Tour De Nowhere 2009

This weekend I did a small bike ride called the Tour De Nowhere. It was a 30 mile ride that benefitted the local girls’ home. It is run by a small, but enthusiastic crowd and is always a nice ride. This year my brother was in town and agreed to do it with me which was really fun because I have not had anybody ride with me in a long time.

The course is pretty flat but every year I have done this, there is a horrible headwind for the first 10 miles that makes it seem like so much harder and longer than it is. Usually after that, it is all smiles, however this year there was a point when I was sure we only had two or three miles left until we saw the sign that said it was 13 miles to town. Ouch. We had barely gone halfway at that point!

One great thing about having this brother with me was that he used to be a track coach so he really pushed me to go faster. I tend to take these rides not very seriously and just kind of float along, but I did not do that this weekend with him riding my back tire encouraging me to push it and catch the person in front of me. I remember last year that there was a pretty big guy ahead of me that I thought for sure would tire in the first 5 miles, but I was never able to catch him. This year, it was the same guy ahead of me, but again, I just knew he would get tired and I would pass him easily. I chased him for all 30 miles of the ride but never caught up with him. What was really depressing was that he stopped at both rest stops and I STILL could not catch up with him. That was frustrating, but then again it was really good training for me to actually try to catch someone instead of just trolling along. We ended up finishing in right at two hours which I figured we would be at due to the slow first ten miles!

Sadly though, another one bit the dust as my brother told me that it was fun, thank you very much, but I will not ever be doing this again. This is the third brother I have gone through that will no longer do rides with me and now I just have one untainted brother left. I have a feeling that he will not be doing a bike ride with me unless he can do it in his cowboy boots and hat which could actually be very entertaining!

I am officially signed up to do a sprint tri in two weeks in my hometown. I gave myself lots of time to back out, but now due to my family all knowing about it and being in town that weekend, I really can't back out now. I need to kick up my running some, but other than that I am not too worried. It might be slow, but I know I can do it!

LIVESTRONG 2009

Several months ago I joined the LIVESTONG Team Fat Cyclist:Fighting for Susan. I am sure most people who read any kind of blogs have heard of Fatcyclist.com and of Elden Nelson. He can write beautifully and can also be very funny.
I personally don’t like to do charity bike rides. I don’t think people should give money for me to do something I enjoy. If I really want them to donate money for something, I should have to eat bugs or touch snakes because that would be something you would really have to pay to see. I changed my mind about charity rides this year after reading Fatcyclist. You see, Elden has a wife named Susan whom he loves so much you can see it pouring from the words he writes. Susan is fighting so much cancer I cannot even start to write about all of it. Elden is fighting by trying to build the largest team ever for LIVESTONG and also raise the most money ever. It awes me to think of what both of these people are doing to fight cancer.
I am going to post what Elden wrote yesterday just in case you don’t want to click on a link to see it because I think it is that important. If you have not already donated to LIVESTRONG, or just want to donate more, please visit my page. If money is too tight to donate, then please says some prayers for this incredible family.

