It's been a year.

One year ago I was at the beginning of a great adventure.  An adventure that changed everything.

The preparation for it began two years earlier than that, but one year ago I met up with 31 women in San Diego and we embarked on a great journey.  We rode bicycles across the United States on the Southern Tier route.

We were a group of women from six countries and all walks of life.  We were tall and short, young and old, thin and fat.  We had varying levels of fitness, skills and experience.  And there we were, all in one place to do one thing.

Little did we know.....

Whatever we had expected and/or hoped for paled in comparison to what we actually experienced.  It was everything and nothing that we had expected.  And it turned out that the riding wasn't even the most important part.  It was the journey and the people that turned out to be most significant.  

Thirty-two women and not a shrinking violet in the bunch.  All of us successful and competent in our lives.  And yet......all of us with some level of trepidation.  All (or at least most) of us wondering "What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?"  

Mostly strangers to start with, we began to become a group, even a family of sorts - and we all know what families are like.  In the beginning we focused on the riding and the logistics of a big tour and people began to sort out into groups of similar skill and riding styles.  As we moved along, and changed roommates every night, the pairs and groups morphed and shifted as situations changed.  Sometimes the groupings were riding related, sometimes they were focused on common interests, like COFFEE, or ice cream, or hobbies.  Sometimes everyone got along and sometimes not so much.  But no matter what, we were in it together.

We learned how to read cue sheets, and how to change tires.  We learned how to manage when the cue sheet and the road didn't match up (where DO those road signs hide?).  We learned to find food in some rather unpromising places and we learned not to be bashful about using the "green room" in the absence of indoor plumbing.  We learned to help each other and encourage each other and support each other. We learned how to seek support, comfort and advice from others and we learned how to eke out some "alone time" when needed.  We learned what out bodies will do, and sometimes what they won't.

We also learned how to appreciate people who have differing strengths and weaknesses than we do and we learned how to share our strengths with them.  Some of us found friendships that continue to develop as time goes on.  Some of us will do other tours, others have had enough.  We all grew and changed with this experience, each of us in a different way.

Thirty-two women, each one on her own tour but all of us in it together.  It was magical.

Winter

Winter.

I've always loved it, enjoyed it, reveled in its joys.

But now?  I'm tired of it.  

I've lived in places like Winnipeg where the first snowflake to fall in November is the last to melt in May.  I've lived in places like Ft. Huachuca, AZ where snow is a rare treat and the cause for much excitement.  I've even lived in Hawaii where there is snow on the peaks of the volcanoes but mostly winter means more rain and fewer flowers.  And I've loved all of them.

But I moved here because I didn't want what I could do and where I could go as an 80 year old to be determined by how much snow I could shovel.  Usually, our winters are relatively mild, with that nice polite snow that covers the lawns but melts on the streets and sidewalks.  Cold, but not so much that you feel like a two year old in a snowsuit when you go outdoors.  And then, once every ten years or so, we get a "real" winter like this one.  Snow, and more snow.  Cold, and then colder.  Gloomy, dark days instead of our more typical sunshine.  

And it doesn't even get that right.  We seem to alternating between snow and rain, gloom and sunshine, cold and unseasonably warm in wildly oscillating variation.  My brain and my body are very confused.  That I can ride my bike in 65F temps one day and it doesn't even get above 28F the next doesn't compute in anyone's definition of winter.

I am more than grateful that I don't have to deal with this as a matter of course.  I am glad that this isn't "normal" for us.  I do occasionally wish that we had the infrastructure to deal with this kind of weather, but glad I don't have to pay the kinds of taxes that support it.  I love knowing that it will be of limited duration and that spring will inevitably come.  I grudgingly admit that I will be complaining of the heat in August and September.

But right now?  I'm grumpy and hard to get along with.  I need some sunshine.

Beginning.......again

I don't really make resolutions each year, but I am thoughtful about beginning a new year and all that it might bring.


