I've been thinking about building a greenhouse- out of scavenged materials, of course- and wasn't satisfied with what I'd come up with. Then I found this, and voila! Instant greenhouse/cold-house for the driveway on the south side of the house.
This whole site is really interesting- his designs are simple, elegant, and functional. I suspect I'd add a bit more support, but overall I love it. Add some passive solar to it and we're in business. What do you think about this design and use of plastic bottles?
http://plentyofbottles.webs.com/apps/photos/
The artist/builder Craig passed away, but his wife is maintaining his website and his Facebook page for now, so please avail yourselves of his wonderful work while you can.
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Zakynthos-Bottle-Recycling/170594736328051
Friday, August 10, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
We've made a decision
Well, I didn't want to speculate, so I didn't post until it was clear whether or not we were keeping the buns. It now appears we are back in the swing of things, and are installing cages for all the rabbits.
Our prototype works reasonably well for the rabbits- my experimental doe kindled a litter of 5 in a nest box in the cage and they all seem content- they are clean, more tame due to interacting more, and I don't have to be down in the moldy poo-dirt any more, so I'm not having allergies as badly. I'm still without a worm bin, and need to hurry to figure that out, but I'm confident it will work out.
I have two more cages on order from the fellow who makes them for me, and will install them as soon as I get them. I'll need one last one eventually, but my NZ black doe has kindled in her burrow, so I don't want to disrupt her litter, so we'll have to wait 2 months to move her up.
The cages fit inside the original structures, hanging on hooks. I have to add copper tubes for support across the bottoms of the cages since these are heavy buns, but that's the only think I have to do.
I'll post pictures once I have worm bins in place so you can see what our set-up looks like now. I should be posting much more regularly now that major family events have settled down and my health has improved. Thanks for your patience!
Our prototype works reasonably well for the rabbits- my experimental doe kindled a litter of 5 in a nest box in the cage and they all seem content- they are clean, more tame due to interacting more, and I don't have to be down in the moldy poo-dirt any more, so I'm not having allergies as badly. I'm still without a worm bin, and need to hurry to figure that out, but I'm confident it will work out.
I have two more cages on order from the fellow who makes them for me, and will install them as soon as I get them. I'll need one last one eventually, but my NZ black doe has kindled in her burrow, so I don't want to disrupt her litter, so we'll have to wait 2 months to move her up.
The cages fit inside the original structures, hanging on hooks. I have to add copper tubes for support across the bottoms of the cages since these are heavy buns, but that's the only think I have to do.
I'll post pictures once I have worm bins in place so you can see what our set-up looks like now. I should be posting much more regularly now that major family events have settled down and my health has improved. Thanks for your patience!
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Thank you, spidennis!
A reader brought a nice fact to my attention. This really makes my day. I hadn't been able to check the Watertribe website for some time, but I just did.
The next Ultimate Florida Challenge is scheduled for 2016.
That's two years later than I had been expecting.
I have NO CHOICE but to wait almost four more years.
I cannot describe the relief, the happy smile. I am giddy.
The year that has passed with so many personal challenges and no exercise has been returned to me, doubled. Wow.
Instead of being hopelessly behind, I now think I have a chance at making it. I can train properly, feel responsibly prepared, and my kids will be ages 7 and 9, so they will be better able to understand and support my efforts, and tolerate me being gone for a month.
The universe is kind.
Now I shall relish slowing down more as is needed, and put more trust in the rhythms of life to get me where I need to be. Kind of like floating down a river. :) Time to enjoy the scenery rather than paddling like mad in every direction.
The next Ultimate Florida Challenge is scheduled for 2016.
That's two years later than I had been expecting.
I have NO CHOICE but to wait almost four more years.
I cannot describe the relief, the happy smile. I am giddy.
The year that has passed with so many personal challenges and no exercise has been returned to me, doubled. Wow.
Instead of being hopelessly behind, I now think I have a chance at making it. I can train properly, feel responsibly prepared, and my kids will be ages 7 and 9, so they will be better able to understand and support my efforts, and tolerate me being gone for a month.
The universe is kind.
Now I shall relish slowing down more as is needed, and put more trust in the rhythms of life to get me where I need to be. Kind of like floating down a river. :) Time to enjoy the scenery rather than paddling like mad in every direction.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Motive, Part I
A friend was lamenting all the hard work I've done on my rabbit breeding project, and the fact that I was considering giving it up in favor of more downtime to get healthy. I wrote this letter to her, and then realized it applies to more than my farm work. It's the start of my examination of why I want to race. And why I haven't given myself permission to train for that race.
I'm still cogitating on that one to see if it's purely for my own pleasure (and why that somehow seems less valid!), or another trap of proving my worth (in which case I shouldn't do it). In the meantime, I thought I'd share what I wrote to her. I think it would ring true for a few other people out there.
"Right now, I'm not terribly sad about the prospect of getting rid of the rabbits, oddly. Yes, it has been work, but I need to stop running around 'doing' and see the value in taking better care of myself. I tend to equate my value to my productivity, and that's not any better than equating one's value to the money one makes, really. Right? So this is a great opportunity for me to really chew on that little bit of wisdom in an attempt to digest it, and improve the underlying motives driving my decisions.
"Sometimes I wonder if the things I take on are distractions to keep me from investing more fully in myself... rather than rabbits... or big yard projects... sure they feel good to accomplish, but what about my sculpting, which I haven't touched in years, or my physical health, or meditation? These have value- they make me a happier, more peaceful person, and that's as important as any perceived 'productivity'.
"It's time for a paradigm shift. My body is telling me so. :) And that doesn't have to be a sad thing."
I'm still cogitating on that one to see if it's purely for my own pleasure (and why that somehow seems less valid!), or another trap of proving my worth (in which case I shouldn't do it). In the meantime, I thought I'd share what I wrote to her. I think it would ring true for a few other people out there.
"Right now, I'm not terribly sad about the prospect of getting rid of the rabbits, oddly. Yes, it has been work, but I need to stop running around 'doing' and see the value in taking better care of myself. I tend to equate my value to my productivity, and that's not any better than equating one's value to the money one makes, really. Right? So this is a great opportunity for me to really chew on that little bit of wisdom in an attempt to digest it, and improve the underlying motives driving my decisions.
"Sometimes I wonder if the things I take on are distractions to keep me from investing more fully in myself... rather than rabbits... or big yard projects... sure they feel good to accomplish, but what about my sculpting, which I haven't touched in years, or my physical health, or meditation? These have value- they make me a happier, more peaceful person, and that's as important as any perceived 'productivity'.
"It's time for a paradigm shift. My body is telling me so. :) And that doesn't have to be a sad thing."
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Taking care
Since my last post, it feels like 10 years have gone by. All of my time and energy has gone towards taking care of others. Now it's my turn, apparently. My body just told me so in no uncertain terms.
In the fall, my mother became ill, and I flew out of state for 8-12 days at a time to take care of her, and rushed back to comfort my children, whom I had never left before. I'd be home for 1-2 weeks and leave again. I did that until she passed in January, and then returned to her home in Indiana with my sisters to hold her memorial service and make sure her belongings were secure. Next month we all fly back out to dissolve her estate. That's a fancy way of saying "take what we'll need to sort through later, and then hold a sale for everything else". It's been emotionally and physically exhausting to care for Mom, the kids, my husband (who has kept working 6 days a week), Mom's affairs, and all the animals on our little farm. There has been no time for me to rest, mourn, or exercise.
I must say I would not have had the wonderful opportunity to be with my Mom like that if it weren't for my in-laws, who moved in and cared for the kids in each of my absences, so my husband could keep working. I am so grateful for that. It was a priceless time to be with her, share memories, resolve past baggage and abandon it, and just love each other. I am keenly aware that many people do not get that, and I'm not complaining. I'm just... wiped out by it.
