Floating

I've known for many years that the trifecta of sport in my life was hiking, biking & swimming.

 

The pool is were I work best.

The last two mornings I had this pool to myself for several hours; I swam laps and then taught myself what I once thought impossible.

I learned to float.

All my life, my legs would sink and down I'd go.  In pool class I'd have to tread water to stay afloat, while my classmates blissfully relaxed.  Yesterday, however, I was determined to learn...and determined to think.

Concussions are not fun.  I can't say exactly how disruptive this last one has been (the headaches are a clear indication it's not completely better) but the ability to focus has been compromised.  I can feel the cognitive slip, regardless of how I try, and I have not returned to Pilates (not that it would harm me further but trying to get Ride up and running has consumed my every free second.)  So after a week at the Arizona Rural Policy Forum, I headed to Scottsdale for business and a break.

Swimming.  It's contemplative, just like hiking and biking.  I love it, but rarely indulge.  Being cold is such an anathema I don't seek out the pool as exercise except in the summer heat, when the pool feels like a bath.  As I felt my body lift and drift as I floated for the first time, my mind wandered over the problems needing solving; tinkering with one solution, finessing another, and pushing aside stray thoughts to focus on the business at hand.

 

Desert sunrise.

Much like the sunrise this morning, my thoughts coalesced together and it quickly became clear what needed to be done.  Hopping out of the water I jotted it all down, then jumped right back in.  I love swimming.  While I'm not passionate about it-I truly love it.  The cold has kept me out of the water forever, and suddenly it occurred to me.  

Why don't I just buy a wetsuit?

💡

Yes, the aha moment.  If I had a wet suit, I could stay warm while swimming.

Only took 45 years, folks.

 

Tonight I bought these sparklers at Last Chance, for the bargain price of $5.  Admittedly, they reminded me of something Kate Middleton wore (although hers were Jimmy Choos) and I could not resist them.

They are fun.

Life is fun.

It's time to celebrate:  I'm buying a wetsuit:)

And then...

Tomorrow I shall be 45.

There's no way to make an 8 out of it (44 is obviously 4+4=8, like that did me any good at all!)

Ride Prescott is gearing up to launch, with the acquisition of our third cart:

 

I've been assured by a PhD in cultural anthropology that calling this cart Honky is completely acceptable.

Unfortunately, purchasing this vehicle, and bringing up Greenie meant I missed a week of Pilates.

Then I missed another week of Pilates.

I have no hope of returning right now - I've had another concussion, and I'm honestly overwhelmed.

 

Don't they look new?  Everyone thinks they are!  We scrubbed them good to get them this way!

The crazy up and downs of a business launch: simple things getting complicated, people helping (or not helping) and the misunderstandings that arise....fold in rejection, my number one life-long enemy and you have an unstable mix.  Add to it another concussion...?!

 

Technically, it wasn't Indie's fault.

The concussion was caused by me missing the fact the lower closet rod bar had a wooden support, and in looking for the kitten Indie (who belongs to a friend, I'm merely kitten-sitting) I walloped my head good and hard on it.  Given the fact I had a mild concussion two months ago and you have a girl who used her five days off for her birthday to do nothing but clean and heal.

And time travel.

 

My alter ego, Cordelia Kirk, steampunk time traveler and co-presenter at the Western History Symposium with Dr. Jay Cravath.

Exercise?

Bah.  Cleaning and scrubbing will have to do for now.

Bike rides?

I wish.

I'm missing my exercise partners.

 

My feet are tired.

So.  It's almost my birthday.  I'm officially old tomorrow, but I am again reminded:  the best is yet to be.

I think I need to make it so :)

Moving Forward

Last Sunday, my vehicle was towed (rather unjustly) and the week went downhill from there.

 

I did, however, score this adorable Anthropologie top at a thrift store.  And my office carpet and trim is green, and that is my favorite color.

While I assure people I rarely have a bad day (I average maybe six a year) this was the first time I had three of them fall three days in a row.  By Thursday, however, I had formulated my plan, and I had begun the process of recovery.

Of course my bike had to figure into that.

 

Reunited!  One had been missing for two years!

I cannot express the joy I have in having my bike in the back of my vehicle, ready to ride at a moment's notice.  This week was awful, with nothing working out as I hoped, and yet fabulous as I flew down the Peavine at full throttle yesterday.