Fighting LIKE Susan
07.8.2009 | 7:39 am
You know you’re living a different sort of life than most people when you stop checking to see what bone your wife has just broken.
But that’s where we are.
Last week — just a couple of weeks since her left collarbone broke — when I was helping Susan sit up, planning to transfer her to the wheelchair, something gave. It was probably a rib (or might have been a vertebrae), but we don’t know which one.
We do know that this establishes a pattern: the narrow structural bones — the ones that get lots of stress on a daily basis — are the ones that are going first.
And since Susan’s right collarbone is starting to ache, I’m officially terrified to move her. Not that she’d let me anyway: any position but flat on her back triggers the pain that only a freshly-broken bone can bring.
Which means that I’m currently totally stymied. Every day, several times per day, I ask Susan, “Is there anything I can do for you?” And she knows I don’t mean get her something to eat, or read her a book, or massage her scalp. I mean, “Is there some way I can fix you? Or at least rig something together to make your life more comfortable or convenient?”
But nothing comes to mind.
The Story So Far
To understand my frustration, you need to see that doing something to help has been my coping mechanism through this whole process. Back in Christmastime of 2003, when Susan first found a lump in one of her breasts, my reaction — odd as it might seem — was to start looking in earnest for a better-paying job with better benefits. With better insurance, I’d be able to get Susan better treatment. I did what I could to fix what I could.
And that worked. I found a good job at a company with a great health plan. But we’d have to move.
Of course, that meant that while Susan was recovering from a mastectomy, we were also putting the house up for sale and packing and moving across the country…while taking care of twin toddler girls and two young boys who did not want to move.
Then there were a couple of temporary houses and the house we finally bought — all while Susan endured chemo.
The chemo, though, had a surprisingly common side effect afterward: depression. Think about it: your body’s weak from enduring weekly poison. You’ve been through a huge emotional and physical experience but will have to wait for resolution. You’re bald and probably puffy from steroids. Most oncologists, I understand, plan on depression as an after-effect of chemo.
So again, I tried to fix things. I found a new job, closer to friends and family, and in the sun. We moved again, back to Utah.
Susan loved the house, loved the neighborhood, and felt better in general. She started working out, getting her strength back.
And then her hip started hurting.
Neither of us wanted to even acknowledge the possibility of what that might mean, so for weeks she just treated it like a sports injury.
Finally though, she went to the family doctor, who did some X-rays. And then he immediately called the oncologist.
And that’s where the news got bad. Susan’s cancer had metastasized, and was in her bones, lungs, liver, lymph nodes, and spine.
Honestly, I now can’t even remember the order of some of the treatment from that point forward. Did we do radiation and then chemo? Or was it the other way around? It almost doesn’t matter, because before too long, Susan couldn’t walk any more without crippling, crushing pain in her hip.
A tumor had destroyed it.
An excellent surgeon at the Huntsman Cancer Institute did a partial hip replacement, while I scrambled, fixing things around the house as well as I could. A stair elevator. Rails in the bathroom and shower. Furniture rearrangement galore.
Then there was more chemo, and for a while things were looking pretty good. Susan could walk using nothing but a cane (and even short distances without the cane), and she even had the mental energy to start writing a novel.
And then, a little over a year ago, Susan lost the ability to sleep. Three nights went by, with her getting no sleep whatsoever. I tried to help with soothing music, back rubs, sleeping aids and reading obsolete technical documentation I had written years ago out loud to her.
And then she had an MRI. Brain tumors. Too many to count. We did the radiation, and then chemo for a while, and that’s been about as much as we can do.
So now, as Susan’s become weaker, I’ve been adapting and solving. When she couldn’t sit up, I learned to swing her into position and move her into a wheelchair.
When she was uncomfortable being in one position in a chair all day, I bought an easy chair that can change positions with the touch of a remote control.
When one of her collarbones broke, I learned to do everything I had done before, but without pulling on that arm or shoulder when I lifted her.
Which brings me back to where I started this post. Stuff’s breaking faster and worse than I know how to adapt to now. Susan’s on her back, and when I tried to lift her into a sitting position a couple of days ago, I may as well have jabbed her with a knife.
Susan doesn’t complain, at least not very much. Nowhere near as much as I would. I would complain all the time. I would find new ways to complain. I would make it my primary function.
Susan, on the other hand, just wishes she could make jewelry again. Or get back to work on writing her novel (she’s working on the final chapter). Or drawing with the twins, who seem to have inherited their mom’s creative ability, and go through reams of paper per week.
Susan is fighting, in other words, with grace, courage and strength I could never hope to match.
At the time I married her, I would never have suspected it of her, but Susan has inner reserves I can only call heroic.
Team Fat Cyclist: Fighting For Susan
At the beginning of this year, I put together Team Fat Cyclist: Fighting for Susan for the LiveStrong Challenge in all four event cities (Seattle, San Jose, Philly and Austin), because — as is my way — I wanted to feel like I was doing something. Helping somehow.
Most of you don’t know how much time and thought I put into the “Fighting for Susan” phrase, though. I considered it pretty carefully. “Fighting for Susan” could mean that we’re fighting to help Susan. Or that we’re fighting because Susan can’t. Or that we are fighting in her place. Or as a tribute to her. I meant — and mean — all of those things.
But when I look back at what Susan’s gone through and how she is — in spite of everything that has happened and is happening to her — the same wife, mother, friend, and creative force she has always been — I realize something.
We can all fight for Susan, but there are very few of us — not me, certainly — who could ever fight like Susan.
Still, it’s definitely worth fighting. And if enough of us fight with even a fraction of the tenacity my wife has shown, someday maybe we’ll get to pick a different battle. Hopefully, before our twins are old enough to worry about this disease.
Thanks for fighting with us. And for us.

