Is that new?

Let me put two scenarios in front of you…

You get in your car to drive to work.  A blink of an eye later, you arrive at work.   Autopilot got you there safely.  You didn’t crash, you made all the correct turns.  But you don’t remember any of the journey.

One day, you’re in your OWN NEIGHBORHOOD, and you see the most unusual, beautiful tree for the first time.  You know it can’t be new.  It’s a big ass grown tree!!  You just haven’t seen it.  Ever.  In the 10 years you’ve lived there. 

Sound familiar?  I've been asking myself how long have I have been  traveling through life semi-blind?  On and off, I think it’s been my whole life.    

In the warmer months, my family goes to the Barrese cottage.  We love to take a boat ride around Fourth Lake.  It’s nearly a family joke now…someone will inevitably see a house that they’ve never seen before.  “That must be new!  I don’t remember that!”  No.  No, it’s not.  It’s a house that was built 50 years ago.  Why haven’t we seen it?  How could this be the first time we noticed it?

I’ve decided this is no way to go through every day… somehow missing the whole drive to work, accidentally seeing something interesting, skimming a page without comprehending, or noticing someone right next to you has a beautiful soul after years of knowing them.

Sometimes my brain is paying attention even when I’m not actively trying.  Like when I’m on I-90, and always ALWAYS see the house on the south side of the highway, where Fyler Road crosses, you know, the one with the school bus that’s been parked by the barn for years?  

I don’t look for it, I swear.  Why do I see it?  Because one day, I WAS paying attention.  I saw that school bus, and I thought about it.  Why was it there?  How long had it been parked?  Did someone have plans to go on a band tour?  Were they going to turn it into a camper?  Did they lose their job as a bus driver and stole the bus, driving across the state and stashing it at their brother’s house?  Does anyone see that bus besides me?

All it took was for me to have my eyes open, and to ask a question about what I saw.  From that time forward, I could always find it. 

In this new year, I’m going to try to be more present to the things and people around me.  I’ll look for the beauty in the everyday, the power in the mundane.  I’ll try to appreciate the small ways people show care for me. 

Is it time to open your eyes?  Find all the things that seem new, but have been there all along.  

Giving Rocks

She sat there, my little niece, carefully selecting the perfect gift for each member of this impromptu beach party.  Examining every rock she found, Lily immediately knew which of the people surrounding her needed THAT rock.



She picked them and gave them out.

The sparkly rock goes to mom.
The flat rock is handed to cousin Jackson.
The rough one to Aunt Anne.

Lily didn't expect anything in return.  She didn't even get mad when Jackson skipped his across the cool water of Lake Michigan.


I've been thinking about how to apply the lesson an almost 2 year old can teach.  It's easy...

When you find the thing that someone might need, and if you can give it, hand it over.

Does that mean giving a little of your time to a project you believe in?

A kind note or phone call to a friend?  

Whatever IT is, you don't need to keep a jar of it for yourself...Giving Rocks.  

Stop, thief!

Stop, thief!

My grandmother had a copy of the Desiderata up in her sunny, yellow kitchen.   At different times in my life, I’ve invoked passages from it.  Right now, I’m stuck on this one… 

                   

I’m not so much feeling the vain and bitter feels.  I don’t have a lot to be vain about these days, and bitter isn’t really my thing.  But sadness and longing are apparently my things. 

Okay, okay.  So, stop comparing yourself to others.  Got it. 

But.  What if the “others” is actually you?  Or some older / future version of you?  

Am I as physically as strong, as capable as I was a few years ago?  Nope.  I am not.  
Am I as driven in my job, do I love what I’m doing?  Hardly. 

Have I made progress financially, did I pay off those expenses I incurred 18 month ago?  Haha!

I see others doing the same…my friends who are injured, and looking at last year’s run numbers.  People whose lives have shifted, and they look back and think things were better then.  Someone who took a risk and maybe failed on this first go ‘round of a new enterprise, and things are harder than they used to be.

