Month: May 2006

Last week I went to a school event; one of the VP’s and her husband gave a presentation about their bike trip to San Francisco. They rode their bicycles, rather ordinary-looking mountain bikes, from Steilacoom to SF in three weeks.

I went out of curiosity, and was so inspired by Sunny’s enthusiasm that I started taking notes. I have a whole sheet of tips and thoughts on my desk at home, scribbled on the list of questions that they started their presentation with. (“Don’t you mean a motorbike?”)

Forty to sixty miles a day, every day but one, for three weeks. Some of it on Highway 1, which I remember from two trips….

When I was a little girl, we went up Highway 1 north of SF as part of a vacation trip. It was one of those childhood vacations that stands out as having been the ultimate vacation. Also one of the last trips with us all together, before Dad died. Also one of my early bursts of manic picture taking. (I can’t remember if it was part of the trip that we took to the family reunion. That would’ve made sense.)

When I was 19, I talked Raul into taking 1 – again, north of SF – on our trip home from Tacoma to Cali for Christmas break. He drove wildly and erratically then, much as he did everything else, and owned a 1971 VW van, and so the trip was…gorgeous, roller-coaster-like, and entirely nerve-wracking. I remember crossing the Golden Gate sometime after dark, and him yelling something to the effect of: “we are never going to do that again!” (This was the same Christmas break where our house was broken into, and on the way back the van broke down at Gorman. Fun times.) It made me wonder what that childhood trip (also taken in a VW van) had been like for my father, who did most of the driving, and my mother, who is something of a worrier.

The idea tempts me deeply. I would love to see that landscape up close; I’ve made the trip between here and Cali in one way or another so many times, by car, plane, bus, and train. Bicycle would just make things complete. And it’s a physical challenge that make sense to me; I don’t get mountain climbing.

Two years ago, I didn’t know how to ride a bike, and so far this month I’ve ridden more than 100 miles, 4.6 miles every day. Could I do 10 times that every day for three weeks? I want to say yes.

I’m inspired also by Lynn’s marathon training, and by the story Heather told me of her marathon experience. I have no particular drive to run a marathon, but it gives me hope that I can achieve my own dream.

First step will be to check out the book they recommended. Then I need to find a way to increase my regular mileage. Happily, C thinks it’s a great goal for us as a thing to do together, so I have a buddy in my dream.

So when I went to pick up my bike this afternoon, my beautiful headlamp was gone. G-O-N-E.? The whole assembly unscrewed from the handlebars and everything. And the bike was kinda tipped over/twisted, although still locked, which makes me wonder if someone was trying to make off with the whole thing.

There was much swearing.

(Elizabeth bought it for me for Christmas, and as I said at the time, it was way nicer than I would’ve bought for myself.)

I did manage to catch a break in the weather enough to ride home, and I had enough time to make some hard-boiled eggs for my semi-impromptu potluck in the park.

To which our friend J came, and the three of us shared some food with the homeless guy (Terry?) who hangs out around there.? And then it poured. Tropical style. We three ended up dashing home in a variety of mode (car, bike, foot) through rain that soaked my skirt completely.? (And then, in changing into pants, I tore it along the bottom hem almost like tissue paper.? Damn.)

But all in all, I’m feeling more relaxed and flexible than I was this time yesterday, which seems like something of a success.

[Originally written in OpenOffice while riding in the vanpool this morning.]

Yesterday I had a mood crash. I don’t know any other way to describe it, the familiar sensation of being totally out of joint mentally and emotionally. “Tired and sad” is what I wrote over and over again in my journal, but add to that frightened and irritable.

Today I can feel the ripples of it, the echoing vulnerability to any passing thought or event. Some part of me wants to break down and cry at the sight of a highly visible run in my brand-new knee socks. And I know that’s not quite right, but the feeling lingers nonetheless.

In the interests of better mental health in the future, I want to analyze the experience. Can it be avoided, or at least ameliorated, next time? (I’m old enough to know that there will be a next time.)

Physically, I rode less than usual; I slept and ate about the same. My caffeine intake was fairly normal.

[redacted musings about interpersonal & intrapersonal aspects of work]

That’s the tipping point. I can feel it. The feeling of being a small thing alone in a vast bureaucratic ocean.

Which leaves me vulnerable, emotionally, to all sorts of other negative thoughts. And it’s so hard to kick myself out of it. I knew that what I wanted yesterday was retreat, and retreat into work – the solitary creative kind – felt like a good bet. Today I feel the same way. I’m inclined to find some project and vanish into the computer.

But I’m wondering if that’s the wrong decision entirely. Not that I know what to do instead, of course. Tonight we’re going over to the park, and hopefully some people will show up (and hopefully it won’t pour) and I can/will be sociable in that context. As for today? Just being aware seems like a good starting point.

I’m going to start an informal weekly potluck starting this Wednesday around 6:30 in Lions Park.? If it’s raining, we’ll be under the shelter.? If you are local (does anybody in Oly read this thing?) then bring some food and we’ll hang out.

(also posted in the ENA forum and on Olyblog.)

The rain let up long enough this afternoon for us to ride downtown and run some errands before I settled in for a couple of hours of work at B&B.? Got into such a good flow, too, that when I hit a pause where I had to wait while I script ran, and I looked at the time, it was already after 5 o’clock!

I thought I had something else local to write about, but now I can’t remember what it was….

It’s raining.? Not just a gentle dizzle, but steady, even pouring, rain.? The garden, especially the tree we planted on Saturday, will be happy of it, but I’m a little mopey.? Today will probably be a day without cycling.