It's not surprising then, that my health gave out last month. I'm having to seriously rethink my ambitions and goals, and what they demand of me. Why do I choose to do each of these activities that I take on? Do I have something to prove? Are they neat ideas, but insane to implement? *chuckle* At least one of my readers would say so. We're probably going to stop raising rabbits. We're going to invest in a drip-line system for the veggie gardens so I don't have to hand-water the dang things any more. Those two changes will free up 1-2 hours a day easily. That doesn't sound like much, but it adds up quickly when you're the only one doing it. That's 30-60 hours a month. I could use that time to take better care of myself.
So my new goal is less about getting race-ready, and more about learning to do something I haven't done in ages: take care of myself, regardless of apparent productivity. Can I say that again? This is really, really hard for me: TAKE CARE OF MYSELF REGARDLESS OF APPARENT PRODUCTIVITY. Whew!
First: meditation in the mornings, even with the kids running around. I don't care, maybe they'll eventually join me.
Second: get to the bottom of this never-ending migraine and CRUSH IT. hahahah. I'm serious. I've had one long migraine since March 27th. It's been a game-stopper.
Third: get back to tai chi- I haven't been able to do it much at all this past year.
Fourth: get regular massages until my second goal is met... and maybe keep doing them because I deserve them anyway! :)
Once I am stable, free of pain, and rested again, I am going to get a Rec Center membership. As much as I want to think I will paddle this summer, I also know how I work. "An old patient is better than a new doctor"- an old Tibetan saying. My most successful training in the past was in a gym, or when I had a class (like the ski clinic I did once a week). Sorry. Not in nature by myself. I don't know why- I love being outside. Maybe I just respond better to structure. I think that's why a race, rather than a random trip also appeals. Structure, rules.
But I can't even think about racing now. I have to think about general health and getting stronger again. If I can do that, then I can skate ski this next winter. I missed all last season because I was so tired and spent so much time at sea level tending to my Mom- it's a hard enough sport when you are acclimated, but killer if you aren't- literally. So my plan is to get healthy, and keep revisiting my motivation behind wanting to do this damn race.
Oh yes.
I still want it.
In the fall, my mother became ill, and I flew out of state for 8-12 days at a time to take care of her, and rushed back to comfort my children, whom I had never left before. I'd be home for 1-2 weeks and leave again. I did that until she passed in January, and then returned to her home in Indiana with my sisters to hold her memorial service and make sure her belongings were secure. Next month we all fly back out to dissolve her estate. That's a fancy way of saying "take what we'll need to sort through later, and then hold a sale for everything else". It's been emotionally and physically exhausting to care for Mom, the kids, my husband (who has kept working 6 days a week), Mom's affairs, and all the animals on our little farm. There has been no time for me to rest, mourn, or exercise.
I must say I would not have had the wonderful opportunity to be with my Mom like that if it weren't for my in-laws, who moved in and cared for the kids in each of my absences, so my husband could keep working. I am so grateful for that. It was a priceless time to be with her, share memories, resolve past baggage and abandon it, and just love each other. I am keenly aware that many people do not get that, and I'm not complaining. I'm just... wiped out by it.
It's not surprising then, that my health gave out last month. I'm having to seriously rethink my ambitions and goals, and what they demand of me. Why do I choose to do each of these activities that I take on? Do I have something to prove? Are they neat ideas, but insane to implement? *chuckle* At least one of my readers would say so. We're probably going to stop raising rabbits. We're going to invest in a drip-line system for the veggie gardens so I don't have to hand-water the dang things any more. Those two changes will free up 1-2 hours a day easily. That doesn't sound like much, but it adds up quickly when you're the only one doing it. That's 30-60 hours a month. I could use that time to take better care of myself.
So my new goal is less about getting race-ready, and more about learning to do something I haven't done in ages: take care of myself, regardless of apparent productivity. Can I say that again? This is really, really hard for me: TAKE CARE OF MYSELF REGARDLESS OF APPARENT PRODUCTIVITY. Whew!
First: meditation in the mornings, even with the kids running around. I don't care, maybe they'll eventually join me.
Second: get to the bottom of this never-ending migraine and CRUSH IT. hahahah. I'm serious. I've had one long migraine since March 27th. It's been a game-stopper.
Third: get back to tai chi- I haven't been able to do it much at all this past year.
Fourth: get regular massages until my second goal is met... and maybe keep doing them because I deserve them anyway! :)
Once I am stable, free of pain, and rested again, I am going to get a Rec Center membership. As much as I want to think I will paddle this summer, I also know how I work. "An old patient is better than a new doctor"- an old Tibetan saying. My most successful training in the past was in a gym, or when I had a class (like the ski clinic I did once a week). Sorry. Not in nature by myself. I don't know why- I love being outside. Maybe I just respond better to structure. I think that's why a race, rather than a random trip also appeals. Structure, rules.
But I can't even think about racing now. I have to think about general health and getting stronger again. If I can do that, then I can skate ski this next winter. I missed all last season because I was so tired and spent so much time at sea level tending to my Mom- it's a hard enough sport when you are acclimated, but killer if you aren't- literally. So my plan is to get healthy, and keep revisiting my motivation behind wanting to do this damn race.
Oh yes.
I still want it.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Getting in Gear
Labor day looms ahead of me, a sorry day indeed. The reservoirs close until next season, leaving me dry, dry dry.
I didn't make it out a single day. Amazing.
I would have never guessed our summer would shape up like this if you had asked me back in April. I'm excited, though. Yep. Here's why:
I BIKED TO THE TOP OF NCAR!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, so this won't mean anything to you out-of-towners, but it's a big hill for a cycling weanie like me. And it's fairly steep. And I ride a mountain bike since road bikes are as costly as my dream race-boat. I am a happy camper. I don't usually post pictures, but this made me really happy. I'd also like to thank Kerry for accompanying me, and Zane, for his overall influence on my lifestyle. (See those saddle-bags, Zane? They are much loved! woohoo!)
And it's my new workout lover. I shall climb this hill, near my house, at least once a week from now on. I'd like to make it my pre-skiing substitute, and start getting up to ride at 6am a few mornings a week. I have a second similar hill not too far away, and if I can alternate, I'll be getting a nice workout. Then once the snow arrives, I'll be skate skiing in the mornings.
Happily, the biking will continue: now both kids go to preschool, but at different times. I now have 6 opportunities to ride 5 miles round trip just for that. So I'm hoping to ride 20-25 miles a week right there (can't do it every time due to schedule constraints), plus other errands. I might not be paddling, but I'm improving my overall fitness still.
Add to that the tai chi (starting that back up today YAY!) and the farming, and I'm feeling good. Oh, and with our first litter of baby bunnies even the poo-cleaning chores feel more fun. Maybe I can make this work still, even with my husband's crazy work schedule. :)
I didn't make it out a single day. Amazing.
I would have never guessed our summer would shape up like this if you had asked me back in April. I'm excited, though. Yep. Here's why:
I BIKED TO THE TOP OF NCAR!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, so this won't mean anything to you out-of-towners, but it's a big hill for a cycling weanie like me. And it's fairly steep. And I ride a mountain bike since road bikes are as costly as my dream race-boat. I am a happy camper. I don't usually post pictures, but this made me really happy. I'd also like to thank Kerry for accompanying me, and Zane, for his overall influence on my lifestyle. (See those saddle-bags, Zane? They are much loved! woohoo!)
And it's my new workout lover. I shall climb this hill, near my house, at least once a week from now on. I'd like to make it my pre-skiing substitute, and start getting up to ride at 6am a few mornings a week. I have a second similar hill not too far away, and if I can alternate, I'll be getting a nice workout. Then once the snow arrives, I'll be skate skiing in the mornings.
Happily, the biking will continue: now both kids go to preschool, but at different times. I now have 6 opportunities to ride 5 miles round trip just for that. So I'm hoping to ride 20-25 miles a week right there (can't do it every time due to schedule constraints), plus other errands. I might not be paddling, but I'm improving my overall fitness still.