Staying in the now, the right now, and focusing on what is good (or at least okay-enough) is where joy comes from.  It doesn’t mean stop striving to be something better.  But the better may come in a totally different category.  For me, re-building relationships is something I’ve been striving for, and that has come with a trade-off in the fitness category.    For others, fixing an old injury, making their home better, working on a career change has been the better thing, and the effort it has taken for those things makes other progress hard.

 I’m working on trying NOT to compare myself to others.  But also not comparing myself to some other version of me.  It’s fucking hard.   But pieces of my life are pretty awesome.  And worth the extra pounds I'm carrying, the extra minutes I take on a run, sticking with a job I'm not sure of in exchange for  some stability.   

Comparison is the thief of joy.  FDR said that.  So.  Stop, Thief!! 

Bushwhack

Bushwhack

Oh…the places one could go with that word.  Euphemism for some bedroom behavior?  George W. bashing?  Or, in Monday’s case, literally whacking though the bushes because you're no longer on the trail. 

My son Jackson saw my scratched up legs on Monday night, and questioned me about why they looked like I had lost a fight with a very small velociraptor.  I told him where my friends and I had been, and he offered up the word ‘trail-blazing’.  I think that is a BIT optimistic, implying that someone else should follow in our footsteps.  Nope.  Not quite recommended.  I led a journey across a bee-filled field and into the shady woods, and I didn’t exactly know where I was going. 

Every once in a while (or, sometimes, twice in one week) you make some bad choices that you feel pretty confident about.  A route you once did, in the winter, with a guide, in the dark-ish becomes a GREAT anchor point for a 20 mile run.  Never mind that it’s actually a dumb idea.  As long as you make the decision with confidence, you can also convince others to follow along.  I managed to get Athena and Danielle on this adventure.  We explored some new trails, some un-trails, and got a little beat up. 

But sometimes, it all works out okay!  You get to see chickens, dead snakes, a beautiful gorge, deer bones, a snapping turtle and you sit on a couch made of rocks.  You don’t get stung by a bee.  Sometimes you race a rooster!  Not every dumb idea works out okay.  But some do.  It’s okay to make mistakes.  It’s better if you have supportive friends to help you make your way back to the path.  But the bushwhacking part is part of the journey, too!  Always sticking to established trails may be safe and get you to where you’re supposed to be.  But it doesn’t always get you to where you NEED to be.  

The Real Work, by Wendell Berry

 It may be that when we no longer know what to do

we have come our real work,

and that when we no longer know which way to go

we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

The impeded stream is the one that sings.

Hot air balloon

I had a dream over the weekend.  I had been selected (SELECTED!!) to pilot a hot air balloon on a mission.  What the mission was, in the manner of dreams, was not clear to me.  What I did know, in my heart, that this was a super important matter – perhaps even of national security.  I had been practicing, working, and I thought I was READY.  READY!!

Do, or do not.  There is no try. 

Then came the box.  An impossibly small box to hold my super important balloon.  But nonetheless, it had been delivered.  I unwrapped it.  This hot air balloon was a do-it-yourself kit.  With instructions written in that poorly translated Chinese to English patois that is unique to things manufactured overseas.  What the HELL!  Why did this amazingly critical mission equipment come like this?!

To boot, this balloon was nothing like the ones I had been working with.  It only had FIVE electrical connections.  FIVE!!  NOT six!!  How does anyone make a balloon fly with only five connectors?  (Again, in the manner peculiar to dreams, it was totally sensical that the balloon was electrically powered.  Never Mind there was no basket for me to sit in.)

My sleeping self was giving voice to my inner questions….was this dream was about piloting a balloon?  (PS I REALLY want to go on a hot air balloon ride.)  Was it about taking care of my marriage, renewing my commitment to my job, being a good mom, running across the Grand Canyon… No matter.  Am I doing a good enough job?  Working hard enough on the right things? Am I ready?  Who the fuck knows.  You can only do what you are able. 

I hope I can make the damn balloon fly with only 5 connections.  It’s really important, and I really want to fly.  Tired of bumping around on the ground.

