time to regroup?

So...I've been living in post Ironman bliss for about three weeks now. And it has been LOVELY. What does this mean? Well, to me it's meant only going to the workouts that I've really wanted to go to. Not killing myself even when I'm there (85% has been lovely!). Not running too long or too hard. Going to spin class but allowing myself to be a few gears off. Swimming a lane over from where I used to swim so that my interval is slightly longer and I'm toward the front of the pack instead of hanging on for dear life at the back of the pack.
But things are starting to change...and it's probably time. Time because as I look at the calendar and see the Ironstar Triathlon on November 8, I know I need to start getting a plan in motion. And time because I'm beginning to feel it. I feel like I'm getting back into it. I felt stronger at swim this morning (even though Suzanne moved me up a lane and I was hanging on for dear life again!). I felt stronger at the hill workout last night (even in 100+ degree heat). And I felt stronger at the spin workout tonight. Emotionally, I'm ready to get back to doing all of the things that I love. Not at Ironman intensity...nope...saving that for January! But I'm ready to contemplate training again.
And the nice thing about 1/2 Ironman training at the beginning is that contemplation and my CDA training will let me start training without being a crazy triathlete-in-training person again. In the first weeks, the hours are not too many...the intensity is not too intense (for lack of a better word!)...so I can keep listening to my body and ease back into it all.
Or at least I think so...consultation with a coach is next!

Monday night ramblings

It's Monday night already. And it's 10:00 p.m. It seems to always be 10:00 p.m. in my world by the time I get down to writing my blog. I'm really not sure how that happens. I finish whatever evening event is on the calendar - a workout, a flight coming back from a vacation, phone calls to friends and/or family, dinner with friends, a movie, paying bills, doing laundry, making dinner, packing my lunch & bags for the next day...and suddenly it's 10:00 p.m. Even if I'm home by 6, I seem to fill the hours between 6 and 10 with activities that make the time pass quickly. My "to do" list is not necessarily shrinking, by the way, and it's already mid-July! Ah! Got to get on that. Have one more trip planned for this weekend and I will make it to New Orleans before the first week of August is out, too, but I actually really need to hunker down here and get some of my summer projects done at home...and at work. This week! This week!
I think maybe I'm in a quiet rebellion from structure and efficiency right now since I'm still decompressing from 6 months of Ironman training. I'm all about doing what is fun and enjoyable...and that doesn't always include tending to problems in the guest bathroom and that sort of thing. Oh, well, I'll get it done...I always do!

come down to Monterey...

...come down to camp, and you're sure to have a lot of fun...

And we did...as campers...as counselors...and now as alums.

