The problem with blogging something that happens annually is coming up with fresh material, a new perspective on the same old thing. I've written lots about Ironman before and thought I'd share links to my favorite posts from years gone by for those of you who are new to Ironman lunacy or who simply want to take a stroll down Memory Lane.
Happy reading!
Just Tri-ing to Understand 2008
IM Moo in Review from 2009
When There Was Still Hope from 2010 (George DNF'd that one)
Tri-Maniacal Post from 2013
Now I'm off for fresh material from this year's IM Moo.
Friday, September 9, 2016
Thursday, September 8, 2016
IM Moo...Again
A week ago, an odd situation came up around this year's Ironman Wisconsin, and George said to me, "If you don't want to go, I understand."
"Oh, no. I'm going," I replied.
"Thank GOD! I can't do this race without you!" he exclaimed.
He's right. Well, sort of. Technically, he could do it without me, but it would be much, much harder. For one thing, after he raced 140.6 miles, he'd have to retrieve his bike and all his heavy transition bags and hike them to the hotel all by himself.
This chore is apparently so hard in the utter state of exhaustion at the end of a race that racers are seriously tempted to leave all the gear behind...including the $6,000 bicycle.
"After all," the devastatingly exhausted racer tells himself or herself, "I'm never, ever doing this race again."
I've heard these words, spoken by my beloved husband, and laughed and laughed and laughed.
If you don't know an Ironman, you might not get the joke. You see, no matter how much most Ironman finishers hate getting kicked in the head on the 2.4-mile swim (which resembles nothing so much as salmon spawning), no matter how much they hate their bike at the end of 112 miles, no matter how solemnly they swear they'll never run another step for the rest of their lives at the end of the 26.2-mile run, they will do it again.
They will.
Because they are lunatics.
At least, that's my conclusion.
Fortunately, they are the sort of lunatics you want to have around for entertainment value, not the terrifying sort that try to get you to join them in their masochistic shenanigans. After all, someone has to stand on the sidelines and cheer them on.
If you'd like to follow George and a few of his lunatic friends who are tackling Ironman Wisconsin (affectionately referred to as IM Moo), stick around Questioning for the weekend. There will be photos and videos and jokes and all sorts of amazing physical accomplishments by racers...and even by a certain blogger, who will heroically retrieve George's heavy bags and nasty, sticky, sweaty bicycle and schlep them to the hotel while he's trying not to pass out or vomit on the marathon course.
I do this because I love him and, more importantly, because abandoning a $6,000 bike in the Monona Terrace parking lot simply isn't an option.
A note to email subscribers...if you wait for the posts to arrive in your mailbox, you'll miss some of the fun. On Sunday, I'll link to the live feed of the finish line and keep you posted during the day about George's progress. It'll all be old news Monday morning. Check in and refresh the page if you want to follow along.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
What the World Needs Now
Love.
More of it.
This morning, I celebrated the commissioning of six new Stephen Ministers at our church. Our other leader, Zandra, and I had the privilege of training them, and they are each amazing caregivers, full of love and compassion. When I got home from church, I found out about the murder of 50 people in Orlando and the injury of many others.
Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." He was right.
I pray there are lots of caregivers (and hopefully some Stephen Ministers) in Orlando to provide hands-on care for so many families and friends who are grieving and for survivors who are traumatized by this act of domestic terrorism. As the aunt of a niece who is transgender, I don't understand this kind of hate. Not at all.
But I do know that responding in hate solves nothing, helps nothing. In fact, it makes the situation worse. Please do not add to the hate and fear in social media. Spread love. Spread compassion. Spread peace.
And support the helpers. There are always helpers.
More of it.
This morning, I celebrated the commissioning of six new Stephen Ministers at our church. Our other leader, Zandra, and I had the privilege of training them, and they are each amazing caregivers, full of love and compassion. When I got home from church, I found out about the murder of 50 people in Orlando and the injury of many others.
Martin Luther King, Jr., said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." He was right.
I pray there are lots of caregivers (and hopefully some Stephen Ministers) in Orlando to provide hands-on care for so many families and friends who are grieving and for survivors who are traumatized by this act of domestic terrorism. As the aunt of a niece who is transgender, I don't understand this kind of hate. Not at all.