Oh, whoa is me

Nope, not a typo.



You ever get stuck in that 'poor me' attitude?  You know, where everything is just so wrong...you're tired, you're injured, you're "broke", you have poison ivy on your ass?  (or is that last one just my cross to bear?)  You're busy, you haven't seen your _______ (husband, friends, favorite neighborhood bunny) in soooo long you're sure they've forgotten you?  You're feeling fat, ineffective, blah blah blah blah....

And then.  Then.  You take a fucking breath and see how ridiculous you are being?

For real.  Like, honestly, the universe is not out to get you, for one thing.  The universe is far too busy with more important things than making you miserable.  That's pure hubris.

And another thing...your problems...put them into perspective with things that really are a big deal.  Some terrible things have been happening  We are in the middle of awful chaos and unknown things.  An itchy ass?  You had the freedom to be out in the woods, hiking around.  You're tired?  You just got to visit your family scattered all over the midwest and northeast.

What time is it?  Time to get over youself.

A pity party?  Nobody has time to attend, Beth.

Whoa.  Stop.

Take a breath.  And get over it.  Moving on.

It's not a crisis (anymore)

Recently, someone told me I was going through a mid-life crisis.  

You see, I just got a motorcycle. Of course.  

A sure sign of a crisis. They were spot on, just a little late.

Meet Sylvia 

It's not a crisis anymore.  

crisis:  (noun)\ˈkrī-ˌsēz\
1: an emotionally significant event or radical change of status in a person's life <a midlife crisis>
2: the decisive moment (as in a literary plot)
3:  an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending

Hmm.  Yep.  Sounds about right.  

That was then... when I wasn't sure what the f#$% I was doing, but I did it anyway.  When I screwed up and found out who was there to support me and call me out.  An unstable state of affairs.

Now?  Not a crisis.  Hard work.  A re-evaluation of what's important and how to do it.  Choosing to practice every day gratitude, humility, patience, joy.  Loving.

The motorcycle isn't the crisis.  It's just part of a reinvention.  

I don't have to stay the same, and my life story can't be defined by one chapter.   

The Act of Balancing

Balancing Act

Pretty precarious.

What's your version of balance?    My first instinct is that it looks like this... Something impossible to achieve, and once you get it, you'd better not move.  Or it all comes crashing down.

This doesn't quite resonate with me...It looks beautiful and all...static perfection.  But holding still is not something I want to work towards. 

Holding still does not get you anywhere.  

Oh, that Al Einstein.  Smart guy.

My life certainly is not a model of balance.  I get that.  I have, at times, been able to make it LOOK like I had it under control.  

Only to see I have gone to the extreme, careening out of control, grabbing for the tree as I fall forward.  

If I work really hard on one thing... other important things get left behind.  

Soooooo....maybe somewhere in the middle? Middle.  

Somwhere between frozen immobility and falling over.  

I'm striving for balance right now...and I think I'm a lot closer than I've been in a while.  Moving forward, while keeping things in line.  There are good things ahead in my path, and that's where I'll steer.  

That Ellen...she's pretty smart, too.

Towards the pina AND the colada.  

Uncharted Territory

This weekend, I'm going someplace I've never been.
 

Literally, since I've never been to the Catskills.  

And figuratively, as I'm going to compete in a race, and have never feel less prepared.

My "A" race has turned into a race.  

 

This guy?  He's totally lying.  

Survival of the Shawangunks is this Sunday.  I travel with friends to compete in a crazy weird triathlon...A bike (first?) and then four runs with three swims in between.  We carry our shoes when we swim, our goggles when we run.  You have a support crew that is there to help pick up your bike and keep you moving.

And we ONLY MOVE FORWARD.  No going back to home base.  

One way up.  

To the top of Mohonk Mountain.  

In a metaphorical sense, I'm moving into unknown waters in my life, too. 

I've created circumstances that forced change quickly.  Every place I'm going right now is new. 

Pretty scary.  My story is unfolding, whether I'm ready to turn the next page or not.  

