Laps and life

The closer the race gets, the more long lonely runs, long grueling rides and many hours in the pool, back and forth. All summer, I was very fortunate to have access to gorgeous lakes and warm wonderful days to get my swim time in. Now with snow and cold weather, I am relegated to the pool. I can not even imagine how many miles I have swum since I joined the swim team at the age of 7. Back and forth.

To pass the time one day last week, I swam through my life. Every lap was a year in my life. Kind of flew through the first couple of years. A spattering of memories, feelings and visions. School days and friends that came and went with each passing year. Somehow I made it through teenage hood, I hated my mother and adored my father. As soon as I reached lap 16, I recalled driving away from my parents, my first love and acne. Then off to college. I thought I knew everything. I protested the war, I lectured my parents about the world and population explosion. I vowed to go into the peace corp and right the world and create a peace loving universe. I struggled with what to do with my life after college, elected vet school, put off the peace corp, figured I was much smarter than Bella (mom) and still adored my dad, Eli.

At lap 21, I giggled at the fact that I downed a fifth of tequila at a party my folks put on for me. Maybe even swerved a bit in the lane. I met the farther of my kids at a friends wedding. Decided I wanted a family, gave up on stopping population explosion, and got married. I worked, cooked, cleaned, cried a lot. At the 36th lap, my thoughts turned to my children. My heart bursts with love for them. I remember a moment, standing next to my sons crib, gazing down at him as he slept. My cousin came in and we just stood there looking at the pure innocence. Yes, we would kill to protect them and die to keep them safe. Never had I felt such raw fierce instinctual emotions. As I swam on, my arms started to get tired. 43 laps, 3 sons, a divorce, a very stressed out single mom. I got really tired. Kept meeting the wrong guys, but took away from each relation a lesson. My kids kept me sane and I tried not to drive them insane.

The time went so fast. Soon they were off to college and "drove away". I had vowed to enjoy every second with them, to be there after school, to drive them to their swim practice. And I did. And the time flew by. Menopause and I almost went crazy. My parents at lap 55 were gone. A big hole remains in my heart, swimming helps lessen the sorrow. A lap later, I moved to Bend. Now into the groove, I swim on and get my pace settled in. Lap 58 and I found the right guy, my boys are wonderful young adults, I found a career I love and I live in a beautiful place.

Now into the future, I swim on. My race, my future in veterinary dentistry, an empty nest for the first time in 23 years, a new relationship. And then I reach the 65th lap. Retirement. Not sure that will ever happen. Maybe a slow down in working and more travelling. Lap after lap, I design my life. Always open to the unexpected, dealing with a cramp, constantly thinking of my kids, travelling. Into the groove, I push on to 70 and 80. My parents were very active until their late 80's. So can I. My children worry that they will have to take care of me. I tell them I'm spending their inheritance. I flow into the 90's. Can I stay active? Can I still swim? Can I know I'm swimming? Lap 120, I am done. I have always told my boys that I am going to live until 120, go scuba diving, come home and call it a life. Too much to do to stop before that.

The Wind is my friend

It always seems that no matter which direction I am riding, the wind is in my face. Whenever I head out I start my mantra, "The wind is my friend" Now if I were a pilot, I would be delighted with a stiff breeze at take off to increase my air speed; or if I were a captain on a sailboat, I would rejoice with the billowing of the sails and the salt spray. However, on my bike it can be, well let's say, interesting.

During Ironman Hawaii, even though I had trained a lot in the wind swept hills of Sonoma County, I was not prepared for the fury of Pele. As we started out on the road to Havi, the breeze turned to wind turned to gales. Looking down the highway to the cyclists ahead, I noticed we were all leaning at about a 50 degree angle into the crosswinds coming off the ocean. At one point, much to my dismay, I found myself all the way past the center line, buffeted by the wind sideways. Luckily for me I avoided the traffic, other bikes and the lava.

As we went up the coast for the turnaround the wind was in our faces. I was in high gear, peddling furiously, going down a steep grade, I glanced at my computer and I was going a "blistering" 9 mph. I kept my spirits up, telling myself that when I turn around I would have a lovely tail-wind. Finally, I hit the town, did my half circle, over the timing pad and headed back out. It was heaven, I was flying down the hill. I checked my timer and thought "Wow! With this tailwind, I'll be back in no time." Well, reality caught up with me. The winds shifted and I again had a head wind or a crosswind all the way to the transition. I was never so happy to get off my bike and get my running shoes on.

Now, in Central Oregon, I have plenty of wind and time to recite my mantra. It still seems that the wind is in my face more often than not. I have tried to make friends with the wind gods, It is a process. So, I still hope for a tailwind and accept that the head wind is out of my control. "The wind is my friend, the wind is my friend, the wind..."