T looking awfully relaxed the day after Thanksgiving...

Sisters...Giant Hachi photos from October Reunion weekend:

Looking over the top of the fence...

Playing with Bob...

Two smiles (sort of)...

Thanksgiving in NM with T and Ra

I started to write about Thanksgiving, but realized I couldn't really delve into the why's and wherefores.

So, instead, I just want to say that my sister flew in this past Tuesday and stayed through Saturday. She telecommutes, so she spent her first day working from the back area of Flying Star cafe until her 2 pm cut off time and then did some casual window shopping at Nob Hill. That evening we went to an actual movie theatre and saw Into the Wild, which was shot beautifully and much better than I thought it would be, but could really only be as good as the actual story iself (true tale that it is).

For the rest of her stay, T took a hiatus from studying and we tramped around for 3 days. We potlucked an "orphan" Thanksgiving dinner with a co-worker who lost everything in Katrina, her mother visiting from Biloxi, Mississippi, and a friend, also new to the area.

After watching a CRAZY movie, called "Crazy Love," we opened our curtains to a white world, as the first snow of the year fell, blanketing everything.

The next day we drove up to the Ojo Caliente hot springs for a few hours of soaking, had dinner at Rancho de Chimayo, and stopped in Santa Fe for an acrobatic circus a la (junior) Cirque du Soleil.

Ojo was nice, but I realized it really wasn't for me when my favorite part was the large, clear, cool temperatured pool that you could actually swim in. Sitting and soaking in murky, alkaloid, iron, and arsenic waters, with the possibility of bacterrhea (sic), didn't really appeal to me. The lithium spring tasted BAD, and Ra and I spit for a long time afterwards.

Rancho De Chimayo is cute, affordable, big on New Mexican atmosphere, and the food is good, but could use a little more seasoning /spice/chile to add panache the to the New Mexican mexican menu.

The circus started slow, but took off with fun and high flying acrobatics on trapeze, bicycles, curtains, and ropes. It was whimsical and athletic. Parts were absolutely astonishing. If you've seen Cirque du Soleil, than this is where those performers start out.

Our final day was spent breakfasting at The Grove, then scanning a lifetime of our childhood photos onto CD, so that Ra could take them back with her.

The trip was too short, too fast.

I've been lucky enough to see my sister this past August (Barb's race), October (high school reunion), and now in November. Plans are to meet up in January (southern California or Baja), but it never seems to be enough. As T says, we never stop talking. I think if we lived near each other, we'd have nothing but fun. Still, it's nice to show each other a different part of the world.

She's been a part of my whole life, except for the first year and 4 months. She is a remarkable, outspoken, smart, funny, and beautiful person, and I am truly lucky to have her in my life.

Snow Under a Full Moon

Holy Potato--(that’s Muffin’s eruditism that I’ve pirated as mine) –it is cold out there!

Mr. T – ostensibly attracted by the siren seduction of a possible cash prize, but secretly probably just jonesing for the novelty –raced cyclocross this evening.
That’s right—
I said “THIS EVENING.”
As in night
After the sun goes down
And the light of day turns into the depths of night,
And the temperature turns itself upside down
And NO LIVING CREATURE should be stirring about.

The event was called the KHS Night Cross New Mexico.

It was held in Tijeras, a scenic little town that is at 6300’ ELEVATION (colder temps), inside a NARROW ROCKY CANYON (even colder temps), with SNOW on the ground (coldest temps of all).

Combine this with a recent cold front --28 degrees at 5:00 pm, plummeting to 16 degrees at 7:00 pm.

The race started at 6:20 pm.

Crazy-Crosser-Man-With-Gonads-Of-Pure-Ice drove out to the race before me so he would have time to “warm up.”

I got myself dressed, stepped outside, and immediately returned indoors to put on more clothes.

I layered doubley well. The whole kit and kaboodle. Wool socks, extra long underwear, sweater, fleece top and bottom, down jacket, gloves, hat, boots.

And I STILL FROZE everywhere.

The full moon, however, was not to be missed.
Nor the flat blackness of the rocks silhouetted high against the moon-lit black sky.
The crispness of the clean, still air.
The absence of light-pollution from the nearby city.
Trees lit only by moonlight.
The brightness of the snow.

Neither was the race, but I’ll let Crazy-Crosser-Man-With-Gonads-Of-Pure-Ice tell you about that.

It was amazing to see how much community support an atypical event like this could generate: 10,000 watts of flood lights donated by a local construction company, the venue donated by Los Vecinos Community Center, KHS New Mexico designed and implemented the course as well as provided a warm, heated tent, and a surprising number of spectators provided enthusiastic encouragement complete with cowbells and cameras. Cash prizes went 20 deep for the “A” race. Once the race was over, local cyclists donated plenty of hot eats: hot chocolate, hot cider, coffee, brownies, cookies and chile.