This past weekend was Camp Monterey's 65th reunion. Quick background on my history with camp. It's a girls camp in Monterey, Tennessee (about an hour east of Nashville in the Cumberland Plateau). It's the camp that my mom went to as a little girl and that I started going to in 1983. I was a camper from 1983-1991 when I became an assistant counselor and then a counselor and then even a "junior senior staff" member the year that I graduated from graduate school (1996).
Camp was the place where I went each summer (first for one month and then eventually for two months) where I suddenly had the sisters I'd always wanted, where I got to be a carefree kid, where I learned how to appreciate the outdoors, where I got to leave the city behind and listen for the frogs and whippoorwills at night instead of the sounds of sirens and car alarms. It's the place where I first experienced what it was like to be on a team - go Wataugas! Where I came to see my potential as a leader. Where I learned the fun of making a complete fool of myself. Where I messed up, was allowed to apologize, and got to experience forgiveness from all sides. It's where many of my childhood role models came from. And it's where I eventually got to "pay it forward" by passing on my love of camp with my campers.
It's where I grew up and remained a child.
The memories that are summer at camp for me feel endless...and I was reminded of so many of the wonderful moments of my childhood this past weekend. Nights around the campfire. Swims in the lake (which still smells the same). Waiting for some wind so that I could get the sailboat across the lake. Getting over my fear of horses (I brushed Mr. Ed for the first two summers because I was afraid to ride!). Our two teams - the Wataugas and the Nolichuckies. Volleyball games. Flagline. Songs in the dining hall. Rides in the cattle truck. Team parties. Banquet. Hotdogs and s'mores on a Thursday night. Scrambled pancakes and pie irons and blackberry cobbler when we were "fancier" on our cookouts. Trips to the Obey River. Hikes to the Rock House where we jumped off the "big rock". Counselors like Kenna, Dani, Kelly, Tricia, and Francie. Miss Dollie. Miss Sara. Vespers. Rafting on the Ocoee. Trips to Cumberland Caverns. Rainy day hikes and Miss Monterey Pageants. Talent shows. The flea market. The Cumberland County playhouse. Water pageant. JC Cabin. Cabin tennis. Fireflies on the fun field. Cow tipping (or trying to cow tip). Meteor showers. Showering under the trees. Late night talks as we looked for shooting stars.
The list could go on and on...and it doesn't even include all of the shared moments with friends and counselors that formed our friendships (I've been friends with some of these girls since I was 8! Talk to them for the real scoop on me...). The silly inside jokes. The quiet moments of tears from a disappointment or a hurt feeling. The years when I got to share my love for camp with my campers (two of whom I saw this past weekend...as one of them put it, "Elizabeth pretty much raised us...even though we weren't the best campers when we were 8!" I adored seeing Emily and Weesie again this weekend...if I can take any credit for the people they have become then I must not have done too much damage as their counselor!) And, of course, the time with my mom.
There's a book that Sally Rodes Lee put together about camp and she asked me to write about my mom. I won't share my entire entry but some parts of it seem appropriate to include here: "An inside joke. Hearing a 'camp song' on a loudspeaker in a store and smiling at one another. Stuffing each other's Christmas stockings with blue and white or green and gold items that only a Monterey girl or Watauga could appreciate. Laughing over our trips across the country from California to Tennessee each summer because I had fallen in love with a place and the people at Camp Monterey...a place that my mom had introduced me to because she wanted to share this special spot in the world with me and because as an only child she wanted me to learn things that you need 'camp sisters' to teach you. Mothers and daughters don't always get along, and mom and I were no different. But the one thing that we always had in common was our love of camp. And so whether we were agreeing (which we did most of the time) or disagreeing (which we did some of the time), I knew that as soon as a conversation or a planning moment turned back to camp that everything would be okay again... I'm proud to be part of a large group of mother-daughter Monterey pairs. I am so grateful for the sacrifices that she made so that I could come to know Monterey. We're both better individuals and a better mother-daughter duo as a result. Anyone who knows my physical features (blonde hair, blue/green eyes, fair skin) and how they contrast with my mom's physical features (brown hair...now gray!, "M&M" brown eyes, olive skin) might wonder, as I sometimes do, just what parts of my mom I inherited and what genes we share. The simple answer for me as always been - the Monterey gene." Mom has become quite an institution at camp and so it's always special for me to go back and see her in a place where people absolutely adore her and hold her in high esteem. There's even a plaque in the office dedicated to her and her 30+ years of service to camp. Go mom!
This weekend reminded me of so many things... Of the simple pleasures in life. Of the value of friendships. Of the importance of having at least one place in the world where everything feels safe and good. Of how childhood friends are often the ones who judge you the least AND remind you of who you really are (and that with those people who really know you well, you can reconnect within a matter of minutes!). Of how certain places can represent the same wonderful things to generation after generation. Of the need for moments of quiet in our lives. Of the grounding power of something old and familiar.
Where would I be without camp? Where would I be without these friends? Certainly, I would not be the person who I am today. And seeing all of us gathered back in the hills of Tennessee, meandering along the paths through the woods, splashing around in the lake, I can't help but think that Miss Dollie (founder of Camp Monterey) was smiling today as she looked down from heaven on the place and people that she had created. Hugs to all of my special camp friends...even though it's been years between visits for some of us, you will always be among the nearest and dearest to me.

flooded by memories...

the old dirt road into camp with all of the same dips & ruts...cooking hotdogs over a campfire...s'mores!!!...a swim in the lake...wandering down the camp paths...the smell of the lake, the woods, the outhouses (the freds)...songs around the campfire...seeing old friends & laughing so hard that I have cried tears of joy...seeing former campers who are all grown up & wonderful...visiting with mom & her friends...fireflies in the field...remembering where I learned to be a kid. And loving every minute of my trip back in time. Pictures to follow...

what's in a name?