Add to that the tai chi (starting that back up today YAY!) and the farming, and I'm feeling good. Oh, and with our first litter of baby bunnies even the poo-cleaning chores feel more fun. Maybe I can make this work still, even with my husband's crazy work schedule. :)
The many shades of greatness
Okay, so my inspirational reading begs the question: did Diana Nyad make it? Did she swim the distance of 103 miles between Cuba and Florida? The now-obvious and somewhat disappointing answer is, no, she did not. But come on! She made it about halfway, despite massive asthma attacks (she was prepared for some difficulty, but not debilitating) and strong pains in her shoulder which she had never encountered before that day. She fought hard, and in the end, she had to stop.
Am I sad for her? Yes, and no.
I would have loved to see her make a statement to the world about what women in their 60's can achieve with the simple completion of the distance. After all, society wants little sound bites to judge quickly and simply if there was success or failure. So I'm sorry that many will see this as failure. It wasn't, though. The training, the effort, still leave her better off than if she hadn't tried at all. She inspired others, and touched their lives. Now she's helping people take a good hard look at 'success' and hopefully deepen their understanding of it.
And I would have liked to see her do it for her own vindication and joy. I relate to the process she underwent to set the goal, have the courage to make it public, and to go for it all-out. Her spirit is indomitable. I'm sure she cried in frustration when she was in the boat, but her interview afterward demonstrated what a winner she is: an amazingly strong lady mentally, emotionally, and physically, who had the grace and wisdom to appreciate the experience for what it was- team work, hard work and training, and the best her body could offer on that particular day.
My husband made a good point when we were reading her report and watching the interview: she swam 50 miles in the ocean. Fifty. Miles. 24 hours. Really. My hat is off to her. I hope I put up as good a fight in my own life-challenges.
Am I sad for her? Yes, and no.
I would have loved to see her make a statement to the world about what women in their 60's can achieve with the simple completion of the distance. After all, society wants little sound bites to judge quickly and simply if there was success or failure. So I'm sorry that many will see this as failure. It wasn't, though. The training, the effort, still leave her better off than if she hadn't tried at all. She inspired others, and touched their lives. Now she's helping people take a good hard look at 'success' and hopefully deepen their understanding of it.
And I would have liked to see her do it for her own vindication and joy. I relate to the process she underwent to set the goal, have the courage to make it public, and to go for it all-out. Her spirit is indomitable. I'm sure she cried in frustration when she was in the boat, but her interview afterward demonstrated what a winner she is: an amazingly strong lady mentally, emotionally, and physically, who had the grace and wisdom to appreciate the experience for what it was- team work, hard work and training, and the best her body could offer on that particular day.
My husband made a good point when we were reading her report and watching the interview: she swam 50 miles in the ocean. Fifty. Miles. 24 hours. Really. My hat is off to her. I hope I put up as good a fight in my own life-challenges.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Inspirational reading
I have some stuff in the works to talk about soon, but for now, check out this victory for us all:
"Diana Nyad attempted it once before. It was 1978 when she was 28, but 42 hours into what's supposed to be a 60-hour swim, her team pulled the plug. Nyad, a world-class endurance swimmer, had been defeated by nature: the water temperature was a tad cool and the wind produced sizable waves.
A year or so later, Nyad did manage to swim 102.5 miles from Bimini to Florida before she retired at 30. But, as ESPN says in its profile of Nyad, just before her 60th birthday and following the death of her 82-year-old mother, she started to think back to 1978 and said "Would I? Could I?"
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/08/08/139082543/from-cuba-to-florida-a-61-year-old-starts-the-103-mile-swim?sc=fb&cc=fp
"Diana Nyad attempted it once before. It was 1978 when she was 28, but 42 hours into what's supposed to be a 60-hour swim, her team pulled the plug. Nyad, a world-class endurance swimmer, had been defeated by nature: the water temperature was a tad cool and the wind produced sizable waves.
A year or so later, Nyad did manage to swim 102.5 miles from Bimini to Florida before she retired at 30. But, as ESPN says in its profile of Nyad, just before her 60th birthday and following the death of her 82-year-old mother, she started to think back to 1978 and said "Would I? Could I?"
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2011/08/08/139082543/from-cuba-to-florida-a-61-year-old-starts-the-103-mile-swim?sc=fb&cc=fp
Friday, August 5, 2011
Sanity riegns
The impatient, ambitious, burn-it-all Viking in me lost out to the more mature, mellow part, I'm sure all of you will be relieved to hear.
I was 75% sure of that even when I wrote my last post, but liked entertaining the idea of a mad push for September anyway. *sigh* If given the opportunity to actually focus on my own goals and work towards them, I suspect I could achieve great things... but I never get the chance to have single-pointed focus on *anything*. It's ironic that passion burns bright in the 20's, but we often lack the discipline or wisdom to take advantage. Then in the 30's, we know how to execute what we want, but in my case, there are kids and other tasks that require multitasking, watering down my effectiveness. I wonder what the 40's will look like?
In the meantime, I have small goals. I feel like I'm starting over, but really I'm not. I'm in much better shape this time around. I'd like to add tai chi back into my life again this month. I also have brought up the exercise gear we have: balance disks, small weights, an ab roller, elastic bands for resistance training, and a mat. I'm going to do the 100 Push-up challenge again that I did last year, and just start doing little things when I have 5 minutes to spare here and there. I'm also going to put this computer back downstairs, and only let myself check it once in the morning, and when I need to write a new blog post.
I'm going to resurrect the monthly Exercise Confessional too. Accountability helps with getting things rolling again. I think I'll do it weekly just to get myself going, and then cut back when it becomes normal again. Bear with me- I swear I have more things to post beside my exercise! ;)
I was 75% sure of that even when I wrote my last post, but liked entertaining the idea of a mad push for September anyway. *sigh* If given the opportunity to actually focus on my own goals and work towards them, I suspect I could achieve great things... but I never get the chance to have single-pointed focus on *anything*. It's ironic that passion burns bright in the 20's, but we often lack the discipline or wisdom to take advantage. Then in the 30's, we know how to execute what we want, but in my case, there are kids and other tasks that require multitasking, watering down my effectiveness. I wonder what the 40's will look like?
In the meantime, I have small goals. I feel like I'm starting over, but really I'm not. I'm in much better shape this time around. I'd like to add tai chi back into my life again this month. I also have brought up the exercise gear we have: balance disks, small weights, an ab roller, elastic bands for resistance training, and a mat. I'm going to do the 100 Push-up challenge again that I did last year, and just start doing little things when I have 5 minutes to spare here and there. I'm also going to put this computer back downstairs, and only let myself check it once in the morning, and when I need to write a new blog post.
I'm going to resurrect the monthly Exercise Confessional too. Accountability helps with getting things rolling again. I think I'll do it weekly just to get myself going, and then cut back when it becomes normal again. Bear with me- I swear I have more things to post beside my exercise! ;)
Saturday, July 23, 2011
An Exercse in Independence
My goodness! I don't usually blog on a daily basis, but there's been so much going on, even without paddling.
I posted my thoughts to the WaterTribe discussion forum on paddling whether or not the formal races happen. I heard back from Chief, the original organizer and founder of WaterTribe. He clarified his thoughts as follows: Death happens, things change, people get older, and nobody should put off doing what they want- they should do it now. That's what he meant when he said 2012 might be the last chance. So he encouraged me to paddle the NCC, then the EC, and then the UFC. But that I should start doing these as soon as possible. No problemo!
The NCC is a 100 mile sprint that is supposed to be pretty tough, and a good introduction to WaterTribe events. It's coming up, so I could technically make it to the race this summer. Paddling-wise, I feel prepared for that distance despite not having trained- maybe I'm being cocky, but my off-the-couch abilities would get me though a sprint like that. I could get the charts and tide tables and study up. What I'm *not* prepared with are my safety skills. I don't feel adequately prepared with my rolls, self rescues, and hypothermia kit. I don't have all the gear pulled together for a real overnight race. I'd have a ton of work to do.