In the spirit of "begin as you mean to go on" I did ride my bike on New Year's Day - only 5 miles, but a ride nevertheless.  It started out nicely, considering the cold, but then I turned into the wind and started to rethink the whole thing.  One of the things that changed about me after the tour is that I now only ride a bike for FUN.  And snotsicles just aren't all that much in the way of fun.  So.  Five miles will have to do until it gets a bit warmer, and the way it's been the past few days, that may take a while.

I've also done a bit of the other kind of spinning and will soon be able to ply some new yarn to play with.  My favorite thing to spin is silk but that is hard to do with winter-dry hands so I'm sticking to wool until the humidity goes up a bit.  Like the temperature, that might take a while.  Kim the Magnificent has helped me start getting my fiber studio in order so I can spend some quiet times up there exploring my creativity.

Another big revelation from the tour is that I really like feeling slimmer and stronger, so that will be another focus - getting more exercise and paying more attention to what I put in my mouth.  Still very much a work in progress.

In support of all of the above, I am trying to be more mindful of what I do and how I think and whether or not it is serving my better self.  I want to put more time and effort into the things that I value most, which means I need to be more mindful of what I am doing or not doing to further that.

To make my environment more relaxing and supportive, I need to pay attention to clutter and mess and realize what that takes away from my enjoyment of my home.  To make my brain more agile and active, I need to pay more attention to the activities that occupy time without providing any payoff. To maintain nourishing relationships, I need to make sure I am doing the things that let them thrive - to be more generous with my time and attention.

And finally to make sure I can live the life I want to as I age, I need to devote more care to nourishing and maintaining my body and my mind - I can no longer afford the careless attitudes of youth that say "one more cookie" or "one more drink" or "let's just forget the dental appointment" or "my blood pressure isn't that high" don't matter and don't have consequences.

In youth we are blissfully unaware of just how few chances we get to do it right.  There always seems to be time to take corrective action.  As we age, we realize that the time has come, regrets don't change the present and all that we have is the 'right now' to manage as best we can.

 So here's a toast to making the moments matter.

Neglect

Neglect seems to be a theme in my life lately and this blog is no exception - time to dust out the corners, vacuum up the spider webs and get back to spinning my life story.

Though I haven't been writing much lately, I have been doing a lot of thinking and cogitating.  The tour is one of those watershed moments where "before" and "after" are rather sharply demarcated.  So re-evaluating and readjusting my life were very much on my mind and it has been a quagmire of sorts, trying to figure out what I need to do, what I want to do and how much of it is under my control.

Some parts of my life were rather neglected in the intensity of my preparations for the bike tour - I almost forgot how to knit a sock, the spinning wheels and spindles have collected dust, and while Kim the Magnificent has kept my house in spit and polish order, the outside of the house and the yard were really deteriorating fast.

So.  The demolished carport was replaced by a shiny new one, a deck has been added to make going in and out of the back door easier and safer (standing on icy concrete steps while trying to open the door, hang on to grocery sacks and maneuver around the dog was a scary proposition).  The trim and soffits have been repaired and replaced with vinyl and aluminum without losing any of the details or charm of the original wood trim - I was holding my breath, but my contractor did a great job.  The yard has been cleaned up - bushes trimmed, stumps removed, pruning done.  Looks like someone who cares lives here now.

My fiber pursuits have been asserting themselves again, with two baby blankets and three pairs of socks off the needles recently and two sweaters waiting in line.  I haven't fully integrated spinning back into the rotation yet, but it's coming.  And sometime in the next couple of weeks, Kim and I are going to tackle the attic and finallyfinallyfinally get it organized so I can move around and work efficiently.  Once the looms are set up, my friend Jane has promised to come help me relearn how to weave - anyone want a dish towel?

The last thing I need to do is take myself in hand and take care of my health.  Weeks of heat, followed by weeks of rain have slowed down my biking to almost nothing. I need/want to get back to the kinds of miles I was doing before the tour, whether I have riding companions or not, whether this is my preferred kind of riding or not.  Just DO it.  I've also gotten caught up on all those not fun, but necessary screenings and treatments that make sure I don't die of something preventable or treatable.   Flu shot, shingles vaccine, blood pressure maintenance and screening tests are all done now.  I am in good health but I could be in excellent health if I worked at it a bit, so that is what I plan to do.

