How many years does it take to make a good chinker?

Funny, but when I was in graduate school studying marriage and family therapy, I didn't realize so many things about my future.

I didn't know I wouldn't have a conventional life style. I never thought I wouldn't be the person who had the sticker of the two big people and two little people holding hands on the back of her van. Working five days a week seemed inevitable. Was there a west coast in 1987?

I romanticized living out in the country. Fire burning in a big stone fireplace. Dogs and cats running around willy nilly. Children sitting quietly doing homework. (Why I thought that, I have no idea. I was the one doing her homework on the hour long ride to school in the am and pm.) And the house, it would be a big log home.

Apparently, I have done something right with my life. Because I don't own a big friggin' log home....that I would have to caulk and chink the big a-- holes that appear in the logs.

O.K.? I like my work. After the first four hours of moving extension ladders, climbing up and down said ladders, refilling chinking guns, swearing at bee/wasp nests and smile graciously at every homeowner who walks by with their dog, chat chatting about the weather while I'm hanging by my toes and knees, holding a gun over my head that weighs more than my pt would approve of....I don't like it so much.

On the other hand, I am outside every day. And today was a beautiful sunny day. And, more importantly, none of the neighbors were around. All I heard were birds chirping and bees buzzing....and my ipod. A girl has to rock out a little during work.

bike weekend

Ladder calisthenics on Friday with 5 hours of tai chi paint moves followed by a small one hour mountain bike ride with two sage leaping hounds. G and T, dinner and wine provided by Darrell and I was knackered!

Saturday brought out the road bike for three hours. I'm still not ready for Darrell to ride with me because his pace is brutal enough that I feel like I'm working at race pace the whole time we're together. I toured the Heber/Midway valley checking out all the homes for sale...many...and used the the roads running east to west for short intervals. I am not disciplined enough to gear up and peddle hard so knowing where the roads naturally rise for a short distance is the best way for me to give myself a work out.

Sunday was the best day of the weekend. After relaxing for the majority of the morning on the back deck, we decided to ride lost prospector to gambel oaks to solamere to dv and back. Doc is a roadie but I don't hold that against him. After 2.5 hours of chasing the bunny, I was worked!

A most excellent weekend! My back is finally feeling good enough to start racing again. It's a light work week so I plan on racing Wednesday. A lamb going to the slaughter.

The colors of summer

PICTURES SAY MORE THAN WORDS.

Just hanging around

Peter Pan

Its like looking at a cartooon.

A raindrop in the ocean.

My backyard is the latest roost for all the birds. I like to sit on my deck and listen to them gossip. I find it one of the only times I can sit in solitary peace.

Edo, (my strength trainer/boss/ski teaching co-worker/friend), and I were talking about plants yesterday. Unlike most years, this year I am concerned about plants and bulbs rotting from all the moisture. Crazy, huh?! Not only are they getting all this extra rain, but the sprinklers are still running full blast for fear we'll end up with a dry spell.

I told him I was going to move some plants around so they would have a better chance of surviving. He said a curious thing. He said the owner problem wasn't worried about the carbon footprint he was making so a few plants dying wasn't going to make a great difference to him.

Sadly, it's true. Most things are dispensible, including people. We barely have a chance to make an imprint in this world. I took the time to look at my path. I realize I won't be one of the people in this world leaving a trail of dinosaur tracks. I guess I could throw a temper tantrum, demanding a memorial left in my honor..

In the meanwhile, I'll move the plants around with the hope that they will survive to see a more typical summer in Utah. After that, I will put my feet up and listen to the newest gossip in my backyard.

Demons tap dancing on the soul

The hollow echo of footsteps in a long empty hallway. You know the hallway that was just filled with running feet, chattering voices and swells of laughter so one person, one instance doesn't stand out. Then, school is over. A single sound, thought, feeling stands alone exposed to the brilliance of the day.

Drama. It is really a thought and only a thought. Sometimes when life is moving along uninterrupted, the past can roll up like your best friend. It throws an arm over your shoulder and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Nothing specific, just hints of memories.

But, I have never really cared for tap dancing so I turned that channel off and went for a mountain bike ride with Darrell. There is nothing better for eluding that sticky sap like substance called emotion than exercise.

We met at PC ski area. I'm pretty sure I radiate crankiness and he has a finely tuned radar for its shimmer. It's a little bit like the butterfly dust only it doesn't take away my power to be cranky when he ends up with it all over him. Lucky man.

