Tornados, Earthquakes, Hurricanes and Nor’easter……Oh My.

It's hard to imagine that little ol'Massachusetts would experience a tornado, earthquake, hurricane and nor'easter all within a span of 4 month time frame but we did.  I wonder what is going on with the weather patterns.  I wonder why mother Earth is so furious.  Why are the vibrations in the Earth are changing so quickly.  Perhaps we need to look beyond ourselves and take a look at the poor habits that we ourselves have developed and embraced.  The genetically modified foods created in labs we unknowingly consume, the convenience of finding fresh fruits and vegetables at the supermarket in any season, fast food, consuming meats and dairy, negating nuts and berries, pumping our bodies full of supplements and vitamins and fueled by energy drinks we spin aimlessly, meaninglessly out of control.

When our children can not identify things such as eggplant, potatoes, tomatoes and carrots it becomes apparently obvious that we have strayed too far from our basic human needs.  When children do not recognize that french fries come from potatoes there is a problem that we need to examine.

With all the damage that has been done to the land around me it is hard not to think about basic survival.  About gardening, animals, habitats, water and our food source.  The most recent disaster that hit us was the freak Nor'easter on October 29th.  We had about 8 inches on snow and lost our electricity for 6 days and nights.  Luckily enough we have 2 fireplaces in our house and had  a cord of wood delivered the week before.  We brought the air mattress into the cellar and placed it in front of the fireplace, so we had heat and were warm.  We brought the camping stove inside and were able to make tea, soup and I even managed to whip up some homemade fish and chips.  There was no TV, no radio, no distractions.  Nothing to take our minds off the very essence of our being.  A time for reflection.  A time of peace.

We had running water but no hot water.  Our toilets flushed which was more than what some people in the neighborhood had.  We were able to take showers at our friends house & at the gym.  I was worried about one thing.  Keeping our food fresh and cold.  On day 2 of the blackout Brian was able to get a small generator to run the fridge which brough me relief.  By day 3 he had found another generator which helped to run a small space heater and a light.  I felt like I was living in the lap of luxury.  By day 4 I charged my laptop and we were able to watch a DVD-Avitar- that night in the basement on the rolly polly airmatress with the  crackling sounds of the fire in the background and the flickering of candlelight surrounding us.  It wasn't all that bad.  Brian and I had time to talk, laugh and survive the darkness together.  I think we may have even found a new level of respect for one another and our ability to keep calm and even thrive in such a vicarious situation. 

By day 5 I picked up a bottle of wine on my way home and I shared it.  Did you hear that?  I said, I shared it!!!  By day 6 Brian was getting restless and that evening the power came back on.  I think he felt compelled to run around the house like a child and turn on every light switch in the house.  We went down to the Admirals to celebrate.  There we were introduced to fellas from Puerto Rico, Jamaica and Antigua who were in town to help with restoration efforts.  We sang together, danced, celebrated and even met the evil Dr. Jagermeister!  We all had fun~IMAGINE that!!!!

Tattoos are Gross!

Growing up my mother didn't have too many rules, in fact there are 3 that ring out in my mind.  First, no tattoos until your 18 and out of my house.  Second, nothing can be pierced except your ears.  Third, don't hang anything on your bedroom wall unless it is framed.

I always thought tattoos were gross.  I thought they were only for bikers, bad boys and hoe's.  As the years went by, my  attitude towards them changed.  Instead of viewing them as some distasteful, god awful, mutilating art form that would some day haunt the mind of it's canvas I thought some of them were quite nice.  Could it be?  Rather, could tattoos be one of the most ancient and beautiful ways to pay homage and respect to the spirit of life? Perhaps a tattoo is not defamation of the body for which I will eternally burn in Hell for after all.

Perhaps a tattoo means a little bit more. I looked at how the Maori of Australia used Ta Moko as an outward expression of respect and commitment.  The design of each moko is unique to the wearer and conveys information about the wearer, such as their genealogy, tribal affiliations, status, and achievements.

How about the Native Americans?  They too used the tattoo to convey special meaning whether it was to honor their tribe, to harness the spiritual energies of their totem animal, to show pride in their tribe, to mark a warrior for his first kill or for the branding, eternal shame.  Tattoos were thought to provide them with supernatural powers and strength.

As time went on I felt the desire to get a tattoo but knowing that it would be on my body forever was still a deterrent.  I knew that I wanted a lotus flower of some sort.  The lotus representing enlightenment within the context of Buddhist Culture was a symbol of my affinity for philosophy and the attainment of enlightenment through meditation and self control.  However, the desire for the tattoo was quickly squashed when the notion of it being  "forever" on my body entered my mind.

About 4 years went by and still I was struggling with this urge for a tattoo.  I came up with a design that I really liked.  It was a lotus flower and the blooms of the flower were also the wings of a Phoenix.  The stem of the flower was also the tail of the bird.  It was a 2 in one.  The Phoenix to me, represented rebirth. According to myth, the phoenix is a bird with a colorful plumage and a tail of gold and scarlet (or purple, blue, and green according to some legends). It has a 500 to 1000 year life-cycle, near the end of which it builds itself a nest of twigs that then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix or phoenix egg arises, reborn anew to live again. The new phoenix is destined to live as long as its old self.  It is reborn from it's old self.

Last year, on July 7, 2010 my Dad passed away.  He had a tattoo on his right bicep.  It was a heart and arrow piercing through it and his name "Jack" in the middle.  He got it was he was 15 in Southbridge.  By the time he was 70 the black ink had faded to a grayish green and his name was barely legible.  To him it was a memory and he never regretted getting it. It made me realize that life is short.  I started to question my own foolish belief system.  Would I really go to Hell if I got a tattoo?  Why do I think this?  Where did this idea come from?  What if, I'm already there? 

