Friday, November 22, 2013
My friend Lee, explained to me the idea of doing lower intensity workouts in hopes of me riding me frequently. As we talked it dawned on me that while the miles weren't that great (yet)... the intensity of some of these hilly climbs were really sapping my energy in the days after the ride. Lee suggested I take shorter rides and make them more often... aiming for at least a daily ride. Today's ride was considerably shorter... less than half the distance of yesterday's ride, but I barely feel it. Makes me wonder if I could squeeze in a second ride later today before it gets dark.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
|Feeling the sun on my face on the first seriously cold day of fall. |
Reminded me of a poem from Richard Brautigan, one of my favorite writers.
My Nose Is Growing OldYup.
A long lazy September look
in the mirror
say it's true.
and my nose is growing
It starts about 1/2
below the bridge
and strolls geriatrically
for another inch or so:
Fortunately, the rest
of the nose is comparatively
I wonder if girls
will want me with an
I can hear them now
the heartless bitches!
but his nose
is old."by: Richard Brautigan
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
It seems like the fall has become one big celebration. We go straight from Halloween into Thanksgiving and Christmas all the while tripping over the Jewish high holidays. It is a heck of a time of year! In our family, we celebrate all sorts of different things this time of year.
November 8th, 2009 was the day I walked out of the hospital. With the help of Ken's hiking sticks beside me, I stumbled out the sliding doors. Everyone was sure that I would fall and be unable to lift myself back upright. It was icy that morning. Our friends, Jan and Dave came to give Nancy and I a ride home from the hospital. Jan was sure I was going to die getting up the icy stairs into our house.
Fast forward to last weekend... I was photographing the schooner, the When and If, as she traveled along the canal between Cayuga and Seneca Lakes. I caught up with the crew as they brought family and friends on-board for the last stretch down Seneca Lake and into Watkins Glen on Saturday. My goal was to photograph the boat as it motored under the bridges and around bends in the canal, while taking in the last of the autumnal colors.
Everything was going great until I decided I wanted a better angle under this particular bridge. As I threw my legs over the guardrail and started traversing the wet grass, down the slope of the embankment, I noted that my shoes really weren't the best choice for the day's walking. No sooner had I looked down, when WHAM! My feet slipped out from under me and my gear and I went for a muddy ride down the embankment with my head bopping out a staccato beat against the wet ground.
When I finally stopped sliding, I sat up, checked myself, my gear and realized I had come pretty close to knocking myself out. The camera was fine, but I was now covered in mud. Worse, my shoulders felt like a 2yr old was about to crawl out from between my shoulder blades. My back seriously needed an adjustment! But I still had more photos of the boat to capture before she slipped into the locks at Waterloo.
Needless to say, I captured some wonderful images of the schooner as she made her way through the locks... but more to the point, the fall didn't ruin the day. So why this long winded story? Four years ago the surgeons, doctors and nurses were all convinced I would never walk again without a walker or cane. They were sure I would need at-home nursing care. Now I am back on my bike and riding as often as possible, even with the weather getting colder.
As we celebrate the changing of the seasons, I tend to look into that bleak sky and smile, knowing that the cold north wind means that I am alive and on this side of the coma. That means that there's hope... and that is worth celebrating.
Monday, November 4, 2013
Saturday, November 2, 2013
On Wednesday, after getting the When and If into the water at the marina's launch, the crew motored her up the canal and moored for the night in Seneca Falls. As I have come to understand, when you're working with a narrow window of good weather, you change plans accordingly.
When I arrived this morning, the When and If was sitting silently on a very still canal, just where she's been since Wednesday. Today the plan was to motor from Seneca Falls through the locks in Waterloo, and then down Seneca Lake to her next temporary home in Watkins Glen.
The day started out still and grey with foreboding skies on the horizon. By the time the crew and friends were loaded on board, the sun peaked out from behind the clouds and gave a nice warm glow to the waning autumn colors on shore.
In the past, I have stood and watched as boats have passed through the locks in Waterloo. It is such a fascinating way of moving vessels. At some later date, I'd like to write more about the whole process. Today however, it was all about watching this beautiful vessel sail off down the last bit of the canal into the expanse of Seneca Lake.