Happy. Healthy. Heathen.

To continue with our story…

I blogged earlier about the significance of the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa.  What an intriguing place.  They’ve tried to preserve it as much as possible to 1959 appearances, down to even the coat check.

Good friend and fellow therapist Mandi Parker knew the history due to her Iowa heritage and told me that The Bopper was the Chantilly Lace singer.  Also, Waylon Jennings, a very young man at the time, traded his seat to Richie Valens just as they were leaving for the airport.  Oh, Bobby, you would have loved this place.

The next picture is another story.  Riding into a town down Main Street, we heard the “Free Beer” call, and never being a team to pass that up, we stopped and indulged.  When we started asking for who to thank, and why, we were directed into the house where the table was full of food of all kinds, just because.  The lady of the house refused any donation (“Oh, Goodness NO!”), and said she was just so excited about Ragbrai coming through her town she had been cooking for days.

About a mile off-route on the last day, we were directed to the Field of Dreams house and ball field.  We had been through there before, in about 1993, and have a picture of Ben on the pitcher’s mound.  The field was too crowded for the same picture with Aden, but we took one at the field.

This Ragbrai had been billed as one of the fastest, shortest, and flattest.  However, on the last day, the day into Dubuque, we had a little different picture.  We had been hearing about Potter’s Hill all day long; we knew it was steep, and we knew it was about a mile.  We did not know it was an 11% grade.  I have never walked my bike up a hill.  Until Saturday.  But here’s the best part:  Flava Flave pulled Aden up the hill in the kiddie cart.  He’s a beast, and he impressed all of us.  I think Aden may have been playing his DS at the time.

And that brings us to the Mississippi River.  I’ll try to get more pics from the other riders of some of that – I stopped short at the bus for my shower.

It was as good a ride as we have ever had.  Except for one rainy morning, the weather was flawless – moderate temps, low humidity, cool nights, and it really was a flat, easy, short ride.  The team was great, and we were so fortunate to have our sweet Aden along!

Thanks for reading – last full week of July, 2011!

I said I would try to catch up the post, and since we leave for Ragbrai Friday and I’ll be wanting to post about that adventure, here’s the catch-up post!

When Amy and I left England, we left Glenda behind with BF Sam for another week.  We flew to JKF, then Atlanta where we got a short visit in with my brother who was recovering from surgery.  Then a quick drive home to Nashville, where son #2 had arrived from New Zealand.  If you’ve been reading the post for a while, you’ll remember that Sam introduced us to the NZ treat Tim Tam cookies (2 chocolate covered graham cookies with creme between).  The Tim Tam Slam has the added feature of dipping a corner of the cookie into hot chocolate and sucking the liquid through the cookies, completely disintegrating the whole chocolate gooey mess…

Then we took the bus up to Gallatin for a trial run to a family get-together.  Aden went with us and we spent a delightful day catching up with relatives.

We played a bit with Amy’s hair, thanks to Shannon and her magic touch, and as I write this blog Glenda (who made it home from England) is in the chair having her turn going red/orange/yellow!  Pics to come.

Last night we did yet another trial bus run – friends Emily and John, Shannon and the boys, Mike and brother Casey hopped in for a quick drive to dinner.

So that brings us to now, at Shannon’s hair salon, still trying to get everything ready for Ragbrai.  The next blog should be Ragbrai-oriented as we leave Friday at 4.  Bus is great with the new turbo engine, and I’ll post pics of this years improvements.

Thanks for reading!

…home again, home again, jiggety jog.

(If anyone knows where that rhyme is from, let me know!)

GREAT trip to England, what and all if it was only 5 days!  Amy and I are safe and dry at home; Glenda stayed behind to attend Sam’s college graduation, and to see his parents again.  There’s so much to tell, I’m going to let the photos walk me through the visit…

In March of this year, at the Lake Taupo Ironman in New Zealand, I met Irongirls Ali and Liz.  They live in Woodchurch, England (which is near Ashford, which is near Kent, which is near Canterbury) and are just about the nicest people I have ever met.  We became fast friends in the few days of race preparation, became Skype and Facebook friends, and have now established a fine tradition of transatlantic visiting!

We arrived in London where the girls met us and brought us to their absolutely charming country home about an hour’s drive south.  Callie and Monty, the canine contingency, and George, their feline counterpart, met us with wags and enthusiasm.

Later in the day, Liz drove the girls and me to Canterbury where we left them in Sam Miller’s care.  (He’s working at the Embassy school again as director.)  That evening, Liz and Ali’s neighbors, Jade and Liam, had a cookout and I got to spend the evening listening to the delightful accents and trying to pick up on the nuances of British lingo.  The food was delicious – don’t believe what you hear about English food – this cookout was fabulous!

That night I had an adventure when, because I left my window open, I had an unexpected visitor:  a little lost bat came flying into, and then around, (and around and around) my bedroom.  I tiptoed to the girls’ room to let them know the noise they were about to hear was a bat roundup.  This was not as tricky as it sounds – he had lighted by the time I returned, so it was just a quick matter of covering him with a towel and flapping him back out the open window.

The next day the girls had a wedding to attend in London and I spent a luxurious day with no cell phone, no car, just me, my Kindle, the Tour on TV, and the pets.

Sunday we took a delightful little bike ride around the English countryside – not on my list of 50, but should have been, and now can be marked off!  We went into the the town of Tenterden (?) where we had a scone (another first) and then later a bittershandy (half  bitters – kind of a beer – and half lemonade – most refreshing drink EVER!).