My New Running Partner

As promised, here is my new running partner.



I should add that I did not want a dog. My roommate just moved out with her two dogs and I DID NOT want a dog. I liked the idea of being dog hair and bark free and just being with my cats. I do love dogs, I just did not want one of my own right now.



Then this puppy shows up outside my work and plops down in front of my car. And stays. All day. I tried to ignore him, but at the end of the day as he lay panting in the Texas sun, I could not do it anymore. Especially not after he crawled on his belly to me to get some water. He had a collar but no tags, but I was still certain that someone would claim him. Numerous calls, online posts, and newspapers ads over the last two weeks have turned up nothing so I guess he is mine.



We are not quite up to running yet, but we do go on long walks. A vet looked at him and while I thought by his size he must be at least 5 months, it turns out he is only about 10 weeks. This means that he is going to be roughly the same size as my horse, but we will deal with that when the time comes. I have a big yard and friends that have dogs so he has lots of puppies to play with. He is a lot of work, but I think in the long run, he will be worth it. Unless he goes after my tennis shoes again. :)

Training...and Not Training

How to have a blast and train for a Triathlon:
We went to the lake this weekend where my next triathlon is going to be held and took my brothers new boat out. In between tubing and drinking beer, I would occasionally hop out and swim laps around the boat or if boat traffic allowed, try to swim to shore. In my mind, this has been the best swimming practice I have ever had. The water is warm and comfortable and I think this will be a really easy and fun swim.

How NOT to train for a Triathlon:
We also had a large trailer full of hay to unload this weekend. My job is to stand on top of the stack and throw down bales to people to stack inside the barn. I have always had a fear of falling off the top of stack, but in years of doing this, have never done so…until Sunday. I knew from the beginning it was not going to be a good day because I constantly kept falling in-between the bales because they were not stacked very tightly together. I recovered the first two times….the third time I was just too close to the edge and went tumbling off the side. Luckily, we had removed the first two layers so it was not nearly as tall as it could have been, however I did manage to fall on the bottom rail of a gate. I am bruised and sore, but very grateful it was not worse because it could have been very easily.

In other news, I have a new running partner. He is just getting into shape so we will work up to running, but it is going to be fun and really motivate me. Details to follow soon!!

Picture Diary

Instead of whining about what I have not been doing lately (training) I decided to show you what else I have been doing.


My garden is growing and very happy! I have about a 2 a day zucchini habit so I am thrilled at how well my plants are producing!


I am so ready for these little guys to be done cooking! I am guessing that I have about 30 watermelons growing on the vines right now. There is a small chance I may have planted too many, but I can live on watermelon in the summer.


This is the bobcat formerly known as Robert Thomas. He was a bobkitten I rescued him from some idiots when he was about 2 days old. I bottled fed him every 3 hours for two weeks before my hometown vet agreed to take him as she already was raising one and had a special license to keep them. His name is now Butterball and he is close to 50 lbs. He has a huge enclosure and has three brothers and sisters to play with. I get to visit him every once in awhile but he is much more aloof and still has enough wild in him that he scares me just enough to be cautious around him.