The first ten minutes of spectating were fun.

The rest was just hanging in there, while the pain of intense cold seeped into various body parts.

Still, just to be there,
Under a black sky,
Deep shadows among trees garnished with snow,
The bright light of a full moon
Set square between the tops of the canyon walls,
Luminescence.

And to breath.

WRAPPING IT UP FOR THE SEASON

Southwest Challenge Triathlon & Duathlon Series Age Group Champion here.

Finally.

At least I think I am.

I worked hard enough for it.

I even got into the water more than once a week.

Now, that’s a biggie.

I can’t seem to access the Southwest Challenge points page, so going on my (somewhat biased) recollection, here goes:

OVERALL FEMALE WIN (I’m proud of this one)(Plus I got shwag—or whatever you call it)
Stealth Duathlon (Fastest female bike!! –what I live for)

SECOND OVERALL FEMALE (Proud of these, too)
John Stermer Duathlon (Fastest female bike – yup, I’m livin’ large!!)
Sully Super Sprint A.K.A. Alpine Triathlon

AGE GROUP WINS (First, first, first among women my age!)
Stealth Duathlon
Alpine Triathlon
F1 Triathlon (swim-swim-bike-run-bike-run)
Cotton Country Triathlon

SECOND PLACE AGE GROUP (Drat—there really are people better than me…)
Polar Bear Triathlon
John Stermer Duathlon
Atomic Duathlon—the FAT BOY (l-o-o-o-g version) (pg. 2)
Gallup Triathlon (inaugural)
Bottomless Triathlon

MISC FINISHES (OK, I know, I know, I really do need to work harder…)
Mesilla Valley Track Club Triathlon – 4th AG
Jay Benson Triathlon—6th AG
Grady Williams Memorial Triathlon (Olympic) – 3rd AG

PLUS, TWO HALF IRONMAN RACES (travel, friends, and good fun endurance--love this stuff):
Ford 70.3 Half Ironman Honu—June 3rd, Hapuna Beach, Big Island, Hawaii
Barbs Race – August 4th, Guerneville, California (flat tire, 5th AG)

BEEN WORKING TOWARD THIS FOR 4 YEARS.

I've finally progressed past the 8-Day training program I used to use just prior to a race event in 2003, my year of Tri-Team Southwest training where I got left behind a lot in 2004, my very haphazard training program in 2005 (just do what feels good, and be grumpy when you don't get results), and my "off year" of next to no training in 2006 (try doing a Half Ironman off the couch...ooh, my knees...).

Along the way I shed a job that was taking Way, WAY, WAY too much of my time.

I had a great training year in 2007, bettered myself, and earned the trophy.

Looking forward to unknowns and betterment next year.

See y'all at the races.

Now-- Back to the off season

Swim



















Bike



Run





















DONE!

Flying In From Dallas-Fort Worth, TX

Ooooef!
Waiting for the airline to find my lost luggage.

Ouch!
So far it hasn't been "located."

It was a direct flight. We checked in an hour and a half early.
We had time to do all kinds of good airport things:

• eat french fries
• peruse entertainment/gossip/relationship magazines
• discuss clothing
• dissect our current relationships in good girlfriend fashion
• tell old dating stories (now that was funny)

We were good airport people.

And BOTH of our bags got lost.

How in the world am I going to get around the house at night without my (Magoo) glasses?
Or my favorite pajama top?
My too cute Zoot capri workout leggings?
Or my all important electric toothbrush?

"24 hours" the website says.

Well, I hope so.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

'OHANA AND HULA

At class tonight, I danced solo.





Not only that, but I had to improvise, AND "work the stage."









Imagine doing this to a Tahitian beat, when you've only participated 4 times, and at the back of the class, which consists mostly of 20-somethings, who have been dancing since they were small children, and who move really well, are more flexible and sway a whole lot better.

I on the other hand barely hang in, can't hear the count,
lose the "bump" over and over again, and have shadowed thoughts of joint damage.

Hip circles at high speed are hard.

Hip circles at high speed while traveling by yourself around the room with an audience that is LOOKing at you, is really hard.


The hula solo went a whole lot better, although I did get a little nervous, distracted by the eyes of the audience, and lost the movement by "thinking too hard."

Since I tend to panic in public, hyperventilate or get flushed at just the thought of speaking up in front of a group, this could have been a really stressful evening.

Instead I didn't panic, and only felt mildly foolish.

Mostly, I was surprised at just how comfortable I felt, and how, in this environment, there was no judgement of quality or performance.

Just a wide eyed expectation that you loved the dance as much as they.