After his passing the Phoenix took on even greater meaning.  According to the laws on entropy, scientists say that energy cannot be created or destroyed only transferred or transformed.  The energy in our bodies our soul if you will needs to go somewhere.  I like to think that perhaps we are reborn in someway or that our soul collectively becomes a part of the Universe.

I spoke to Michelle F who I was working with at the time & had several tattoos.  They were nicely done, clean, professional and beautiful.  She recommended an artist in Auburn.  I made an appointment with him and had him draw up my tattoo.  He placed the template on and said "What do you think?  Are you ready?"  I though "No, no, I'm not ready."  I went home with the template in place getting used to the notion that this would be on my body--FOR-EVAH!"  I went home and showed Brian, who by the way, is a tattoo hater and was not supportive of the idea.  When I showed him his eyes lit up and he said "Wow!  That's nice!"  I was very surprised by his reaction.  He said "so when are you getting it done?"  I said "I don't know.  I have to think about it."  So I did.

A couple weeks passed before I decided to make my appointment.  Brian asked me "Do you want me to come with you." and I said "Sure, but if you don't want to come that is okay with me I'll ask a friend to come instead."  He was like "No, I'll go."  "OK" I replied.  So we hopped in his truck and made way for the tattoo parlor.  Once we were there he was getting nervous and then told me he was going to the mall to have my anniversary desk set engraved.  I was like "what?!"  He said "I don't want to see you in pain.  I don't want to see blood."  I was like oh crap, what a jerk, I spent how much time thinking about this and now you're bailing on me.  Oh well, what could I do?  Off he went and there I sat.  The tattoo guy put the stencil on me and I sat in the chair as we listed to TOOL. 

I was told that getting a tattoo would feel a lot like having a sunburn.  Well it really wasn't anything like a sunburn at all.  As he started to tattoo me the pain was more of a prickling sensation than a burning one.  It was more annoying than anything.  Like a sister who wants so sit on your lap when your boyfriend comes over.  He kept going.  I just wanted it to be over, in fact there was a time or two when I just wanted him to stop.  Right when I was about to tell him to stop--for real--he said "there-it's all done"  and all I could think was "thank god."

Many people find the feeling of getting a tattoo enjoyable.  I am not one of those people.  I was concerned about the healing process, I have very sensitive skin and scar easily.  I healed up well, which was a relief for Brian.  There was no blood during the process at least none that I noticed.  The guy was professional and did a wonderful job.  They say that tattoos are addicting, like potato chips you can't have just one.  I am satisfied with my one tattoo and have no plans to get another.  My tattoo stretches from my upper back to the nape of my neck and is only visible when I want it to be.  It is also in a spot that won't stretch much & better yet, it's in a place where I can't see it.  So, if I ever get sick of it, I'll never have to see it.  I love my tattoo.  It represents my own personal journey towards enlightenment and rebirth.  It represents my growing belief system and pays homage to one of the oldest, most basic, elemental forms of art.

Life is short and there is plenty of room for regret.  It is my experience in life that people don't have regret about what they do but what they don't do.  Life is for living so get out of your head and start living.  Commemorate your rebirth and celebrate by getting a Tattoo.  Go see that guy in Auburn, tell him that I sent you.  Maybe then, I'll get a discount on my next one.  CHEERS!

My tattoo:  completed

Warrior Dash 2011

Yesterday I took part in the Warrior Dash.  Whose 3.2 Hellish miles is accurately portrayed on it's website.  http://www.warriordash.com/ 



Joanna and I arrived on site and all we could see were mushroom clouds of smoke and fire balls shooting up from the starting line.  Meanwhile dozens of people were sliding and bouncing their way down a huge mud covered hill towards the finish line as a sea of dirty, rotten, filthy, people walked past us caked in mud from head to toe with smiles from ear to ear .   My first thought was "What the Hell did I sign up for?"  My second thought was this is going to rock!



Joanna and I checked our bag & made our way to the starting line.  There must have been nearly 200 people in our wave alone.  We ran up a huge hill with a 30 degree incline.  Once we arrived at the top- the mud started and it did not end.  Holy schnikey!  I've never seen so much mud!  We were up to our ankles in it, then our knees, then were were slip sliding down the trail over rocks and roots, branches and over the occasional downed tree.  Poison ivy to the left and a pool of thigh deep swamp water to my right. Hmm which way do I go?  Splash!  Squishy mud, at least up to my ankles covered the entire course.  The course was only about 5-6 feet wide and less than that 3  in some areas and mud, muck and maneur (I swear that there was crap up in that field...you know it!)



Then there were the obstacles.  We knew when they were ahead of us because of all the the "DANGER" signs that were posted.  We had to climb over wooden walls that were about 7 feet high then crawl under barbed wire--there were about 6 of these.  Then came a wooden wall that went straight up about 20 feet high that we had to climb up and over using a rope & then scale the ladder down the other side.  We had to cross through tangled ropes, and climb up a suicide hill of death which  made even the big boys whimper.  After that we had to walk across boards like a balance beam, the boards were angled up and down so the chances of slipping off them were great.  I think my mud covered feet helped with my ability to balance.   Wohoo!  There was so much mud that the race director couldn't put the tires down on the ground  because they just would have sunk and someone would have broken a leg for sure so instead they tied the tires from a wooden fixture and we just swung them around back and forth tring to bash the people behind us--all in good fun of course, after all,  this was supposed to be a challenge.   Then we slid down a muddy hill on our butts as if it were a slide in a nearby park.    Once I saw the flaming logs of fire I got so happy and excited.   As the music grew louder I knew the end was drawing near.  I leaped over the first fire pit--shazam!  So, with all my confidence, I decided to do a tuck jump over the 2nd fire pit and raise my hands in the air like a cheerleader.   When I landed the jump, the fireman gave me a dirty look and shook his head.  I'm not sure why, it's not like my underpants caught on fire or anything!  I was just out having a bit of fun, you know covered in mud and manure from head to toe jumping over firey flames of death.  Just having a bit of fun that's all!