I have friends and family to help me navigate the waters without drowning, to pick up my pieces.  So, there's that.  

I've never felt less prepared. But.  I can only move forward.  One way up.  So I can see the horizon again sometime. 

Falling down

This quote...I've always loved it.  I've given it on cards to friends.  I have written it in my journal.  But there's also been something about it.  I want it to say that taking risks is part of life.  It's part of living.


And you don't ALWAYS fall down.  Sometimes, the risks you take have immediate rewards.  




Sometimes, you make yourself uncomfortable and reach out to a new person.  
And you end up with a friend.

Once in a while, you attempt to do something you thought you could not.  

But you can. 

A scary opportunity comes your way, and you run towards it instead of away.  
And it makes you happy.    

You decide to trust someone with your heart, and it is justified.  

Taking risks is part of life.  It's part of living.  The leap of faith is scary...If you fall, get back up.  But you might not even stumble when you land on the other side.  Either way, find your stride and run towards the next daring adventure.  

There.  That's better.  

Shadow of a Doubt

Cast a Shadow Snowshoe Race Report
You are warned...I write too many words...
Saturday, February 7th, 2015

Saturday was the 10th running of Goose Adventure Racing's Cast a Shadow Race.  This crew puts on a solid set of races, and CAS is no exception. The format?  A 6 hour race.  There are relay teams and a solo division.  If Punxsutawny Phil doesn't see his shadow, only laps that are complete before the 6 hour mark count.  If he does...tadah!!  Any lap that starts BEFORE the 6 hours counts.  As long as you finish it.

Danielle and I after the 2014 relay.

Last year, I did the relay with friends Jenn Mullen and Danielle Snyder.  Our team was "First Step is a Doozy!"  And it was.  We had a fine time freezing and heating up and sweating and changing clothes and eating.  That's what happens in a winter relay, right?  I remember looking at the solo
racers and thinking...those people are nuts.  7 people completed a marathon or more.  What? (P.S. I like crazy).

When I laid out my plan for 2015, there was no hesitation, I'd do the solo division of Cast a Shadow.  And my goal would be a marathon.  Because who doesn't do a marathon?  In February.  On snowshoes?  Going into the race, I had a terrible 15 mile run in one back pocket, and a great 18 mile run in the other.  18 miles.  My longest ever on trails.  Hmm.  The week of the race, snow fell.  And fell.  My goal of 26.2 or more...hmmm.  My left hip flexor hurt.  Why, oh WHY did I tell ANYONE my quiet goal of a marathon? Hmm.

Night before the race...4 boys in my house, didn't go to sleep until 2am.  I woke up at 6 to register for ANOTHER snowshoe race.  Good lord.  I would run for longer than I slept.  Shit.

I had put my goal into writing to my friend Mort.  An average 12 minute pace.  45 total minutes of rest, sock changes, potty stops.  Sounded reasonable.  Race day text:  "how do you feel about knee deep snow?"  Great.  Freakin' great.  At least Phil has seen his shadow...extra time for me!

ALL of these people passed me.  Photo:  Ron Heerkens, Jr.

The race began at 2pm.  Light snow fell as we lined up at the start...well, no one really lined up at the start.  NO ONE.  Hell.  Someone should.  So, Robin, Mike M and I moved up.

Here's the start...See all those people behind me?  They all passed me.  That's okay.  I looked really good for Ron's camera for 12 meters or so.

Getting some motivation.  Photo Credit:  Ron Heerkens, Jr

Each loop was...2.3 miles?  Or so?  I don't know.  It didn't matter.  The temperature was good, the snow stopped.  People were happy.  Chatting.  At the end of loop 1, I gave the crew some entertainment.  Falling up the hill.  And AGAIN on loop 2.  I took another racer down with me.  Couldn't let her pass me while I was down, right?  I stopped every loop.  Got high fives.

Took some water, some calories every so often.  Changed my socks...They were sopping wet.  Blah.


2 hours in, 10 miles.


