Pondering Pandora's Box

My day started by having a very long conversation with Jon about training strategies. I need to think about my motivators and goals for the coming season. Riding across the country is just the icing on the cake. Training has been tough lately, too much life in the way, not enough motivation to put life aside when I am exhausted. We really hammered out the goals for the next event I have in mind. I plan on skating ice marathons this year. Matter of fact, I am passionate about rekindling this part of my life. The way I see it, skating will hold my leg strength and endurance for the heavy training I have to do in the spring and it will provide the change of pace to keep me going.

The next part of my day was spent at the funeral mass of Roseanne's father. While sitting in this place that used to be so familiar to me I found myself reflecting on the events that caused that door to shut. It was like meeting a long lost love in the street. You still feel something but you are thrust back into that confusion of everything that was wrong. This reflection was eventually reduced to forms and simple emotions. I found the thread for the next concentration of studio work. Ever wonder what the evils were in Pandora's Box?

On my way home from church, I scouted a route that I had planned to take today. It is a difficult route that has a bit of everything, several long and steep climbs, several miles of flats and lots of rolling; 100, Whitehall Corners, Moseman, Pines Bridge, Mahopac Ave, Granite Springs Rd...Of course we will throw in procrastination too.

So I embark on my ride. Why is it that I really look forward to riding, then procrastinate, then rework the root when I finally get underway? I must have argued about my choice of Moseman and Mahopac Aves since the climb on 100. I knew they were going to fry my legs, and after that little stunt yesterday chasing down Jon and sitting on his wheel before blowing by him, my legs were toast already. Today I did manage to convince myself that I needed to stay the course or my goals would be compromised. The ride was of no consequence, the hills hurt, but I expected that so somehow they weren't as bad as I thought they would be. The only real story to tell was that I managed to get scolded by a cop for riding on the road. Yes, you heard me right. I was threatened with a ticket if I didn't comply with his order to ride to the right of the rumble strip in the shoulder. Interestingly enough, there were cones set along the white line to provide a safe lane for pedestrians leaving Muscoot. He was there directing traffic. The pedestrian lane was chock full of people, had I traveled in it I risked hitting someone. So I jumped out of the cut in the rumble strip and rode at the extreme right of the lane of travel. I am still shaking my head about this encounter.

I did some reminiscing while riding. I found myself steeped in nostalgia while riding up Moseman Ave. For some reason I was pulled back to my Freshman year in HS when I spent the fall raking leaves with AFS. Funny, Roseanne's sister-in-law was instrumental in that club fundraiser. I also thought of how much that neighborhood had changed in the past 25 years. Its so built up and it looks like they leveled one whole side of the ridge to make a new development. As I pondered new construction in this market of the mini-mcmansion glut I wondered if that waste continues to be a contributing factor in our economic woes. We can't sell what is available so build new bigger, better, greener? This got me thinking about the recycling of a house. In the next few minutes I passed the homes of my children's friends that used to be the homes of my childhood friends. Then there were the couple of houses that used to be restaurants, then there was the house that used to be a a post-office then a candy store and now is a private home. I found myself drawn, almost too much, to looking for the ghosts of houses in the woods, the hermit caves, the root cellars, the hitching posts that have been repurposed as planters. All in all it was a fantastic day.

in full view of the ridge

Today dawned a lot earlier than I wanted it to, but it was manageable. We started the day in one of our old haunts, The Bakery in New Paltz. A bagel and coffee for the long haul, a pedal along the Shawangunk Wine Trail. I joined Alison, Jon and 18 others as we pedaled in full view of The Ridge (there is definitely some magnetism going on here). Kenny and Jon's wife Samantha patiently drove sag.

The weather was perfect, though a bit windy for my taste. You couldn't have asked for clearer skies, which were so important to the ambiance. There were so many photo opportunities, some we stopped for and some were passed over for more important things. At one point we lost our host, Jim and about 5 riders to a wrong turn. After that was settled we pounded out miles heading towards our third and final winery. OK it started as a friendly pace, then I decided to sit on Jon's wheel challenging him to flick me off. He somehow didn't take the hint to well, so I cranked past him and past the next rider. I was finally caught of course and hurled off the back. I felt like one of the people in the SOAP BOX DERBY RACE (Little Rascals). I still managed accolades from Alison who wanted to know just what got into me. The high five was so worth it!

