Tag: greatmemories

#TinkRuns2024, challenges

My First Marathon

2chicksandapen

So much anticipation has led up to this point. Specifically every day after my half marathon until now. 12 days of am I ready? Do I have everything? Should I start packing? How will I do away from home? Will my pit crew be annoyed with me? The course is ready, but am I?

Today is the day.

The big day.

My first and only marathon quest.

My bright idea for age 52!

A dooms day of sorts. Can I do this? Why did I sign up for this? Am I crazy? So many questions but the reality is I am here. I have several friends by my side. We are doing this. The months, days and hours leading up to this point have been full of so many memories. Just being here is an accomplishment for each of us. Nobody wants to think about a DNF (did not finish) but it’s entirely possible. At least it’s not a bunch of hills.

Now we get to take these steps today and prove to ourselves that we can finish what we started and trained for. Or in my case what we barely trained for. That our bodies are capable and we can do hard things. One by one we will cross our own barriers before we finish today. Our stories are different. Our training regimens were different. Our ages are different. However we all put on our racing shoes and number looking to achieve the same goal with thousands of others today. Completing the marathon. Becoming one of the 1% club.

Signing up alone is a big step.

Training is a huge commitment.

Mental toughness is required.

Patience and grace is much needed.

Nutrition and hydration is paramount.

Clothing must be well thought out and tested!

Shoes and socks need to be broken in.

So many little steps before the big day.

Then you may need to circle back to the mental toughness multiple times in this preparation process. It’s a given.

When it’s time to show up, that’s another hurdle.

When you need to find your pace and really sync into it for the duration, that’s commitment.

Pain will be involved for most of the process.

Staying consistent for 26.2 miles is straight out courage!

Will your electronics last?

Do I have all that it takes? Not sure yet. I know I can get half way for sure. I’m sure I can go a little more as well, but can I finish? That’s my goal. Only me.

Only me to rely on!

Only me can say it’s time to quit.

Only me can cross that finish line.

Only me can motivate myself ultimately….

Stay tuned for the next post in this series showcasing my epic day.

adventure

Bryson City

2chicksandapen

A quick road trip popped up on the calendar. The destination was tucked away in the mountains of North Carolina in a place called Bryson City. My first time to the area and I really had no expectations. A little fun. A little friends. Some time away.

The map took a twist and planted my RV on a narrow dirt road winding around the river. Impressive by sight of beauty, but more nerve wracking to be a passenger looking over the embankment of a narrow gravel road just after rain had hit. Oncoming trucks squeezing into the already thin road definitely made me bite my nails a few times.

My first stop was the rustic campground I booked on a whim. Not much more than a gravel pad laid by a creek with a sewer, water and power connection. The few bells and whistles consisted of three log benches by a firepit and a picnic table by each site. Simplicity. Quiet. Efficient for a short stay. Rain on the roof top by night. Coffee by the creek by morning. Topped off with a great group picnic in the afternoon after our big adventure.  With little planning the rustic camp spot ended up being the perfect destination and photo backdrop.

In between the rest and picnicking was was the adventure that brought me to Bryson City. White water rafting with 12 friends on the Nantahala River. Two boats. Two guides. Safety training. Life jackets. Paddles. Good to head to the drop point. Wait! We are one guide short. Not even sure how this happens. Somehow I was volunteered to guide a raft down a river I’ve never been on. What on Earth? I drew the short straw for this one.

I didn’t hesitate. Maybe I didn’t think about how much responsibility it came with. Maybe I didn’t trust others with my life. I don’t even know why the company allowed the customer to guide the boat. Nonetheless it happened. I had a great group of brave souls to do it with. We all paddled. We all stayed in the boat. We had an amazing time: memories to last a lifetime. Adrenaline to last for days. Pictures to prove I was a captain for a couple of hours!

Get yourself a group of adventurous pals and do things. Take risks. Be brave. Step out of your comfort zone. You will never grow or know what you are capable of if you don’t.

We conquered these rapids on July 16, 2023. We had a young one on the boat at age 17. A vintage captain at age 51. A non-swimmer. Five first-time rafters. A nurse, just in case. A smorgasbord of a crew but a damn good one at that. Living life to the fullest. One adventure at a time.