Somewhere around loop 5, the little gaiters I wore started to shred.  And bounce around.  Fill up with snow.  And get tight.  Efff.  This became some stupid thing to focus on.  My pebble.


Each loop, I stopped and adjusted them like 92 times.  No kidding.

Photo Credit: John Greene

Loop 8?, and we had to put our headlamps on.  I put mine on my head.  But didn't turn it on.

When I tried, it didn't TURN ON.  Perfect. Progressively darker on that loop, I stumbled, got mad.  Frustrated.  Deer darted in front of me, jacking my heart rate up.  I fell down, 3 times that loop.
When people passed me, I gratefully stepped aside.

4 hours in, 19 miles.  More than I'd ever run on trails!

That was not the case Saturday.
Snowshoes do not look good

Sometime after that, I had my moment with the damn gaiters.  I *might* have overreacted.  I ripped them off in a panic.  Well, halfway off.  THESE were the things that were slowing me down, not my tired legs.  Get them OFF.   Luckily, someone came to my aid, saved me from the evil things.

The rest of the Roads are Poison team, the other racers, friends who came out to watch, Ron the super photographer.  They saved me, too.  One helped me dress, one was on the course all 6 hours.  The others cheered and encouraged.

su-weet!!

Around 5 hours in, I figured it out.  I was going to make it.  I passed Greg, and asked "Is this damn thing over yet?"  "No", was all he said.  I told him then, though, that I was going to hit 26.2  I was at 24 and change.  I couldn't wait to see him on the next loop.

At 5:58, I let out a rebel yell (I DID go to school in New Orleans).  I stopped and made a snow angel at 26.2 miles.  I had done it!!  Crap.  I was still more than a mile from 'home'.  No matter.  I ran the last mile in slowly, but happily.  I saw Greg for the 17th time (or so), and shuffled in.  Every step I took set a new distance record for me.

Humble to be part of this group...several folks did 30 miles!!
The rest of us did 27.5 ish.  Whoohoo!

There were several times I did not think I was going to make it.  Before the race.  And especially during the hours in the dark.  You can prepare and plan.  But inevitably, doubt will creep in.  The people you have around you that believe in you, they know the truth.  But you cannot see it until it's done.  And it was done.

My Garmin said this...I set no land speed records, for sure.  But I achieved my goal.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, this was one of my favorite days.  I got to spend hours with friends, outdoors, being challenged to keep moving forward toward perceived limits.

Happy Turtle

Midway through last year, I declared (to ALL 4 people that were listening) that 2015 was to be The Year of the Trails.   I wanted a change.  Was I burnt from triathlon?  No, not really.  It's not like was training at top intensity all the time.  I was doing fine, racing pretty well.  I completed my second iron distance tri.  But I did desire something new.  I wasn't quite a Phil, but I wanted to be more Phoenix.

Trail butts at Lucien Morin

Metta and Nellie in the ADKs

As soon as Ironman Coeur d'Alene was complete, I took off my watch and switched my shoes.  I re-discovered the abundance of local parks on foot and on bike.  I took off the watch at first, and just ran. Through meadows and puddles, over hills and bridges.  Sometimes with friends, sometimes with just my dogs. Headlamps, traction, whatever.   

Getting off the road has made running feel new again.  I had lost motivation to get out and run. It had begun to feel like a chore.  And now, I take every chance to get out for a run on the trails.  I feel like a kid, playing in the woods.  Splashing across a creek.  Getting a little bit lost.   Made now Angels.  Had great conversations, deep and funny.  I have met more good people to call my friends.  Taken trips just to see new trails.  Explored places I wouldn't have gone.

Sunrise on the Crescent Trail

Not everything is perfect.  I'm slower than I used to be.  I know, you can't compare trail times to road paces.  But even compared to the trail runs I did a year ago, I'm much slower.  I'm afraid to get on the road with my speedy friends.  I still hurt myself...rolled ankles, sore muscles, strained hip flexors. Running takes a little more planning...sometimes a map, and I can't just walk out my door.  I fall down.  I definitely fall down.  

