Love, Life and Puppy Dog Tales

It started with an Asian gentleman, jogging in khakis. That got me thinking I could do it.  Get out and do it.   So I did.  As I rode, other characters became a part of this journey. Cigar man.   Truth be told, I have never seen him with a cigar.  I only saw a still lit cigar once in the gutter,  and then saw him.  I assumed they belonged together.   Every morning he leaves from his house to go on a walk (perhaps to smoke a cigar?).   Every time he sees me, he always smiles and nods.  I nod back. Min Pin woman.   She has never acknowledged me.   To be sure, she sees me and we make solid eye contact, but never a nod or a word. She walks her Min Pin with purpose and doesn't let anything distract her.  Not even me saying good morning. Mini Dachshund woman (sorry folks... if they're walking a dog, that will be their identity... it's how I operate.)     The Dachshund has a variety of sweaters and always seems cheerful. The woman always says some variant  of good

"Fear is not real.  It is a product of thoughts you create. Do not misunderstand me.  Danger is very real.  But fear is a choice." (Will Smith -as Cypher Raige -After Earth) My first post in August at the beginning of my bike riding journey talked about my fears. Other posts I have created since then have reiterated those fears and identified new ones. It seems as though a new fear has cropped up for me time and again.  I remember being a kid and being seemingly unafraid of anything.  As I grew up, fears started to creep in. With fear comes obstacles.  If I am afraid of doing or experiencing it, I don't try.  I freeze in place. Colonel Chris Hadfield has a phenomenal Ted Talk about fear.  He was an astronaut that flew space shuttle missions to the the International Space Station.   He talked about facing, and overcoming, your fears.  Experiencing them, sometimes over and over again, to get past the fear.  His example, initially, was about spiders

13 weeks 57 Rides 412.6 miles All those weeks. All those rides. All those miles. And I almost didn't finish today's ride. I didn't think I could. I wanted to give up. We were on a new trail.  New is my nemesis.  Today was no different. I spent the first couple of miles looking at the new surroundings and being in awe.  I spent the next couple of miles enjoying the ride and the trail. Then I realized that, for the most part, we were going down hill.   You know that saying, what goes up must come down? It works in reverse too. For the next couple of miles I agonized over the idea that I would have to go UP hill to get back to the truck as this was not a loop trail.  I was terrified over the idea that I didn't know where this trail went and how much more of it was down hill,  which translated into so much more up hill to ride back. At one point I was nearly in hysterical tears - what did I get myself into?   I thought about how I could g

It's funny how some memories stick with you for forever.  Some of those memories seem so very clear, it's almost like having a movie projector in your head. I have a teenage memory that stands out incredibly clear for me. It evokes potent emotions each time it comes up.  It is so vivid that when I call it up, I feel very much like I am there again. I can see the green and black zebra striped wall paper. (Who puts wallpaper in a mobile home?) I can see the molding strip that comes down ALMOST to the top of the mirror.  It stops about one inch away.  It was that way from the day my parents bought the place, and of all the flaws they found that they had the company fix, this one they missed.  So it stayed.  Yes the molding had the green and black zebra striped wall paper on it too. I can see the counter top, littered with soaps and lotions and potions all designed to make a teenage girl feel like a socially acceptable person. In case you were wondering, no.  There wa

I am still going. I started August 1st.  I have gone 274 miles. I have ridden almost 26 hours. I have climbed over 21000 feet. I am up to nearly 8 miles every day I ride. I am trying to ride 5 out of 7 days each week. My current average speed is about 11.5mph I am now at the point where each ride feels good.  Even the hard starts, and the awkward moments, and the "well crap, blew that" and have to push the bike up the hill a touch are all ending with 'that felt good' and the next morning I want to ride again. Now the days I don't ride, I have progressed from thinking "whew, glad I didn't ride" to wishing I could have ridden and truly missing riding that day. I feel stronger.  My legs have more strength in them. I can stand and put my pants on without leaning on something.  My cardiovascular capabilities are noticeably better.  I can actually run after my dog when he gives me an alert - I am truly at the point where I

I was going to talk about lessons after a rain.  Slippery places and puddles. My headlight playing tricks on me.  Riding in the dark.   But something happened. It was a rough start this morning.  Shortly into the ride, my bike shorts' elastic waist band folded over and rolled down.  This happens because, quite frankly, there's a bit too much fat in the middle of me and it pushes on the elastic until the elastic cries uncle and backs off.  That made me quite sad.  That had happened to me all the time in the beginning.  Every single ride.    Only recently had I noticed that it hadn't been happening at all.  In fact, on Thursday, after a particularly good ride in a week of particularly good rides, I allowed myself to think that perhaps changes were indeed happening with my body, even though the scale was reticent to share the same good news with me. When it happened again this morning, I was more than crestfallen.  However, as I rode, I tried to push m

When I was about 10 or so, I had just figured out that my personal space - my home - could be invaded.  I don't think anything happened, at least I don't remember anything happening, to cause that realization.  It was just there. One night, with this thought fresh in my head, I went to bed. My bed was on the opposite side of the room from the door, with a good view of the door. I thought about how I wanted to go to sleep, knowing that at any moment, someone could come through my bedroom door and.... and... do what, I don't know, but they would be a stranger and they wouldn't belong and it would be bad.   So I chose to sleep facing the door.  It frightened me to think of the terrible things that could happen, but I decided that I wanted to be able to face whatever was coming head on.  So with great trepidation, I rolled onto my right side and faced the door. Eventually, I fell asleep.  Nothing bad happened. I survived. Several weeks went by like this.  I

Habit: a settled or regular tendency or practice, especially one that is hard to give up. I was recently told during a leadership class that it take 12 weeks to form a new habit. Truth be told, this same instructor at a different leadership class had said the same thing, but I ignored it.  Now that I have something new that I am doing, something that I am trying to make sure that I keep doing, that 12 weeks has stuck in my head. I started riding my bike on August 1st.  So if this woman is correct, by November 1st, this bike riding thing will have become a habit.  Something that is hard to give up. It has been hard to continue.   Nearly every morning that I plan to ride, even though I try to make it a natural as possible, it is hard to get the clothes on, get the shoes on, get the helmet on, (not the gloves... I really like the gloves... they are an odd source of inner power for me), get the bike outside and go.   Those steps are all slow, awkward, and with anywhere from a to

There are so many things in my head.  So many different ways I want to go with this post. Do I talk about control? Do I talk about my fears? Do I talk about what I want to do? Do I talk about my accomplishments? Maybe I can talk about all of it... Control. This has so many aspects in my life.  When the rest of my life is out of control, I rearrange the furniture in the house - because I have control over that.   Where it comes to light in riding is with hills.  This time however, in going down the hills.   When I was young - I rode bikes with abandon.  I don't recall having any fear of hills, up or down, at any point.  I spent summers riding to and from my sister's house and the store.  A ride fraught with hills - up and down - and curves and even some traffic issues - although a short cut through a trailer park allowed you to avoid the highway.  I sped up and down those hills without a second thought.   Even after I crashed and broke my clavicle, once h