I'm really sorry I haven't posted a retrospective on my Pelotonia ride here. I've been busy writing thank you notes to all my awesome donors who helped me raise more than $8,000 in pursuit of our goal to end cancer.
Quick notes: I rode strong. The 1,100 miles and 17,000 feet of climbing that went into my training paid off. I finished about an hour earlier than last year both days and kept up with folks who left me in the dust last year. It sure was fun on Sunday to announce "on your left" (the warning cyclists give when passing) to so many riders on the hills that fill the first 30 miles.
Here's a link to a video I made if you want to see the best 10 minutes of about 12 hours of cycling. https://vimeo.com/136087729
Here's a photo that wasn't in the paper but made it onto the blog of the photo editor of the local newspaper. See #8. http://www.dispatch.com/content/photo-blog/2015/08/best-pelotonia-photos.html
And here's my Facebook photo album. You can see it even if you're not on Facebook.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10107329900861731.1073741853.2027396&type=1&l=f7a79f991e
More later. Thanks for all the love and support! One Goal people. Let's end this thing!
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Friday, August 14, 2015
What Could Have Been
As many of you know, I'm a big fan of a music artist named Jason Isbell. His album, Southeastern, was released about the time I got out of the hospital in 2013 following my stem cell transplant. My son in law, Sean, told me about it and I was hooked from the first playing. Since then, I've listened to Southeastern about 98,736,434 times and his other albums about 82,347 times. He grew up in Alabama and his Southern aesthetic really resonates with me, he's a great song writer (John Mayer called him the greatest lyricist of our generation) and he's a great guitar player. Plus, he's had more than his fair share of struggles.
I saw him perform at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville last October and it was the first time he performed Southeastern in its entirety...coincidence? I think not. I also saw him in Columbus in February.
He released a new album last month and I've been dutifully listening to it. There are many, many songs that I love but one in particular, at this time, in my mood, is really effecting me.
This time of year always reminds me of my mom. Her birthday is July 9 and the date of her death is September 8. So, I think of her often in August. He has a song called "Hudson Commodore" that tells the story of a southern woman who dreams of a better life.
The woman in the song sounds really strong and independent and is able to build a life for herself and her children.
This is a photo of the car that Isbell sings about in the song that my mom might have seen when she 10 years old. How glamorous is that to the daughter of a blue collar worker struggling to provide for his family?
Here's a picture of her sometime around 1950. Can't you see her in some version of that car?
Unfortunately, my mom's mom never encouraged her to build that life for herself. She was in the age when a man provided that for you. Plus, my grandmother was so fearful and insecure and that attitude permeated my mom. A woman couldn't provide a good life for herself. My mom was so smart and resourceful that, with a little support and encouragement, she could have built that life for herself. But, she sold herself, and her dreams, short.
But what she did do, was marry someone who could help her rise above her upbringing. So, despite the limitations of her upbringing, my mom taught me to believe in something better. Her younger sister also gave me a glimpse of how a strong woman lived her life after she lost her first husband to a Naval aviation accident and her second husband to leukemia. And my dad taught me that, no matter how difficult the problem, you can solve it with enough work and resourcefulness. Wow, has that served me over the last few years.
Mom, I'm sorry you couldn't achieve all that you were capable, but I thank you for giving me the foundation that allowed me to do that. As I listened to the song and thought about my mom, I recognized that my mom's insecurity and underachievement is why I am so passionate about mentoring women to be strong and confident so they can achieve their potential--for my daughters, my friends and my colleagues.
If you're someone I've helped along the way, thank my mom. I think about how much it hurt when I lost my mom, I think about my disease and I think about my girls. I want to keep them from feeling that for as long as possible.
I go for a check-up next week. It's always a time of underlying anxiety but I'll continue on trying to do what Amy said, "Live the life God has given me" and make lemonade of the lemons while I'm at it.
And, as Jason says, no need to worry anymore.
https://youtu.be/-vF7W0BawO8
I saw him perform at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville last October and it was the first time he performed Southeastern in its entirety...coincidence? I think not. I also saw him in Columbus in February.
He released a new album last month and I've been dutifully listening to it. There are many, many songs that I love but one in particular, at this time, in my mood, is really effecting me.
This time of year always reminds me of my mom. Her birthday is July 9 and the date of her death is September 8. So, I think of her often in August. He has a song called "Hudson Commodore" that tells the story of a southern woman who dreams of a better life.
The woman in the song sounds really strong and independent and is able to build a life for herself and her children.
"Time between the glory days and the golden years
She did the work of 20 able men
Sent Tommy off to school to be an engineer
And Sarah went to try out all the sins
She took to taking tea out in the Belvedere
Bourbon in the evenings by the fire
As if the Great Depression never made it here
As if she had defeated her desire
She just wanted to ride in a Delahaye 135
She just wanted to ride in a Hudson Commodore
No need to worry anymore"This is the story of what my mom's life could have been like if she had grown up in a different environment. Her dad scraped an existence out of carpet and tile work in Jacksonville in the 30s and then Tallahassee from the 40s through the 70s. My mom, who was born in 1930, would go to the movies and watch the glamorous lifestyles depicted in those movies and dream of something better.
This is a photo of the car that Isbell sings about in the song that my mom might have seen when she 10 years old. How glamorous is that to the daughter of a blue collar worker struggling to provide for his family?
Here's a picture of her sometime around 1950. Can't you see her in some version of that car?