From there we ran down the muddy slope and could see the really high cargo net that we had to climb up, over and down.  Hooray almost there. I never knew how many different types of mud existed and how many stages of drying there were.  We climbed up and over and headed towards the hill.  "Stay to the right and you'll go faster" the girl said.  So I slid down the wicked steep, slippery, muddy hill of horror and I'm at the bottom about to stand up when someone shouts "watchout!"  I quickly and skillfully did a barrel roll to my right as the chick behind me came flying down and crashed into the big heaping muddy pile of shit below. 



We jumped and ran through you guessed it... more mud to the final obstacle where we had to crawl like a spider on crack over 3 cargo nets and then run across the finish line!  HOORAY!   Showers? I need a shower, so I follow the signs for the showers.  Well the shower turned out to be a was a giant snowmaking gun!  I ran into the snow making area and got blasted and pelted with wind, hail and rain.  It was like being stuck in the middle of a hurricane with ice pelting your face.  The wind was so fierce I though my contacts were going to blow right out of my eyes.  The hail stung my face little a million little bees.  I couldn't stop cackling, hooting and screaming because the feeling was so cold and ridiculous.  The snow maker made all the mud run and so I just toweled off.  Ewwwe!  I was now dripping mud.  My old sneakers were now useless so I donated them. 

I SURVIVED the Warrior Dash! I conquered it and survived to tell the tale.   The Warrior Dash was a tough race. The mud was ridiculous and became heavier and heavier on your feet with every gruling step.  There was great beer, huge turkey legs and the live music rocked.  The best part of all was NOT  even the t-shirt or the medal but the Warrior Helmet that we all sported at the end!

Run, Drive, SLEEP? Repeat

Run, Drive Sleep?  Repeat.  This is the mantra of the Ragnar Relay.   Ragnar is a 200 mile, 24-hour,  overnight, running race which takes place in different parts of the country.

One day, this winter, I was at EMS gearing up for my dog-sledding trip when I saw a sign that read "Runners Wanted:  200 mile relay from Yale to Harvard.  See Ashley"  Needless to say this peaked my curiosity.  I asked to speak with Ashley--but she wasn't in.  So I left my business card.  A few days later Ashley reached out to me and before I knew it I found myself signing up for  an insane,  200 mile, overnight, running, relay race.


In an effort to recruit more runners, I went to work and casually mentioned at I was running a 200 mile relay race in May.  Some people looked at me weird and said I "was crazy"  while another one signed up to join me.  clikc here to see what a typical conversation sounds like.


Months turned into weeks which turned into days and then into hours.  With less than 24 hours on the clock  our 12 member Team was reduced by 3.  One person had injured themselves and 2 others bailed out. Needless to say everyone was scrambling around to convince 2 more people that we were a totally sane group of people who were running 200 miles while sleeping with randon strangers in a van while eating out of the trunk and that they should be cool and join our team.  We didn't have much luck. Our Team of 12 was now a Team of 10.  Our captain, Ashley, was busy organizing all the last minute details.  Making sure that everyone on our team had reflective vests, headlamps tail-lights for the night run and reorganizing the legs of the race.  I made a copy of the map for our vehicle and then called my mother to see if I could borrow her Suburban for the ride. Which, thankfully enough, she let me use otherwise we would have had to hire a vehicle.


Vest-check
Headlamp-check
Tail-lights-check
Sleeping bag & pillow-check-check
Water-check
Granola-check
GU-check
Cash-check
Wipes-check
Spare runners-check
Xtra clothing-check


Then  it was off to Joanna's house-which served as our Rally point for the race.  Got there around 7:30ish and was the only one there.  Everyone else was still in Worcester waiting for Alison (a last minute recruit) to join up with the team.  Finally around 11pm Joanna and I decided to hit the hay we really weren't sure when the other team members would arrive.  We woke up around 3:00 in the morning and the rest of the Team came rolling in the driveway.  Team 1 rallied together and headed down to New Haven, CT while members of Team 2 got to sleep in a bit. 


I drove down to New Haven while everyone else was getting some much needed R&R before the race.  Our starting time was 6:00 am and I was Runner #1.  We arrived at New Haven at around 5:45 which was just enough time to go to the ladies' room and check-in.  I went over to the starting line and they had a cart-wheel contest.  So I did a cart-wheel--wheeee!  It was then, that I noticed, I had no race number on me and I didn't have the slap bracelet timing device.  Meanwhile all my team members were sitting in the Suburban. "Shit!"  I couldn't hang to see if I won the cartwheel contest, I had to run over to the Suburban to find out where the *uck my number and slap bracelet was.  With no time to think, someone grabbed a number and handed it to me.  In a fury, I pinned it on, only later to find out this number was supposed to be attached to our vehicle and not my chest!  HAHA, it was a real shit show!  I ran over to the starting line and boom-we're off. 


I was so tired.  I ran and ran and kept running.  The course was poorly signed with mid-night blue markers and there was no support on the course.  I kept running and looking and my watch and I was still running.  I thought--what the *fuck!  I should have been at the transition area about 7 minutes ago, so I just kept running a bit more and thought--oh hell no!  I've been running for much longer than this leg was supposed to be.  Something is wrong!  Thankfully enough I had my cell phone on me.  Then I realized--shit!  I don't have any of my teammates numbers plugged into my phone!  Damn it!  So I'm running through an industrial park, that has no street signs and I go into one of the buildings, which is closed because it's only like 6:20 on a fricking Friday morning.  Luckily enough, there was a cleaning guy in the office and he came out to me, eying me up and down, saying with his eyes "YOU is crazy lady."  I asked him for a business card so that I would know my exact location and I called Joanna from Team #2.  Joanna was like "you're near transition #2!"  You're going to have to cut over this street, bang a right and you'll see runners passing you in the opposite direction, because they have already exchanged at transition #1"  I thought "okay, thank you, love you.." Joanna had just saved my life and our teams ass!


