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If I haven’t already said so, now is a good time to say that I LOVE TO RIDE MY BIKE!

Commuting to work gets me really excited going to work. It leaves me happy ALL day and excited to ride my bike for the ride home.

Yes, I still forget my bike socks and I have stopped getting upset about it and figured its one less thing to take on and off while getting ready for the ride. I should just stop wearing them all together just like my gloves.

In my sleepiness, I rode off without my helmet. Luckily, we had only ridden a block away before Bill noticed and brought it to my attention. No harm no foul.

The worst is forgetting the work badge. All USAA employees are required to show a badge to get on campus and get through the door. Without it, you get an escort in from your manager and you must pay $50 to have the badge replaced.

There was a time that I got all the way to work and had to ride back to my car to retrieve my badge. At that point, I drove back into work.

Or, there was the time when I dropped my badge on the road, in a high traffic spot. Luckily, my brave friend Maurice weaved back into traffic and saved my badge. Now my badge sits in the “Twin Peaks Bank” or otherwise known as my cleavage, for the duration of the commute, until I flash my badge to the security guard as we pass through the gate.

TRI Training

Mom says that I should slow down. Guys stay back because most can’t keep up with me. Maybe that is why the line at the door has dwindled to nothing. Between work and training I do not time for much else. I often think about going to a bar but then I remind myself that I am going to wake up at 5AM to ride. Riding sounds like more fun than dancing in a sloppy sweaty smoke filled room.

I did not believe Mom until I decided to start training for a TRI (scheduled for August 28). It is hard to have a life outside of riding, running, and swimming. Not to mention the training and the preparation involved with each.

The first week of training is always the hardest. Waking up so early and getting my body used to the routine takes a toll by day 3. If I make it to day 4, then it’s all downhill from there. Today is a red bull AND coffee kind of day. By this afternoon, I may need some toothpicks to keep my eye lids open.

It was very recently that I thought I was sacrificing “my life” to train. These days training is so much my life that I am not giving anything up. This is me and this is my life. This is where I want to be. I would love it for someone to join me on the journey but until then, I am enjoying my training time. Even more, I love the recovery time resting with Roxy.

Thanks Jim for your offer. On a beach somewhere at sunset, I may take you up on that.

My Next Wedding

The topic of a spouse and a wedding has been high in conversation only because I realize how ill my mother is. I want her to see me at this monumental moment in my life. At times it can be annoying to have the consent questions but I am getting wittier with my responses.

While at my parents house one of those prescription commercials came on and it showed a daughter trying on wedding dresses while the Mom was nearby watching.

Mom says: You know what Barbie; I never got to pick out your wedding dress with you. You picked it out and didn’t even let me see it.

Barbie says nothing and rolls her eyes.

Mom says: And then I didn’t have a ride to the church. Your Dad drove everyone around and I was stuck at the house.

Barbie says nothing as steam begins to boil, all the while trying to keep her composure.

Mom says: I see you wearing a suite for your next wedding.

Barbie says in a nice but firm tone: Mom, first I have to find a guy that wants to get married. Then I can wear a fitted floor length dress. I do NOT want another big wedding. The last wedding was ALL for you and I do NOT want to do that again.

(Slight pause to wait for reaction.) In the silence Barbie continues, I want to be married on the beach.

This was a much easier conversation than expected. She seems more willing to step back and let me live my life. After all, it will be MY wedding and there isn’t even a groom yet.

Single Ladies

Maybe you have heard Beyonce’s song, “Single Ladies”. It is my current work ring tone and I loooovvvveeee it. When everyone at work is in serious mode, my phone will ring and break the mood.

I had a spontaneous weekend of craziness, one day after another. Friday was First Friday in downtown San Antonio. Saturday, a gay pride parade (not that there is anything wrong with that) and drinking like a twenty year old. Monday, I took my mother gambling after she cancelled her doctor’s appointment.

Friday night was dancing at the Friday hot spot Azuka’s. It was the usual; bartenders come over the bar with hugs, the band throwing waves, and the regular hard core salsa dancers. We danced for hours at a time.

First Friday brings out the Pub Runners. They run 4.5 miles and stop at 5 bars in between. They write their name on their appendages and mark lines, boxes, or circles, with permanent markers, to indicate how many beverages they had for the night.

This is where the song popped into my head again. Specifically, this part:

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don't be mad once you see that he want it
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it

I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think

And this is where the fun began…

A runner proceeded to mark up my arm with three squares to represent my drink consumption. Once the three squares were drawn on my arm, he wrote him number on my hand- in green permanent marker. Even with a “man on my hip”, this did not stop an inebriated, over the top PA student from the UTHSC.

Sure, I am in the school of thought that says, dance with the one that brought you, but hey, “If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it”. Until then, a little wink and shake never hurt anyone.

And just in case you were wondering, I scrubbed his number off shortly after. I somehow think he would have no recollection of me or giving me his number.

First Commute of the Year

Bike, lights, water bottle.
Check.
Gear.
Check.
Cloths for the day, and socks. (I always forget socks.)
Check.
Bike loaded.
Check.
Thunder and lightning. Check.

Note to self: Don't forget to check the weather the night before a ride and for the week in this case.

Between my fathers being in the hospital the past week and taking Mom to her doctor’s appointments I seem to have NOT noticed that Alex is brewing in the gulf and storms are forecasted for the entire week here in San Antonio. Riding will be inside for the week.

Commuting will be on hold until next week and my commuter friends will be back in town to guard me on the ride home for that half mile stretch on Huebner Road. This is a good thing to wait for my poesy.

I miss my XC09 friends. I am gonna look up you and call you soon. XC10 rides, welcome back home. How are you adjusting to being back? Isn't it everything you dreamed it would be and more?

Boston XC10

The XC10 group is fast approaching Boston. I am elated at their success. Each of you is spectacular in my book. We are among the few that ever attempt the challenge of riding across America. XC09 and XC10, remember me this time next year. I will be standing where you stand.

Last year I remember being miserably sad to not be on my bike. This year I am happy that I was able to ride 1300 miles across America and now more than ever, I want to send Tracy my deposit for next year because there is no doubt in my mind that I will be on my way to Boston next year, June 8th. My family is already making plans to meet in Boston next year.

My life has once again caught me off guard. Riding hundreds of miles, with lots of time to meditate, helped prepare me for the change in life cycle and taking care of my parents. Between my sister and me, we are tag teaming each other to spend the days with my folks. I am thankful that their home is in a location that makes it easy to hop on my bike to get miles in.

The Mark

The cruelest joke my sister would tell me is that I was adopted.
Frantically I would search through the family photo album look
for a picture, looking for proof of baby pictures with my parents.

It is the mark behind his left knee and the curve of his pinkie
toes. I have his nose. It is a boxer nose. When we stand side
by side, there is no mistake that I am my father’s daughter.

He is quiet and shy. He does not talk much. When he does
speak, I know it is important.

Dad has worked most of his life and did not have the luxuries
that some are offered. His pride kept him strong and
courageous so that he could provide the best for his family.
He often tells me how proud he is of me but it is the other
way around. I am proud to call him my father.

The military has taken him to two wars. I remember the second,
desert storm. It’s hard to forget a time when your family is not
whole.

These days he moves a little slower but he character remains the
same. He is a hard worker with pride, honesty, and loyalty. I love
you Dad, Happy Birthday and Happy Father’s Day.