaknesses.
My first year of teaching in VA was a ride and a half! I had one student in particular who really schooled me on boundaries. He taught me to be reflective BUT to try not to take it personally. Yes, it was somewhat personal; he told me he hated me too. AND he was telling me there's a lot more to the situation, wake up lady and don't make it about you. Hard lessons. Not yet mastered though.
Other Lessons Over the Years: I can’t do it all; I’m not their savior; I have a lot to learn; their lives aren’t mine to control or decide; I don't have the answers; I have to take care of me. Knowing the lessons and learning them are two totally separate things.
Weak. Today's lesson: I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling needy. I hate it when I’m not able to do things easily. I hate feeling like I can’t do something. I hate feeling like I can’t truly help this child. I hate feeling like I failed him.
I get it kiddo. Take a breath and let me know when you’re ready to try again. I'll be over here taking a breath and trying to do my best too.
Other than how hard it was to NOT stick my tongue out at him and say "Like I care," two main thoughts are stirred:
1)how much my students teach me &
2)how often my students reflect back to me my own weaknesses.
My first year of teaching in VA was a ride and a half! I had one student in particular who really schooled me on boundaries. He taught me to be reflective BUT to try not to take it personally. Yes, it was somewhat personal; he told me he hated me too. AND he was telling me there's a lot more to the situation, wake up lady and don't make it about you. Hard lessons. Not yet mastered though.
Other Lessons Over the Years: I can’t do it all; I’m not their savior; I have a lot to learn; their lives aren’t mine to control or decide; I don't have the answers; I have to take care of me. Knowing the lessons and learning them are two totally separate things.
Weak. Today's lesson: I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling needy. I hate it when I’m not able to do things easily. I hate feeling like I can’t do something. I hate feeling like I can’t truly help this child. I hate feeling like I failed him.
I get it kiddo. Take a breath and let me know when you’re ready to try again. I'll be over here taking a breath and trying to do my best too.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Deer sightings
Along my rides on the W&OD (a local trail here in Northern VA), I often see deer. Lately, I see them every ride.
There's something mesmerizing about them--I become completely transfixed. Every time I see one, I feel like I'm suddenly moving in slow motion; and, although I actually DO slow down(because if there's one there's likely more)it's not about my actual speed but more that time stops. It's quite bizarre.
On one ride, a deer stood casually on the side of the trail, so close that had I reached out I could have touched him. He appeared neither ready to bolt nor frozen in fear; he was just hanging out. I saw him as I approached from a distance about an eighth of a mile. He saw me too. He just stared right at me and, as I passed, he continued to hold my gaze. It was pretty amazing.
More lessons in being present and mindful?
There's something mesmerizing about them--I become completely transfixed. Every time I see one, I feel like I'm suddenly moving in slow motion; and, although I actually DO slow down(because if there's one there's likely more)it's not about my actual speed but more that time stops. It's quite bizarre.
On one ride, a deer stood casually on the side of the trail, so close that had I reached out I could have touched him. He appeared neither ready to bolt nor frozen in fear; he was just hanging out. I saw him as I approached from a distance about an eighth of a mile. He saw me too. He just stared right at me and, as I passed, he continued to hold my gaze. It was pretty amazing.
More lessons in being present and mindful?
Sunday, August 2, 2009
One turn of the wheel...
I almost didn’t get up this morning for the ride. There were crazy bolts of lightening and window shaking booms of thunder around 3am. When my alarm went off at 6am, I thought for sure “cancelled” and hit snooze. At 6:07am, I thought, “Better check email…”-- NOT cancelled, sigh.
Today I, therefore, did, in fact, ride my road bike with TeamZ, a team with which I occasionally train. What I’m training for is a whole different topic. TeamZ is a triathlon training team with a lot of pizzazz, meaning it’s actually social and fun! Again, that’s another entry altogether. I mostly do the long rides with them these days and today was one of them.
The ride was in Frederick, MD. On my way there from Arlington, VA, I turned on the radio to catch the weather report. I had eyed the report at home online: RAIN. It seemed more likely towards mid-day so I thought I was in the clear when I left, but as I approached Frederick, skies grew darker and darker. Better check. Great timing, weather report up next…”Storm warning with high winds and heavy downpours for…” you guessed it Frederick, MD! Sigh! Why did I get up?
I spend a lot of my days in fast forward. If my body isn’t moving, my mind is. I enjoy meditating but the truth is I don’t do it enough. Exercise is a way for me to center and release all the mental and physical stress I carry. It isn’t however meditation in the purest sense. Intense focus. Full attention. I can still fill my mind with other things and voila I’ve finished a 10 mile run or a 60 mile bike ride. Today was not one of those days. Today was intense. It was a ride to be reckoned with.
The distance wasn’t something I hadn’t accomplished. I’d even been faced with challenging hills but today it took everything I had to will myself up them. The initial climbs were at best grueling. When we started, I found myself cursing the rain, but blessing it on these ascents—a reminder that it’s all perspective. It was a fairly hot and humid day and the rain kept me from bursting into flames on the steep inclines—at one point, I thought for sure it could happen.
There were times on the ride I felt like I was using every part of my being, mind, body and spirit just to get the crank to turn once. It was everything I had just for one turn of the wheel. One breath. One turn. One breath. One turn. Nothing else. No worries. No planning for later today, this week, this year, 10 years from now. Just this very moment. Just here. Just now. One turn. Slowly. Up. The. Hill. It makes breathing such a gift. It makes being such a gift. Glad I got up.
Today I, therefore, did, in fact, ride my road bike with TeamZ, a team with which I occasionally train. What I’m training for is a whole different topic. TeamZ is a triathlon training team with a lot of pizzazz, meaning it’s actually social and fun! Again, that’s another entry altogether. I mostly do the long rides with them these days and today was one of them.
The ride was in Frederick, MD. On my way there from Arlington, VA, I turned on the radio to catch the weather report. I had eyed the report at home online: RAIN. It seemed more likely towards mid-day so I thought I was in the clear when I left, but as I approached Frederick, skies grew darker and darker. Better check. Great timing, weather report up next…”Storm warning with high winds and heavy downpours for…” you guessed it Frederick, MD! Sigh! Why did I get up?
I spend a lot of my days in fast forward. If my body isn’t moving, my mind is. I enjoy meditating but the truth is I don’t do it enough. Exercise is a way for me to center and release all the mental and physical stress I carry. It isn’t however meditation in the purest sense. Intense focus. Full attention. I can still fill my mind with other things and voila I’ve finished a 10 mile run or a 60 mile bike ride. Today was not one of those days. Today was intense. It was a ride to be reckoned with.
The distance wasn’t something I hadn’t accomplished. I’d even been faced with challenging hills but today it took everything I had to will myself up them. The initial climbs were at best grueling. When we started, I found myself cursing the rain, but blessing it on these ascents—a reminder that it’s all perspective. It was a fairly hot and humid day and the rain kept me from bursting into flames on the steep inclines—at one point, I thought for sure it could happen.
There were times on the ride I felt like I was using every part of my being, mind, body and spirit just to get the crank to turn once. It was everything I had just for one turn of the wheel. One breath. One turn. One breath. One turn. Nothing else. No worries. No planning for later today, this week, this year, 10 years from now. Just this very moment. Just here. Just now. One turn. Slowly. Up. The. Hill. It makes breathing such a gift. It makes being such a gift. Glad I got up.
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