First Annual List of Accomplishments or “Firsts” (2010 Edition)

Had ice form on my bike clothes while riding in the morning during the winter

Celebrated the passage of time (my oldest daughter turned 21) with a bunch of women in SF & later in the year drank a shot with her & went dancing

Saw my son play college lacrosse

Puked while on a bike ride previewing a course (a touch of the flu, but still…) 

Completed both short and longer distance Sprint Triathlons 

Lost 3 toenails from running in one race (it was hot & shoes too short)

Finished Olympic Distance Triathlon, despite long week of no sleep

Note: 3 goals of having fun, finishing and not puking were accomplished in all events (but not previewing courses with a touch of the stomach flu, obviously)

Went to Wisconsin & then a road trip to Nashville w/ sister & family (& saw all the states in between)

Ate at the Cracker Barrel on ^ above mentioned road trip, got only slightly sick to my stomach (I see a theme is developing here)

Was given a new moniker “Gin Kitty” by my nephew (did not involve gin, btw)

Ran my first trail run

Joined a writing group

Started a blog

Got up at 5:30 to run 2-3 mornings a week with like-minded friends

Had my first “professional matchmaker” date, and liked the guy enough to go out and become friends

Rode my old mountain bike on crazy switchbacks in Tahoe & ate dirt

Rode a rented mountain bike on The Flume Trail in Tahoe & hugged granite

Swam pretty darn far in Lake Tahoe, no wetsuit

Biked up Old Hwy 40, followed by swim in Donner Lake

Kayaked

Used a paddle board, loved it

Completed a ride down the Truckee River w/ entire family & saved mom/grandma from getting dumped

Completed first bike tour down the CA coast visiting organic farms & learning it's about the journey

Pitched a one-man tent 

Took a flippin cold “bath” in creek

Completed first ½ marathon while chatting w/ a friend, (we all wore costumes which involved pearls, fishnets, feathers and skirts, even the men)

Attended 2 day Treasure Island music festival w/16 year old daughter & was only 46 year old in sight

Experienced my first road rash, damn pinecone

Rode bike in rain with Gortex jacket (I am now a believer in Gortex)

Learned that butterfly feelings can still exist, even at age 46 & contrary to what others may say

Wore a size 6 again, and it was baggy

Shoveled a snowy driveway

Drove while it was snowing w/ chains

Snow shoeing at Taylor Creek

Developed my first chafing & bleeding from running, sports bra band was involved (had body butter, just forgot to use it)

Ran up to 15 miles with dorky fuel belt no less

Grew a wee bit wiser in the ways of love and relationships

Christmas Wishes

Santa dropped off a stocking early for a friend this year,  there were several items packed inside...

Santa Stocking

Leather-bound journal-for sorting thoughts, prayers and contemplation

Lavendar sachet-to bring a sense of calm in times of stress

Candle-for lightheartedness and romance

A lime, a mini pumpkin, a small wedge of cheese and a perfect plump berry-healthy choices and restraint now will lead to rewards in the future  (key lime or pumpkin pie if you please, cheesecake or berry cobbler)

Swedish fish-sweets because life is good and no one should totally deprive themselves

Peace ornament-your household will be one of peace

Table Topics-for conversations with children, friends and family

One perfect pine cone-to see the beauty that surrounds you

Brass heart ornament-remember that you are loved by friends, family & God

An antique key-all the things you need to be happy are within your grasp and new doors can be unlocked in your future

I Am Woman, See Me Shovel

December 20, 2010

For those of you who don’t know me, I need to tell you I am a teacher. Because of this fact I have two glorious weeks off from school every winter holiday. Yesterday I meticulously wrapped all of the Christmas presents. I had paused only once in order to give a special friend a present, which Santa had delivered ahead of schedule.

Early this morning, around 2:00am, I was lying in bed thinking of my day and debated how I should spend it.  What I needed to do was file some paperwork and write some college recommendation letters…but why do that when I could procrastinate a bit longer and take advantage of my friend’s wee wood cabin home in South Lake Tahoe? The more I thought about the matter, the more I realized I had nothing but time to make the trek up the mountain. I had prepared my car a while ago, purchasing tire chains, getting the oil changed and new car headlight bulbs replaced. With that in mind, I rolled over and soon fell asleep.

By 9:00 I had packed all items into my Jeep Liberty, including a sleeping bag, water, food, headlamp and tons of winter gear to wear over the next few days. Other than rain, the beginning of my journey was uneventful. My friend Rob had given me the phone number for California’s highway weather reports. As I reached Sacramento I dialed the number and learned chains were required to pass over Hwy 50. I cautiously headed up. As soon as I hit higher altitude it began to snow lovely laced flakes. I smiled and thought to myself THIS is why I’m going to Tahoe, to see this beauty. Look at those snowflakes falling from the sky, sashaying down. Look at the trees! Look at the snow-covered cabin roofs!

Soon I began to wonder when the chains would be required. Eventually I came to the point where the cars are checked and the “chain monkeys” are in full force. $30 dollars poorer and mere minutes later, I found myself driving in snow for the first time of my adult lifetime. I pressed my foot on the gas pedal and as my back tires were spinning to gain traction, my front ones started to slide across the icy snow. I was fishtailing, smoothly slipping across the snow with little control.

