Author: 2chicksandapen

adventure, fitness and nutrition

Pickled

2chicksandapen

Ever been in a pickle? 

I have been in many pickles or jams. I’m not even sure why one refers to a situation in that way. Nonetheless I was asked by a friend to play pickleball and of course I jumped at the chance. Why not? I enjoy a good pickle. It’s the hot trendy thing too, isn’t it?

I had really no clue other than it looked like a cross between ping pong and tennis. Of course that’s how they came up with the name pickleball. Pretty funny to me but I went to trusty old amazon and ordered a starter set of paddles and balls. Bounced a few around my driveway with an unwilling soul. I can do this. I got a feel for the ball and the paddle. It’s all good. 

Hopped on to YouTube and watched a few videos. Skimmed the rule books online. Eew the scoring sounds weird. Not at all like tennis. Who makes this stuff up? Who picked the ball for that matter?  Good lord I have to learn record keeping on top of the game itself. Oh well. I said I would play so I will.

I’m on a team of strangers. All new faces. All different ages and abilities. Talk about a fish out of water. It’s okay I can make friends easily. First practice is called. The team votes for learning vs. competition. Oh no. That’s new for me. I’m super competitive. I showed up and it was so much fun! The scoring was much simpler in practical application than reading it. The game is fast paced. The strategy is as interesting as the kitchen.

Yes, I said the kitchen. Who decided the area by the net is the no no zone anyway? sort of cracks me up. The kitchen has rules of entry. It’s easy to accidentally enter the kitchen especially if you are hyped up in a game and don’t have great body and spatial awareness. It’s sort of fun to watch and I’m not referring to me. Stay out of the kitchen. Easy for me I hate to cook anyway so the rule is simple for me to comprehend. Do not enter. 

Sweat fest is how I would describe my first day on the small court. Day two would be sufficed as the same. Day three was game day. I was playing mixed doubles for the first time with a partner that was new to me. That in itself brings challenges. Then add the newness of the game and our inexperience and boom we lost all three games. I even sweated hearts on the court. See picture below for a giggle. Despite losing I couldn’t wait to play again. Also the sweat session is no joke. It’s the type of sweat where you must immediately change and shower. 95 degree heat could be a factor, too.

We improved each time but we lost as a whole. What an experience. I’m so ready for more. This may be my new summer addiction. Not only am I getting a workout but I’m getting challenged in multiple ways. It’s also new enough in my area that I can share my knowledge with friends.

This is just a fun post to hype you up to try something new. Go get a paddle. Find a friend to hit with. Join the pickleball craze, but don’t break anything.  When you’re ready, join a team. It’s a lot of fun, I promise. And a friendly reminder don’t break anything. Medical professionals maybe ready to cash in on injuries! 

Knee replacements are the prediction. I’m sure due to many older folks showing an interest. Couch to pickle ball.  A sure way to get injured. Why not? Life is short.

family, mental health

The Cruelest Month

2chicksandapen

“April is the cruelest month.”

Maybe it is for T. S. Eliot. But for me, the cruelest month is July.

You might think I’d love July, really. It’s the heart of summer, and I am a teacher. Pool days and party nights, right? But these days, we go back to start a new school year in July, so the turn of the calendar brings a bit of dread. But even more so, July haunts me with bad memories.

It starts with the Tour de France, which usually kicks off in the first few days of July. The Tour was a big deal each year of my youth. Long before the days of streaming video, my dad and brother would get up in the middle of the night to watch the race. Throughout the month of July, it was always on in our house…if not the live stage, a recap or rerun or highlight show. Probably not surprisingly, I eventually developed a fascination with Lance Armstrong and the US Postal team (and the other teams he rode for.) Many a summer hour was spent watching the peloton float through the French countryside.

The family love for the Tour and its fanfare was eventually overshadowed by grief.

July is the month when I lost both of my parents. When I got the call that my mother’s short illness had ended, I had the Tour de France on my TV as I got ready to go over and sit at her bedside for my daily ritual. Four years later, the very same week, when I stood by my father’s bedside as he took his last breaths, the Tour de France was on the hospital TV.

These anniversaries are ones I carry in my heart. Some years I almost forget them. But then, more often than not, my heart gets heavy. Deep sighs erupt from out of the blue. Even when my brain is protecting me from sadness, my body remembers.

If only I could put a sign on my forehead….or pin a little note like Paddington Bear had: “July hurts. Take it easy on me.” Life doesn’t work like that. On any given day, plenty of people around me are suffering. When someone snaps at me for no reason, I have to assume their hearts are troubled for reasons that likely have little to do with me.

So I guess it’s no wonder when the Tour de France ads come on, my heart starts to sink. And most years it remains sunk through all the hard and sad anniversaries of July. The heat and heartache can sap whatever energy I have. It sneaks up on me sometimes, but when I remember I know to be patient with myself and just keep going. Eventually August will come.

Uncategorized

One Question

2chicksandapen

“When was the last time you felt really good?”