In this cement floored garage, tinged with the stink of cigarette smoke, flanked by a vehicle in repair and shelves of miscellaneous storage boxes, Auntie R and Auntie T passing the culture to the next generation, appreciation of dance and movement, a family collective to make it better for all, no competition or rating scale, 'ohana and hula in a high-desert, land-locked state, truly blessed to be there, I found that I did.


My only real concern? I may get sick more often this cold season--I must get, and give, 10 hula-sister and hula-bro hugs every night I go to dance.

Notes:

Photo #1: Tahitian dancers

Photo #2: Keiki (child) hula

Photo #3: Kahiko (ancient) hula

Photo #4: Auana (modern hula) grace at sunset

I Had So Much Fun...!

I went to my high school reunion, and found I was beautiful.

Also, optimistic, and highly enthusiastic.

I found I could walk into a room crowded with people I really didn't know, start up a conversation, and enjoy myself.

I had so much fun!

Well, to some extent.

There were those awkward moments.

The Kava champagne and white wine probably helped a bit in this regard.

Ohhh dear....

I hope I didn't have "too much fun."

Lately, though, I 've been walking on air.

The mean man at work barely even phased me.

I feel beautiful.

Inside and out!

Wow! Kapow! People Are Great

So, here I am blogging in the company of my dedicated team member triathletes. Feel like a square peg in a round hole, but that’s me—I take the off-season OFF—and do everything else instead. Trust me-- it is nothing but fun.

First, I would like to congratulate each and every one who toed the starting line at SOMA. You did it. Trained, planned, sacrificed, focused, made adjustments to family, work, and mental status, dug down deep when you had to, groaned and moaned for that last ounce of commitment.
You.
(Yes, you)
MADE. IT. HAPPEN.

Congratulate yourselves.

As they say—everyone is invited to the dance.
The kicker is --not everyone makes that choice to get out there and do it.

Pirate: BUMMER and MORE! I am so sorry about the mechanical. I would have felt the same way, but not have acted with such grace. How absolutely and utterly frustrating, especially when it was beyond your control. Having the support of so many people who cared—now that is irreplaceable. Finishing a half? Yes, you can replace that one. Loved your post.

Hartley: Congratulations on your first half. I know that not finishing must have really been difficult. Taking care of an injury is priority, and you did right, by not pushing yourself beyond what your body was telling you. I know there will be other half’s. Even though you didn’t finish, I’m guessing you learned some valuable lessons that will only make the next one better. My first was an experiment, my second was a race!

GG: Kudos for listening to your true self and not bowing down to ego or perspectives outside of yourself. You probably avoided some real damage to yourself both physically and mentally. I think what you did was the strongest choice of all. You will get your heart again and that will be the best race of all. I know you know this. We’ve both been there when it all comes together. Now, that’s having FUN.

SWTrigal: Congratulations on the race of your triathlon career. Wow. Breaking your PR by 27 minutes. Finishing in the top third (give or take a hair) of your age group. GREAT bike time. I see Age Group accomplishments in your future. Go out and get ‘em—I know you can do it.

Mr. S. Baboo: Great PR time! Looks like a great race. Way to allay the demons of IMAz. Think a PR more than makes up for the upcoming loss of your Clydesdale status? Bet you do! Looking forward to the race report.

Now, as I said, I’m kind of a square peg in a round hole. Always have been. My time is complete with hula and Tahitian dance, rock climbing, reorganizing my body (working on healthy joints and tissue), reorganizing my mind (yup, need to grind it up now and then), reconnecting with old friends, supporting my forever T on his journey through law school (YES—HE POSTED!!!) living the life of a domestic diva to the extent that I am able, cooking (a lot) and, as always, figuring out “there” from “here.”

I don’t have a minute to spare.

Recently, and briefly, I did attend my 30-year high school reunion.

There was so much energy, I didn’t want it to end

It was poignant and fun.

Disconcerting and life affirming.

There were only a few people that I recognized outright—the rest had “changed” enough that I had to look at their nametags and ask questions.

I didn’t have enough time to meet and talk with everyone.

Unfortunately, I limited myself, by being too shy to approach those that I didn’t know at all, and intimidated by a few others.

Funny enough, I was snubbed by a few—but maybe they were too shy also (OK-- I really don’t believe that…)

I missed the picnic the next day and I’m sorry I did. My sister had house pipe plumbing problems, Hachi the giant dog had to be walked on a beautiful wooded hilly trail, and I hadn’t gone to bed until 4:30 am the night before—bad planning on my part.

I wish we all could do it again next year. Really.

This—coming from the one who didn’t “know” anybody, and who had a heck of a time in high school.

The best part of all? Reconnecting and connecting with some of the greatest people: Charlie and his wife Karrie, Lisa, and Karen Q—thank you for such a warm, funny evening—rescuing me over and over again…. Mike B. (Charlie’s friend), Christine, April, Tim A., Aneeta, Scott and Denise, Iana, Tori, Nicole V., Robt T from NJ, and the RN whose name escapes me, and everyone else I talked to. Gillie--you get honorable mention.