Immediately my mind recalled the same sensation, the only differences were that it was summer, I was riding a mountain bike on the Flume trail and sliding across granite sandy gravel a few thousand feet above Lake Tahoe. My guide and friend, Rick, had coached me at the bottom of the hill before we began the day. He warned me that we would be crossing sandy paths and I would likely lose control. He told me not to panic but to feel my bike and body almost glide right through it. Whatever I did, he warned me not to brake hard and quick. If I did, I would likely flip over my handlebars and could end up getting hurt badly. That was a challenging day. I was thinking of my responsibilities as the mother of my three nearly grown children, financially and in all other matters of the heart and wellbeing. In the back recesses of my mind, I was acutely aware. I looked kind of dorky, hugging the granite wall located on one side of the narrow pathway. I shared the journey with Rick and Eric, while Eric’s dog darted on and off, as well as an endurance race taking place with teams of four bicyclists passing us from the opposite direction. It was a tight squeeze. Still, it was thrilling and at the end of the day I felt I had accomplished something…more mental than physical. I could have fun, pushing my body and mind but still be a dedicated and loving mom…

Today, as I felt the same out of control sensation, I did not panic. I decided to ride through the sliding of my car across the ice. This occurred numerous times on the way over the mountain as the snow continued to fall. The truck behind me could see my dilemma and gave me a wide birth. Every time I lifted my foot off the gas pedal or started to press on it again the fish tailing would begin anew. I was quite calm and made it to the cabin. The same feeling of accomplishment washed over me.

As I drove down the street I knew there had been recent dumping of snow and that the driveway would likely be blocked. I pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. I grabbed my waterproof Sorrell snow boots, located my gloves and a hat and threw on a light Gortex jacket to ready myself for the upcoming chore. I trudged to the side of the house and grabbed the two shovels.

Hmmm, where to begin? I asked myself. I decided to get underway with a narrow path to one of the doors to the cabin. Within minutes I could recognize the time and effort that were needed to carve a spot for my Jeep Liberty. I shoveled and shoveled and shoveled. I was grinning the entire time. I know I looked like a jubilant rookie. I also know that as I was enjoying the work, I was simultaneously thinking of my sister Laura and what it must have been like when she shoveled paths in Boston, New York and now, Wisconsin. I’ve always admired her can-do attitude in regards to snow and the harsh realities of winter but perhaps even more so today. I took short breaks for sips of water. Just as I was about to tackle the more daunting task of the curbside icy wall from the street cleaners, a friend named Joel came to pitch in and shovel with me. He even made a nice pathway for the mailman to deliver mail.

Quite some time later, I drove my vehicle into the rather lengthy driveway with a sense of satisfaction. To outsiders, or seasoned mountaineers, really, what had I done today? I had driven in adverse conditions and shoveled a snowy pathway.  But I was still grinning and inside felt such joy. I laughingly told myself I am woman see me shovel!  The familiarity of my inner strength was once again renewed through circumstances that were as polar opposite as sand is to snow.

With that, I trudged down the newly formed path to begin the next leg of my journey.

Black & White

Growing up my dad would say, “I would be proud if any of my daughters married a black man.” And he wholeheartedly believed it. Growing up in a rather quiet suburban town at the time, this statement had a slim chance of becoming a reality. There were a handful of black boys at my high school. And although they were nice, nothing ever developed.

Fast forward thirty years later: a marriage, divorce, years of single parenting, and a long-term relationship that ended and I found myself  “back on the market.” I had my share of dates but eventually signed up on one of the Internet dating sights. A man with a “hidden” photo extended an olive branch. As it would turn out, he was black. We agreed to meet.

The short version is that he was intelligent, well groomed, successful and more. We dated for a bit. During that time I encountered a very small glimpse into his world. He wanted me to see things from the black male’s perspective. He taught me that blacks, in particular, black males, had to be even better than their white counterparts in order to operate in our world and be deemed eminent. His hopes and dreams for his three sons were filled with high aspirations and expectations to excel as well.

We talked about whether my friends and family would accept him into my world and vice versa. My mom and I talked about it. Growing up, my mom and dad had taken my three siblings and myself to a downtown Oakland church for a memorial when Martin Luther King, Jr. died. We were the only white family. It is one item, which causes pride in my heritage. And yet, she worried whether my dating this man would cause strife in the family. In the end, she came to the conclusion that if I ever loved this man and chose him as a partner, everyone else would grow to love him too. And those that couldn’t, well, it would just be their problem. I then reminded her of my dad’s quote that I so vividly remembered. She had never even heard him say it to my sisters or myself.  She did know he loved many of his black co-workers and friends over the years. Still, she said, the reality of one of his daughters actually dating a black man may have been a bit more of a challenge than even he had realized. Not because of him, but because of the world’s prejudices.                                                                                                                                        

In the end, we didn’t become a “couple” and our differences were not related to the color of our skin or biases. They were of a different nature. Still, he was a teacher of sorts. Today, I pause longer to put myself in some of my student’s lives and pay closer attention to their writing about growing up black in the suburban sprawl that we call home. Deep down, I too have to guard my thinking and misconceptions.

I’ve learned that I can do better. And should. I like to think that would make both of my parents proud.