Yes, I wore a helmet.

No, I don't have pictures.

Why?  

Because I look utterly ridiculous in a helmet.

This week the rains of the monsoon finally hit, and coincided with tough circumstances.

 

Monsoon Sunset.

As I settled in to my plans, and remembered the dreams I am still working on I was encouraged...a wee bit.

 

Maybe.  What if I grow a sixth toe?  That might be uncomfortable.

But!!! I am reminded my awesome new business Ride Prescott is nearing launch, and I finally have a second insurance quote (one of the hold ups) and possibly a third cart?!

 

The green ride is framing up:)

In addition, new collaborations are happening, and I am proud to be marketing several new start-ups.  My heart will always be brand new small businesses, and to join both Studio Sol Pilates and Senses in their opening months is deeply satisfying.

Things always get better.  This past week was but a blip, and thankfully not something like a 27 week broken dominate hand.

 

Although that 27 week broken hand allowed the discovery of my ambidextrous proclivity...I still mouse left (with a right hand mouse:)

Last night my legs ached in the best possible way as I ate a bag of frozen cherries, carefully removing the pits from their frozen yumminess.

Even pits are not a bother when dealt with carefully.

 

I think I shall concentrate more on my new business, helping those who want help, and on getting fit.

Thank goodness I've rediscovered my bike😍

Fitness Quest:  keeping it real.

Failure Is

I did not wear my beloved Max Mara dress on Saturday night.

 

I wore this one instead.

And loved it.

For the first time in five weeks, I saw the hard results of Pilates.  My legs are starting to look fantastic-and the smile on my face shows my delight.

Earlier, I had on spanx and the Max Mara.  It fit, and was acceptable to wear. However, it was not comfortable-and the hips of the skirt inched up at the waist, looking for more room.  Digging through my closet I came up with this $20 clearance purchase I had made a month or so before, and tried it on with my equally fabulous Stuart Weitzman sandals.

I still cannot get over my legs.

Today I had a conflict with my Pilates.  I had double booked myself, and I easily could have cancelled.  Add to it the fact that this is beyond a doubt one of the most difficult weeks of my life....I so didn't want to go.  It gets harder every time as I add in the six elements, and the weights heavier.  With an overburdened heart and the knowledge that I had a triple FFF failure I moved my appointment up, and still went.  I made the decision later to skip what was a potentially risky thing and took a nap.

No, I don't feel better.

Exercise did not help my mood.

Talking did not help.

 

Tonight.  It helped a wee little.

I'm not hungry.

I'm tired.

Tired of still being bound by lives no longer partnered with mine.  Tired of hoping, and never seeing that hope reached.  Tired of giving and being kind, only to be walked on.

 

But this.

It keeps popping up.  

 

As does this.  I love this.

And I hear myself say yet again-"let me do that for you."

All because I want to bless.

It's the cry of my heart to give.

To forgive.

 

Pears in Prescott.  I was pleasantly surprised.

Yesterday I had a crushing blow, coming hard on the heels of being unjustly towed.   Add to it today, having my heart ripped again in two after having hope spring anew.

Pilates did not help my heart or my soul.

But it did help my guns, my legs and my core.

 

It was a bittersweet night.

No, I didn't get into my beloved Max Mara.  That's ok. I felt beautiful.  No, I didn't have the fairytale I hoped for.  Still teary-eyed over that.  No, things are not how I want them, and it's a time of great flux.

But I'm getting stronger.

I can control that.

For now, I'll take that.

Passion

The other night I flew.

 

My view from the Peavine.

At work (aka the "real job" for the TOWN of Chino Valley (not city) as Rec Coordinator) I needed a pet project.  Being a hiker, I picked expanding our section of the Peavine Trail to the trail in Prescott.  Ours is only 5.5 miles long, and about 3 miles lay between our section and Prescott's.

Wide Open Spaces...the glorious West.

Earlier in the week I explored all of Chino's trail (from my town F150 and in the company of other dedicated employees tasked with this endeavor) but Prescott's disconnected sections took serious searching.

 

 This derelict bridge has me worried.