I think I could pull it off, but I'm not the only factor involved here. My husband's start-up, to which he is a total slave right now, has almost completed it's initial incubation period, making life in August and September a big unknown. He's still working 7 days a week, and we don't know how soon that will let up.
So a more sane pace might be to not race this summer and fall, and register for some races that are closer to home for next spring and early summer, and also register for the NCC for next year. If I do three or so 100-200 mile races next summer, I'll get to work out lots of the kinks in my gear and skills. Then in 2013 I can do the EC to qualify for the UFC in 2014. That also gives me time to save up for and decide on what boat I want to partner with. (I can't assume Pat's boat will continue to be available to me after this summer).
Still, while the second option is very logical and well-paced, and was closer to my original plans (before my husband got into this start-up business), I haven't totally ruled out making a mad scramble for this year's race. I might just register, and see how close I come to being ready. If I don't think I'm a safe enough bet, and if it stresses out my husband too much, I won't do it.
So for all these musings, what I'm really grateful for is the mental exercise that I had to go through these past few days. Briefly having to consider the loss of the UFC as my goal made me look hard at what I'm doing. Sometimes having something get taken away makes you really examine your motives and the integrity of your goals. I feel a bit more steady now, more independent. Does that make sense?
I posted my thoughts to the WaterTribe discussion forum on paddling whether or not the formal races happen. I heard back from Chief, the original organizer and founder of WaterTribe. He clarified his thoughts as follows: Death happens, things change, people get older, and nobody should put off doing what they want- they should do it now. That's what he meant when he said 2012 might be the last chance. So he encouraged me to paddle the NCC, then the EC, and then the UFC. But that I should start doing these as soon as possible. No problemo!
The NCC is a 100 mile sprint that is supposed to be pretty tough, and a good introduction to WaterTribe events. It's coming up, so I could technically make it to the race this summer. Paddling-wise, I feel prepared for that distance despite not having trained- maybe I'm being cocky, but my off-the-couch abilities would get me though a sprint like that. I could get the charts and tide tables and study up. What I'm *not* prepared with are my safety skills. I don't feel adequately prepared with my rolls, self rescues, and hypothermia kit. I don't have all the gear pulled together for a real overnight race. I'd have a ton of work to do.
I think I could pull it off, but I'm not the only factor involved here. My husband's start-up, to which he is a total slave right now, has almost completed it's initial incubation period, making life in August and September a big unknown. He's still working 7 days a week, and we don't know how soon that will let up.
So a more sane pace might be to not race this summer and fall, and register for some races that are closer to home for next spring and early summer, and also register for the NCC for next year. If I do three or so 100-200 mile races next summer, I'll get to work out lots of the kinks in my gear and skills. Then in 2013 I can do the EC to qualify for the UFC in 2014. That also gives me time to save up for and decide on what boat I want to partner with. (I can't assume Pat's boat will continue to be available to me after this summer).
Still, while the second option is very logical and well-paced, and was closer to my original plans (before my husband got into this start-up business), I haven't totally ruled out making a mad scramble for this year's race. I might just register, and see how close I come to being ready. If I don't think I'm a safe enough bet, and if it stresses out my husband too much, I won't do it.
So for all these musings, what I'm really grateful for is the mental exercise that I had to go through these past few days. Briefly having to consider the loss of the UFC as my goal made me look hard at what I'm doing. Sometimes having something get taken away makes you really examine your motives and the integrity of your goals. I feel a bit more steady now, more independent. Does that make sense?
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Panic response
So. I have to paddle this 1200 miles alone. Sure, that sounds daft- of course I'm doing it alone! It's not like I have a companion boat full of well-wishers cheering me on. What I mean, is that there might be no more official Ultimate Florida Challenge after next year. There might be no more Everglades Challenges, either.
Initially, I panicked. Then I felt pissed. Then I thought, hey, I could drop the whole idea then, do something more sane... not.
This begs the question, what would I do if that were the case?
I would throw myself at the EC 2012 with all I have, for starters. The remaining warm weather this year would be spent drilling rolls and rescues, practicing with the hypothermia kit, and thanks to Colorado winds in the autumn, plenty of fully-loaded wind drills. And practicing loading, unloading, and setting up camp in wind and rain. All my free time would have to go into that, since I would not get to train from late Oct until the race in March.
Then I'd be skate-skiing like mad as soon as the snow falls, plus swimming. There's a group of 'yaks that meet at a swimming pool in January and February that I could review rolls and rescues with once a week. I'd have to do that too. Then, if Pat will let me, I'd see if she'd let me take her sweet boat out for the race. Otherwise, I'll see if I can bum one off of someone else... but that introduces the unknown of a boat I'm not familiar with. I'll deal with that when the time comes, I suppose.
Then what?
Then I paddle the 1200 mile course on my own, either in 2013 or 2014, depending on how the EC goes, and whether I'm ready. I'll have to do a bunch more planning on my own, since there possibly won't be a support group. Or maybe I'll make up a different course of my own of the same length.
All I know is that it's in my head, in my dreams, that I really want to find that deep rhythm of a long trip on the water with my paddle in hand. I really like the idea of doing it to draw attention to a particular cause, too. I'm leaning towards supporting the International Confederation of Midwives, kiva.org, or SeeYourImpact.org (all three are listed at the top of my blog with links- let me know which one you'd go for!). It all just feels right.
I guess I'm having to step back and find the space to unteather from the need to have it be a WaterTribe event. My vision of this doesn't need to be tied to a formal event planned by others. I know that's what inspired me originally, but I don't need to limit myself to that particular event. This realization is invigorating. Even freeing. I would like the camaraderie that a WaterTribe event offers, but in the end, I'm paddling alone either way.
Initially, I panicked. Then I felt pissed. Then I thought, hey, I could drop the whole idea then, do something more sane... not.
This begs the question, what would I do if that were the case?
I would throw myself at the EC 2012 with all I have, for starters. The remaining warm weather this year would be spent drilling rolls and rescues, practicing with the hypothermia kit, and thanks to Colorado winds in the autumn, plenty of fully-loaded wind drills. And practicing loading, unloading, and setting up camp in wind and rain. All my free time would have to go into that, since I would not get to train from late Oct until the race in March.
Then I'd be skate-skiing like mad as soon as the snow falls, plus swimming. There's a group of 'yaks that meet at a swimming pool in January and February that I could review rolls and rescues with once a week. I'd have to do that too. Then, if Pat will let me, I'd see if she'd let me take her sweet boat out for the race. Otherwise, I'll see if I can bum one off of someone else... but that introduces the unknown of a boat I'm not familiar with. I'll deal with that when the time comes, I suppose.
Then what?
Then I paddle the 1200 mile course on my own, either in 2013 or 2014, depending on how the EC goes, and whether I'm ready. I'll have to do a bunch more planning on my own, since there possibly won't be a support group. Or maybe I'll make up a different course of my own of the same length.
All I know is that it's in my head, in my dreams, that I really want to find that deep rhythm of a long trip on the water with my paddle in hand. I really like the idea of doing it to draw attention to a particular cause, too. I'm leaning towards supporting the International Confederation of Midwives, kiva.org, or SeeYourImpact.org (all three are listed at the top of my blog with links- let me know which one you'd go for!). It all just feels right.
I guess I'm having to step back and find the space to unteather from the need to have it be a WaterTribe event. My vision of this doesn't need to be tied to a formal event planned by others. I know that's what inspired me originally, but I don't need to limit myself to that particular event. This realization is invigorating. Even freeing. I would like the camaraderie that a WaterTribe event offers, but in the end, I'm paddling alone either way.
Book review: Without a Paddle, by Warren Richey
An easy read, Warren Richey's book chronicles his efforts at completing- and winning- the first Ultimate Florida Challenge, the same race I hope to complete in 2014. It also examines his divorce from his first wife and eventual romance of another associate later, after starting to heal from the deep wounds of the first.
