Not exactly.
I - finally - crossed the 2,000-mile mark on my bike for 2014. I was feeling somewhat disappointed since I was making such good progress in August to rack up a lot of miles this year. August is always a tease.
Anyhow, I'm trying to have a better attitude about certain things. As demonstrated by my sharing here my new-found knowledge that Guatemala is about 2,000 miles from Minneapolis. Who knew I could ride to Guatemala and yet feel so rested?
As we drove to Custer State Park 16+ years ago, I made the atypical honeymoon decision to read "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee." It was a great book, helping me understand our government's treatment of Native Americans during the civil war era.
It helped me learn that the guy Sibley, for whom a lot of things in my area are named, was a bad guy.
My bike ride yesterday, started behind the historic Sibley house, and followed a trail on the land formerly inhabited by the Dakota. As I was riding, I was thinking about the Thanksgiving images we are shown as kids of the pilgrims and Native Americans arm in arm, eating a huge turkey, and how I was riding across the river from the area that eventually was used as a concentration camp for the Dakota.
The most unsettling event of the government campaign to remove Native Americans from prime land, in my mind, although there are many to choose from, unfortunately, was the Sand Creek Massacre, which occurred 150 years ago tomorrow.
While I love Thanksgiving and what it can, and does, represent for many people, I appreciate learning that things might not have always been quite the way I initially learned they were. Something to mull over while eating a turkey sandwich...
For several years, I've ridden on Thanksgiving. Being on my bike is something for which I'm truly thankful. This year's snow didn't stop me, since I've got my fun fat tire bike.
It was a great morning along the Minnesota River (although I really need to figure out how to keep my toes warm), followed by a hearty meal at Merlin's Rest. And perhaps a nap?
On the way home from swimming, I drove the way that I like to ride my bike from the U of M St. Paul campus. It was a little icy in parts. All I could think of the whole way was how I wish I could go for a decent* bike ride on my road bike right now. Some people - a lot of people - still ride road bikes when it is cold and icy, but I don't and I feel like I have unfinished road bike business this year. No, I didn't break a bone.
I'm in full work travel mode and pretty overwhelmed with work, am trying to gear up (both figuratively and literally, I guess) for the holidays, and am behind on everything I was going to do to be a kick-butt captain of my MS150 team this year. So what did I do this afternoon?
I skipped out of work, put ON a suit, went downtown on the train like a grown-up, and watched my friend Juan get sworn-in as a judge. He's going to be a great judge! I'm so excited for Minnesota. And Juan.
When I was there, I saw every law job boss I've ever had (except my current boss, who was covering a meeting for me in Atlanta). I'm still processing what conclusions I can draw from that. I think they are good ones.
When I got home, I saw that someone from the MS Society hand delivered this little giftie. (The back says "bike MS team captain.") Does that make me feel guilty for not being on top of my captainly duties? Not sure.
In the meantime, I've still been processing things offered by Amanda Palmer last Sunday. I wasn't sure I fully liked her, but if she made me think deep thoughts for a week, I think she must be doing something right. I've also been hemming and hawing for a week about the fact that I'm kind of a scaredy cat on my bike, despite fat tires and a super nice ride last weekend.
All of this means I'm in my head too much, and not outside enough.
p.s. can I just say how much I love the Sugarcubes guy? I love imitating him, "that girl on the thee bi-see-cle showed great interest in the motorcrashes in thee neighborhood," "squeaky clean, reeeeally clean."
This is my second post in a row with a p.s. Weird.
A short but good ride yielded the following observations:
- Walking on the roads is way more slippery than riding on fat tires.
- I am glad this bike doubles as my mountain bike when I swap out the wheels. The few times I took out the mountain bike this summer has made me more comfortable.
- My back totally hurt before I went. Now it does not. Moving is good!
- I need a better solution to keep my feet warm. My legs, hands, head, etc. all felt warm. My toes got cold, despite liner socks, thick smartwool socks, and winter boots.
- You can really see the creek way better in the winter, and I pretty much love nothing more than an open creek winding through the snow.
- Snowy paths (although plowed better than our street) mean few pedestrians on the paths.
- It is quiet when it snows, even in the city.
- Goggles wouldn't be a bad thing when riding while it is snowing.
The past two days, I've been somewhat obsessed with the Iron Nun. In 2012, she was the oldest person to have completed an Ironman triathlon (at age 82; when she was 79, she broke the record for women). She still holds that record. In October, she attempted to be the oldest person to complete the Ironman World Championship (at age 84), but didn't finish.
I'm not religious, but I admit I've got a soft spot for nuns, who are more "of the people" than other religious figures. Plus, all of my high school science teachers were nuns and gracefully dealt with my lack of natural ability. The one I had for chemistry and physics was particularly generous with her time (thanks to you, Sr. Bernadone, I will never forget 9.8 meters per second squared), and even tried to set me up for the prom. Thank goodness I already had a date.
But the Iron Nun! How cool! Especially as I sit here, like a bump on a log, trying to get the nerve up to brave the cold and take out my fat bike. The Iron Nun wouldn't wimp out; she would get on that danged bike!
(p.s. oddly, I didn't learn about the Iron Nun from the Mighty Girl Facebook page/blog, which has been the source of many inspirational stories lately. No, instead I read about her in a footnote in the little newsletter that comes with my husband's razor blades. Seriously.)
(p.p.s. I was looking for a photo of the now-deceased Sr. Bernadone. I found one commemorating her 65+ years in the classroom, but opted for this one, from the nuns' Facebook page highlighting Sr. Bernadone's scones recipe. A lady after my own heart.)