YES, I had fun.

Life IS fragile and brief.

Make the most of it.

And,
WOW (kapow!),
people are great.

High School Dress Anxiety Revisited

I love those mornings when you jump out of bed, and the sun is coming in through the windows at a slant, making the room light and white, the wooden floors are soft underfoot (not too cold yet, because winter is only just around the corner), the jungle of green that you have jumbled up everywhere (because you just took in the plants due to the impending winter just around the corner) looks healthy with sunlight interplaying through the leaves, and the radio (satellite) plays just about the best songs to jump and sing out to.

I love those mornings.

Of course, I hate the Bruce Cockburn remake. But it’s only a temporary set back. And then I get to jump and sing again.

The best part about this particular morning is that I finally figured out what I am going to wear to my high school reunion and I don’t have to go shopping. Since I haven’t bought anything dressy in about ten years, and still seem to have a lot of my ‘80’s wardrobe, I’m concerned about the large-flower print filmy almost mini -skirt, but think I can pull off retro chic with my “lean” (hee hee) tri legs ensheathed in sheerness of some sort and a fitted mature-yet-sexy (meaning “not too tight”) top.
Dress code?
Haven’t received one yet.
Anyway. I love those mornings.
Now I’m off for a run.

IMPORTANT UPDATE TO POST (in honor of the wishes of others…)

The patients I work with are more excited than I am about this reunion thing. I mean, they are really excited. “Have you gone shopping yet?” was the question of the day. Hour after hour I received advice.
“You have to be sexy.”
“Wear something tight with a push up bra.”
“You need a sparkly mini-dress.”
The ever present, “With a figure like yours….” Which was nice to hear, but I’m pretty much disguised at work—lots of loose PC clothing, that I almost get lost in. Someone twice my size could probably fit into what I wear. How could anyone know what I really look like?

Frannie, the mother of one of my patients, waved at me from across the gym, then heaved up her blue eye-shadowed, bouffant hair-do'd, 60 plus year old, non-active body to “dash” over to me. She looked so anxious, I was sure she wanted to talk about her daughter, who’s impending discharge, initiated by the insurance company, brings tears to her eyes. You have to go to “Ritzy Rags!” she tells me, breathless from her 30 foot maneuver across the gym. It's nice to see her smile with the conviction of having given me good advice.

I feel like I should get dressed up for them.
Tell them that I wore that sparkly mini-cocktail dress, walked in and wowed the whole room.
I’m not sure a filmy retro large-flower print skirt that must be 15 years old is what they’re envisioning for me.
(Sigh)
I guess I have to go shopping.

James Quinn: The Death of a Cyclist

This past weekend, Mr. T volunteered his time to drive support for the James Quinn Memorial Bicycle Ride. He packed up his truck with extra wheels, tubes, tools, and pump, and rode as sweep and mechanic at the tail end of the ride.

He fixed innumerable flats.
He saw bikes of every age, model, and level of decrepitude—from department store mountain bikes with rotten tires and fraying brake cables, to high-end road models that hummed up the hills.
He saw people of every ability, including the woman who looked as if she had never ridden a bike in her life trying to go up Tramway with her hands in the air (?), and the man who tried to go up Tramway by zig zagging across the yellow line in the center of the road—until he was told him that if he didn’t stop doing that he would be pulled from the ride for endangering himself and others.
Nob Hill Velo showed up, including their juniors, as well as Sports Outdoors, KHS, BikeABQ, UNM Cycling, and the New Mexico Velo Sport.
83-year-old Gus the Pig Farmer came out because his wife saw it in the newspaper and made him do it, pacemaker and all.
The Bernalillo County Sheriff Department sent 5 cars, and the Albuquerque Police Department sent 3. There was police escort front, side, and back—every which way you looked.
The ride attracted at least 200 cyclists.
All riding in tribute and in support. As a way to raise awareness, some in anger and protest, and as a way to show a recently widowed young woman and grieving family how much they cared.

James Quinn arrived in New Mexico less than 2 months ago. He came with Ashley, his wife of 15 months, to attend the UNM Law School. On September 15th, he was riding with his wife toward Tijeras on Old Route 66, when he was hit by car and killed. He died at the scene. He was 28 years old.

The outpouring of support on this recent Saturday morning was overwhelming. James Quinn’s wife, sister and mother were present. There is still a lot of anger and controversy over this most recent cycling death. And concern over the increasing number of bicycle deaths and injuries. The accident occurred on a straight stretch of highway that each of us has ridden innumerable times. It’s a reminder to please be careful.

My heartfelt condolences to the family and friends of James Quinn.