Early indications are we have a fabulous, doable project that benefits both the town and the city.  As a hiker, I looked forward to the completion...even though I wasn't fond of the Prescott section of the Peavine.

It's pretty but boring.

Nothing is worse than a flat trail in my opinion, and while I wanted to see the connection, I wasn't eager to "hike" it.  As a former railroad bed, it just wasn't exciting.  That is, until now.

I rode my bike on it.

I love my bike.  Always have-it gave me freedom from the age of five when I first figured out how to balance that old yellow Schwinn.  Over the years there were times my bike played a major role in my life-all three of my babies spent hours on the back.  Moving to AZ I discovered mountain biking the summer of 2013...only to have that end with a stress fracture in my foot.  2014 was the year of survival...I only managed a few rides as my career disintegrated.  2015 I had a broken hand....and the one ride I took did not go well.

 

Mackinac Island.  My hand had just broke for the third time but I didn't know it yet.

I honestly thought my bike needed more repair than just pumping the tires.  Turns out that's all it needed, and Peavine exploration seemed like a wonderful idea for the exact reason I hate hiking it:  it's flat.

<insert last blog's rhapsodic tale of riding my bike seriously for the first time in three years❤️>

Passion.  Unbridled passion.  

I've left my bike in my Dodge Durango, anxious to take it out again.  To fly as I did ignited a feeling I have so missed:  the joy and determination mixed into one glorious emotion called passion.

I had forgotten how it felt...the death of a marriage was in part due to the lack of any passion in my life.  Lately when I sense it-I quickly latch on...I need more passion, not less.

As my role with Far From Folsom is now over since they opened, and Ride Prescott moves to the forefront, I am looking for the sparks to ignite the energy and drive I need to make things work.

 

As you can see, Folsom was packed at the Grand Opening.  Mission completed successfully.

Bike riding gave me that spark.  Another thing that sparks?  Surprisingly, the Phoenix Symphony.  At work my Pandora station is an eclectic full orchestra mix - it helps me focus.  At Symphony Hall, however?  Passion.  My heart soars.

I look forward to having something I am passionate about at work.  I look forward to more music, and exploring on bike (as well as hike.) 

Passion.  I'm loving the surprise it had for me as I discover it once more.

Blog while I'm Happy

I love my bike.

Like really, really love my bike.

 Like love it soooooo much I'm willing to post a hideous picture of me because I love it so much.

It's been two years since I rode my beloved Trek bike.  Last year my right hand was broken for 27 weeks (Eric-can you believe that?  I must have driven you nuts!  Thank you for your patience!) and my only ride was on Mackinac (where I first suspected my casted hand was broken.). Tonight I joined a bike-fanatic friend on the flat Peavine Trail I oft complained about when hiking (see last years post for today)....and I flew.

 

A bit fuzzy when it's fast....

and dark.

Earlier we had sat and enjoyed the sunset, and I stretched out on the bench and struck a few classical Pilates poses.

 

My view hanging upside down.  Wine may have been involved.

As we went the length of the trail, the ten hour day melted away.  Flying by rocks on my bike restored my soul-I've often said neither hiking, biking or swimming is exercise.  

I so love my bike.

Exercise, I hate.

The results, I love.

 

Not that you can see my guns....

Thighs

It HAS To come off.

 

For all you who think I'm thin, here's the proof:  my thighs are not.

I see the dimpling of cellulite and the unacceptable spread everyday.  Then I throw on a pretty dress and go on my merry way.

Until now.

I started a new job and am starting a new business-and I must take care of my body.  While I am on week four of Pilates, I have struggled with my weight not changing...and then it started to and I worked 50 hours in four days.  It shot right back up.

Of course, magnificent lunches like these (from Soldi Backyard Bistro in Prescott) may be a culprit.

Why the sudden need to take it off?  Because of a white dress, of course.

I love this white dress.  It's a Max Mara, and I bought it in Atlanta when I had a flight delay (along with some Lucky Jeans and other assorted luxuries....) back in 2011.  

Or was it 2010?

 

2010.  I miss these ladies so much.

It fits with spanx (barely) but I want to be comfortable...

Thus I am stuck.

I'm exercising.  

I'm motivated.

But I also really, really want to eat what I want.

😜

Fitness Quest:  keeping it real.