We had a great ride up spiro to midmountain and eventually Johns trail. I still have quite a bit of back pain when I climb in a bigger gear. Darrell fiddled with my saddle height, dropping it about a cm. I still had discomfort but it wasn't as bad as the initial spiro climb. As a matter of fact, I felt like I was climbing stronger and definitely used my middle chain ring more. I'll know better on tomorrow's ride how my back really feels.

We wrapped up our ride after 2 hours and change. El chubasco called our names so we joined the rest of the plebian masses and had a late lunch.

Funny how a little exercise exorcises ghosts.

go, go, go

Some people have to cork their little genie in a bottle so the little sucker doesn't fly around granting some random loser his wishes. (A few assumptions here. One, I am not positive a genie can fly. Two, a genie may be able to pop a cork and, thus, escape.)

Me, I have throw my "type a" personality in national security lock down in order to have a real day off. Doc helps me establish my morning mantra. Well, that's a lie because as soon as my feet leave the bed, they don't usually make it back under the sheets. While I skate around in glorious Dorothy Hamil like circles in an innocent, yet sexy short uniform, he's rubbing sleep rubble from his eyes and praying for his simple life back.

I can't help it. When the dogs give me the happy tail wag and run me over to get out the front door, I'm awake. Especially the mornings when I see the sun breaking over the Wasatch mountains.

One might assume that means a long bike ride. Nope. Cut and color. I stand firm on the ideals of Miss America, Miss Universe and any other beauty queens out there...I refuse to have gray hair. Make fun, yuck-yuck, I just don't bloody care. I will not kowtow to gray.

I even got to play tag a deer on the way to SLC. Two gracefully lept out in front of my "slowly" moving car. I made it between the two, a feat accomplished by few, driving a mere 80 miles an hour. I try, I try, I try to drive slower. It is just not possible. It is one of my few real faults. Zip it doubters.

Two and a half hours later, WTF...removing gray hair is worse than dandelions, both the scurge of modern society.....I drove a measley 65 miles per hour back to PC. Holy hell, color my hair blue why don't you interstate 80 drivers!

My find of the day. Oops, Shelagh found it, I coveted and bought it. A dakine soft bike case, never used, for 65$. Maybe 65 is a lucky number after all. Or, maybe my genie escaped from the cork, not plastic mind you, stopper.

Lunch with Mapleleaf, it is now 2:30 and I'm home. I said okay, okay, I'll sit down and read a book. It's a day off, time to relax and not feel guilty. NOT! Threw on some sneakers, grabbed some gardening gloves and tools and off to the back yard I went.

I won the battle with some obnoxious vine growing over my lilac bushes on Tuesday. Two hours of ripping rain nourished green shit from my plants and trees ended with me leaving it strewn all over the back yard. Sigh. Double sigh.

Throw the ball for Rocky, fill a bag of yard waste. Throw a ball for Rocky, cut another dead limb from a tree. Get it. Three hours later and I now have decorated a spot in my backyard with big green garbage bags filled with natures loving goodness and a pile of dead wood to haul to the dump. Yah, me.

Then, I sat down and read a book. No, I didn't shower because I don't care if I'm smelly and dirty. The dogs think I'm more interesting that way. Doc is tackling his own yard so he won't know the difference. I have trained my dogs to act like they will eat the neighbors so they won't approach my house. All my friends are either riding the ms150 or doing something way more interesting than driving through Heber......easy feat.

A relaxed day in the life and times of MT. I would have ridden a bike but Doc is promising to accompany me on a mountain bike ride tomorrow. Oh the things a roadie will do to keep peace in the house. Relax kids...hug a loved one and put your feet up.

Thunder, Lightening, Destwuction

Bella and I need to take off 20 lbs. I'm not saying who needs to take off how much because I wouldn't want to embarrass my sweet pup. I'm just sayin. One or two glasses of wine, oreo cookies, a penchant for bread...ahhh...I mean too many dog biscuits, snagging one too many rawhides...

So as part of her exercise plan, I took them for a walk and swim this am. I attempted a mountain bike ride this pm. The dogs started dancing around the car while I was putting the wheel on the bike. They bolted off into their happy leaps through the sagebrush. Yetta, yetta.

Hail the size of my eyeball started pitching itself out of the sky. The lightening had the decency to wait until we were on the logging road back. It took one huge clap of thunder and the dogs were out of the stream and charging home.

Did anyone else's parents tell them it was giants bowling in the sky when thunder rumbles? Just asking.

Needless to say bike, dogs and me were hosed down when we got home. It was great fun but I wish we could have been out longer than an hour. Oh well, one less treat for Bella and me tonight.