Unfortunately, my mom's mom never encouraged her to build that life for herself. She was in the age when a man provided that for you. Plus, my grandmother was so fearful and insecure and that attitude permeated my mom. A woman couldn't provide a good life for herself. My mom was so smart and resourceful that, with a little support and encouragement, she could have built that life for herself. But, she sold herself, and her dreams, short.
But what she did do, was marry someone who could help her rise above her upbringing. So, despite the limitations of her upbringing, my mom taught me to believe in something better. Her younger sister also gave me a glimpse of how a strong woman lived her life after she lost her first husband to a Naval aviation accident and her second husband to leukemia. And my dad taught me that, no matter how difficult the problem, you can solve it with enough work and resourcefulness. Wow, has that served me over the last few years.
Mom, I'm sorry you couldn't achieve all that you were capable, but I thank you for giving me the foundation that allowed me to do that. As I listened to the song and thought about my mom, I recognized that my mom's insecurity and underachievement is why I am so passionate about mentoring women to be strong and confident so they can achieve their potential--for my daughters, my friends and my colleagues.
If you're someone I've helped along the way, thank my mom. I think about how much it hurt when I lost my mom, I think about my disease and I think about my girls. I want to keep them from feeling that for as long as possible.
I go for a check-up next week. It's always a time of underlying anxiety but I'll continue on trying to do what Amy said, "Live the life God has given me" and make lemonade of the lemons while I'm at it.
And, as Jason says, no need to worry anymore.
"A doctor then a lawyer then a Roosevelt
Tried to take her underneath their wing
She was in her 20's in the Bible Belt
Before she knew she didn't need a thing
She didn't need their pity on a single girl
She didn't need their help to raise the brood
She wouldn't be returning to her daddies world
She didn't want a better attitude"
https://youtu.be/-vF7W0BawO8
Sunday, August 02, 2015
40
If you go to the "About" page on this blog, you'll see a verse from Psalm 40 at the end that is the inspiration for my writing--"Your righteousness have I not hidden in my heart, I have spoken of your faithfulness and deliverance, I have not concealed your love and faithfulness from the great congregation." Psalm 40:11 But it's not just that verse that I find meaningful. Pretty much all the verses before it describe my journey so far.
Which is why the U2charist that my church holds every year in our town's Irish Fest is so meaningful to me. A U2charist is a traditional Episcopal Eucharist that features the music of U2. Many U2 songs have a deeply spiritual element to them and there are biblical references throughout. Their song "40" from one of my favorite albums of all time, "War", is the beginning of Psalm 40 set to some pretty stripped and haunting music. It's always the Psalm in a U2charist.
The chorus always reminds me that God has brought me through some tough times and given me a new life--
It's a question we wrestle with, a lot. Yes, I know, none of us know how long we have and there's always the proverbial truck that could hit any of us. But as my friend Kim, who has Amyloidosis and Multiple Myeloma, said in her blog--"I can be taken out by a standard issue truck tomorrow like anyone else. But I also know there is a truck out there with my name on it. (It’s probably teal in color) And I can’t lie. That changes you." I totally agree with that...except the truck with my name on it is probably orange, right Debi?
So, I'll keep trying to make sure the way that realization changes me is positive, count on my friends and family members to call me out when those changes aren't positive, and trust God to take care of the rest.
I was thinking about the coincidence of our U2charist being held in the Shamrock Tent and how shamrocks are supposed to be lucky. But, I've never really trusted luck. It's in God's hands with an assist from medical science.
So, I'll ride....and I'll pray....and I'll pray while I ride...180 miles for cancer research in 6 days.
Which is why the U2charist that my church holds every year in our town's Irish Fest is so meaningful to me. A U2charist is a traditional Episcopal Eucharist that features the music of U2. Many U2 songs have a deeply spiritual element to them and there are biblical references throughout. Their song "40" from one of my favorite albums of all time, "War", is the beginning of Psalm 40 set to some pretty stripped and haunting music. It's always the Psalm in a U2charist.
The chorus always reminds me that God has brought me through some tough times and given me a new life--
I will sing, sing a new song.
I will sing, sing a new song.But the next few lines remind me of the fragility of my remission and the risk of relapse
How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long, how long, how long
How long to sing this song?Today, sitting in the Shamrock Tent at the Irish Fest, signing those words with my husband and my best friend sitting with me and Claire up on stage serving at the altar, I got tears in my eyes (which I usually do when I sing that song.) I looked over and Al had tears in his eyes, too.
It's a question we wrestle with, a lot. Yes, I know, none of us know how long we have and there's always the proverbial truck that could hit any of us. But as my friend Kim, who has Amyloidosis and Multiple Myeloma, said in her blog--"I can be taken out by a standard issue truck tomorrow like anyone else. But I also know there is a truck out there with my name on it. (It’s probably teal in color) And I can’t lie. That changes you." I totally agree with that...except the truck with my name on it is probably orange, right Debi?
So, I'll keep trying to make sure the way that realization changes me is positive, count on my friends and family members to call me out when those changes aren't positive, and trust God to take care of the rest.
I was thinking about the coincidence of our U2charist being held in the Shamrock Tent and how shamrocks are supposed to be lucky. But, I've never really trusted luck. It's in God's hands with an assist from medical science.
So, I'll ride....and I'll pray....and I'll pray while I ride...180 miles for cancer research in 6 days.
 |
| That's Claire on the right. Thanks Spencer Pugh for the picture. |
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