Running back to transition #1, I still wasn't sure that I was going the right way, then I saw some runners pass in the opposite direction and a van drove past me.  The driver stuck her head out the window and shouted "Your team is just ahead waiting for you"  I though "THANK fricking GOD!"  Oh and by just head she meant another mile or so.  I got to T1 and my teammates informed me that some Shit Head Pranksters had stolen some of the signs that said "Turn right here" and wound up screwing up the 1st leg of the race.  Needless to say the race didn't start off quite as I had planned and from that leg onward we all became a little paranoid so every runner carried a map with them just in case there were more sign stealing douchbags on the course .

I don't think anyone else got lost on the course, there were no injuries and the race went pretty smoothly after that. Jonathan was brave enough to don his Brave Heart kilt & war paint for which he was well suited.  He prooved that he was a total warrior on the 2nd leg of the course by attacking the biggest most toilsome hills my eyes have ever gazed upon in both the rain and fog. 

There were a few mishaps on the way, Chris lost his bag but a good Samaritan turned it in and we were able to back track and pick it up.  I got car sick and blew chunks on the side of the road.

Team members Brett, Alison and Chris were real troopers picking up extra legs.  Brett, a US Army firefighter was also a great help with the driving. A Suburban is nothing compared to a fire truck!  Day 2 we milled into town had breakfast at a local diner, all the blue-hairs were looking at us funny.  Maybe it was the tuna sandwich Chris ordered at 8:00 am or was it the fact that we had forgotten that we didn't really look "normal" anymore.  Jon was still dressed up like Braveheart, war paint and all, while the rest of us had been up for over 28 hours and were nasty in our stinky, running gear and were ordering ridiculous food. 


There was little sleep and plenty of laughter.  Everyone had a great time, keeping clean with baby wipes, eating enough granola, gu and beef jerky to feed a small army all while cherring, running and driving.

Our epic journey began 31 hours ago at Lighthouse Point, it took us along the scenic back roads of  Connecticut, alongh Long Island sound, past Nathaniel Hale's homestead, through the milltowns of Massachusetts and commenced in the heart of Boston at Harvard.  There we all joined Ashely in sprinting across the finish line and were awarded our gigantic and well earned Ragnar Medal which of course, duals as the biggest, baddest beer bottle opener ever.  Together we enjoyed sipping Sam Adams and munching pretzels in the beer garden.  All in all, the camaraderie was great and there was very little time for sleep.  The Ragnar Relay stands true to it's mantra of Run, Drive, SLEEP?  Repeat  

Great race, great people and I would recommend this race to everyone!  http://www.ragnarrelay.com/

Grow

I am reflecting on my life.  On my needs and my wants.  These "things" were not something I could afford to paid attention to before.  In fact I never gave them any consideration at all.  Being a wife, mother and caregiver, "I" always came last or not at all.  I am finally at a place in my life where I am comfortable with who I am and where I am.  I have learned to accept difficult changes that were out of my control.  I have fought many battles most of which I have lost.  But I have been true to myself every step of the way and for that I have won.

I am finally, where I want to be in terms of my career.  I am content in knowing that I no longer have to put pressure on myself to earn my Master's within a specified period of time.  I have learned to earn my degree on my own time and enjoy it...rather than putting undue pressure on myself to blaze through it with glorious perfection.  I have decided to learn how to play the mandolin, something I never would have dreamed of doing.  I have my own house and am married. 

I am creative.  I know how to make jewelry, soap, paint with oils, tried calligraphy, love photography and used to write poetry.  I am athletic--running, biking, skiing, swimming and playing volleyball are just a few of the things I do.  I am adventurous--going dog sledding,waterskiing, snowmobiling and cliff jumping into the ocean at high tide are just a few of things I have done. Over the past year I have learned to embrace, who I am, to become more confident in my own skin and to realize that I do have a lot to offer. I enjoy learning about metaphysic and holistic healing.  I love going to apothocary's and collect rocks/crystals.  I have a lot to give and I am pretty darn unique individual.  After all who else can say that there parents were married by a midget, in the middle of the night?

My husband...how would I describe him?  He has a bit of a John Wayne persona.  He's tall, independent, rugged and can put on the charm with the best of them. He's very hard to get to know and is very guarded.  Maybe this is what attracted me to him, I though he was a nut that needed to be cracked open.  "I can crack that nut!"  He is generous.  He loves spending time at home puttering around the garden.  His temperament?  Patient,calm, passive aggressive,accepting, loyal and vengeful. Killer combination! He has patients in situations where I do not, he avoids conflict at any cost (this drives me crazy) he is loyal to his family and will be sure to payback any wrong doing even if it were to take him 15 years--he'll get even. So BEWARE!  He's stubborn and he is resourceful.  Everything with him, is a routine, I know he has OCD.  He eats the same thing every morning for breakfast, at the same time, watching the same tv show.  He's like a horse, he does something once, and it becomes a habit.  He is hard-working, in fact some might consider him to be a work-a-holic but due to my persistence he's starting to slow down a bit.I don't mind his OCD because I could set my watch by the things he does and it doesn't directly affect me.  Plus he makes a mean chicken curry and an Ulster Fry that's to die for!

His pet peeves?  Not sure because he doesn't tell me when something annoys him.  Weird right?  I guess he figures if he told me what they were, then I would do those things deliberately just to annoy him.  I don't know why--maybe that's they way all his x's jived. My pet peeves? Dammit!   He always leaves the toilet seat up but guess what? I don't tell him that I find this annoying.  See how we're the same?   Sometimes I feel like he's haunted by his past and this doesn't allow him to be in the present.  He is a difficult person, a closed book.  He likes to think of himself as easy going but he's not.  I on the other hand always used to be in the future and was always striving to acheive new long term goals to the point where I couldn't enjoy today.  Now I am living for today.  I hope he can grow and learn how to do this too so we can be happy together.