I am unqualified to speak about his personal life, except that I was a bit uncomfortable with his somewhat negative view of women, which only improved by the end. I hope that means he found peace with my gender. Having seen a close family member struggle with a divorce, I know they are like mourning for a death that is imposed by a loved one (or oneself), which must be incredibly hard to get over. I hope never to experience that grief.
His book appealed to me more for filtering it down to what I need to do to prepare for the race. I would have liked it if he had delved into the challenges of the race a bit more, even. He definitely provided plenty of ideas of things I need to work on.
I discovered, over the course of the book, that SharkChow (which is his official handle) is what we of the climbing community call a sandbagger. Basically, a sandbagger is one who downplays their own ability, making a route sound easier than it is, thus luring others to attempt it. It's not always done with malice, but at times stems from well-meaning but misplaced humility. Some people just don't think they are that far from average when they give estimates of their own fitness or ability, even while they are effortlessly adept. So when I call Warren a sandbagger, he fits the latter category, and I say it with a degree of affection- I am married to a chronic sandbagger, who has taken me climbing far beyond my comfort zone to the point of dry-heaving from effort, when he was convinced it wasn't that hard.
I might be reading between the lines a bit too much, but here's my take on it: SharkChow thinks he's not that athletic, like he was nuts to try to do this race, and yet if you pick up on it, he trained pretty hard, to the point of possibly having an over-training injury. He was not only very fit, he knew how to pack for the race from having done lots of paddling. (Did I mention he completed the 30 day race in like 21 days? Yeah. Sandbagger!)
He had the competitive advantage of having paddled many miles of the racecourse casually over the years- he lived in Florida, and had many hours of sea kayaking under his belt. This leaks out through references in his divorce portions of the storyline. This also means he knew where to camp, having camped at many of the spoil islands that he depended on in the race, and he knew the hazards of the different areas. These are major advantages to have going into such a long race. There is less of 'the unknown' that an out-of-towner like me has to deal with. So a big lesson to me is that I need to make time to paddle sections of this course and explore it before the actual race, so I can plan better. This is a huge lesson to me.
That's not to say that he painted a rosy picture of the hardships of the race. There were certainly plenty of hurdles to clear, from winds, to tides, to the especially unpredictable waves around river deltas where the intercoastal waterways crossed, and other pleasure-boaters hazing small kayaks in heavily populated areas. Not to mention getting lost, getting stuck on mudbanks, and getting blown out to sea. Mostly, he made sleep-deprivation sound like the ultimate demon of the race. It impairs judgment and removes the keen observation that keeps us from making really basic, big mistakes.
Some of the important lessons I have taken away from this, as they pertain to my goal of completing the race safely at my skill level:
1. Slow down, don't try to win: SLEEP. Better to get enough rest to enjoy the trip and avoid dangerous misjudgment. I'm not a strong enough paddler, nor familiar enough with the racing grounds to take risks. Slow, steady, safe. That's my mantra.
2. Have lots of back-up options open at all times: alternate routes, duplicate places to camp close together (you never know how far you'll get on a given day), extra things to eat/drink, and emergency gear. Warren didn't wear his PFD during the race. This to me is a big no-no, but I'm a safety freak.
3. Never take for granted that the weather will stay good. Take advantage of it. This made all the difference early on for SharkChow's race. I know it's not the Northwest, but even Florida gets crummy paddling weather that requires staying off the water sometimes (this was not obvious to me until reading accounts of the race).
4. Really get to know the racecourse as much as possible.
5. Tides can really, really suck.
6. Inflate my tires fully on the portage. Oh goodness yes.
7. Pack light. This one is hard for me. I'm a boyscout at heart, and think I must have stuff for all eventualities. I don't want to paddle a barge through, so I have to figure out how to go light enough to stay fast, while having what I need to stay comfortable.
I'm really glad I got the book. It's very helpful to read a WaterTriber's personal account. I've been trolling for more such stories on the WaterTribe website as well as the blogs different paddles have linked. I hope to meet SharkChow at a race in the next couple of years and thank him. If my memory serves me right, it was his article in the Christian Science Monitor that I read in 2006 that fed my imagination in the first place!
I am unqualified to speak about his personal life, except that I was a bit uncomfortable with his somewhat negative view of women, which only improved by the end. I hope that means he found peace with my gender. Having seen a close family member struggle with a divorce, I know they are like mourning for a death that is imposed by a loved one (or oneself), which must be incredibly hard to get over. I hope never to experience that grief.
His book appealed to me more for filtering it down to what I need to do to prepare for the race. I would have liked it if he had delved into the challenges of the race a bit more, even. He definitely provided plenty of ideas of things I need to work on.
I discovered, over the course of the book, that SharkChow (which is his official handle) is what we of the climbing community call a sandbagger. Basically, a sandbagger is one who downplays their own ability, making a route sound easier than it is, thus luring others to attempt it. It's not always done with malice, but at times stems from well-meaning but misplaced humility. Some people just don't think they are that far from average when they give estimates of their own fitness or ability, even while they are effortlessly adept. So when I call Warren a sandbagger, he fits the latter category, and I say it with a degree of affection- I am married to a chronic sandbagger, who has taken me climbing far beyond my comfort zone to the point of dry-heaving from effort, when he was convinced it wasn't that hard.
I might be reading between the lines a bit too much, but here's my take on it: SharkChow thinks he's not that athletic, like he was nuts to try to do this race, and yet if you pick up on it, he trained pretty hard, to the point of possibly having an over-training injury. He was not only very fit, he knew how to pack for the race from having done lots of paddling. (Did I mention he completed the 30 day race in like 21 days? Yeah. Sandbagger!)
He had the competitive advantage of having paddled many miles of the racecourse casually over the years- he lived in Florida, and had many hours of sea kayaking under his belt. This leaks out through references in his divorce portions of the storyline. This also means he knew where to camp, having camped at many of the spoil islands that he depended on in the race, and he knew the hazards of the different areas. These are major advantages to have going into such a long race. There is less of 'the unknown' that an out-of-towner like me has to deal with. So a big lesson to me is that I need to make time to paddle sections of this course and explore it before the actual race, so I can plan better. This is a huge lesson to me.
That's not to say that he painted a rosy picture of the hardships of the race. There were certainly plenty of hurdles to clear, from winds, to tides, to the especially unpredictable waves around river deltas where the intercoastal waterways crossed, and other pleasure-boaters hazing small kayaks in heavily populated areas. Not to mention getting lost, getting stuck on mudbanks, and getting blown out to sea. Mostly, he made sleep-deprivation sound like the ultimate demon of the race. It impairs judgment and removes the keen observation that keeps us from making really basic, big mistakes.
Some of the important lessons I have taken away from this, as they pertain to my goal of completing the race safely at my skill level:
1. Slow down, don't try to win: SLEEP. Better to get enough rest to enjoy the trip and avoid dangerous misjudgment. I'm not a strong enough paddler, nor familiar enough with the racing grounds to take risks. Slow, steady, safe. That's my mantra.
2. Have lots of back-up options open at all times: alternate routes, duplicate places to camp close together (you never know how far you'll get on a given day), extra things to eat/drink, and emergency gear. Warren didn't wear his PFD during the race. This to me is a big no-no, but I'm a safety freak.
3. Never take for granted that the weather will stay good. Take advantage of it. This made all the difference early on for SharkChow's race. I know it's not the Northwest, but even Florida gets crummy paddling weather that requires staying off the water sometimes (this was not obvious to me until reading accounts of the race).
4. Really get to know the racecourse as much as possible.
5. Tides can really, really suck.
6. Inflate my tires fully on the portage. Oh goodness yes.
7. Pack light. This one is hard for me. I'm a boyscout at heart, and think I must have stuff for all eventualities. I don't want to paddle a barge through, so I have to figure out how to go light enough to stay fast, while having what I need to stay comfortable.
I'm really glad I got the book. It's very helpful to read a WaterTriber's personal account. I've been trolling for more such stories on the WaterTribe website as well as the blogs different paddles have linked. I hope to meet SharkChow at a race in the next couple of years and thank him. If my memory serves me right, it was his article in the Christian Science Monitor that I read in 2006 that fed my imagination in the first place!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
What is discipline?