But I do know that responding in hate solves nothing, helps nothing. In fact, it makes the situation worse. Please do not add to the hate and fear in social media. Spread love. Spread compassion. Spread peace.
And support the helpers. There are always helpers.
Monday, May 30, 2016
Social Media Hate Storms
Just south of where we live, at the Cinncinati Zoo, a gorilla was shot dead when a child fell into its enclosure. The ensuing hate storm on social media scares me sick.
When did we become a nation of people without mercy or compassion? This situation is a tragedy all the way around. The zoo's enclosure wasn't fool-proof, or five-year-old proof. That will, no doubt, be fixed. But the hate and scorn and derision leveled at this boy's mother shocks me.
Who among us parents has never had a preschooler slip away from us? I lost Jack at the Cinncinati Museum one day. One second he was right beside me, and the next he was gone. The following 15 minutes of my life took at least 15 years off my life. He was safe. But it all escalated in an instant.
Who among us has perfect attention, perfect awareness, perfect control of our our children at all times, every minute of every day, in every situation?
Not. One. Of. Us.
So why the scorn? Why the hate? Why the desire to humiliate and punish and tear down a mother who was, like all of us, human? Because we've become a culture of blame and reactionism, and social media gives us the perfect outlet. Everything is somebody's fault, and we use social media to shame and condemn others, full of righteous certainty that we are better than that person.
"I would NEVER lose control of my child at a zoo. I would NEVER look at the animals instead of my own child when visiting a zoo. I would NEVER assume that zoo enclosures are child-proof."
Really?
Of course some things are criminal and blame-worthy. But this is determined by courts of law and due process, not Facebook page or post likes. Thank God and our country's Founding Fathers for that.
Long before social media gave everyone a format for expressing their hate, people passed judgment on others without mercy and without taking time to consider our universal human condition. In the early 1990s, a coworker's son drowned in a lake on the Fourth of July. People refused to contribute to the fund we collected for funeral expenses because they didn't want to help the parents in any way. Their negligence allowed their son to die, their reasoning went, so why should they give them any help?
These parents have lived every day since knowing their responsibility for their son's death, pondering "if only we had...." I cannot even imagine their pain and suffering and guilt. My heart broke for them.
Despite all our best efforts, accidents happen.
Let he or she who has not sinned cast the first stone. Instead of blame being our first reaction in social media, let's offer compassion, or at the very least silence. Let's humbly recognize that we could, at any time, become like that mother...guilty of being a human being.
Mercy. Grace. Compassion. Love. These four tools give us what we need to fight the hate storm in social media.
How will you use them?
When did we become a nation of people without mercy or compassion? This situation is a tragedy all the way around. The zoo's enclosure wasn't fool-proof, or five-year-old proof. That will, no doubt, be fixed. But the hate and scorn and derision leveled at this boy's mother shocks me.
Who among us parents has never had a preschooler slip away from us? I lost Jack at the Cinncinati Museum one day. One second he was right beside me, and the next he was gone. The following 15 minutes of my life took at least 15 years off my life. He was safe. But it all escalated in an instant.
Who among us has perfect attention, perfect awareness, perfect control of our our children at all times, every minute of every day, in every situation?
Not. One. Of. Us.
So why the scorn? Why the hate? Why the desire to humiliate and punish and tear down a mother who was, like all of us, human? Because we've become a culture of blame and reactionism, and social media gives us the perfect outlet. Everything is somebody's fault, and we use social media to shame and condemn others, full of righteous certainty that we are better than that person.
"I would NEVER lose control of my child at a zoo. I would NEVER look at the animals instead of my own child when visiting a zoo. I would NEVER assume that zoo enclosures are child-proof."
Really?
Of course some things are criminal and blame-worthy. But this is determined by courts of law and due process, not Facebook page or post likes. Thank God and our country's Founding Fathers for that.
Long before social media gave everyone a format for expressing their hate, people passed judgment on others without mercy and without taking time to consider our universal human condition. In the early 1990s, a coworker's son drowned in a lake on the Fourth of July. People refused to contribute to the fund we collected for funeral expenses because they didn't want to help the parents in any way. Their negligence allowed their son to die, their reasoning went, so why should they give them any help?