Met-a-phys-ics

In a nut shell is the philosophy that studies epistemology and cosmetology.  It studies the nature of the relationship between mind and matter.  Of being and knowing.

Color Red

Dropping into the rocky foothills of the Himalayans, the veil of thin air expanding into lungs.  Rib cage rises and falls with each and every breath.  Body beaten, muddled mind, climbing, searching.  Safely navigating through the ravines, blazing through the isolated ranges. Rocks, Valleys, Plateaus, RISING, f-a-l-l-i-n-g, PlaTEAu.  Pressing on, chasing, idealistic, young dreamer.  Wandering nomad living just for today.  Leathered face, worn and weathered.  Wise.  Fabrics of golden yellows, chartreuse and claret, ragged and worn adorn.  Not pressed by goals or achievements concerned with the spiritual.  United.  Connection misfired, unity impractical a relationship based on fiery desire.  Outstretched hands giving strength to the other, in passing, a moment of time. Creating a much needed connection. Gone in the blink of an eye a moment in time.  Sweet and blissful for just a moment. Tired. Never fully understanding, not aware, unconscious, once mysterious now discovered.  Substance or Excessive?  Exhausted.  Opaque becomes transparent.  Ashes fall, burned, rising up, soaring, untouchable, Phoenix.  Eternal.  RED

Lost

Never thought this was possible.  The air that was once filled with joy and laughter has been replaced by the bitterness of yesteryear.  Silence echoes of my heart resonate through the stillness of time as it ticks away slowly and painfully with every swish every sway of the pendulum.  Inevitably shaken my lips quiver, eyes well and emptiness fills my soul.  Longing for what might have been, searching for what could be and hoping that tomorrow will be just a bit brighter.  Lost but not forgotten. Frozen. Seeking that which ought not to be sought and reflecting, gazing deeply into the mirrored abyss.  Losing you slowly, metamorphically I come to be.  Myself gloriously revealed, tacky wings pulsating in the air, stronger, they move up and down in the wind, building strength with each pulsating beat until I gather enough strength and courage to try to fly.  Fly, fly high away.  Breathe.  Beautiful butterfly, spirit completely transformed I am me. 

My Winter Adventure

This past weekend I went on an overnight dog sledding adventure.  I drove up to Maine on Friday night to get outfitted with all the necessary gear and to receive instructions.  I arrived at the MahoosukGuide Service and was issued a pair of Winter Army Boots, a pair of Mukluks and a down parka.  After a quick informational session and brief introduction to my fellow adventurers,  I went back to our house to get packed for the morning.


I had trouble sleeping. One minute I was scared and the next I was excited.  I felt like a kid on Christmas eve.  You know the feeling.  The feeling of "ooh I hope I see Santa tonight" but also the fear of what would actually happen if you did see Santa "what if he sees me and I'm supposed to be sleeping? I'll get no toys!  Crap! Better close my eyes and go to bed.  These are the thoughts that ran through my mind "What am I doing?  Am I crazy?  I'm going to sleep outside in the winter...in a tent!  I hardly like summer camping let along winter camping.  Will I be cold?  Ooh I remember that story John told me about winter camping.  Uh oh  Will this be fun?  Will this be an adventure or a death sentence.  What will I eat?" 


I woke up on Saturday, packed my gear and got dressed.  I put on a pair of wool long johns, followed by polar fleece leggings and a light pair of wind pants.  On top, over the woolly long john shirt, I layered an Under Armor turtle neck and fleece shirt.  That paired with 2 pairs of wool socks, an LL Bean 3-in-1 Parka topped off with a down parka and pair of winter army boots and I was golden.  Off to meet up with the group.  I was a mixed bag of emotions.  Excited, nervous and unsure about how this trip would pan out.


The group consisted of 9 people.  Our Master Maine Guide Polly who lived in Alaska & the Yukon Territory for 15 years, famous author/survival expert Guide Gil Patrick (who was on the trip to write a chapter about Winter Travel for the latest edition of his book-Outdoor Leadership Handbook), John Wayne & his 2 daughters, Lisa (another Maine guide learning about the Art of Winter Camping), Brian who was the chief cook and carer of the puppies and Colin an intern from Colby.  I knew I was in good hands.  I was the only true rookie, as John Wayne had taken his son on two of these trips before. 


First we were briefed on safety.  Then we had to round up all 17 dogs and 4 puppies in an orderly fashion.  The dogs were big,beautiful and strong.  They love to pull so the men could take a dog on their own, but the girls had to team up while bringing the dogs to be loaded into Polly's truck. I was teamed up with John Wayne's daughter, Lilah.  Instead of regular leashes they have nylon rope with eye hooks on the end that clip on the dogs collar.  One by one the dogs were loaded into the truck.  This process took about 45 minutes to an hour.  There was definitely a process going on.  Polly loaded the dogs in a particular order.


Once the dogs were loaded, Brian loaded the puppies into his truck and I hopped into the front seat of John Wayne's Hummer!  Score!  Lisa sat in the back with the girls and we headed into the mountains, through Grafton Notch to Lake Umbagog.  The drive took about 1/2 hour.  Once we arrived, Polly drove her truck onto the ice and unpacked the sleds.  We were taught how to lay out the lines of the sled, how to tie the sled up, how to use the emergency break (which was a dangerously big, iron claw that could rip your face off in a heartbeat), we were taught basic commands to get the team going, how to break and how to watch the line for tangled dogs.  Then we packed the gear on to the komatick and in the sleds, brought the dogs out of Polly's truck and tied them up to the sleds and away we went.


The sled silently glided over the snow packed ice, the only sound was that of the whooshing snowing between the sled rails and my feet.  A feeling of calm serenity overcame my consciousness.  My eyes darted from the dogs to the glorious mountains that I was nestled between.  I was amazed at how silent the dogs were.  Their feet moved silently together in perfect harmony.  When dog sledding you have to pay attention to what's going on, you have to be in the moment.  You have to forget all your worries of the day.  Forget work, forget family, forget trouble and just be in the moment because if you're not paying attention to the "here and now" bad things can happen.  Our destination was a bush camp 8 miles away.