Travel buddies may change but fun is always on the menu. Hope you enjoyed a glimpse of our adventure through this post. This also makes the 8th state I’ve camped in with my RV. Slowly filling up my state map. Alabama and Arkansas are on the radar for future trips. Going for the left A states that are nearby.

Uncategorized

Last First or First Last

2chicksandapen

I’m in the last first or first last of many things with my youngest child. The caboose of the family. The last first hurdle to adulthood. The last year of high school. Life with a senior. The to-do list is so very long yet I feel like I will blink and the time will be gone. Memories will remain but the chaos I once enjoyed will now be all hers. Soaring solo or just without mom and dad. Why does it seem harder with a girl? With an athlete?

Last first trip of summer.

Last first flight for the season.

Last first summer tournament.

Last first parking lot adventure.

First last event.

First last adventure.

First summer job to juggle in the mix.

First of many solo flights to new places.

Last first trip to Baltimore, Maryland. I certainly won’t miss the rental car hub in this town. The long bus ride. The long lines. Just won’t mind missing this destination each summer. I’ll gladly trade this spot for a tropical paradise. That means as she finishes her last firsts, I begin to see how my new firsts will come to light without the have to’s of summers on the go with kids.

First of many goodbyes to players and families we have spent years traveling with. Those we even see at the events from other states. Some girls have trips that conflict with the hectic summer schedule. Some have changed their priorities from sports to other interests. Some have jobs that won’t give time off for travel. Most of the girls will go different ways their last year of high school and then to different colleges. Some may never really be social again. While others may be new besties. So many emotions. So many changes on the horizon. So interesting to observe.

Wrapping up one journey. Starting many new firsts as you end many last firsts. I knew these days were coming yet I had no idea what each would feel like. This last first was a little gut punch. Each meal seemed different. Each car ride the chats seemed more forward-focused. I had no idea how the experiences would be different. A coach summed it up today with: Take the picture. Smile for the picture. Celebrate. Have fun. Both kids and parents should savor this time before it’s history. These moments won’t be here again. Enjoy this time.

The girls look older this summer. More womanly. Experienced in ways I can’t explain but it carries to their gait. To their spoken words. To their plans ahead. The conversations have changed from what college to who their perfect roommate will be. What the dorm room decor will be. Where they must travel to for spring break. What they need to do solo on their final summer. I can’t lie. It’s fun to watch. It’s an experience I will cherish.

What powerful words to think about. 18 years of building. 18 years of momentum. Then what? A shift. A realignment of sorts. I have one foot on gas and one foot on the brake. I want to freeze time yet I want to speed up time to see what’s next. It’s not my life but I’m still going to be cheering. I’ll also still be there ready to wash the stinky socks. Pack food for the dorm room. And just whatever is asked of me. Because I still want to be a part of the chaos.

To explain life in this moment is hard. However as part of being honest in posting for our readers it’s a part of life worth sharing. A raw part but one experience I share that may be helpful to another approaching this stage of life. My mini me is almost grown up. She has definitely glowed up. Now just needs to get some independent experiences under her belt to be ready to conquer adulthood.

That first job.

That first paycheck.

That first time spending her money. It hits a little differently. That item might really not be worth it for their money now. I am sure she doesn’t see the view I see and that’s okay. One day she will be in my shoes. For now I’m looking forward to exploring my wide open spaces while I see her enjoy her new spaces and places.

Stay tuned as my months ahead turn into days left before she is off. I’m leaving the journal pages blank for now. Waiting to see what fits in and makes the story book.

adventure

Girls, Ghosts, and a Graveyard

2chicksandapen

It’s pumpkin spice season at Starbucks. The smell of fall in is in the air. Kids are back in school. Now it’s time to do dust off the craziness of summer and rush in fun fall festivities.

This weekend was something new. An adventure planned for the girl gang to step out of their comfort zone. Dining at a restaurant adorned with the name Six Feet Under. A creepy cemetery tour. Why not? This weekend seemed like a perfect time to have the shit scared scared out of me. Off we went, almost leaving the safety of suburbia for the sin of the city.