I've been clinging to this goal of mine since 2006, of doing this sea kayak race... through the births of my two children, through the very slow process of reclaiming my body from major injuries and pregnancies, and through the more recent process of having to put myself on hold yet again to give another person's dream first priority. I'm learning to let go of that a little bit, to relax with this journey, to be okay with perhaps not even making my goal of doing this by age 40. When I've had personal projects in the past, I've pursued them with a rigid, myopic intensity that has been unhealthy. Not this time.
In my hunt for a more balanced lifestyle, I discovered minimalism. At first, I saw it as a means to eliminate clutter from the house, to cut down on the things that needed cleaning, repair, or were simply time-suckers for attention and energy. I thought then I might be able to fit in the work-outs I need to be doing if I cleared out the house more.
Then I thought about how having kids simplified my life for me (an organic form of minimalism), freeing me of social obligations as well as some time-wasting, self-indulgent habits. Instead I had to learn to be continually present for these two little people, in all their intensity and need, and still try to keep a functioning house, farm, and marriage. I've never worked as hard as I have in the past 4 years- not at any of my corporate positions, not in retail.... maybe almost with some of my volunteer/non-profit work, but even then I had projects, dealt with mostly-reasonable adults, and then had breaks- it wasn't relentless. Not like full-time parenting.
This winter I caught a glimpse of getting to do something just for me again, in the form of skate-skiing, and tai chi. And I started getting fit. It felt great. Then this job came up for mu husband, which I totally support, and my paddling had to go on hold, and even tai chi has stopped for the first time. My body has lapsed back to softness. It bothers me. And it doesn't.
I've been giving thought to what discipline really looks like in the face of constant change. It can't be rigid, or it's dead. It can't be a formula- how to eat, when to work out, or how time is spent. It has to be a mental state first and foremost. Discipline must be fluid, elastic, resilient, honest, or it will not survive a day. Change doesn't have to mean failure. It means adapting and being able to continue, even if the outward form shifts dramatically, even unrecognizably.
One of the biggest challenges of the UFC race, being 1200 miles, is the length of it: the boring, repetitive, lonely nature of paddling 16-18 hours a day for a month solid. The relentlessness, and the seemingly slow pace of progress, especially when faced with slow-burn injuries, getting knocked around by the wind and water, and wearing down. I like to think that I'm deep in the mental training for this challenge, and I'm finding what it takes to not get worn down mentally. The discipline of resilience.
Discipline, then, is adaptation. It requires that we constantly evolve.
In my hunt for a more balanced lifestyle, I discovered minimalism. At first, I saw it as a means to eliminate clutter from the house, to cut down on the things that needed cleaning, repair, or were simply time-suckers for attention and energy. I thought then I might be able to fit in the work-outs I need to be doing if I cleared out the house more.
Then I thought about how having kids simplified my life for me (an organic form of minimalism), freeing me of social obligations as well as some time-wasting, self-indulgent habits. Instead I had to learn to be continually present for these two little people, in all their intensity and need, and still try to keep a functioning house, farm, and marriage. I've never worked as hard as I have in the past 4 years- not at any of my corporate positions, not in retail.... maybe almost with some of my volunteer/non-profit work, but even then I had projects, dealt with mostly-reasonable adults, and then had breaks- it wasn't relentless. Not like full-time parenting.
This winter I caught a glimpse of getting to do something just for me again, in the form of skate-skiing, and tai chi. And I started getting fit. It felt great. Then this job came up for mu husband, which I totally support, and my paddling had to go on hold, and even tai chi has stopped for the first time. My body has lapsed back to softness. It bothers me. And it doesn't.
I've been giving thought to what discipline really looks like in the face of constant change. It can't be rigid, or it's dead. It can't be a formula- how to eat, when to work out, or how time is spent. It has to be a mental state first and foremost. Discipline must be fluid, elastic, resilient, honest, or it will not survive a day. Change doesn't have to mean failure. It means adapting and being able to continue, even if the outward form shifts dramatically, even unrecognizably.
One of the biggest challenges of the UFC race, being 1200 miles, is the length of it: the boring, repetitive, lonely nature of paddling 16-18 hours a day for a month solid. The relentlessness, and the seemingly slow pace of progress, especially when faced with slow-burn injuries, getting knocked around by the wind and water, and wearing down. I like to think that I'm deep in the mental training for this challenge, and I'm finding what it takes to not get worn down mentally. The discipline of resilience.
Discipline, then, is adaptation. It requires that we constantly evolve.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
WTH am I doing?
I feel like I'm casting about in a kayak without a paddle these days. I haven't gotten to go out even once. I don't expect to any time soon either. With my husband's work schedule (haha! That implies time off!) and the exhaustion of no real breaks for me either, I just can't get up at 5 to paddle.
I'll be honest. I don't know what the hell I think I'm doing. It's a good thing this race is a few years away, because I don't belong in it.
Why am I posting this? Because this blog isn't supposed to be all about how successful I try to appear. It's about the journey towards a goal. And right now I'm losing ground.
Somehow, this flailing about isn't making me lose heart. It's just a phase, and I'm ignorant enough to still think I have a shot at this.
I'm sorry that I won't get to do my first race this summer, like I'd been hoping, but maybe I can race myself down a section of river somewhere near enough to just be gone for 2 days. I'll take a GPS and see how I fare. We'll see. Not much of a point in doing that when I haven't been training at all.
Any advice?
I'll be honest. I don't know what the hell I think I'm doing. It's a good thing this race is a few years away, because I don't belong in it.
Why am I posting this? Because this blog isn't supposed to be all about how successful I try to appear. It's about the journey towards a goal. And right now I'm losing ground.
Somehow, this flailing about isn't making me lose heart. It's just a phase, and I'm ignorant enough to still think I have a shot at this.
I'm sorry that I won't get to do my first race this summer, like I'd been hoping, but maybe I can race myself down a section of river somewhere near enough to just be gone for 2 days. I'll take a GPS and see how I fare. We'll see. Not much of a point in doing that when I haven't been training at all.
Any advice?
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Things in my life I FORGOT to mention
Oh, haha! So, we have a farm for a yard now. And I'm not kidding.
Since March, we have constructed- with our own hands- two bunny barns, I've laid a scavenged flagstone walkway to service them, I've dug out grass and put in 2 raised garden beds, I've filled in mud patches with the dug-out sod, and I'm now building (by myself) a chicken coop! My husband was able to help with the initial bunny barns, but with this new job, he hasn't been available. So I've done the rest of this stuff, with a little help on the initial framing of the coop and chicken run.
We have 4 rabbits we are raising to breed for meat, so I will eventually be caring for up to 20 rabbits at a time. We also now have 6 chickens for eggs. And I have a vegetable garden to tend to, berry bushes, herbs, and 2 cats to keep the rodents away.
All of this is tightly organized on less than a 1/4 acre of city land, with our little ranch-style brick house in the middle.
Plus the two kids, now 2 and 4 years old.
Did I say farm? I meant circus.
Since March, we have constructed- with our own hands- two bunny barns, I've laid a scavenged flagstone walkway to service them, I've dug out grass and put in 2 raised garden beds, I've filled in mud patches with the dug-out sod, and I'm now building (by myself) a chicken coop! My husband was able to help with the initial bunny barns, but with this new job, he hasn't been available. So I've done the rest of this stuff, with a little help on the initial framing of the coop and chicken run.
We have 4 rabbits we are raising to breed for meat, so I will eventually be caring for up to 20 rabbits at a time. We also now have 6 chickens for eggs. And I have a vegetable garden to tend to, berry bushes, herbs, and 2 cats to keep the rodents away.
All of this is tightly organized on less than a 1/4 acre of city land, with our little ranch-style brick house in the middle.
Plus the two kids, now 2 and 4 years old.
Did I say farm? I meant circus.
Blown away...