Once we arrived at the bush camp, I was expecting to have a chance to relax and reflect a bit on the day.  FAT CHANCE.  Once we arrived, we had to take all 17 dogs in an organized manner from the sleds to their respective tree lines, where they were tied up for the night.  Each dog has their own designated area.  Once that was done we had to tie up ropes and turn the sled on its side.  Then we needed to give all  the dogs hay for their beds and food. After they were fed we had to walk 1/2 mile out on the ice and chop a hole through it in order to get water.  The process of chopping through the ice took 4 of us about 30 minutes.  The ice was 8 inches thick.  It was hard work.  Then we dipped the buckets in the hole, filled them up with water and lugged them back to camp so we could boil it for drinking and cooking.  Hooray for  Swamp Water!  Just kidding. 


After chiseling the ice, we then had to collect logs, dead trees, branches, twigs and birch bark for the nights camp fire that we were going to set on the ice.  I learned how to spot dead trees  and then take them down from Lisa.  We then collected them in a spot on the ice where Gil snapped them into smaller, more usable pieces.  Once that task was complete the women took off to gather fur boughs.  First I had to learn how to identify a fur tree from a spruce, cedar, etc.  Fur=flat.  Then I had to look for boughs whose diameter was the size of a pencil and snap  them off and bring them back to camp where they were wrapped in a tarp.  The boughs would be used the next day, to freshen up the floors of the tent (really to cover bare spots of snow) in the traditional Cree way.  Finally we had to collect sticks, moss, birch bark to make the perfect "twiggy bundle" which was for the wood stoves.  The bundles was then tied with twine.  It seemed as though the days work was finally done.


So we had water to live, wood for fire to keep us warm, boughs for comfort and now we were off to the cook tent for some din-din which consisted of a sausage patty, homemade mac & cheese, along with a mix of peas and corn.  I had a cup of tea to wash it all down then it was onto the ice to light the fire.  It was minus 15 when we started the fire and Lisa went around to the different tents to start up the wood stoves.  After making a few s'mores it was time to hit the sack and that's when the real fun began. 

I climbed into the tent and had to zip myself inside 2 mummy bags.  I had on a hat, wool long underwear, polar tech leggings, a fleece top, down slippers, a hat and a turtle.  I was looking at these 2 bags trying to figure out how on Earth I could get into 2 bags and zipper them both up.  Good grief!  The guide told me to get into both bags, zip up the outer one and then, zip up the inner bag.  You would think that getting inside a sleeping bag and zipping it up is nothing more than child's play but holy crap let me tell you, it wasn't.  It was dark, the only light I had was the lamp attached to my forehead.  I was able to zip the outer bag pretty easily, then I blindly had to feel around for the zipper on the inner, which was difficult seeing as though my arms could barely move in the mummy bag and I could hardly see a thing.  I finally zipped up the inner bag and realized that I didn't have the hood up.  So I had to unzip myself, put the hood of both sleeping bags over me head, zip up both bags again and then try to find the 4 pull strings inside the bag.  "Seriously, why the Hell am I doing this?  I can't believe this is my idea of fun."  I thought to myself.  I couldn't find the pull strings, Lisa came over, stuck her hands in my bags and felt for them.  "Here you go" she said.  So I pulled the top left trying which tightened the outer hood of bag #1 then the bottom left which tightened the chest area of bag #1.  Then on the right side I pulled the top right which tightened the inner hood of bag #2 and the bottom right which tightened up the chest area.  Okay, I was good to go. I pulled my hat down and my turtle up so that the only thing peeking out of the bag were the slits of my eyes and I thought "I hope I don't have to pee during the night." 

The night was long.  At one point I started sweating and there was a heavy weight on my chest, I took off my hat and slippers.  I think my body was just adjusting to the cold, bluster winter air.  It was a really long night. I prayed I wouldn't get frostbite.  I woke up at 5:45am and Lisa lit the wood stove.  We changed our clothes, washed up, brushed our teeth and headed over to the cook tent where we ate bacon and blueberry pancakes.  SOOOOO delish.

After breakfast we packed up our tents, dried the sleeping bags, restocked the firewood, fed the dogs and learned how to lay the bough flooring for the tents in the tradition of the Cree.  Then we had to get the sleds ready, bring out the dogs one by one and head out on the trail.  Once on the trail we had about 8 miles to mush until we reached our starting point where we had a bit of lunch.  Lunch both days consisted of granola bars, tea and fruit leather.  We loaded up the dogs and sleds and headed back to to Newry.  Once there we unloaded the dogs and said our goodbyes.

So why did I torture myself?  I don't really know.  What I do know is that I spent 2 days dog sledding in the Bush and in that short amount of time learned a great deal about myself and about nature.  I would go again and recommend it to everyone.  I also discovered that I want to learn more about living in the natural world.   I learned that nature gives us what we need in order to live.  I look at the natural world with new eyes and wonder what it means to be modern.  I realize that it takes a group of people to survive in nature, one cannot do it alone.  I look at all the green-jobs, renewable energy and concerns about global warming and say "Do we need to redefine modernity?"  We all need to get back to nature a bit more both collectively and individually.  We take nature for granted and have strayed so far from our natural human roots that we now find ourselves and our planet in dire circumstances.  We all need to contemplate more and spend more time in the woods, with nature, with ourselves.  We need to learn how to respect nature for she is a wonderful teacher and perhaps we can learn to find a bit of harmony within ourselves as we attune spiritually to the rhythms of mother nature.  

Here's a link for amazing adventures & amazing people!  http://www.mahoosuc.com/

Why do I TRI?