“Oh, I feel good most days…”

“No, I mean when did you feel REALLY good?”

She stared, wonderingly. I paused. And with that sincere look, the dam inside me broke.

We’ve talked on the blog before about menopause. I am in the midst of this process. My body and mind are changing. Many days, my body is a mystery to me. I will spare you many of the uglier details, but I’ll just say that my weight is up and my energy is down…and many other things are all over the place.

Last year, I went to see a new doctor. I was already feeling some of these changes and had heard from friends who were finding relief using a wide range of interventions. I went with high hopes of finding someone who would listen and help me feel better. Unfortunately, my request for help was dismissed with a “we don’t really do anything but treat the symptoms” and a little packet of vitamins to try. The whole visit lasted 15 minutes. I was frustrated and just sad.

It took almost a year of regrouping and searching before I found another doctor to try. After reading advice and the experiences of others, I decided to find a Functional Medicine practitioner. And with her first question, as well as the follow up request for a sincere answer, I knew I found the right person.

She spent almost 45 minutes just talking with and listening to me. We talked about a huge range of health and lifestyle topics. How I take care of myself, what my challenges are, my day-to-day life, and so on. And now it’s about testing and data and planning and figuring things out. It will be a long series of tests and trials, but I am on a path to, hopefully, feeling REALLY good once again.

perspective

Congress

2chicksandapen

Recently I made an appointment to speak to my congressman. A first for me. I met in person in a great old office in a historic building, not too far from home on his office day. The floors squeaked when you walked on them. The doors were big and bold yet from another time period. Stairs were aged. So much history in just the architecture. My mind went crazy thinking about all that went on over the years in the building. So much fun to think about what once was there. Who might have stepped foot on those floors.

I didn’t really have an expectation with my meeting other than to be heard and see if there was anything his office could do for me given his advocacy reach. I was pleasantly surprised with his approachable demeanor and willingness to review my inquiries. That being said, I have no idea if my issues will go beyond the conference table I sat at but I did my part. I raise my concerns. I used my voice. 

As citizens of this glorious country, we have a right to access our leadership. Some routes may not lead one directly to the president but you have to start somewhere. Maybe you need a local school representative or the mayor. No matter who you need to visit, don’t hesitate. Take the chance. Make a stand. Your voice can count. For those who read our blog outside of the United States, you might not have the luxuries we do. Yet another reason we in the U. S. need to exercise our voice.

Glad to have made a step into voicing my concerns at this age / stage in my life. This may not be my last visit, but it was an interesting process to undertake. This blog is normally not a place to share or comment on political views of any kind, but I felt the vagueness of the post just reminded folks to get involved in their political scene, when the need arises.

Just a ponder post to put out there.

Uncategorized

Shared Rides

2chicksandapen

I was on a recent trip to a smaller-sized town with not too much to do, yet I wanted to get some exercise in while exploring. I couldn’t pack my bike for the trip thus I was a little disappointed. However the town ride share came to the rescue.

For a $3.00 fee you could unlock the bike at one of the area spots and use it for an hour or $1.00 more if you wanted to cruise beyond the initial hour. Cool concept. Easy access once you downloaded their app and paid your fee. Having this option available was key to me exploring a couple of days.

I got to see a pretty sunset. I got to see a snake on my path. I shared smiles with many I passed along the way. The snake I will say I was glad to see while on a bike vs .walking. I got to see a little about the people in the town while I cruised around too. Some visiting. Some were homeless finding resting spots not far off the trails. Just an alternate way of seeing a new place.

While on this same trip I happened to notice a large concentration of vans, box trucks and trucks in a mall parking lot. Out in the distance from where one may park to go into the mall. This got my curiosity up. Was somebody renting parking spaces? What was this fluid truck concept? See photo above. Why it was another form of ride share. Clearly not a bike yet equally purposeful to some I’m sure. Myself included. As a business owner I need to rent trucks from time to time. The ride share concept of grab-and-go is not only affordable but the ease of access seems far more appealing than your traditional Penske or U-haul type rental place.

My mind is always wandering and exploring when I’m in new places. You never know what value you may find hidden just beyond your normal landscape or routine. Keep your options open to discover and explore no matter where you are. Small towns might be more savvy than meets the eye.Just a girl on adventures choosing to share some tidbits with the world here and there. Hope you enjoyed this random post about bikes and trucks. It’s funny since I also wrote about rail travel not too long ago as well. Guess it’s travel season for this girl.

I also like to include photos when I can in a post. This sign was a new one for me. It was located just after a stop sign on the bike path. Clearly the warning sign was appropriate for the upcoming terrain yet it was funny to see a stop sign and this distinct slanted warning sign. It was accurate though.

As an added fun fact, I have opted to ride a bike on many rail trails. Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Utah, Colorado, Oregon, Ohio, Florida, and a few other states. The majority of these trails are flat which I like but I learned on this trip they can also encompass inclines. I am going to have to make it a point to hit some new states by bike.