These parents have lived every day since knowing their responsibility for their son's death, pondering "if only we had...." I cannot even imagine their pain and suffering and guilt. My heart broke for them.
Despite all our best efforts, accidents happen.
Let he or she who has not sinned cast the first stone. Instead of blame being our first reaction in social media, let's offer compassion, or at the very least silence. Let's humbly recognize that we could, at any time, become like that mother...guilty of being a human being.
Mercy. Grace. Compassion. Love. These four tools give us what we need to fight the hate storm in social media.
How will you use them?
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Random Observations on Inattentiveness
Two weeks ago, my car was fatally rear-ended by a woman who wasn't paying attention.
Don't get me wrong. I'm eternally grateful neither Jack nor I was injured in the crash. I wish the woman driving the other car well and hope her injuries were superficial. (She was transported to the hospital but appeared to be mostly okay.)
But my car was rear-ended for the third time in 18 months, this time fatally.
I really loved that car, a red Mazda CX-9. It gave its life for me and Jack, performing honorably. I miss it.
The consequences of her inattentiveness have surprised me in the past two weeks, so here are a few random musings upon those consequences.
1. Ambulance-chasing lawyers are killing trees. The amount of junk mail I've received (including two identical mailings from a single lawyer which arrived on the same day) is preposterous.
2. After three rear-endings, a person is apt to become a bit paranoid about cars coming up from behind. It occurred to me that a giant sign on the back of my new car might make me feel better. "Please Don't Hit Me!"
3. Whatever we're paying police, paramedics, and firefighters isn't enough for the amazing work they do. On the day in question, the wind chill was near zero. To a person, every first responder was polite, caring, compassionate, and kind. The police officer who took us home even helped the tow-truck driver unload my groceries from the wrecked car. My heart overflows with gratitude for them.
4. I mentally shut down at the prospect of buying a new car. I'd rather have another root canal. Fortunately, my husband had my back on this one, performing a spectacular speed-shopping feat of bravery (engaging car salespeople takes courage). He found me a close replacement for my vehicle at a pretty great price. All I had to do was show up and sign papers. Thanks, honey!
5. When you want a red CX-9 right now, it's a sure bet the only color available within a two-hour radius of your home will be black.
6. On Tuesday, I drove the new car to a cafe before Bible study. As I left the building, mocha in hand, I saw a shiny new black car parked on the side of the road and thought, "What a pretty car!" I did not recognize it as mine. Emotional ownership will come, but slowly.
7. Going from two more years of car payments to five just plain sucks.
8. Having both a black car interior and a golden retriever forces you to let go of obsessive neatness, which will lose to dog fur every time. The saddest part of having dog fur in my new car: the dog's not even set a paw in the car yet. The fur floats in on the people.
9. Going behind the gate of a giant, deserted, body-shop parking lot to retrieve the registration from your totalled vehicle on a Sunday afternoon makes you feel like a bad-ass.
10. To the guy who almost slid into my not even a week-old car at a traffic light on a snowy Friday morning...thank you for your quick maneuvering. Had you hit me, the police would have had to lead me off to the psych ward. I truly would not have been responsible for my actions.
10. Pay attention out there, folks. Our cars are fun and convenient and useful and sometimes even cool, but they are big and potentially dangerous. Be safe.
Don't get me wrong. I'm eternally grateful neither Jack nor I was injured in the crash. I wish the woman driving the other car well and hope her injuries were superficial. (She was transported to the hospital but appeared to be mostly okay.)
But my car was rear-ended for the third time in 18 months, this time fatally.
I really loved that car, a red Mazda CX-9. It gave its life for me and Jack, performing honorably. I miss it.
The consequences of her inattentiveness have surprised me in the past two weeks, so here are a few random musings upon those consequences.
1. Ambulance-chasing lawyers are killing trees. The amount of junk mail I've received (including two identical mailings from a single lawyer which arrived on the same day) is preposterous.
2. After three rear-endings, a person is apt to become a bit paranoid about cars coming up from behind. It occurred to me that a giant sign on the back of my new car might make me feel better. "Please Don't Hit Me!"