For years I had dreamed about competiting in a triathlon but it was only that....a dream.  Then one day, last October, my life changed.  I offered to move a couch from my place to Sharon's apartment and in the process I threw my back out.  The initial impact was not immediate.  I was able to hoist the couch into the truck and off to Sharon's I went.  When I arrived I grabbed a couple of couch cushions and when I took the 1st step into Sharon's my entire back locked.  It froze, I could hardly walk and when it came time to leave I couldn't lift my leg to get back into the truck.  My husband had to get a stepping stool for me to use in order to get into the truck and the trip back home seemed endless.  Once we arrived home, it took me about 45 minutes to walk to the front door, which was only about 16 feet away. 


Once inside I shuffled my way to the bedroom and Maddie brought me some gingerale.  I just laid there barely able to move.  "I'll be better by tomorow" I said to myself.  I wasn't.  The next day I could barely move, I had to crawl on all fours to get to the bathroom.  My husband found a chiropractor, Dr. Dan who made housecalls.  I couldn't stand, I couldn't walk, I could only crawl.  I crawled on all fours to the bathroom.  Dr. Dan came into the room and fixed me to the point where I could stand bent over at a 90 degree angle. 

My husband bought me a walker and installed handicapped bars in the bathroom.  My bathroom was now transformed into a geriatrics dream.  I could finally make it to the bathroom and back with little help. I laid in bed for 3 days with the chiropractor coming by twice a day.  My husband went to work and my Dad came over to take care of me, feed me and keep me company.  By the 4th day I couldn't take the pain any longer.  I was able to make it to the kitchen and I sat down in a chair but then, I the unimaginable happened.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't get up.  I was stuck and in agony I began to cry.  He  had to call the ambulance and the paramedics came, put me on a gurney and took me to the hospital.  I had never experienced so much pain in all my life.  Once I arrived at the hospital I went through a battery of tests.  Then I was told I had a mayo facial lumbar strain and sprain and would need intensive physical therapy and medication.  I was told that this would never fully heal or go away. 

From that moment forward,  I decided that I was going to take charge of my own health.  I started physical therapy which consisted of putting heating pads and electrodes on the afflcited area.  I was in so much pain they could not massage the area.  By my third visit, they were able to gently massage my angry muscles and I felt them release.  I left physical therapy and within hours the pain returned so I went to Dr. Dan.  He explained that the physical therapist had released the very muscles that were being used to keep my upright.  This scenario of having to see Dr. Dan the chiropractor after going to the physical therapist became a regular occurance.  I smartened up and decided to nix PT all together.  It was only a waste of time and money.  I had a new found respect for my body and continued seeing Dr.Dan, the miracle man, two to three times a week.

Dr. Dan made it clear that I was going to have to strengthen the muscles in my lower back and pelvis.  After seeing him for month or so, I asked him if I would benefit from swimming.  He said that "swimming would be perfect."  So I joined a local gym and hopped in the pool.  A few months went by and I started to feel strong enough to participate in a spin class and that was really fun and worked wonders in building up muscles.  I started off slowly and by March I had decided to participate in the Spin for Hope event which is a 3 hour indoor cycling event that raises money for the American Cancer Society.  I rode for the entire 3 hours, went over 65 miles and help raise $750.00 in my mother-in-laws name.

Then one day at the end of March, Ruth from my spin class, mentioned to me that the gym was trying to start up a Triathlon Team.  I figured that I could swim, I was biking and all I needed to be able to do was run.  Then I too, could achieve my dream of competing in a triathlon.  I decided to join the tri group, which was comprised of 12 women whose end goal was to compete in the Webster Lake Triathlon that would be held in June.  We trained together for months.  Going through a series of group runs, swim clinics, nutrition and strength training sessions.  Some incured injuries, others decided that training required too much dedication and others just plain sissed out.  What started out as our group of 12 was reduced to a group of 4 by the day of the Triathlon.  It was finally here, the day we all had been waiting for.  The day to see what it was we were truely made of, our day of the 1/2 mile swim, 14 mile bike a 3.2 mile run . 

I went down to the waters edge and suited up.  I put on my goggles and swim cap.  Wow!  1/2 mile in the water looks longer than you think. The air horn blarred and off I went into the dark abyss. Dodging fists and legs I swam, despearatly trying to find my rythem.  People around me were flailing and getting disoriended, they turned around and headed back to shore.  I swam on, out around bouy number one and turned.  Swimming at least 60 feet out parallel to the shore headed for bouy number 2, pass the lifeguards poised on their surfboards I rounded bouy #2 and headed for the shore.  Horray!  I can touch the bottom, now it's time to sprint.  I sprinted out of the water, peeled the top half of my wetsuit off and ran from the sand to rocks and onto concrete pavement on the way to the T1 area to find my bike.   

Wetsuit, swim cap and goggles off.  Helmet, sunglasses and bike shoes on.  Gotta Go!  I hop on my bike take a swig of water and look for my packet of GU.  No Gu?  What?  Where is my GU?  No fuel?  How am I going to make it up the 3 Sisters, a grueling series of 3 back to back climbing hills, without my GU?  Alright, don't psych yourself out. You'll be fine, even without the GU!  So without any fuel I headed for the hills and I made it up all of them, pass a few people on the climb and flew down the hills, round the bend, past the nature preserve and back to the lake for T2, the RUN. 

Running is the worst part of the race for me, but there's no time to think about that, auto pilot takes over and you go, go, go!  Helmet off, bike shoes off, baseball hat on and running shoes on.  Oh there's my GU it was in my running shoe!  Squirt some of that down and Go!Go!Go!  I take to the pavement and I'm feeling fine for the first mile and a half then all of a sudden my left quadracept starts cramping.  Like the worst charlie horse you ever had in your life cramping.  Like, oh my god, I'm going to keel over and die cramping.  Like god, please make it stop cramping.

