Bikes not Bombs! &, Adventures in Boystown

The year was 1988. At least, that's what I imagine it to be. In actuality, it could have been any time from 1987-1992. These moments are hard to pin down.

I was riding with mom on a hand me down pink bike with a banana boat seat from Kellie. It was amazing. The seat was white with a pink stripe down the middle. I recall adding streamers to the handlebars and those florescent color spoke accents on the wheels. Those were the days.

Instead of riding around the block or pretending the bike was a horse when we played "the olden days" or a car when we played "soccer mom," or a cab when we played "when I grow up I will be an architect," that pink thing was a bike. And I was pedaling quickly as my mother in a bandanna and shorts was running over the overpass near Good Intent Road.

Gloucester County has really good street names like Break neck Road that flies through Mantua or Good Intent Road in Deptford. When I was older I always thought, hmmm where are we going- The path to Hell is paved with Good Intentions, so maybe Hell was really, after all, the Mall. Now I think, maybe maring the failure of actual success with a good intention was speaking to all of this suburban madness. But, at the time, I was young and I lacked the cynicism that makes me who I am today.

I was just biking and mom was just running.

Yesterday, Diana and I reshot the scene on a 7.5 trek along the waterfront. Let me tell you, that girl can bike slowly and as much as she was impressed with me for fighting with the wind for 1:11:34, debuting the first run of the season with barely sub-10 minute miles, I was impressed with her skills, too.

It was a glorious morning that turned into a glorious day. Running through parks, by the triathletes training, the volley ball players diving in the sand, the roller bladers and the marina we later stopped at the farmer's market. mmmm. running and eating ain't bad.

I also finished Three Cups of Tea, which I highly recommend. Books Not Bombs...Bikes not Bombs...it's all the same. Let's stay away from the bombs, friends, even if you're just eating your way to peace after a good run. Five words: Practice Loving Acts of Kindness.

Ain't over til the Fat Lady Sings

Or croaks. Or however you want to understand that I haven't forgotten that I have a marathon to run in three months. (3 months, oh sweet jesus!!)

I have taken a long, long time off from the blog, without announcement. Shame on me. But, never fear this cynosure has returned to write about her training attempts.

This weekend we got ourselves to Falmouth for the Road Race. H ran all 7 miles although he hadn't trained one mile since the 5K we ran in June. To my great disgrace, I ran only 5 miles. I don't know how I ever ran a marathon.

The winner ran 4:3X minute miles.

So as I choke, digesting that fact, I think I better up the ante!

Esplanade meet Sr. Sanz, ("Con mucho placer")

Many years after the fact, I am not ashamed to admit that I did indeed purchase Alejandro's CD 'mas' directly after it was released. I went to El Corte Ingles in Alicante. The basement housed the department store's music collection. I went and paid homage alonge with cash dues to this lyrical genius knowing that after my short lived love affair with the backstreet boys, ( I saw their concert in Barcelona) I would be truly devoted to this man. It was the tumultuous spring of 1997 and I needed these ballads in my discman like no other 16 year old girl.

I would run, one of the only people running in Alicante, through the city, along the waterfront lined with palm trees and past the ocean. That's where I learned the lyrics to Mas, alternating Mariah with Alejandro for variety.

A decade later, I'm still willing to admit that Mas continues to have fair play time in the car's CD player. That says alot. While I spend roughly 40 hours a week at work, I spend most of the rest of that time, running, doing yoga or in my car. Ira Glass and Terry Gross may get honorable mention but Senor Sanz still holds his ground.

So why the post about this Spaniard?

Sure, he quickly faded from the scene after his duet with Shakira. She permitted him a spot, (for marketing) on her Tortura CD. In the US we know Ricky Martin and the father and sons, Eglesias, but Alejandro Sanz isn't as pop culture. Too bad. Because this was the first day I've trained for the marathon that I've taken to the full extension of running on the Charles. From Harvard and Cambridge Port, down the MoS, through the Esplanade, back over the Mass Ave bridge to Trader Joe's. It was a 90 minute run against the wind. And this lyrical genius popped into the shuffle and a jolt of adrenaline shot through me. Sure I was listening about the woes of a heartbroken man but what poetry! True stories of a successful playist.

Someone on YouTube even gives you the translation: Si Hay Dios...

...Lloraré si se llorar
como el tímido rocío de un clavel en mi soledad
estaré, todos se irán, ya lo sé
a tu lado en cada golpe iré
como lo hacen las orillas y la mar
como lo hace el campo y el agua que lloverá.

Podría ser más educado
pero el alma sólo entiende de emoción
y si hay Dios seguro entiende de emoción.
Podría haber llorado un mar de lágrimas saladas
arrojarme a los abismos y partirme en dos el alma
desatar la tempestad y el huracán de mi garganta
y confesar desesperado que no puedo con mi rabia
aunque mi actitud no es hoy tan evidente, no puedo sufrir más.

Que el dolor cuando es por dentro, es más fuerte...

20 miles

This weekend, The Absolutely Fabulous Four were scheduled to run the Hyannis Marathon relay. At the beginning of the month, A friend was injured and left the team. That was okay-- I'd make the relay less of a recovery run and more of a work out. 13.1 is a fun challenge. Done.

Well, not so fast, (sorry for the pun), Runner #2 has a conflict that he learns of days before the race. No problem. I'll just run three legs. A challenging training run...

Yeah. Sucker that I am. It was good for me I suppose. Really good physically to see how I could handle it, but mentally, it's another whole game. That was the biggest lesson. Sure, my hamstrings are tight and I feel like I sprained my ankle but at the end of the day, I'm fine. Better than fine. And, I'll have another great attempt at 22 miles before the marathon in March.

Stay tuned!

Benvenido a la Casa Blanca, Sr. Presidente

Although it's been some time since I've updated you, don't fear: I have been training and what is more, cross training. Having just returned from a glorious week in Tulum, Mexico for a Yoga retreat, I feel renewed, refreshed and ready for intense training. At the Maya Tulum retreat spot, approx 2 hours from Cancun-- relatively secluded and magical--we practiced twice a day for 1.5 hours in the morning and 2 in the evenings. The food- oh the food was so fresh and it was unlimited. I have NEVER EVER EVER in my many moons digested so much goodness! I did manage to add a run to my luxurious week in paradise between massages, yoga and the digesting of delectable course after course.

And today, I am all jazzed for the inauguration. I wanted to make sure I was able to maintain the stunning physique I sculpted while doing yoga on the beach and so I got up and did a quick run around the block, easing my way in to running in the snow and ice. And I have a witness, because despite all the nasty drivers pushing me off the road (you must run in the road for best traction because people don't shovel their sidewalks well), a friend who we'll call, 'G' saw me go by near Powder House Square. Yes, part of this training includes celebrity sitings.

Even so, if you failed to see me this morning, you might be able to stream some inaugural footage via the Internet, the BBC News or what have you.