So the day ended with Pizza from Portofino's (yes we drove all the way home before eating). Anchovies and onions. OK this has a story to it too. I thought Kenny said he wanted anchovies, he said anything but... Nothing a bit of Hurricane Kitty couldn't fix. We ate dinner with Mikey, Lilly, and Justin. Chris was skating. Can you believe Mikey's girlfriend Lilly had never had a Sicilian slice (yes, that pie was plain cheese)? In a word, awesome.

Tomorrow? hmmm ride and slide!

" but that is not why I called" I wanted to say yes it is but...

I'll leave my title at that today as I am betting that the "I don't read your blog" might not be so accurate either. I don't want to dwell on my hurt and disappointment just merely use it as a starting point to my day on the bike. You see, that phone call is what prompted the chain reaction that lead to procrastination that almost cost me my training time and what surprises me is that after I finally got off my butt and out the door and spent 2 hours on the bike I am still just as upset about the exchange.

So where did my adventure take me today? First I ended up at the Harvey School. I wanted to see a bit of Andrew's football game. It was awesome to watch someone you coach on the hamster wheel play an unrelated sport. Even with all that gear on I could still see similar kinetics.

After the game I headed on my way, up through Pound Ridge and back into Cross River eventually ending up on Bogtown Road. I actually left my house with plenty of daylight left, but took the light with me just in case. There was this voice inside of me that was yelling and I knew it could be one of those days like the days when Kenny used to have to fish me out of the pool or I would swim into oblivion. This was a wise decision as I ended my ride in complete darkness. I am amazed at that little headlight, its as if I have a car headlight on my bike, it is that bright. All the time I was riding I was trying to ride out of the hurt I was feeling. There is an importance to friendships, and sometimes taking them for granted eventually burns at both ends.

At one point there was a smell in the air that brought me back to that day, 4 years ago, when I rode CT in memory of Jimmy Arena. This caused my mind to wonder a bit, reminiscing the conditions of that day, and the sound of the birds singing to me when I was at my lowest point in that endeavor. Just then a hawk flew across my path. I am always in awe when this happens. On that note, Roseanne is coming along, though chemo is beating her up pretty badly. The saddest part is that her father, who was diagnosed with cancer a week after her surgery, passed away a few days ago. She didn't get to warn him that the chemo would knock him for a loop. Was this his way of getting her to think about other things than the discomfort? Life has a way of keeping things interesting to say the least. Take this as a segue-way to my choice of pictures today. This area is so steeped in American history. What were the lives of the people that lived in the houses that are nothing more than ghost foundations now? What did those houses look like? Were there kids? Was life hard? There were some pictures I wanted to get, but I was lost in deep thought when I passed those spots, that I simply forgot. On that note, in one shot there is a bit of hidden object going on, can you find them?

My training has taken a bumpy ride lately with teaching, after-school duties, taking care of my mom, and getting ready for a solo exhibition at St Mark's School. I think I'm even nursing a stress fracture. Maybe that is just in my head as I have just changed gears. I am riding less but skating more. I was worried about this until I got on my bike today and felt more fit than I have in a long time. I think the skating is helping the pedaling, though the cycling is not necessarily repaying the favor. Either way, I am enjoying myself and Ryan, if you are reading, Chris has me working out on the slideboard whenever I cannot get out on the road or the ice. Imagine one of your athletes coaching you, its the ultimate honor, especially when its your kid.

Completely unrelated, I did spend part of my ride today trying to figure out how to define my writing. There was no answer there but I guess I can keep that ball up in the air for a bit.

there is something about riding on a crisp fall day, on an oak lined street, with the wind...

showering acorns down like rain, at the rate of 5-10 pelts to the helmet a pedal stroke, of course we were headed up hill too. The ride was a really nice one. Justin and I just got out to enjoy what was left of the day before heading to the Bronx to brake fast. We pass this stream every time we ride this route and each time I think I should stop to take a picture as it is the one place that reminds me of when I was a young child, living in Golden, Colorado. It reminds me of the creek we used to play in. Kenny and I visited that place a few years ago, it was quite interesting to feel the very COLD water I used to splash in rush over my feet. I often wonder if that is why swimming in the ocean in northern Maine never bothered me. In any case, looking at the stream, I found myself wanting to be in the Rockies at this moment today. I think it was because I lost my father 27 years ago today. One of favorite memories of him was when we lived out west. To this day Colorado is etched deeply in my soul.

I spent my morning writing about my current work as an artist. I never get used to writing about work that I have poured my heart and soul into. Its as if I am trying to translate some great story into another language. I have command of the language, but still cannot find the words that are needed. This show is about conflicts and features a series of work that was difficult to contemplate much less sculpt. Details about the exhibition are coming soon.

the mixed up adventures of the flea flicker

Oh wait a minute, I was the one flicked of the train but man did it take a while! I am so happy. We were cruising along at a good clip, I was hanging on and not for dear life either. I was flicked off because I lost my focus and didn't have it in me to jump back on for good.

