Thai baby!

Soon after I made the decision to train for the century ride in Tahoe, I knew I wasn't going to be able to do this by myself, I would need help. I knew that the staff of LLS was there to help me with fundraising, and that the coaches were there to get me trained, and that the mentors were there to fill in the cracks and keep me headed in the right direction. I also knew that in addition to training for the ride, I needed to get more fit. So, I enlisted the help of a personal trainer. I work out once a week with him and a small group of like-aged ladies, we get good workouts in and have fun at the same time.
Now, I also, know myself very well, and I know I am more than a bit of a klutz, so remaining injury free was through all of this was going to be a bit of a challenge. So, I enlisted the help of a wonderful, beautiful, talented, gentle-spirited Buddhist massage therapist. He has kept me stretched out and my muscles from getting too angry at me from all of the new work I am asking them to do. When I took a tumble off my bike in March, I increased the frequency of my visits from once a month, to every other week. He has patiently worked on the separation of my shoulder (acromioclavicular joint), as well as all of the old crepitis in my neck, ankles and hips.
Rick practices Thai massage. It is really deep work, not for everybody, by 'mybody' really takes well to it. It is sometimes called "Thai yoga massage" and uses muscle compression, joint mobilization, acupressure and yoga like stretches. It is hard for me to describe, but I usually finish the sessions feeling relaxed, a little out of it, but very energized.
After my session today, I found that my shoulder had much more range of motion, and was far less tender than it was the last time Rick worked on it. I am finding that I am getting far fewer leg cramps, and that while my back and shoulders still get tired and sore towards the end of my long rides, each time the discomfort is less than the time before. While part of me wants to say that Rick is a miracle worker, he isn't. He works hard, he knows his stuff, and is able to put his knowledge of the anatomy and his craft to use, and he knows how to best help me. He has provided a safe, relaxing environment. I go into his space, wound up from work, tired, hurting, frustrated with my life, fed up with being pulled in too many directions at one time, with too many things to think about, and way too many things that need to be done. I smell the incense, feel the warmth of the heated pad on the floor where we work, and I find, that when I enter that space, I can allow everything to go away, and I can just ... ... be. And perhaps that, being able to just 'be' is what is making the shoulder more mobile and all of the other improvements to keep happening.
So, my damaged shoulder was able to do a 60 mile ride in the Northwest corner of CT last Saturday, and is looking forward to doing the 65 mile 'Cookie ride" this Saturday.

Good stuff

It's all good. I have said that a million times, heard it a million times, but this time, it seems to really be true. Sure, there is 'stuff' everywhere, in my life and in yours I am sure that is not so good, but overall, the big picture is pretty darned fine.
Last Saturday we did our 49.8 mile ride, against a stiff headwind, which hit us going and coming (how is this possible?). At times, it became a sidewind, which just about blew me off the road and I am no lightweight.
This week, because of our lovely New England weather, and my work schedule, I opted to do the long ride on my own on Friday. Now, I am sure my ride was not as physically challenging as the team ride will be on Sunday, but this was really the first ride I have taken alone, of any distance, and of course on the road. I looked over the routes we have done on the group rides, and I wanted to stay on familiar ground, and of course I wanted to avoid big intersections, and I wanted to only go on roads with good shoulders and after looking at the maps and knowing the roads the way I do, I figured I would end up going up and down my driveway for 55 miles. Knowing that I need to get over my hangups about biking on the road, I set out.
At first, I missed the group calling out the obstacles...there was no one yelling "Grate", "Gravel", and if I yelled it and pointed at the obstacle, no one repeated it after me. It felt like one hand clapping. After a bit, I started to enjoy the quiet. The cars going by were few and far between (morning rides are great), a huge red-tailed hawk landed in a tree right off the road, while there was enough going on around me so I had to keep focused, there was also some time for me to let my mind wander a bit.
My route wandered out to Collinsville, and then up Route 44... had to make a major left hand turn onto route 44.. it took me a minute of sitting on the side of rt 179 before I got up the nerve, but I did it. From there, I went up by Ski Sundown and around the reservoir, back down and back to Collinsville. From there, I came back through Farmington, and did a loop around by the farm, down West Avon Road, around Avon a bit and when I realized I was going to be short by about 10 miles, I went back to Collinsville, trying to make better time on the hills. I did have hills, and like I said, I know my route was not as challenging as the Team will ride tomorrow, but sometimes the mental challenges we face are more significant than the physical ones.
I know that if I am faced with a hill, if worse comes to worse, I can just put my head down and try to power through it, my body can do it. But can my head? Right now, after doing 'my' 52.8 mile ride on my own, the answer is YES. My head can do it too.

What goes up, must, eventually come down.