I never experienced this in training.  I called out "AHH, What do I do?"  Those who I passed on the bike leg of the race where now passing me on the run.  "Shit!" I thought to myself, "What do I do?"  Just then a guy passed me and said "Just run throught it." mmmm Run through it?  Run through this pain?  Is he insane?  Is he crazy?  Oh well, I didn't know what else to do.  I made it this far and thought "What the hell?!!?  I will run through it!"  Afterall, I really had no other choice but to run through the pain.  A few minutes after I started jogging I felt the pain start to subside and then my calf started to cramp.  That too went away, I was amazed.  Nutter runner guy was right!  I ran all the way to the finish line!  Glory was mine!

Why do I TRI?  I had experience trials and tribulations of the triathlon and emerged truimphant.  I am a triathete.

The human body can endure much pain, the mind plays tricks and the soul bears great suffering there is no greater testament to being human.  To participate in a Triathlon, is is to celebrate the humanity in all of us.  It reminds me that there in nothing in life that I cannot endure!  Dreams really do come true!

Dedicated to:  Dr. Dan the Miracle Man

Kindred Spirits

What is a kindred spirit?  Kindred spirits are two people who make a special connection by sharing a bond that has joined them by means of experiences that draws them together on a higher level of consciousness. This connection can be from the same experience at the same time or two separate experiences similar in nature.  When 2 people experience dramatic situations, as in our case, the dramatic experience of growing up country, they come to depend on one another as having to rescue each other from the insecurity of not knowing.  They become bonded as kindred spirits and reach and understanding that no one else can truly understand.  I'm blessed to be able to give a little snippet about mine.

My kindred spirit is Kirsten, my best friend for life.  We met when we were in kindergarten and we absolutely loathed one another.  We were both so very different.  At recess she was always chasing the boys around the playground trying to kick them in their nuts while I on the other hand never went to school without my chap-stick and baby powder.  I remember telling her she was mean and boys would never, ever like her if she kept on doing things like that.  Kirsten had an older sister, Sharoll (pronounced Sha-Roll) who was really cool and I envied her. 

Sometimes after school I would take the bus over to Sharoll's to hang out and inevitably Kirsten, the bully, was there. Go figure!  Just then, the worst thing thing ever happened!  Our mother's became friends and I found myself spending more and more time over Kirsten's house. There was simply no way of escaping her.  More times than not her older, cooler sister went out and I was forced to play with Kirsten instead.  Great, I had to be nice to this mean bully who like to shove, kick, wrestle and most of all YELL at the top of her lungs at me.  What was I ever going to do with her?  Could she learn any manners at all?  Could she ever do anything girlie?  These are the questions that plagued my mind.

Kirsten introduced me to her world of horses and I in turn introduced her to my world of water skiing and jelly bracelets.  We bonded.  She taught me how to make Velveeta mac & cheese, oodles of noodles, ride horses and how to climb up into the rafters of her barn where we would hang out, 20 some odd feet off the ground and eat cheeze-whiz.  No crackers, no chips, just our index finger and plain ol' cheese whiz straight from the jar and man was it good!  We made forts together, went swimming, got lost in the woods, took Aunt Linda's paddle boat for a spin, and played veterinarian on all her animals. I think I liked playing vet at her house the best, she had so many awesome animals to poke and prod.  She had dogs, horses and cats.  I loved it.  My favorite dog was Sammy, a cocker spaniel, who used to just chill with us in her room when I slept over.  Kirky, Sammy and the giant Puffalump made the perfect slumber party.  I was no longer interested in hanging out with Kirsten's older, cooler sister I was interested in her.  As time passed we found ourselves inseparable. 

In 5th grade we were in different classes but the 2 classrooms got together to watch the movie "Anne of Green Gables" and the two of us were able to completely identify with the 2 main characters, Anne Shirley and Diana.  Kirsten was the spitting image of Anne--bold, determined, smart, nose always in a book, and she had curly hair to boot.  I on the other hand was Diana, shy, quiet, demur and domestic.  Not too smart but that was alright, cause I'd marry a good man that would be able to take care of me.  Anne & Diana used to call themselves Kindred Spirits and from that point forward so did we.

Perhaps the most notable trait about Kirsten, growing up was her loud mouth and bold attitude. She always took everyone by surprise and she still does.  Kirsten, she has this uncanny ability to tell everyone exactly what she's thinking.  No filters attached, Kirsten just tells you how it is and if you didn't like it, she really does not care.  If you don't like what she has to say then it's your problem not hers.  She's brazen, brave and sometime even abrasive.  She never really cared about what other people thought.  I on the other hand was shy, introverted and often cared too much about what other people thought to speak up. That is, unless I was overcharged for something.  We were truly the odd couple. 

We were so different yet as time passed by we realized that we were more alike than we were different.  Our lives seemed entwined and we shared similar life experiences at the same time which helped us give one another a source of strength and encouragement.  Whether it was the passing of a sibling, the loss of a grandparent, the birth of a child, sickness, buying a house or just complaining about our husbands and mothers we have been there for one another and have trudged through the trenches of life together in a way that very few souls on Earth have. 

We've depended on each other as a source of strength and wisdom when we had no one else.  We have shared laughter, tears and I'm sure a few fist fights.  We keep each other balanced, in-check and are always brutally honest with one another in a way that only kindred spirits can be.  We don't get defensive at what the other has to say rather we appreciate the honest feedback.  We have share much laughter together and  seem to be able to find humor in even the most dire of circumstances.  We lift one another's spirit up.  We have silly, immature nicknames for one another, that we still use. 

No words can express how much love, respect and admiration I feel for my best friend.  She is a woman of duty, pride, grace, athleticism, intelligence, dignity, respect, kindness and playfulness.  She is outspoken and witty.  She is a soldier and a wife.  True to herself and those around her, she is a mother, living by example and I love her deeply.  She's not just a War Hero she is my Hero!  When I got married, I gave Kirsten a ring and engraved inside of the band were the words "Kindred Spirits" for that's what we have been for the past 28 years.