Ad astra per espera

Here I sit in Manhattan. 

It is the home of Kansas State University, which (as became immediately apparent) has purple as the dominant, and apparently solo, school color. It's a big Ag school in the middle of rural America, but the student body looks more diverse than I'd expect. Also, I was taken a little off guard when all of a sudden my drive from the flat boring nothingness of Kansas City turned into a scenic drive through the beautiful nearby prairie land known as Flint Hills.

I learned today that the people singing loudly in the room next door to mine late last night likely are part of a production that was visiting from NYC. (I put my headphones on to fall asleep and was surprised in the middle of the night at how hard the pillow was, forgetting that I was wearing a big set of headphones.)

I had dinner with a work colleague and mentioned that I've been a little scattered lately. A little more overwhelmed and stressed with obligations, a little more distracted (like forgetting to take toiletries when I visited my parents and then again this trip, forgetting the compression socks I'm supposed to use when flying so that I don't get blood clots). Things like that. Things that are less likely to happen when I'm outside, riding my bike a lot, and getting a bunch of blood flowing to my brain.

So, I'm looking to the future. There's a 30-mile Twin Cities Bicycling Club ride in March that I might do, to remember what it is like to ride near other people, then the MN Ironman (not THAT Ironman) bike ride where I'm more likely to ride 55 than 93 miles in the end of April (but who knows??), the 100-mile Fulton Gran Fondo in early May. Then the MS Rides in June and July. It's going to be a good spring.

(The title of this blog post is the motto for the state of Kansas. I like it.)


http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/MS150Maggie2017

That girl on that bicycle showed great interest in all the icicles in the neighborhood

This weekend probably was a good weekend for riding. I don't really know; I was in Wisconsin. I went to help one set of my parents pack up their house as they finalize their move to the north woods. 

Things I learned: 

• The Chicken Palace is a good Mexican restaurant (I assumed it would be Chinese, since many palace restaurants in strip malls tend to serve Chinese food).
• My parents have been holding my college food service tray which doubled as a sled for going down the hill by the athletic fields my freshman year.
• One household can acquire a significant amount of paint, sealant, stain, and the like over nearly three decades.
• Crawlspaces can be not creepy and, if I'd lived in that house as a young child, I would have made the crawlspace my fort.
• The Wisconsin DOT employs someone without the best spelling skills. ("Leave yourself room to break." Oh, don't worry about that.)
• Bones and Elementary are decent enough network TV shows. The Love Boat hasn't aged well. (Their cable has been disconnected.) 
• I should give my other parents, who live out in the country, ice skates for Christmas so that they can get to their mailbox across the glare ice that is their road.
• And this isn't something I learned, but I was reminded of it: While Minnesota is (without a doubt) the better place to live of the two states, Wisconsin is prettier on the whole.

The driving was easy, which is good, but I daydreamed the whole way about how nice those roads would be on my road bike, rather than in my car, and started thinking about some longer rides I'd like to do in 2017. 

I pulled into town in advance of the forecasted freezing rain, unloaded the dog and car, grabbed my helmet, and tooled around the snow-packed streets and paths in my part of town, hitting the places where I like to stop in the summer, to compare the views. I am proud of myself for not overthinking the ride and what to wear, and just getting out there before dusk. 

I rode to the falls, but didn't take photos there. It was packed. The ice was a cool color and there were neat little spots where water was spraying out of the frozen falls, but apparently not hitting all the people breaking the park rules and crawling down on the ice. 

I then rode up River Road for a little bit, and turned around to see what I could see by the Lock & Dam at Ford Dam. The observation deck is closed for the winter, which is too bad. The ice piles up in a cool way by the dam. I stuck my bike by this wall when I wandered around and then noticed that it was under a nice array of icicles coming off some rocks at Minnehaha Park.

I rode to the Fort to see how the Mississippi looks right now. I take a lot of pictures from this spot each year, but mostly during the summer and fall. Downtown is off in the distance. A short distance from here, I saw some really fluffy, large deer. They were just a few feet away from me and looked super soft.

Moving around helped get rid of some of whatever I've got going on, and is a good way to head into a week of work. MS150-wise, I need to start mapping out team rides for the spring, which is a good diversion, and also need to plan the trivia event. There's no shortage of things to keep me out of trouble.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/MS150Maggie2017

How far might we go?

About a year ago, one of my posts mentioned Juliana Buhring, an endurance cyclist with an amazing story: not too long after leaving the super-abusive cult (although aren't all cults abusive in some way?) in which she was raised, she decided to take up cycling and set a world record for cycling the world.

She then was featured in the Inspired to Ride documentary, which is where I first learned of her.

Last year for Christmas, I received the book she and her sisters wrote about the cult. This year, her book about cycling around the world.

The book mostly discusses the things she encountered on her ride, but includes some reflections. You can thank tonight's added meditation at yoga, perhaps, for my improved mood and calmness, which makes me think I should share this quote:

"Who am I? Nobody important, nobody special, nobody especially talented or athletic. I would never have known that I could cycle at all, much less cycle around the world, had I not gotten on a bike and tried. I often wonder just how much human potential lies unrealized and untapped, how much we are limited by our own fears as well as by social, cultural, religious, and self-imposed limitations. If we can break through those, how far might we go as individuals, as a species?"

I asked her a question, via Twitter, about a complimentary comment in her book about Americans, and she replied that human kindness is everywhere. Indeed, Juliana.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/MS150Maggie2017

Funkytown

Well, I talk about it, talk about it
Talk about it, talk about it
Talk about, talk about
Talk about movin'

After riding on the nicely groomed Afterglow Resort trails in Phelps, Wisconsin last Tuesday, I felt somewhat empowered to try the WinMan Trails in Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin on Wednesday. It was discouraging at best.

We returned to an icy Minnesota, where I opted for a spinning class that was rather unlike the week's bike rides, given that it featured excessively loud George Michael music, was in a 120-degreeish room, and I was in very close proximity to about 75 other people.

I then spent some time reading This Road I Ride by the admirable and always inspiring Juliana Buhring, which helped me decide that I should stick a bottle of vodka into my solid winter riding backpack and ride to my friend's New Year's party, rather than drive.

I drank water. The vodka was a gift.

I discovered a new little bike route in St. Paul.

I found some cool, super old (for here) houses.

It was a good recalibration for a new year.

Gotta move on
Gotta move on
Gotta move on

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/MS150Maggie2017

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/MaggieTRAM2017