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.