3. Whatever we're paying police, paramedics, and firefighters isn't enough for the amazing work they do. On the day in question, the wind chill was near zero. To a person, every first responder was polite, caring, compassionate, and kind. The police officer who took us home even helped the tow-truck driver unload my groceries from the wrecked car. My heart overflows with gratitude for them.
4. I mentally shut down at the prospect of buying a new car. I'd rather have another root canal. Fortunately, my husband had my back on this one, performing a spectacular speed-shopping feat of bravery (engaging car salespeople takes courage). He found me a close replacement for my vehicle at a pretty great price. All I had to do was show up and sign papers. Thanks, honey!
5. When you want a red CX-9 right now, it's a sure bet the only color available within a two-hour radius of your home will be black.
6. On Tuesday, I drove the new car to a cafe before Bible study. As I left the building, mocha in hand, I saw a shiny new black car parked on the side of the road and thought, "What a pretty car!" I did not recognize it as mine. Emotional ownership will come, but slowly.
7. Going from two more years of car payments to five just plain sucks.
8. Having both a black car interior and a golden retriever forces you to let go of obsessive neatness, which will lose to dog fur every time. The saddest part of having dog fur in my new car: the dog's not even set a paw in the car yet. The fur floats in on the people.
9. Going behind the gate of a giant, deserted, body-shop parking lot to retrieve the registration from your totalled vehicle on a Sunday afternoon makes you feel like a bad-ass.
10. To the guy who almost slid into my not even a week-old car at a traffic light on a snowy Friday morning...thank you for your quick maneuvering. Had you hit me, the police would have had to lead me off to the psych ward. I truly would not have been responsible for my actions.
10. Pay attention out there, folks. Our cars are fun and convenient and useful and sometimes even cool, but they are big and potentially dangerous. Be safe.
Monday, January 11, 2016
Unintended Consequences: Dog Hair
Years ago, when I started my minimalist wardrobe project, my plan included black pants, skirts, and jackets, which coordinate simply and perfectly with colorful shirts or sweaters. But the sad truth is this:
My black fleece jacket, which I basically wear all winter even inside because our house is freezing, currently looks like this:
That's right. I had a cuddle with Daisy the Golden Retriever this evening, so the jacket is particularly hairy, but in truth, the picture pretty much captures the norm.
You try not cuddling a Golden who thinks she's a lap dog. You're not really given a choice. Besides, cuddling a Golden lowers your blood pressure and reduces stress.
It's science, people!
When I go to church on Sundays, people--mostly older ladies--pick fur off my clothes. It used to be embarrassing, but now, well, I've basically given up.
I choose to make a virtue of necessity and view the fur as a necessary accessory, but when the elbows wear a bit more on this jacket, I think I'll replace it with charcoal gray.
That might help hide the fur.
Or not.
Whatever.
Just keepin' it real.
 |
| Source Unknown |
That's right. I had a cuddle with Daisy the Golden Retriever this evening, so the jacket is particularly hairy, but in truth, the picture pretty much captures the norm.
You try not cuddling a Golden who thinks she's a lap dog. You're not really given a choice. Besides, cuddling a Golden lowers your blood pressure and reduces stress.
It's science, people!
When I go to church on Sundays, people--mostly older ladies--pick fur off my clothes. It used to be embarrassing, but now, well, I've basically given up.
I choose to make a virtue of necessity and view the fur as a necessary accessory, but when the elbows wear a bit more on this jacket, I think I'll replace it with charcoal gray.
That might help hide the fur.
Or not.
Whatever.
Just keepin' it real.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Like the Fool I Will Always Be
Earlier this year, I had a dream in which I floated on a dark and infinite ocean. Impossibly huge waves lifted me and occasionally curled over my head, but I felt oddly at peace, calm, not worried about drowning at all, even when utterly submerged and tumbling in the water. As I drifted under the water, the thought drifted through my mind that sharks or other monsters might be in the water with me, ready to attack out of the darkness, just like the monster that lived under my bed when I was a child. But the thought of these leviathans caused no distress as I floated. I didn't fight or fear.
I floated and trusted.