Ruth and Theresa's most excellent adventure.

Do you know how out of whack a week off a bike throws me? Back aching, hammies screaming on Tuesday from gardening pretty much convinced me I have no fitness. I sat on the recliner with my computer for the evening, refusing to even contemplate my three bikes.

I was more interested in drinking piss than racing at Solitude Wednesday night. However, I knew I had to ride or all hell would break loose on my waist line. Nick, Mike and I got some time in at DV before the concert. Guess what? I really love mountain biking. Duh!

I met Ruth at the new Ski Team pad. She gave me the deluxe tour. It was pretty and all but she didn't let me stay very long in the gym with all the male rookies.....can you say yummy! Btw, our Ruth has her very own office. Mmmhmm, that's what I'm talking about.

I did notice that Troy and his crew get all the fun toys in their area, climbing ropes, skate park, trampoline, a big pit filled with sponges, as well as the whole gym. So what I'm understanding here is if I'm diligent and a hard worker, I get a cool third floor office. But, if I'm a screw off with an almost PhD, I get to lead a pack of hoodlums in play. Oh, and a pretty swanky kitchen with all the latest and greatest.

Ruth and I spent two hours pedaling around prospector and gambel oaks. We took one of my favorite trails,( do not remember the name, just know I love it), back to prospector. This trail is tight and rootie, with lots of twists and turns. The light rain made the trails just wet enough to slick up the roots and throw a little mud up. Perfect!

The perfect end to a day. Ruth and Troy are off to ride the MS 150 this weekend so I'm on my own with the mt bike. Oh well, I'm pretty good company and no fights will break out.

power to the puppies and the peeps

Dogs are healthy. Hmmm, except Bella smells like a skunk, thank you very much Nickee.

Going home hasn't been much fun the past few years. This weekend was different. I walked into JC Susie and Johnny Tsunami's house and right into their arms for some big hugs. I immediately felt like I hadn't left town for 14 years.

Doc and I spent time with all the people who mean the most to me, T&D, Bobby and Sandy. Best of all, I had more time with my sisters than I ever have. I also spent quality time with a brother who I was close to for so many years but felt estranged with over the past couple.

But, seeing all of them cemented something for me. Our lives are separate and different. I could never live back in Massachusetts. I knew that when Mum died but I didn't know it was because I am happy in Utah. I like living here.

Maybe when I can't swing a leg over a bike saddle, or, bend over to buckle up ski boots, or, all my friends go back to their own countries and states, maybe then I'll move back. I don't think so but I'll keep the window cracked open for the opportunity.

The best part?? The best part is no matter what I decide, Johnny and Susy will keep the light on for me.

Coffee talk...tomorrow...

Strung like catgut.

I fly home tomorrow to participate in Mum's relay for life. It isn't really hers but the significance of her memory looms inside my heart so it is only for her.

One of my sisters told me that if I have unresolved issues about Mum's death, then the survivor walk will tear me up....because Mum was a survivor.

Two thoughts come to mind for me. I laugh at unresolved issues....in hysteria. I scoff at the childlike need to cry whenever I think of Mum. I am humbled by my desire to wish her back to life to listen to my daily loops of humor and pain.

The other thought...I tremble to write this down. But, my childish heart says, Mum was not a survivor. She is dead so what is this garbage about surviving?!

I am heavy with that thought. I know it is the reaction of an angry kid and not the reality of her life.

I fly home tomorrow with the hope that some sadness can be put to rest and that I will finally feel I honor her memory in a way she truly deserved.

Lyna took this picture at the Deer Valley race. There are lots more on her page. Troy took the top picture in 2007 at the start of

the Ruthie and Theresa friend adventure.

I guess I had to post these because I realized how much I like our smiles. She's moved up on the grown up work ladder and I still hang off them like a monkey. She fits me in her work shedule when she can and I put away my gardening tools for the chance to ride mountain bike with her. Ruth and Troy have slid so seamlessly into my life that I forget most of the time that I have only known them for a few years.

Deer Valley held a funeral tonight for one of their long time staff members. She died unexpectantly and very suddenly.

It is simply a reminder to me. Eat dessert first.

Measuring success

The bar is set high in Utah.

No, I don't mean the one Billy Bob sits at while he swills a can of Bud.

It's the one we set in our own minds when we decide to pack our bags the night before a race that can possibly take place in a small tsunami.

It's the morning of the race when we fill our feed bottles and load our bikes to drive while peering at the dark skyline.