 

happy like this guy

But it's worth it.  

My Garmin tells me my pace is slower.

My head tells me I'm running for different reasons.
My full heart tells me I'm happy.

A happy turtle.

A happy trail turtle.

Irondequoit Bay

This year, I built a plan for my racing that started out with a 5K snowshoe and finishes up with a 50 mile trail run.  Everything on my calendar has dirt in it. Even for Seneca7, my team let me have the leg that goes off-road.  A dirty girl? That's right.  

Want to hit the trails?  There are many great options. #TrailsROC has weekly group runs and GREAT races all year. Medved hosts group trail runs in the spring, as well as an offroad race.  Goose Adventure Racing has an exciting race calendar.  Fleet Feet hosts many trail races and runs throught the year.  Finger Lakes Runners Club has a robust calendar, as well!  Come play in the dirt.  Be a happy trail turtle.

No need to go around the puddle.  

How long has this been here?

Reading This Makes Ewe Smart

Smart sheep make good stuff - SmartWool gear review I

I attended the Medved Winter Open House in December, where the theme of the day was "WE DON’T HIBERNATE!!”  There, the SmartWool tech rep  Brandon Lee talked about the heritage and technology that SmartWool is putting into their product lines.  Specifically, the PhD lineup.  This line is designed to keep you comfortable from head to heel in all kinds of conditions.  Brandon kept coming back to ’98.6’…meaning the pieces are all meant to keep your body temperature regulated and dry.  The wicking properties of wool are pretty amazing, too…I've come back with fuzzy ice on the outside of my shirt, but I’m comfortable on the inside.  Go Far.  Feel Good.

Don't be this guy

Last month, I published “My Favorite Things – Winter 2015 Edition”, where I picked three pieces of gear that I couldn't live without this season.  In addition, I've have worn at least one piece of SmartWool every single day for the past month. Why?  I am in love with this company.  From their socks to their sheep to their ethics.    So, here are three products I have put to the test.

1. The PhD Run Wind Tight (~$140)  To reiterate my love for these pants (they are one of my 3 favorite things this winter)…these tights incorporate windproof panels in the front to keep your muscles toasty.  The fabrics used are a blend of merino wool and synthetic fibers – taking advantage of the best of both worlds.    Read a little more here.  The details include reflective zippers at the ankle, as well as several other accents to keep you visible.  And the back pocket can hold my iPhone4 and my car key securely.  These tights are worth their price tag.  They really are.  I've worn them for at least 20 outside workouts, and I can’t complain about anything.

   

   Hill Repeats (AKA sledding)

2. The PhD NTS Light 195 Wind Zip Shirt (~$120)  SmartWool’s baselayer collection is classified by the weight of the fabric per square meter.  The 195 g/m2 is considered their ‘lightweight’ fabric.  It’s soft, stretchy, and conformable.  Then, add the cute patterned wind panel in the front and you've got a really versatile piece.  I've worn it as a base layer under a windproof jacket for colder days (we've had a lot of them!), and alone on days 25 deg+.  The zipper is large enough to make a difference, so you can cool down when things heat up. 

   

   This is NOT me.  I just couldn't find anyone
   to take my picture at 5am this morning!!!

3. 3)      The PhD HyFi Training Headband (~$30)  Unless it’s REALLY cold, I tend to prefer headbands over hats.  My other headbands are all fleece…and while warm, don’t stay in place very well, and tend to get sweaty.  Also, my ponytail can go wherever it wants!  So, this piece has gotten a lot of play.  It’s snug but doesn't make my eyes pop out, and keeps my ears warm.  Also, it prevents that stupid mark I’d otherwise get from my head lamp on morning runs.  Vanity. 

   

   sporting the HyFi at Frozen Assets (Photo:  Ron Heerkens, Jr)

These three pieces all get an A rating from me.  And while the SmartWool pieces may cost more, I think they earn their keep in my collection.  

Adventure Awaits...Get Lost!