The next day the girls (daughters) and I met up and went into London.  Glenda and I have both been to the city, but Amy hadn’t, so we hit the usual tourist highlights on our walking tour.

The next day, we went sightseeing in Canterbury, with its spectacular cathedral and quaint shops.

Tuesday night found Amy and I back with the girls at their house.  We did a quick road trip to Hythe, a little coastal town where we had yet another traditional offering, fish and chips.

That night, we had yet another encounter with a bat, but this time I had help from Amy, Ali, and Liz in capturing the little bugger and flapping him back out the window.

Did I write that the girls had only just returned from their Ironman Austria experience?  I cannot resist posting this picture of their dining room.

I mentioned earlier in the post that Ali and Liz were about the nicest people I’ve ever known.  That is not just my subjective opinion; I can cite examples.

1.  I am infuriatingly spontaneous.  I sent Liz and Ali an email on Tuesday night telling them I’d be leaving Wednesday morning – they skyped me by 8am, insisting that not only would they pick us up in London at the airport, but that I would be staying with them with the use of their second car.

2.  They reminded me to pack my riding shoes and pedals for us to go for a ride.  Of course I didn’t get that done, so they configured a bike for me to use with my sneaks, even finding cages for the pedals!  This is not as easy as it sound since I’m so much taller than they are.

3.  They allowed me to take their precious Callie on a run with me along a trail loop.  (Honestly, she was not as much help with directions as she led me to believe she would be, but she was great company).

4.  I left the window open the day I went sightseeing in London.  The girls realized this when their experience with a bat began…3 bats in 3 days (beginning and ending with my arrival and departure).

5.  I ran out of English pounds in Canterbury and wasn’t able to get more, so the girls not only bought our fish and chips in Hythe, but Liz went in a dead sprint to and from a cash machine in an effort for us to catch our bus to Heathrow, which we didn’t succeed in doing, leading us to needing yet another ride to the train station, on a morning when they had an important council meeting to attend.

6.  In spite of the fact that I knew it was Great Britian, I neglected to pack any kind of a jacket.  I borrowed what turned out to be one of Liz’ favorite sweaters (jumpers), and she was nothing but gracious.

7.  They waited on me, offering me coffee, vodka!, food, first showers, more blankets, clean towels, and I expect Liz would have ironed my clothes if I ever wore ironed clothes.

These girls were the ultimate hosts, besides being warm and funny and interesting and kind.  I am inspired by them, moved by their relationship to one another, humbled to call them friends, and so looking forward to their visit to the U.S.  Love you Girls!!!!

I promise I’ve been working on my list of 50…since I last blogged, Sam has come home (woo hoo – after a year in New Zealand!) and now we are getting ready for Ragbrai, so I vow to update as soon as I can!

Thanks for reading!

To my dear flight attendant:

I made a covenant of sorts with myself when I started writing this blog that no matter the time frame, no matter the insignificance, no matter the minutae of the moment, I would seize the opportunity to write about things which affected me; this is one of those moments.

I am on the plane, somewhere over the Atlantic, on my way to England to 1) share an adventure with my girls (refer to Promise Made To Children, 1993) and 2) to visit with my Irongirls, my friends Lizzie and Ali in Canterbury, my sweet sisters from Ironman Lake Taupo.  The girls (the daughters, not the friends) and I were very strategic in our planning and chose a flight most likely to allow us to ride in Business Class; we were successful in our strategy!  I am in seat 1B, and am peacefully digesting a delicious experience (cannot call it a lowly meal) of champagne, vodka-cranberry juice appetizers, steak, shrimp, salmon, cheesecake, port, and cheeses.  Around the second vcj-with-lime, my flight attendant (did you know you actually have “your” flight attendant up in business class?!  OMG) leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “You have no idea how much I wish I were you right now!”  This came at a time when I had my feet up in the La-Z-boy seat, I was reading my Kindle, sipping my drink, and was chatting with my seat mate.

I live a life of gratitude.  For as long as I can remember, and particularly for all of my adult life, I have had profound moments of absolute and complete joy and bliss for simply drawing breath, having eyes that see and ears that hear and senses that feel and a tongue that tastes and a nose that smells.  Tonight, on this airplane, at that moment, I experienced one of those astounding events.

I love my job.  I love both halves of it:  the challenge of the personal training and the intensity and energy and commitment that it requires, and also the joy of the massage therapy and the calm and healing it brings.  But there are moments when, as I assume everyone does, even those of use who fiercely love our jobs, each of us would rather be in another place, doing another thing.  Sometimes when my posse is meeting for beer or wine after work and I still have a 5k run to help a client through, complete with cheerleading and encouragement and advice and direction, or another 90 minutes of massage on a muscular, damaged, aching body, I host my own little pity party of waawaawaa.

So, dear flight attendant, thank you for your 13-word comment.  Thank you for reminding me to let the moment take me.  Thank you for serving me and doing such a great job at YOUR job.  Thank you for being open, and honest, and genuine, and funny.  I hope you’ll read this, and it will give you a moment of gratitude and reflection.  Perhaps not; you have already served to help me appreciate a moment I would have thought I was already grateful for; thank you for showing me another angle of that gratitude, in a routine moment played out over and over and over again all around the world.

When you are relaxed and peaceful and having one of those spectacularly overwhelming moments of serenity and contentment, remember the girl in 1B, in whom you choose to confide, to whom you chose to be open….thank you.