Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

Hi.

Been stuck on the period after the word Hi for over an hour now.

I’m gonna give up on clever, comforting, wise, insightful.  I’m just gonna go with pain, sorrow, and sadness.  I don’t think there is anyone who reads this blog who doesn’t know what has happened in our family; Amy’s longtime boyfriend took his life in Knoxville on June 9.

We have grieved beyond words.  Each member of our family loved this boy.  We had the joy and honor of watching this boy grow up from a teenager into a young man.  We love his family.  We will miss him every day.  He was warm, kind, quirky, gentle, and helpful.  He was always up for whatever adventure we would invite him on (and you know the meaning of that in our family).

We have learned the sad lesson about the power of depression.  We have reached out to those around us to make sure they know we love them and that we can be counted on for help if they need it.  We have worn a groove in our brains trying to figure out why, and if anything could have been done to prevent this.  We have embraced his family in a way to comfort them and get closer to him.  Amy and I both spoke at his service and were overwhelmed by the community response at his visitation – a tribute to his lovely family.

After all the ceremony, visitation, and logistics, we are now beginning our lives without Bobby.  We are finding moments of joy and even now can remember and reflect with laughter.  Ragbrai will be tough; Bobby has gone for the past two years.  His family has already had a sibling birthday, and Father’s Day.  A friend of the family has structured a Facebook page on which we’ve all added videos, photos, and memories of Robert.  What a joy to have had this young man in our lives for the past 5 years.

I have lots to blog about – the girls have returned from their academic year in Paris and California, I competed in a sprint tri in Tullahoma, Ben has passed through, the girls and I got to do a little at Bonnaroo (Norah Jones, Avett Bros, John Prine, Stevie Wonder).  I’ll try to write and upload pictures in a bit.

Training has been lacking (non-existent for two weeks), but I ran today for the first time.  I was not looking forward to it, but I did it on the property, and even in this atrocious heat and humidity, it felt great to be out.  Tomorrow is either a ride or a swim, and I’m really excited about it.

My fave iPod shuffle was Sheryl Crow’s I Was Always On Your Side – listen to it.

Thanks for reading.

Well, on the first day of the 50 experiment, I’m going to completely change direction.  It would have been a fabulous first-time experience, but I’ve done it before, so it doesn’t count.

Today in Murfreesboro, as in many cities, there was a bicycle ride staged to memorialize those individuals who have been injured or killed riding bikes.  It was a silent ride, single file, through the city, slow, of about 10 miles in length.  It was moving, and effective.  The Murfreesboro Police Dept supported this event as escorts and the folks we passed were awfully respectful, stopping their cars and conversation as we rolled by.  My pictures are not great, but I’ll post them anyway to give an idea of what it was like.

I want to add another essay I wrote a couple of years ago when I participated in something like this for the first time (it was before I began the blog; I recorded it in Facebook notes).  I still miss my friend Jim, and still care for his lovely wife Sandy and their beautiful daughters.

I’m in love with this girl.

Don’t get freaky or weird.  She’s my daughter.  And I’m irretrievably, hopelessly, helplessly, lost in love with her.

She’s beautiful, but everyone’s kid is beautiful.  She’s smart.  Everyone’s kid is smart.  She’s ambitious, gifted, kind, generous, loving, spontaneous, and funny.  So is everyone else’s kid.

It just so happens that I am in love with this kid.

This girl, at age 20, packed a backpack (including her French/English dictionary and her hulahoops) and took off for a year in Paris.  Art major, French minor, University of Tennessee exchange program.  Her trip over in August incidentally included a week on the Midi canal with her very continental British squeeze and fellow college student, Sam.

Then her solo venture began.  Moving into her dorm and attending her classes, via Paris Metro, working out meals, money, communication, all independently.  There were calls home, Skyping for this generation,  but she was on her own in the City of Lights.

High priority was locating museums.  The Louvre.  (Corporate, too big, touristy, and overrated).  The Musee d’Orsay (impressionist’s dream).  The Quai du Branley (oh, mommy, it’s my favorite).

Then there was the food.  This girl is a dedicated vegetarian, moral, political, and nutritional (notwithstanding her trainer mother’s high-protein, low carb dogma).  She found markets and grocery stores, online sources for protein powder (a nod to her mom), local wine caves and tasting rooms, bakeries/patisseries – all she needed for surviving and thriving the big city.

And thrive she has.  I have just spent 3 days with this precious fruit of my loins, and it is food to my soul to say that she is as happy and as healthy as I could have hoped to have found her.  I see her in her 9 square meter apartment (no author’s embellishment), I see her ascending and descending her 6 flights of stairs several times a day, I see her interacting with merchants, tourists, Metro employees, street people, and I couldn’t be prouder.