My day was a whirlwind, I was running late this morning. I had a load in the kiln I thought would be done in time for me to unload so that I could glaze tonight, only to have it still be in a firing cycle, and me in a bit of a panic. I had lesson plans and materials to prepare for tomorrow. I also had plans to ride at 2:15. Oh, and I had to pick up Chris at 4 in Somers a 45 minute drive away.

So the kiln did not finish, the ride never happened and I decided it was high time I head back to New Paltz. It was, after-all Tuesday night. I met up with Jon and Dave for an evening of intervals and pace-line work. We started out by spinning up to Rosendale each of us taking a turn at pulling. For the first time this season I was hanging with the big boys and not dying, at least not immediately. It took being distracted by a car and simultaneously hitting a rise in the road to fall off for good. No worries, we were back in formation and trying to decide our plan in no time (meaning I may have fallen off but I never really lost contact). To think that I almost bagged this effort too as it took me over an hour to get home from work and I was running 10 minutes late to get to NP and knew I still needed gas. I am so glad I didn't miss that.

We eventually got down to business, we did sets of 2 minute intervals. The first set I did, I was without water (accidentally left it in the car) and my HR basically stayed at 173 for each effort, I was stunned that it recovered fully in time for the next effort (equal rest). The second set my HR stayed at 165 and recovered even faster. The efforts felt the same, though the second set felt more comfortable and I was able to stay closer to John and Dave (you guessed it it was a "throw mama from the train" experience).

So I learned that my fitness level has come up a great deal. This was a well timed lesson. Tomorrow, I am off to Elmira for my Uncle John's funeral. It will be a well accepted rest day!

against instinct

My weekend plans were monkey-wrenched on Thursday afternoon. I was plunged into "what are we doing", "when are we going", "can I still go upstate?" The scenario played out with a waiting game for arrangements, which was fine, when all is said and done, I needed this weekend to sure up some obligations seeing that I will be out of town twice. Yesterday I spent 12 hours or so in my studio. I got a whole bunch of work done and after writing this, before I leave for Shelton, I will pack up my pots and get them ready to haul to the kiln.

Today the weather was gorgeous. I got myself back into that training groove by heading out on my bike, and despite not really wanting to be away from the MUD in my studio, I forced myself to get into it. Funny, I was grumbling about everything, route, length of time, my shorts, you name it, I had a problem with it. About 2 miles out I came to a intersection full of commotion. I was about to enter a race, the Westchester Toughman. This was so strange, as I didn't want to interfere yet I was determined to ride the route I had finally settled on. I picked up my cadence and held myself in the group. It was weird to have someone yell at me to hydrate and try to hand me gatorade as if I should be grateful for their presence. I just wanted to ride, not be accosted by a woman with an electrolyte fix. So I took evasive action and blew her off and hammered up the mile climb in front of me. I passed 6 guys on $10K+ bikes with the fashion to match and was passed by two twiggy girls who were only just behind me to begin with. I suck at climbing so this was thrilling! Over the top and down the other side, blowing by the two women and a few more guys I was wishing that I had actually done this race, even if it had been as a relay. I saw no other ATHENA classed women- though I am sure they were out there. I ambled along with them for about an hour and was really happy to nail 21 miles in that time and my HR was not even maxed out.

I finally decided to leave the comfort of blowing through intersections and having people cheer me on to get my workout done within the proper objectives. I doubled back towards the trail, and made my way up to Carmel from the crossing near 100 and 118. Let me tell you, racing was more comfortable than the obstacle course I had just gotten myself into. It was a crisp, clear, fall day in the 70's after 2 days of rain. You can only imagine what that next 15 miles looked like. I dodged kids, old men stopping in the middle of the trail, dogs of every kind, women swinging their arms, a group of 3 really overweight women on inlines. I don't want to sound derogatory here, I am very happy that they are out there giving it there all and having a blast exercising, and would love to see them join us on the ice, but when you are cruising along a a good clip and they are taking up the WHOLE trail and are very out of control and very off balance by the apparently heavy backpacks they were carrying, well, then you understand that the remark is just meant to be a descriptive one. I arrive in Yorktown and cross Hanover to my sister-in-law turning onto the trail for her run. I was perplexed in a way, I wanted to stay and chat, to turn around and head to her place to see my niece and nephew, to hang out. We talked for what seemed to a good amount of time and then parted ways. I reached Carmel in no time.