It is the realization that just driving to the race site means we will race even if the weather turns to a cat 5 hurricane just because we are there and it makes some sort of weird sense.

And then, during the race, it is the battle of finishing when the body says I don't want to play and the mind cries in submission.

It is the single sound of someone yelling your name that makes you turn back up the hill to do another lap.

Crossing the finish line to see the faces of people who believed even when you didn't.

And lastly, hearing a friend say that Ruthie inspires her to race.

Simple things that make every silly thing make sense and every serious thing silly.

Knowing that one single solitary step is aided by the hands of many.

Measuring success.

DV course isn't so muddy really.

What's that string for.....?

To do lists don't work for me. I may not have time to do the chores on the list but I could make a 3 pointer with the paper. I'm considering changing the "to do" name to "honey do" except Doc already has a stack of papers from 1960 0n his desk.

Maybe strings on the fingers would work. You know, to remind me to run that errand, call that handyman, drown the barking dog in the neighbors yard...stuff like that. Except I would start color coding them just out of some anal retentive, yet unproductive desire and eventually make myself crazier than I already appear to be to my friends.

Damn, I just did it. Made another note to stop at the log store place to pick up some foam for chinking a home we're doing in Solamere. Sure enough, if I just did a mental check, I would remember to stop at the store. Now that I have written a note, I'm sure to forget to go!

It's like being on a tandem only there are more than two seats. I start pedaling only to realize I don't have enough seats to carry that days customers. Chuck-a-rama, (not the restaurant), starts to happen. Usually, during a work week, relationships are the first to go off the saddle. Fortunately for me, Doc has his own tandem and tows me around frequently so I get off easy on that one.

Since he does that, I have to decide who the co-captain will be for the day. Saving energy for riding and working a pretty physical job duke it out regularly. In the past as a certifiable,(yup, certifiably crazy), coach, I have kicked Levi to the rear so Lance can giddy-up for the win. Not so much this year. I have made a conscious decision to put 100% into work and hope the racing survives the muscle fatigue. It does, barely.

There you have it folks. Another crazy post from MT. Most days, I find it easy to let life sit on the co-captain seat. It's crunchy, it's touchy feely....but I won't be the person who wishes instead of does.

I will, I am, I did........

LRRH. Little Red Riding Hood.

Like many things I decide to do, there isn't a whole lot of premeditated thought involved. Where most people operate on the "Ready, aim, fire.", I operate on the "Ready, fire, aim." I like to step right in the middle of the quicksand and then figure out how to escape. Life is more exciting that way.

A few months back I was in the middle of some righteous feeling nostalgia. I was mooning about the loss of Mum to cancer and feeling more unfortunate than Oliver Twist. (At least he didn't have someone browbeating him to nordic ski and ride bikes while trying to survive 7 grueling hours of cold teaching skiing.)

LRRH came on the radar just in the knick of time for me to decide that I could kill two birds with one stone. Ride in my mother's memory and get fit.

Hah, if you are a cyclist then you know the seam of purely selfish motivation in that statement. I mean, really, if I was acting on pure unselfishness and desire to help the greater good, I would have let someone take five bags of blood from me. Or, donated bone marrow. Or, even, donate a kidney or a uterus to some needy individual. (I hope everyone hears my self criticalness and cynicism here.)

Yeeesss, I did carry Mum's angel on the century..and three miles.... (I did feel closer to brimstone and fire during the last 50 miles of headwind.) Yup, I thought about her most of the ride....cursing her for delivering me as a female who would eventually ride LRRH. Yessirree, I did think about her when my back burned with pain for the first 70 miles. (I'm sure this is from the multitude of chores I did as a kid....oh wait, she did all the housework, yardwork. Ok, maybe it was the trauma of thinking about the nonexistent chores.)

But mostly, I thought about myself. I battled muscle burning, bone poking demons. I questioned my habitual desire to check off yes to questions before reading the full sentence. I wondered about friendships and where I would be without most of them. I wondered why I would rather pull the group than sit in.

And I thought, "I would rather be sitting in pain in the throes of living than sitting on the sidelines eating chocolate cake." Mostly, unless the cake had big chunks of heath bar crunch and gooey chocolate chips.

Again, sometimes my decisions seem to be made with a poof of air and a wink of the eye. In the end, I always come out with a sigh of relief that I'm still alive. The pain is momentary, the success is huge.

And......I got to eat a piece of twinkie birthday cake and not feel guilty!

Everything is hard until it's easy.