It's All Your Fault!

"Its all your fault"  my daughter says.  The wide range of things that seem to be my fault is consistently getting larger.  It's my fault they got a bad grade, lost their homework, late to school, late to dance practice, can't find cheer shoes , can't find socks, can't find food, missing books, missing keys, no groceries (ok that is my fault.)  Actually I'm flattered that I seem to hold  the power to know where all things are.  Somewhere along the way my children believe I can see back in time and into the future.  That I have logged in my brain where they last left anything they own.  

We as moms have a secret, it's called professional guessing.  I can guess where you last left your cheer uniform, probably guess your socks are dirty and  you ate all the food.  I don't mind taking the heat, I am the safest outlet for all my girls frustrations. My doors are open morning, noon and night. However girls seem to have the height of emotions no matter how big or small the issue at hand is. There are tears over a lost phone, tears over fights with friends and tears over not finding the right outfit to wear!  There are moments when you are a loss of how to help your teen because the overwhelming amount of tears coming from your child is that of a 2 year old that just dropped its ice cream cone onto cement.  There is no consoling, its like waiting in line for a Disney ride and you are trying to figure out if there is a fast pass.  Wouldn't that be awesome?   A ticket for your teen that says "come back at 2:30"  the line to rationalization will be shorter.  

Someday my girls will see what is really my fault.  It's my fault they can make decisions on their own, my fault they graduated high school and hopefully college.  My fault they pick themselves up when life knocks them down.  And definitely my fault to know God is the center of all.  Someday they will be mothers and it will all be their fault.    

If its not a 100 miles, you aren't really a cyclist....

I started riding a road bike about six years ago, part of my "getting healthy" goal.  My first event was 25 miles.  I was so nervous.  First you have to ride on the streets where cars may or may not move over.  Where trucks get just close enough to cause you unnecessary fear.   I'm sure they think its funny, I however almost peed.  So there I was,  all geared up. New helmet, new gloves, new bike shorts...(like that would help)  After just 10 miles, I had pain in unspeakable places. I thought for sure that I would have permanent nerve damage.  I  began thinking to myself  "thank heavens I'm done having children, cause nothing is coming out of me ever again,  in fact sex may never happen again". My more experienced friends assured me, the more I cycled the better it would get.  I really didn't believe them, all I knew is my lady parts may fall off.  But I made it! 25 miles.   I remember how ecstatic I was, but oddly no one else seem to be.   My enthusiasm didn't seemed to be shared by anyone.  In fact at this particular race, there wasn't anyone at the finish line.  No cow bells, no cheering section, not even any food  (that's probably for the 100 mile riders).  So I rode to my car and went home.   Over the next couple of years I managed to get up to 67 miles!  Now we are talking, peers starting noticing me and this is when I started hearing about the all coveted 100 mile ride!  "I just had to do it", all my super fit model friends like to tell me. You will start your training early in the season, wear the thickest padded shorts you can buy and you will get bragging rights.  100 miles means you are the best of the best, the road warriors with the matching jerseys, more in shape than most and an endurance envied by all.  You can't wait to hear the "oohs" and "awes" of how awesome you are.  Right?

Fast forward 3 years to 2012.  I'm training for the 100.  I'm going to do it!  I trained for months, I felt fantastic.  Well almost.  I noticed 2 months into training that my heart rate was off.  It was hard to maintain an even heart rate and sometimes difficult  to catch my breath.  I ignored it.  Once I had to stop because my left quad was uncontrollably twitching and cramping up.  I ignored that too and chalked it up to over training....I just kept going.

Little Red 2012 was here.  I was ready to go mentally and physically, this was my day!.  It wasn't until mile 72 that I almost passed out.  The on staff medic checked my heart rate.  It was way too high, took 30 min for it to come down to normal.  They wanted me to stop, but I said NO.  It was only 28 miles left, seriously only 90 min to go!  There was absolutely no way I was going to quit. I drafted behind my friend Janna for the rest of the way.  She was cheering me on, supporting me and determined to get me to the finish line.  The medic drove by a couple of times to check on me, but I waved him on by. I can't stop.  I made it, 8 hrs later I was at the finish line.  I cried.  I made it, I cycled the 100 century mile ride.  And something inside told me, I may never get to again.

Two months later I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.  I took a year off from any cycle events.  I  continued to train my body in a new way.  Trying to figure out how to build muscle with a body that tires out and takes twice as much work to see results.  In 2014 I went back to Little Red, finishing my 50 mile ride.  My attitude was different this time.  I was thanking God I could still get on a bike, that my legs still worked, that my heart and lungs could still get me through.  Tears of utter gratitude and joy as I crossed the finish line.

2015.  I planned to do the 50 miler again.  But my body says otherwise, maybe next week it would be different.  But not today.  At first I was disappointed.  Frustrated that my body wasn't doing what I knew it could!  I decided 27 miles was going to be my best for today.  I realized half way through, how fantastic riding 27 miles is.  For all those stuck in a hospital bed, confined to a wheelchair,  working full time, whatever it may be.  I ride for them.  Because I can.  I love being asked how far I rode.  As if it matters.  A typical reply to the 27 mile is "ahhh, good for you."  In a tone that says, at least you tried and really a monkey could do it.  A tone that says, I took the easy route.   I didn't peddle a 100 miles. But I did make it to the same finish line.  What you get out of the finish line is up to you.   I train women almost every day, that are overcoming an uphill battle with their health, that are too hard on themselves.  To them, I promise to be a better cheerleader for any goal met.  The first mile ran, the first 5 miles on a bike, the first 10 min jogging without stopping....Woo woo way to go, you are amazing!