I turned right onto Fair Street and headed out towards the farms. I was headed down this hill in a pretty good amount of traffic not realizing how rough the road was until I hit a pothole with enough force to have my left hand have to grab onto my handlebars a lot tighter to stay balanced. I suddenly realized just how people manage to dump themselves end over end. I had inadvertently grabbed the front brake too and felt the rear wheel start to make it's climb up towards my hips. I am not sure what possessed me to go against my instincts here and let go of the break instead of grabbing ahold even tighter. I just learned a major lesson and knew it. There were not light-bulbs but fireworks going off in my head. Disaster averted, I decided at that point to slow things down and cruise home at a recovery pace. I had already put in about 40 miles so what was an easy 6 or so? Now, off to some quality ice time as a skater instead of a coach.

Rough schedule this week. Hope I can pull off a decent training week.

Running Late

I hate being late! I have always hated it. Being late causes PTS symptoms for me as I had to sit, sometimes for hours, waiting for my mother to come pick us up. It causes me a ton of stress now when getting 6 people out the door in time for anything almost never happens. I was reading my friend Matt's blog and felt I needed to respond to his question "Where were you when?"

That morning, I took Kenny's car to school. I was running late, the whole family was running late. Kenny put Chris on the bus and walked to the train. Chris's bus was late too and Kenny missed his usual train. This was one of those mornings that I hated dealing with. Everyone needed things at the last minute, homework signed, notes for things, lunch money, help finding shoes, and some random item that needed to be purchased from an obscure store but was volunteered and promised in good faith to a teacher but not disclosed until 5 minutes before departure. As I was driving to school I remember thinking that I should call Kenny and ask him if he wants to take his car into the city. I was late already so what would another 5 minutes be to turn around and switch cars, but I didn't.

I arrived at school and settled into a color theory lesson with sixth graders. It was somewhere in the middle of that lesson that I was interrupted by the principal who decided it was necessary to announce with a very monotone voice that there had been a plane crash into the towers. I remember thinking how surreal that announcement was. Surely she was talking about a small plane? I tried to call Kenny to see what was going on. No answer. The principal announced again that a second AIRLINER had crashed into the other tower...and I lost my composure. I needed to know that Kenny was not beneath the towers getting off the train. I called again, no answer.

At some point I was ushered into a small TV studio, I watched in horror as the towers collapsed. I distinctly remember just before this happened Katie Couric saying that people didn't seem to concerned on the ground, that traffic was still moving, people were still walking...I remember being nauseated, lightheaded, and needing to leave school. I called Kenny, no answer.

I left school and learned of the whole scope of the morning on the radio. I was scared. I thought we were going to be plunged into a war on our soil. I wanted my kids, and I wanted my husband, and I wanted to be together in one place.

I arrived home to the phone ringing, it was Andrea, an engineer at Kenny's firm. She wanted to tell me that she had managed to get a hold of Kenny and that he was OK. He never made it out of Grand Central. He had missed the last train downtown by minutes. He was trying to get home.

I called the HS that Justin was a Freshman at and let them know that his father was OK. They would happily relay that message. He had been watching this unfold too in his Social Studies class, sitting next to his best friend who found out that his father died by watching a TV broadcast in school. Justin was traumatized.

I called the other schools, all of which agreed to pass on the information if they needed to, they were much more guarded with the news. Dan and Mary came up and got me. We waited at they're house until Kenny made it home. Kenny finally made it home at 4 or so. Thank God we were running late that morning!

For the next 6 months, we dealt with Kenny being gone days at a time to help with the logistics of the clean-up and my brother and brother-in-law dealing with the 12-12 schedule and being on site to oversee the Con-Ed crews at Ground Zero. Not much was said...it is still painful to talk about.

The health problems have not surfaced, though to tell you the truth, they are always on the back burner. Kenny came down with pneumonia 2x in the 2 months following 9/11his doctor thought that he might have cancer. Thank God that it was just the exhaustion and stress that caused him to be run down and get sick. His health has been tracked.

If you really want to know how I feel about the experience, read Art Spiegelman's "In the Shadow of No Towers" (Pantheon,2004) you will capture some of it. I remember last year getting into a conversation with my friend Arnie about the day, and hearing his story of having a 3rd grader in a lower Manhattan School, picking her up and walking home with the heat and the rumble of the collapse noticably at his back, the whole time trying to prevent his daughter from looking back. It still hurts.

So Kenny, I really do hope you enjoy that cigar today, I love you and would be lost without you!