Goodness! Taking over the full running of the household is exhausting. I thought it would take just a week to get used to it, and then add the paddling into the mix, but honestly, I'm just now starting to feel up to the early mornings. It's taken a month.
I get up with the kids at 6:30am or so, and it's non-stop. They go to bed around 9pm, and then I'm doing the dishes from that day that I hadn't gotten to yet, giving the baby chicks fresh water, and usually sneaking out to water plants I didn't get to during the day too. And those are my nightly chores. Then there are the less-frequent but constant ones: bills, cleaning the cat's litterbox, correspondences, getting ahead on cooking things, planning meals and shopping lists, getting my 'to do' lists up to date. I go to bed on average at 11pm. My son still wakes me 2-3 times per night.
Getting up at 5 or 5:30 hasn't appealed, but I am starting to think I could do it without totally wiping myself out now. And I can always supplement with napping when the kids nap when I'm exhausted.
So I've spent the past month learning to float and tread water in the hurricane, and now this month I plan on starting to *move*.
In the meantime, I've been able to sneak in some reading. Two book reviews are coming down the pipeline, both on paddling. They've been very educational books, and easy to read. Fun!
I get up with the kids at 6:30am or so, and it's non-stop. They go to bed around 9pm, and then I'm doing the dishes from that day that I hadn't gotten to yet, giving the baby chicks fresh water, and usually sneaking out to water plants I didn't get to during the day too. And those are my nightly chores. Then there are the less-frequent but constant ones: bills, cleaning the cat's litterbox, correspondences, getting ahead on cooking things, planning meals and shopping lists, getting my 'to do' lists up to date. I go to bed on average at 11pm. My son still wakes me 2-3 times per night.
Getting up at 5 or 5:30 hasn't appealed, but I am starting to think I could do it without totally wiping myself out now. And I can always supplement with napping when the kids nap when I'm exhausted.
So I've spent the past month learning to float and tread water in the hurricane, and now this month I plan on starting to *move*.
In the meantime, I've been able to sneak in some reading. Two book reviews are coming down the pipeline, both on paddling. They've been very educational books, and easy to read. Fun!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Swimming in a Hurricane
My husband's current 'job' requires really long hours- a major investment of time and energy that will hopefully pay off with a traditional job that has more normal hours, a steady paycheck, and a cool project to show for it. Meanwhile, we're relying on savings and my energy to keep the household going.
What I'm trying to say, it I have yet to take the kayak out. However, thanks to skate-skiing, I recognize what is going on below the surface: I'm learning to swim in a hurricane. Much like when I added skiing to my life this winter, I am building my stamina to a new level. I get up and take care of our little farm, I clean the house, prepare many meals, run the errands, and parent the kids. All day, all night. And then get up and do it again.
Typically, I'm up at 6:30am and don't go to bed until 11pm, in order to get all the dishes done each day, laundry folded, bills paid, meals cooked and stored for my husband's dinners at the office. I'm hoping that I will have built up a tolerance for this level of activity by next week, so that I can start getting up at 5:30 to sneak in the paddling. I'd really like to start going to bed an hour earlier, though. I don't think I'll last very long on less than 7 hours of sleep per night.
I tortured myself on a friends 'ab roller' yesterday, and it feels so good to be sore. I'm looking forward to paddling a couple days a week. I'm not upset at not paddling yet- I see the progress happening in other ways, and am confident that this will all pull together. I have to look long-term. This is going to happen. All of my greatest physical challenges have had a huge mental component, and I feel like I'm getting the mental conditioning going strong these days, so the physical will naturally follow.
What I'm trying to say, it I have yet to take the kayak out. However, thanks to skate-skiing, I recognize what is going on below the surface: I'm learning to swim in a hurricane. Much like when I added skiing to my life this winter, I am building my stamina to a new level. I get up and take care of our little farm, I clean the house, prepare many meals, run the errands, and parent the kids. All day, all night. And then get up and do it again.
Typically, I'm up at 6:30am and don't go to bed until 11pm, in order to get all the dishes done each day, laundry folded, bills paid, meals cooked and stored for my husband's dinners at the office. I'm hoping that I will have built up a tolerance for this level of activity by next week, so that I can start getting up at 5:30 to sneak in the paddling. I'd really like to start going to bed an hour earlier, though. I don't think I'll last very long on less than 7 hours of sleep per night.
I tortured myself on a friends 'ab roller' yesterday, and it feels so good to be sore. I'm looking forward to paddling a couple days a week. I'm not upset at not paddling yet- I see the progress happening in other ways, and am confident that this will all pull together. I have to look long-term. This is going to happen. All of my greatest physical challenges have had a huge mental component, and I feel like I'm getting the mental conditioning going strong these days, so the physical will naturally follow.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Life just got trickier
Oooo boy.
Life just gets more exciting every time I look up. Just when I'm finding my stride, I get to add something more into the juggling act.
My husband just got recruited for a job he simply must take. It's a three month gig, with almost no real pay, but the training, mentoring, and chance of making it big are huge. It's a start-up type of opportunity that many wish for, and he's worked really hard- he deserves a chance to bust ass.
The trick is, it really is busting ass. It's 7 days a week, all day and night. He'll be home for dinner and bedtime rituals with the kids maybe twice a week, and that's it. I'm on my own the rest of the time. We won't really see him at all. He'll be lucky if he clocks enough sleep to keep going strong. It's a major deadline push for him.
So for 3 months, I will be winging it alone, and if I want to take advantage of the warm season for paddling, I have to make it all happen before 8 am, and somehow have the energy to tend to the kids for another 13 hours after that, when they finally go to bed around 9pm. I'll have to scale back my tai chi attendance, sadly, to only once a week, and find someone to watch the kids for those couple of hours. (Did I mention that the in-laws are out of town for the next 2.5 months too? No grandparents to help out!)
I'll certainly get to explore another facet of endurance! Stay tuned....
Life just gets more exciting every time I look up. Just when I'm finding my stride, I get to add something more into the juggling act.
My husband just got recruited for a job he simply must take. It's a three month gig, with almost no real pay, but the training, mentoring, and chance of making it big are huge. It's a start-up type of opportunity that many wish for, and he's worked really hard- he deserves a chance to bust ass.
The trick is, it really is busting ass. It's 7 days a week, all day and night. He'll be home for dinner and bedtime rituals with the kids maybe twice a week, and that's it. I'm on my own the rest of the time. We won't really see him at all. He'll be lucky if he clocks enough sleep to keep going strong. It's a major deadline push for him.
So for 3 months, I will be winging it alone, and if I want to take advantage of the warm season for paddling, I have to make it all happen before 8 am, and somehow have the energy to tend to the kids for another 13 hours after that, when they finally go to bed around 9pm. I'll have to scale back my tai chi attendance, sadly, to only once a week, and find someone to watch the kids for those couple of hours. (Did I mention that the in-laws are out of town for the next 2.5 months too? No grandparents to help out!)
I'll certainly get to explore another facet of endurance! Stay tuned....
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Who am I doing this for, anyway?
Why am I doing this race? Partially for me. Straight-up. That's clear. I'm excited about the challenge.
But ever since I started planning, I've wanted to tie these efforts to something bigger. To raise awareness, and maybe even money, for a cause. I still haven't settled on one. There are so many!
Here are the ones I'm thinking about right now. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on which one excite you too.
1. Eliminating leprosy. Once you've been to India, you never forget it.
2. Midwife training in developing nations. Lowers mortality rates amongst mothers and babies.
3. Kiva.org. Any money raised keeps on giving through micro-loans that get repaid.
4. Seeyourimpact.org lets you directly help individuals in need all over the world. You get a letter and picture of the person you help.
5. Women's rights/literacy. From acid bath assaults to bombing girls' schools, this matters for humanity's progress.
6. Hieffer International. Give a family some animals they can raise for sustainable food and breeding. It spreads and helps the community.