I'm being pleasantly reminded as I head to camp that very few of us really went by our real names at camp. Kathy quickly became K. Falk. Marion became Mern (a name she ALWAYS hated...sorry, Mern!). With two Christas we called them by their last names - Furtsch and Stumpf (or Stumpfy or Stumpfhead). Somehow Isla kept her real name...maybe it was creative enough already? Susan was "whittlin' Sue" or Sue Canoe.
And true to form, I had a number of names. (I think this happens naturally when you have a long name!)
E...Juice...E. Guice...and last, but not least, Terry's daughter (mom ran...and still runs...the water front at camp so everyone knew me in connection with her. Meant I had to keep my nose clean as a camper!)
Those were the main ones. Many of which are still used today by people from other times and places in my life and that always makes me smile. Of course, people now have other nicknames for me and I have to say, I love them all. Whether they make sense or not. They make me smile.
So, what's in a name? A lot of memories and personal connections with others for me.

friday quotation on thursday...

...because I'm headed to camp for the 65th camp reunion on Friday! Can't wait to see childhood friends again. Make s'mores at a campfire on the big hill. Swim in the lake. Sing silly camp songs. Relive moments from when we were young. Bonus: I get to see mom since she's running the waterfront at camp this summer! (And I'm driving to camp with K. Falk...my captain buddy and sweet friend whom I have not seen in way too long.) I hope camp is ready for all of us!

So in the spirit of camp...

Remember
Remember the times you've had here,
Remember when you're away.
Remember the friends you've made here,
And don't forget to come back some day.
Remember the blazing campfires,
The swims in our lake, too.
For you girls belong to Monterey,
And Monterey belongs to you.

P.S. Being at camp means being away from the internet and blog updates, etc... It will be awesome to "unplug" for a few days. I'll be back with great stories, new memories, and hopefully some good pictures to post!

happy birthday, Gran!

My Gran turns 92 today. 92. WOW! That's an accomplishment, folks! We had a HUGE bash for her when she turned 80 because she'd just survived emergency open heart surgery only days after returning from a trip to Hong Kong. Let's not even think about what might have happened had she collapsed on the plane...clearly Gran was meant to be with us longer! Then we celebrated her with an ENORMOUS celebration when she turned 90 because, well, let's face it - how many 90 year olds do you know? And 90 year olds who've survived Hurricane Katrina. Right. It's another huge milestone. And today she's still kicking, still quizzing me on Michael Jackson's funeral, still learning the ins and outs of an Ironman, still emailing, but most of all still loving all of us. Without a moment's hesitation, I will say that I hope to be like Gran when I grow up. She's a survivor. Lasting many more years than she predicted when Granddaddy passed away (when I was in 8th grade). Watching both of her children battle cancer. Supporting her grandchildren as we make foolish mistakes. Loving us with both a tender heart and a stern word. Nurturing friendships across generations and being loved by everyone. She believes in giving people second (and third and fourth) chances but she doesn't let you off the hook entirely. She seems to have mastered holding people accountable and forgiving and loving them at the same time. She's the one people turn to when they want to hear the truth. And what many people don't know is that as soon as she hangs up the phone with you, having been direct and honest, if her heart is breaking for you then she will cry for you, too. Sometimes she cries with me on the phone. And that's when my heart gets to break for her. But we always seem to comfort one another through the tears or the joy.
Her "hi love" when I call can brighten up even the darkest day for me. Getting an email from her is always a joy - especially when it goes on for a page and ends with "no news here"! And the way that she's always looking for ways to support us warms my heart.
I'm not sure why Gran and I have the relationship we do. It is as if God knew that I was going to need some stability in my life amidst a tricky divorce as an only child and poof...GRAN! I grew up going to her house every day after school when I lived in New Orleans and we always joke that I knew the rules of her house from such a young age that I never questioned them. And my mom certainly kept us in touch by calling Gran frequently when I was a little girl so that I was always comfortable talking to her. As I grew up, we discovered that we had a lot in common...that classic "skip a generation" bond between grandchildren and their grandparents. Whatever the reason, Gran has been my rock. We talk almost daily and as she wrote to me recently, "Love you. Enjoy our chats so much. Wish all grandmothers had such a relationship with their granddaughters. Some things money can't buy - and we have that." Amen.
So today...here's to you, Gran - "if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." (Jane Austen) I will never know what I did to deserve you. I will always be grateful for you in my life. Much of who I am I owe to you. The way I try to love others is modeled after the way you've loved all of us.

Happy birthday and many happy returns!

P.S. Happy birthday to Dodd, too! He and Gran are birthday buddies!!