And just to get things kicked off in the right direction, tomorrow morning I will be sending in  my registration to WomanTours for the Atlantic Coast tour in spring of 2015.

Fall in Missouri, Maple trees on fire.

New Trim - bird proof/wasp proof

New deck, to be painted when the wood cures.

Moving into Fall - finally.

The deck is done.

 And I'll be able to paint it as soon as the wood cures.

The trim is done.

And should be maintenance free for like, EVER.

My allergic reaction/asthma flare is over.

My husband's burns are healing rapidly.

So.  I am on my way to New Mexico and Texas to visit family.  I'm hoping for a nice trip, maybe a little cycling, a lot of hugs and good times.  By the time I get back it should be perfect cycling weather in Missouri.

More Fun on a Bike

In spite of blistering heat and one week of non-stop rain, the Fun on a Bike program continues.  It's small, but keeps adding members one at a time.  It is such a thrill for me to be able to share what I know and what I love about cycling.

After the rains stopped

It's also fun to make new friends who enrich my life, widen my experience and reward me with smiles because they are having Fun on a Bike.

Back in business - the long version

After the tour, my fingertips were quite numb.  All my fingers and just the tips.  My instinct was to blame it on injuries from a head on car collision more than 20 years ago.  In the crash ( I was driving) I was kind of wrapped around the seat belt with my left side receiving most of the forward momentum.  My neck and shoulder were painful for a loooong time and triggered many a severe migraine.  I did everything I could to prevent/ameliorate that pain - mostly by trying to prevent any movement that made it feel like my neck was going to simply break in half and my head would fall off.  Stiff neck?  I had it.  I cultivated it.

Over the years I learned many ways to stretch and massage my neck and shoulder to make it somewhat more flexible and relieve the tension.  And when I started riding a bike, I was very very careful to find ways that would keep my neck and shoulder from tightening up and causing pain and/or immobility.  My whole bike setup was geared toward that and I thought I had been pretty successful.

But one day as the tour crossed into Arizona, not just my neck and superficial shoulder muscles were tightening up, but also the muscles that ran underneath my shoulder blades.  The whole left side of my chest was tight and getting tighter, making it difficult and painful to ride.  And that's when Carla the Wonderful entered my life.  Carla was a fellow rider and is a physical therapist from Brazil.  As I joined a group of riders under an underpass on the shoulder of I-10, I asked Carla if she could help me.  Her magical fingers worked their magic and I was able to ride another 30 miles or so that day.  A few days later, after another aborted ride, we were roommates and she showed me ways to stretch the tight muscles and then get them moving into better positions.  She saved my trip.



When I got home, I asked my doctor for a referral to a physical therapist who specialized in geriatric sports medicine.  He checked my medication list for side effects, sent some blood for B vitamin levels and referred me to a sports medicine doctor.  The sports medicine doc checked for carpal tunnel, elbow issues and thoracic outlet syndrome, and since I didn't appear to have any of those, HE sent me to physical therapy.

I have been going for about 8 weeks now and I have most of the sensation back in my fingertips.  We have worked on stretching out all those muscles I had put into "protect the neck at all costs mode', and strengthening the opposing muscles.  I have gained strength and fexibility in my shoulders and a wider range of motion - my posture is better and I think I might even be taller.

So, back to the handle bars.  The trekking (butterfly) handlebars were chosen specifically to give me a more upright posture and more hand positions on the bike.  They worked to a point, but my hands were usually flat on the bars with thumbs pointing at each other.  Getting a different hand position meant moving them out to a width wider than my shoulders.  Clearly, they weren't the final solution, but what was?

I'll spare you the details and frustrations, but finally I have gotten a setup that I think will improve my postion on the bike and preserve all the progress I have made with my international crew of physical therapists. 

This is how the handlebars look now.  Bullhorn bars upside down and flipped backward with bar end shifters modified to be thumb shifters.







And this is the new hand position.  Hands at shoulder width, elbows flexed, shoulders and neck relaxed.  I did have some hand numbness on my 20 mile ride this morning, and I will probably fiddle around with the positions of the components, but I think this is going to work.