7. Habitat International (Habitat for Humanity in other countries).
The non-profits I mention are personal favorites. I could be tempted to do something specific, like to raise money to build houses in Haiti for example. Or to build a well in a village that needs fresh water. Or send a midwife somewhere to train 20 midwives. I dunno. There are so many things I'd like to help with. Where should I start?
I'd love to hear some of your thoughts on this. Which cause do you think would draw the greatest attention and support from the general public? Do you have any leads for me?
But ever since I started planning, I've wanted to tie these efforts to something bigger. To raise awareness, and maybe even money, for a cause. I still haven't settled on one. There are so many!
Here are the ones I'm thinking about right now. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on which one excite you too.
1. Eliminating leprosy. Once you've been to India, you never forget it.
2. Midwife training in developing nations. Lowers mortality rates amongst mothers and babies.
3. Kiva.org. Any money raised keeps on giving through micro-loans that get repaid.
4. Seeyourimpact.org lets you directly help individuals in need all over the world. You get a letter and picture of the person you help.
5. Women's rights/literacy. From acid bath assaults to bombing girls' schools, this matters for humanity's progress.
6. Hieffer International. Give a family some animals they can raise for sustainable food and breeding. It spreads and helps the community.
7. Habitat International (Habitat for Humanity in other countries).
The non-profits I mention are personal favorites. I could be tempted to do something specific, like to raise money to build houses in Haiti for example. Or to build a well in a village that needs fresh water. Or send a midwife somewhere to train 20 midwives. I dunno. There are so many things I'd like to help with. Where should I start?
I'd love to hear some of your thoughts on this. Which cause do you think would draw the greatest attention and support from the general public? Do you have any leads for me?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Who is in your inner circle?
Something I've been learning living here in Boulder is that I shouldn't compare myself to others.
There is always someone more fit, more lean, more accomplished, more hard-core. It continues: more health-conscious, more natural with their eating and lifestyle, more educated, and heck, just plain smarter. I have a simple undergrad degree. Boulder has the highest number of PhDs per capita in the nation. Lots of well-read, well-studied folks. Lots of brave adventurers, courageous entrepreneurs and high-powered, effective activists.
I have always walked into a room feeling like the kid, the youngster in a crowd of accomplished, wiser people. Even when that means selling myself short. Comparing myself to those who have achieved much is usually the quickest way to downgrade what I *have* done with my trips around the sun.
Of course, the opposite is true too. I can easily take a look at national averages and feel pretty good about my standing. This breeds complacency. It can even lead to arrogance.
How can we avoid those odious comparisons while still finding inspiration and support from the efforts of others? Most people have a default imaginary circle of people who they feel are watching and judging them as they move through life. Sometimes parents, friends, teachers. Often there are negative judgments and defensive justifications involved. I read about this theory and can't remember the book, or I'd give credit for the idea. Anyway, I decided to be pro-active, and formed a group of carefully chosen people to be my inner circle who would serve as positive mentors.
So who is in my inner circle of peers? Who do I have my imaginary conversations with (Come on! You ALL do it!)? I've chosen some interesting folks, most of whom I've never met directly. I've heard stories about their lives, their works, or I've read their works. Most of them are from previous generations. Most are not famous. Hard working and creative ranchers, farmers, entrepreneurs and homesteading housewives. Philosophers, writers and deep thinkers. A hermit or two. Some spiritual leaders. People with grit, who accept that hard work is requisite for success and hold positive attitudes.
I'm inspired by their ingenuity, humor, gentle joy, persistence, pragmatism, honor, shrewdness, and a toughness that's almost been bred out of my generation. Or schooled out of us. Or... I don't know. We, as a culture, are just not as ass-kicking, snake-stomping, rock-hauling tough anymore. Yet we could be. We complain and make excuses more. These folks step up and get things done without all the fanfare. We admire it when we encounter it. It still exists, like a startling, delightful sighting of an endangered species. And we can consciously choose to restore these values. *(I'm not saying plenty of you out there don't work really hard. I just think we as a culture spend too much time watching TV, surfing the Net, etc etc and I notice I waste bits of time doing useless things in the name of 'unwinding' when there are productive things that can allow me to unwind, too)
So during the day, some of these fair folk lean over my shoulder when I start to zone out reading the comics or some silly digest of crap online and snap me out of it. "What can you be doing that is productive towards one of your goals, young lady?" It's not nagging or judgmental. It's friendly standard-setting. I respect and appreciate the chance to improve my lot in life, and hell, that's going to require hard work! It's not like I'm going change overnight. But I am changing.
At the end of the day, as I head to bed, I review my day with my inner circle. Good day, or wasted? Was there time I could have spent better? It's a nice way to review things. I find I take more and more joy in hard work done well, and not wasting time.
More often than not, when people ask me how I'm doing, I find it harder to complain, because the efforts I'm making leave me feeling satisfied, even if I'm tired. I'm content with working hard, and I have some great cheerleaders. If you haven't cultivated such a group, you should pick some too.
There is always someone more fit, more lean, more accomplished, more hard-core. It continues: more health-conscious, more natural with their eating and lifestyle, more educated, and heck, just plain smarter. I have a simple undergrad degree. Boulder has the highest number of PhDs per capita in the nation. Lots of well-read, well-studied folks. Lots of brave adventurers, courageous entrepreneurs and high-powered, effective activists.
I have always walked into a room feeling like the kid, the youngster in a crowd of accomplished, wiser people. Even when that means selling myself short. Comparing myself to those who have achieved much is usually the quickest way to downgrade what I *have* done with my trips around the sun.
Of course, the opposite is true too. I can easily take a look at national averages and feel pretty good about my standing. This breeds complacency. It can even lead to arrogance.
How can we avoid those odious comparisons while still finding inspiration and support from the efforts of others? Most people have a default imaginary circle of people who they feel are watching and judging them as they move through life. Sometimes parents, friends, teachers. Often there are negative judgments and defensive justifications involved. I read about this theory and can't remember the book, or I'd give credit for the idea. Anyway, I decided to be pro-active, and formed a group of carefully chosen people to be my inner circle who would serve as positive mentors.
So who is in my inner circle of peers? Who do I have my imaginary conversations with (Come on! You ALL do it!)? I've chosen some interesting folks, most of whom I've never met directly. I've heard stories about their lives, their works, or I've read their works. Most of them are from previous generations. Most are not famous. Hard working and creative ranchers, farmers, entrepreneurs and homesteading housewives. Philosophers, writers and deep thinkers. A hermit or two. Some spiritual leaders. People with grit, who accept that hard work is requisite for success and hold positive attitudes.
I'm inspired by their ingenuity, humor, gentle joy, persistence, pragmatism, honor, shrewdness, and a toughness that's almost been bred out of my generation. Or schooled out of us. Or... I don't know. We, as a culture, are just not as ass-kicking, snake-stomping, rock-hauling tough anymore. Yet we could be. We complain and make excuses more. These folks step up and get things done without all the fanfare. We admire it when we encounter it. It still exists, like a startling, delightful sighting of an endangered species. And we can consciously choose to restore these values. *(I'm not saying plenty of you out there don't work really hard. I just think we as a culture spend too much time watching TV, surfing the Net, etc etc and I notice I waste bits of time doing useless things in the name of 'unwinding' when there are productive things that can allow me to unwind, too)
So during the day, some of these fair folk lean over my shoulder when I start to zone out reading the comics or some silly digest of crap online and snap me out of it. "What can you be doing that is productive towards one of your goals, young lady?" It's not nagging or judgmental. It's friendly standard-setting. I respect and appreciate the chance to improve my lot in life, and hell, that's going to require hard work! It's not like I'm going change overnight. But I am changing.
At the end of the day, as I head to bed, I review my day with my inner circle. Good day, or wasted? Was there time I could have spent better? It's a nice way to review things. I find I take more and more joy in hard work done well, and not wasting time.
More often than not, when people ask me how I'm doing, I find it harder to complain, because the efforts I'm making leave me feeling satisfied, even if I'm tired. I'm content with working hard, and I have some great cheerleaders. If you haven't cultivated such a group, you should pick some too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