Well, I almost went. The others actually went. The first warning came from the driver. “I must warn you I’m willing to drive but I drive like a blind person.” Hmmm. Sounds perfect for this fall adventure. Unfortunately Chick 1 had to bail to catch a flight on a whim, but no fear Chick 2 was ready willing and able to jump into this spooktacular adventure. As the torch passes from one scared Chick to one unphased Chick, you will see how this wild tale unfolds.

I will be waiting in anticipation to read the conclusion of the graveyard tales with you. I may or may not be chasing ghosts in my sleep until then….

Chick 2 taking over. We arrived on the misty morning at the front gate of Oakland Cemetery. The forecast called for rain and clouds, which in most cases might have been a disappointment, but in this case it fit perfectly with our funereal outing. We made a brief visit to the gift shop which was filled with laughably morbid treasures like Southern funeral cookbooks and sympathy cards. After breezing through, we started our tour.

It had been about a decade since I had been to Oakland. And before that, I had visited in 7th grade. This was an old old cemetery even then, so you can imagine the cracked walkways, faded headstones, and mossy ground it is filled with now.

Our guide was a quirky woman who had led tours there for many years. Our tour was focused on stories of women buried there. We walked gingerly between the rows. Simple stones to elaborate tombs and everything in between. We saw the resting places of celebrities like Margaret Mitchell and Kenny Rogers (not a woman, but his fame made him a detour). We heard about people who weren’t famous but shared great love stories, made important contributions like leading the first black PTA, or just did notable things. We noticed stones and little elephants piled on grave markers. The elephants were on a stone that marked the resting place of a woman who took in many orphans. We learned that elephants are some of the only animals that look after orphans in nature. Interesting.

There were so many symbols on the graves. Circles stand for eternity. Closed books and open books. Swords and pillows. The lambs on the graves of babies. Each with a different meaning behind them. Intricate stories for the lives represented. An attempt to capture what was most important about them in life, or even their hopes in death.

Different sections for different kinds of people. A section for Confederate soldiers. A Jewish section. An African American section. Interesting how cemeteries reflect the segregation in life at times.

Since we mostly looked at the graves of women, I noticed how often the women in the cemetery were remembered only in relationship to what they did for others. One man had many accomplishments listed, author, Southern gentleman, and so on. On the other side of the stone, the woman was listed as “loving and supportive wife.” Is that all we remember her for?

It also made me wonder what I would want to have on my tombstone. What would I want my legacy to be?

My group and I wandered in the dreary drizzle. We meandered. We took photos. We smelled plants. We asked questions and just took in the ambiance. A sunny day wouldn’t have fit, to be honest.

We capped it off with a delicious lunch and a surprise pastry and coffee treat. All in all, a great day of learning, friendship, and both making and thinking about memories. How would you like to be remembered?

anonymous letters, friendship

Gone But Not Forgotten

2chicksandapen

I miss my best buddy. Every last little detail of our relationship.

The days at the gym seem lonely and just empty knowing you are not near. Our Wordle battle of the minds is now a checklist instead of a morning challenge.  The work days bring another level of hollow to my soul. I miss your goofy snaps. Losing that human connection is just as devastating.

Life is full of craziness. Life can keep you busy. Life can let you miss the fine details of how much your value the presence of an individual. When suddenly they are gone it hits you like a ton of bricks. Maybe even it feels like a Mack truck ran you over a couple of times. An unexplained weakness.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Take the pictures. Capture the smiles. Make the memories and do crazy shit while you can. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for anyone. Treasure today. It’s that simple. Luckily I have a photo reel but what about those who don’t?

I’m in a fog while I adjust to my new normal. It’s not much fun. It could be far worse I know. For now I breathe deeply as I give myself grace. I close my eyes and hope for peace around my valued circle. Then I cling to hope that one day I’ll be back to funny snaps, silly photos and adventures. It may look different when that time comes but I’ll hold on to the hope of it all.

One day.

Some day.

Not today.

That day is not today. That day is someday. Hope tells me it’s one day.

As I reflect on my loss I reflect at the same time on what I still have. How to show appreciation for what is in front of me. What I can control. The rest of my energy will seek hope for that day on the horizon.

As an Irish girl on St. Patrick’s Day, I’ll try to find luck today to offset the sadness. Not sure a scratch card will do the trick so maybe toast or shot will be a better honor for my buddy that I miss.