Unlike most of my dreams, which disappear in the first fizzy minutes of consciousness each day, this one stuck with me, and the images of water, waves, and floating pop into my head almost daily, especially in the past two months.
I've body-surfed through 2015. The year's final months held a lot of grief and sadness and unwanted change, and also held great friendships, wonderful support, boundless love, and amazing grace unmerited. My response to all the negative things has largely been to meditate on staying afloat in an ocean storm.
"Don't fight the waves, Susan. Just ride them in a spirit of trust and gratitude for all the positive things."
Then, today, I read this quotation from Roald Dahl.
Superficially, Dahl's words and my dream have very little in common, unless you care to interpret merely floating as being lukewarm, which I do not. Floating generates far too much peace to be in any way bad. Instead, I think these two thoughts complement one another; they are, in a sense, different sides of the coin of life.
On the obverse of the coin, much of what happens in life is outside our control. Friends unfriend us, crises crop up, loved ones die. We can't stop these things from happening, as much as we might want to, and so floating through them, processing them, accepting them, trusting that things all work out in the end...this makes sense.
On the reverse of the coin, we have control over some things, like how we choose to use our gifts, how we choose to treat others, how we respond to the blessings that pour onto our lives like honey from the hive. We can choose to open ourselves enthusiastically to the good in life and throw our energy into multiplying that good stuff, spreading it around in a world starved for peace, love, and grace. This also makes sense.
If you're wrestling with resolutions this year, perhaps my dream or Roald Dahl's words or both together might help.
Do you need peace? Are you fighting the waves, tilting at windmills, running on a treadmill, exhausting yourself? How might you find peace this year and learn to float, trusting that life is what it is? Pursue peace.
Have you lost enthusiasm, become cynical or jaded or simply lost? How are you throwing energy into negative things, which will drain you, instead of throwing energy into positive things, which will fill you up? Be an enthusiast.
Instead of resolving to lose weight or eat more vegetables, I resolve to float in faith and enthuse with energy. I suspect that being an enthusiast leads to peace, and that in finding peace I will also have lots of energy to hug and love my passions. I also suspect that at times I will fail spectacularly at both resolutions, but even baby steps forward in both will be wonderful.
Care to join me?
I floated and trusted.
Unlike most of my dreams, which disappear in the first fizzy minutes of consciousness each day, this one stuck with me, and the images of water, waves, and floating pop into my head almost daily, especially in the past two months.
I've body-surfed through 2015. The year's final months held a lot of grief and sadness and unwanted change, and also held great friendships, wonderful support, boundless love, and amazing grace unmerited. My response to all the negative things has largely been to meditate on staying afloat in an ocean storm.
"Don't fight the waves, Susan. Just ride them in a spirit of trust and gratitude for all the positive things."
Then, today, I read this quotation from Roald Dahl.
 |
| Source |
On the obverse of the coin, much of what happens in life is outside our control. Friends unfriend us, crises crop up, loved ones die. We can't stop these things from happening, as much as we might want to, and so floating through them, processing them, accepting them, trusting that things all work out in the end...this makes sense.
On the reverse of the coin, we have control over some things, like how we choose to use our gifts, how we choose to treat others, how we respond to the blessings that pour onto our lives like honey from the hive. We can choose to open ourselves enthusiastically to the good in life and throw our energy into multiplying that good stuff, spreading it around in a world starved for peace, love, and grace. This also makes sense.
If you're wrestling with resolutions this year, perhaps my dream or Roald Dahl's words or both together might help.
Do you need peace? Are you fighting the waves, tilting at windmills, running on a treadmill, exhausting yourself? How might you find peace this year and learn to float, trusting that life is what it is? Pursue peace.
Have you lost enthusiasm, become cynical or jaded or simply lost? How are you throwing energy into negative things, which will drain you, instead of throwing energy into positive things, which will fill you up? Be an enthusiast.
Instead of resolving to lose weight or eat more vegetables, I resolve to float in faith and enthuse with energy. I suspect that being an enthusiast leads to peace, and that in finding peace I will also have lots of energy to hug and love my passions. I also suspect that at times I will fail spectacularly at both resolutions, but even baby steps forward in both will be wonderful.
Care to join me?
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