I got to drive this!! My brother has gotten into collecting Army trucks and they are pretty cool. They are huge and loud and I have not figured out exactly what they are good for, but he loves them. He almost has enough that we could form our own militia.

More pictured to come. I am watching the 2008 Ironman championships and it is really getting me in the mood for triathlon. It is a good thing because I have one in THREE weeks! Yikes!

Tired

I am tired. I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off and not getting anything done or at least not anything done right. I had such big plans for this summer. I had races planned at least twice a month and this was going to THE summer for me. Life has interrupted those plans. Between the horses, teaching riding lessons, gardening, and trying to have a life; my training has fallen by the wayside. It has come to that point where it is just another thing on my checklist of things I have to get done. My house is a freaking disaster and I just try to stumble past the mess to get in my bed and forget about it all. This is me whining. Lots of people do a lot more each day and have kids and all sorts of things they get done...but I am not one of those people right now.

I started doing all of this because I wanted another hobby. One that was fun and that I enjoyed. Right now it is a chore. So, I am making the decision that I am going to go back to having fun. This means I am cutting back on the number of races I was planning on doing and only doing the ones that are really important to me. I am going to do them because I want to and not because I think I have to.

My midyear resolutions:

1)I am going to quit stressing about not running fast enough or often enough and just go. No times, no watches, no worries.

2)If I do a race and finish last.....it won't be the first time and it will not take away from the event itself.

3)I am going to recognize that a bike ride does not have to be 40 miles to be significant.

4)I am going to swim and not worry about how large my butt is, but instead pretend I am a seal and focus on how nice it feels to cut through the water after being at work all day.

I have a feeling changing my thinking is going end up moving my workouts higher on my priority list because they will be things I want to do instead of feeling like I have to do it. I just have to remember some times why I wanted to do this in the first place.

For the Love of a Bicycle

I started riding bikes about 5 years ago because of a boy. Not to chase after one, but to get one out of my head. I was 23, young, dumb, had been dumped by my first serious boyfriend in a move I never saw coming. I wandered in a haze of sadness for months before deciding it was time to find something to occupy my life. I had the horses of course, but as I was working at a barn at the time, there was still free time left I needed to fill.

On a whim, I loaded up my fathers Target Eddie Bauer bicycle in my car one weekend when visiting my parents. The bike was a touring bike that weighed about 800 lbs but at that point, I did not know any better. Actually, I really knew nothing except that riding my bike the 8 miles to the barn and back in the middle of a Texas summer made me feel tired but alive. I would be gasping for breath and sweating, but I was doing something.

Probably two weeks in, I decided I wanted to ride in the Hotter N Hell 100 in Wichita Falls. I had done this ride as a child with several of my family members and always viewed it as the absolute center of everything that was bicycle. I had a few months before the ride so I just kept pedaling and started building up some endurance.

Somewhere in the middle of this, I met another cyclist who was a “real” rider. I showed him my bike and looking back at it now, I have no idea how he kept a straight face as he looked at the monster I was riding. He did make some comment about how heavy it was but in my ignorance, I had no idea what the problem was with that. He also did not laugh at me when I made comments about how outrageously expensive bike shorts at Academy were for $30. I was shocked when he told me I could get a good entry level bike for about a grand. Seriously? Bikes were a hundred bucks at Wal-Mart. Silly boy.

Long story short, I ended up doing the 50 mile race with one of my brothers and was ignorantly blissful as I chugged along on my clunker and wished at the end I had signed up for the 100K. I was thrilled and could not wait for the next year.

What began because the ending of a love started a whole new one and in so many ways, a much healthier one. Horses will always come first as far as hobbies go, but I love the simplicity of bikes. They don’t get their feelings hurt if you don’t see them for a few days and they are always there for you when you need to blow off some steam, enjoy a beautiful day, or just be. In many ways, bicycles really saved my sanity and for that, I will always be grateful.