She has embraced this opportunity to grow, learn, and develop with a fierce intensity.  She has immersed herself in the culture, the language, the lifestyle, and has done so with a spirit of adventure, and humor, and open-mindedness.

This was the one we worried about.  She comes from a family of physically adventuresome people.  She has athlete siblings, physically active parents, mainstream sports-minded competitors.  She has taken that heritage and developed it with her own twist into a performance-oriented sport of hula-hoop athleticism.  She has performed at Club Queen to the tune of, well, more euros than either her mom or dad make on an hourly basis.

Her “apartment” is a mess – a delicious, art-student, charcoal-paint-sketchbook-makeup-Metro-ticket-coffeepress-euro-pounds-dollars mess.  She has organic cilantro in the fridge and toxic cleaning chemicals on the shelf.  Bustiers, bras, and boyshorts on the shelf and flipflops on the floor.  You can see the Sacre-Couer from her window, and the balcony of a high-rise, uber-expensive apartment that she admitted she was jealous of.  She has art books, philosophy books, and journals on her bookstack, and Starbucks coffee in her grinder.

I love everything about this human.  I loved sleeping in her twin bunk with her for three nights, hearing her breathe, reaching over and rubbing her back and shoulder while she slept.  I loved her sense of humor when we youtubed funny videos that we cracked up over.  I loved having a tremendously significant moment with her at the bottom of a bottle of white wine about life and love.  I loved giggling with her in the catacombs when we got the security guard to break his own rules and take a flash picture of the two of us.  I loved that she cooked me a veggie burger after we chopped and diced and sauteed together.

Oh, the love of a parent for a child.  I would, without flinching, without hesitation, without thought, die for this person.  Her happiness, while only now indirectly related to me, is one of my ultimate goals.

For now, that goal is seen.  She is balanced, content, not without trials, but able to manage and find the moment as it presents itself to her.  She’s secure in her life’s philosophy, but still open to learning, growing, evolving, changing.

I’m in love with her.  I can’t get enough of her; I count each moment with her as joy.  Observing her journey is one the privileges of my life, and there are breathtaking seconds when I can’t believe I get to be her mother.

My precious girl, I could not be prouder of you.  Stay open, keep growing, don’t stop learning, trying, reaching.  You are spectacular.

Thanks for reading.

This post will not be directly related to training.

It won’t be directly related to travelling, food, nutrition, children, work, play.

It will be indirectly related to all of those things.

I’m already behind, I know.  Sometimes great ideas occur in a timely manner, and sometimes they don’t.  This one was a little slow on the uptick, but I think I can make it work.  Ready?  Open your mind…

This year is my 50th birthday year.  The Ironman was a big part of my celebrating that milestone day; a family cruise in December is another I have planned.  Today during my 75-minute run, it occured to me that I should have been celebrating this entire year.  I am so humbly grateful to be reaching 50 years old.  I’m so grateful to be healthy and loved, and to love.  Every morning when I open my eyes, I think:  “I get to be here one more day!”  In the spirit of celebrating that joy and gratitude, I intend to do 50 new things this year as I turn 50.  One of my life mottos is “When is the last time you did something for the first time?”

Here are the parameters:

50 New Things to Do the Year I Turn 50

A.  It has to be something I haven’t done before.

B.  If you suggest it, and it goes on my list, count on me asking you to do it with me.  Count on doing it with me.

C.  Because I have gotten started late, my goal is to finish the list by Dec. 31, 2010, but I can push all the way into May 18, 2011, the beginning of the 365 days of celebration (my actual birthday is November 18, squarely in the middle of the 365 days)

D.  I will blog about each event.

E.  The events can run the spectrum; so far I’ve already got fire-hooping (guess who’s doing that with me?), eating ostrich meat, skydiving, hiking Mt. LeConte (I know, how did I miss that?), attempting an Ironman (check), completing an Ironman, watching Dr. Zhivago (missed that too).

I’ll try to post all the ideas I’ll get from friends and family, then assemble the list of 50.  May 18 is the start date, but I can count any of them that I’ve already done since Jan 1 of this year.

So, watcha got????  Remember, Dora, suggesting streaking through Publix, while a cute dare, will mean you doing it with me if it goes on the list, and lots of ruthless, relentless calling-out if you refuse, so consider your suggestion wisely.

In the spirit of gratitude to be on this big blue marble, as I reach 50 I am profoundly grateful for every one of my friends and family, more grateful than I can begin to express.  In evolutionary terms, my purpose on earth has been served, since I have reproduced myself and given my genes the opportunity to live on.  Those terms just serve to make me that much more awed at this bonus time I get.  I know how very lucky I am, and it is in that spirit that I ask for your help with my birthday celebration!

Thanks for reading, and this time, thanks too for writing!