The laws of physics, we all remember them from our high school days. Physics, gravity... a body in motion tends to stay in motion... what goes up must come down. Last Saturday, our 45 mile ride included route 219. I was actually excited about the thought of the hill, and I thought about how I was going to approach it, how I would gain some momentum at the bottom and when I would drop into my lowest gear, and how I would little by little keep myself going. They say that confession is good for the soul, well, then, I must confess. I have the confidence to know that I can make it up just about any hill that comes my way, but the thought of going down makes me really, really, really scared! While others may get off their bikes and walk up some of the hills, I am afraid I will be walking my bike down the hill!
I have been thinking that I am being irrational, and I tried to figure out just what it is that scares me. Is it the fear of being out of control, or not being able to stop, or of hitting some uneven pavement or crack in the road and taking a header over the handlebars? I have no answer.
The hill came into view shortly after turning off of route 20. There it was in all of it's glory. This devious piece of geography. Devious, because you go up and up and up, and then you think you are done and you go up some more. You feel like you are never done. I kept my mind busy by noticing debris on the side of the road. A beer can, a cigarette package, a stone, one thing at a time, just pedal to that next thing. Finally, after one last effort, I found the road and myself going down. I have to admit a few expletives went through my mind. I don't think I said any out loud, if I did, please forgive me.
One cycling friend told me to sit up, that it would slow me down. I did that. My massage therapist told me to channel my inner 12 year old, I tried to do that. I tried to call out the girl that used to love to take her Flexible Flyer to the sledding hill, or the 14 yr old that used to run her horse at a full gallop across the hay field. Where was she??? Where did she go??? Helllloooo inner child, come out, come out wherever you are! Nothing. Typically, I try to repress my inner kid, keep her in check. I really have tried to mature over the last few years, I have decreased the frequency with which I play practical jokes on my co-workers and we won't even talk about some of the pranks I have pulled at Tyler's baseball games on the other parents. Now that I want that kid to come out and allow me to go down the hill at breakneck speed, I can't find her! I took it easy, I played it safe. I stayed within the comfort zone of the 'mature' adult that I have become. While I didn't get off the bike and walk down, I surely didn't let my little bike computer get up much over 24-25 mph. Pretty good I thought, until I hear "on your left' and zoom and then zoom again. I guess Jen and Ev sure don't have a problem finding their inner kids. Despite my slow and controlled descent, I am thrilled and proud that I made it up the hill without stopping. I kept my pace, and my oh-so-slow cadence. My strategy for going up was a success, my plan for coming down, while not exactly perfect, did help my confidence. Maybe with our next ride, my inner kid will show up and say "Wheeeeeeee" as we fly down a big hill.

A special thanks to our road angels! And a very, very special thanks to everyone who has contributed to my fund raising. The many people that stepped up have touched my heart!

thanks!
Karen

Lets begin at the beginning.

It all started with that little pamphlet I got in the mail. I ignored it the first couple of times it showed up, then it came a third time, and I read it. I tossed it away like the first couple that came, and then it showed up a 4th time, and only a couple of weeks after Tyler, my youngest, set off to college. So, I read it and I figured I could go to the meeting to find out more info. The pamphlet, was from the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and it went on and on about being part of a team, and doing athletic events and that they would train me for said events.

Now, there are plenty of groups out there raising money for cancer research and to help patients, but leukemia has always been something that has been close to me. I can remember being a Med Tech intern in Rochester, NY and I can actually tell you the name of the young man (Gary) that showed up in the ER one day with a really (really, really) high WBC. He was in his young 30's (that seemed old from my perspective -- I was 22 at the time), he was a new dad, and he ended up being one of the first bone marrow aspirations that I assisted on. The years rolled by, and I became a 'seasoned' med tech. Day after day, smear after smear, I look at the blood cells from leukemia/lymphoma/myeloma patients and I think "Damn, here is another one". On one level, the science nerd in my loves looking at the cells. They can be so beautiful, big, dark, blue, smooth chromatin, but they also have a 'stormy' or 'angry' look to them, and that sets them apart from the normal cells we see. Every time I see a smear from a leukemia patient, I am taken back to the first patient diagnosed on 'my watch'. And, although treatments have improved and changed, things are still very much the same.

I am tired of it. Not tired of the work, I do love what I do, if I didn't I surely wouldn't have spent the last 30+ years doing it. I am tired of seeing the number of patients that are falling ill to this set of cancers. Adults, children, young, old, men, women etc... the list goes on. I have had friends, and family members affected. And, in all honestly, I am tired of looking at the cells and then moving on to the 'next slide'.

So, I am doing something about it. In November, I joined Team in Training, the largest fundraising arm of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I am going to be riding in a Century Cycling event, in Lake Tahoe, NV. I have met some wonderful folks to train with, and some real Heroes who are inspiring me to keep pedaling. To date my fundraising has netted $5,150, and I am not quite done yet. My legs... have pedaled the first few of our training rides and there are many more to come.

Stay tuned for the many 'tales' there are sure to be from the rides!

Namaste!

Karen