Raised by Wolves

About those wolves...

Important to understanding this soul, is to know a little about how I grew up. I have taken to telling my life story with this opening line..."I was raised by wolves". That typically gets a grin and a listening ear.

In my case, it really is true. In fact, one might believe that is why I am drawn to cycling. Those pace lines really do resemble a "pack".

Ivan Smith was the father of three sons, twins and then one year later another son. It was a full eight years later that Wilma and Ivan had what they came to call their youngest, their "bonus' child. Yes, that would be yours truly. The early years of raising these boys was a difficult time and those years did little to shall we say, refine the family.

At the age of 49, Ivan passed away from Lung Cancer. This "bonus child" had just turned ten years old. Fast forward to those formative high school years: dates were met by these three formitable brothers and my lessons of youth were taught through the eyes of "wolves".

I turned 16 years old in The Dalles, Oregon. The rite of passage in this small town and the key to any life at all, was a driver's license. Each of my three brothers had their own unique way of teaching me to drive. We borrowed my mother's VW bug and each one in turn proceeded to teach this pup the most important driving skill of all.

Stephen believed that every person must learn on their very first day behind the wheel, just how to start from a dead stop on a steep grade, with their emergency brake (I will have to admit, years later I did need this when driving in San Fran).Stephen drove me out in to the country (not a long drive) and found a steep incline in a cherry orchard.

Scott's most memorable lessons came in the form of driving "rules".

"If you're lost, go everywhere fast"

"Never trust anyone with a dent in their car"

He also left me with a key experience, believing that everyone should demonstrate a "cop turn" before passing their driver's test.

Mark seemed more practical in his driving lessons, and most likely the reason I was able to drive well at all. Mark took me out on the highway and taught me the traffic signs and the general courtesies of the road.

Such a window to these wolves approach to life.

The Need for Speed

During this season of recovery and conditioning I have learned, once again, of three-legged stool of performance: Distance; Hills and where the real fun lies....SPEED! But alas, power and speed have been the last to come this year.

Admittedly, I have not mastered the first two elements, but I have completed a Century and while training for this distance, conquered each hill that this area of North Carolina has to offer. If you're located here, you know I mean Liestra! That final leg of the stool is elusive. I have seen glimpses of it, but then the inability to sustain.

Please allow me to digress for a minute to a few "stories from the road".
A few weeks ago our riding group, Moms On Bikes (MOB), were out for our usual training ride. We have a regular route of about 50 miles that we do each Saturday morning. On this particular morning it seemed that each group of riders (for the most part men...sorry guys) believed that they were faster than us and that they should pass our, albeit short, paceline. Each time a group passed us, they soon realized that they could not maintain their pace (the wind can really blow over Lake Jordan) and consequently fall in ahead of us, at a slower pace. In this particular case, the group passing us was larger than the others and we ended up falling into their paceline. Curiously, one rider seemed to be setting a pace out ahead of the others...acting almost as a rabbit for the paceline. My friend and I got restless and were tired of these groups of (sorry again guys) MEN believing that we were weaker. I gave a little wink and a nod to my co-conspirator, and with one statement, "I'll take it" we moved as one unit to the right, and decided to chase down the rabbit. Brenda grabbed my rear wheel and we successfully rode past the paceline and chased the speed-demon in the lead. NOW THAT WAS FUN!

Each Saturday morning we ride and then enjoy coffee as our reward.
This past Saturday we realized that soccer and other commitments might steal these precious moments from us and that we had to ride hard for the last 12 miles and make up enough time to earn our respite. "I'll take it" meant that I would take the first pull and that we would trade off frequently enough to maintain a good clip, with our coffee as the reward. What a team effort!
Then with about 3-4 miles remaining I hoped that we could pull ourselves against the wind and up the mild grade at a pace we had not yet accomplished. It was my turn to pull, after such great efforts from my cycling compatriots. Somewhere this energy surged through me...LETS GO! Our finish line will be the sign for the Apex City Limits...The Peak of Good Living!
What effort and what fun we had pedaling so hard toward that goal! We made it and felt such exhilaration!

Oh, what a need for SPEED!

Distance....check
Hills....check
Speed...what does this mean...argh! Intervals.

Okay, I know what I gotta do. The reward is great, the work is hard.
As our tagline for Basketball Heights states: Dream Big. NO SHORTCUTS

Lessons from the road...

The red bike, along with 2599 other bikes with riders had fantastic weather for riding last weekend. Combined, we raised 1.2 million dollars for the MS Society!

Lots of travel and the opportunity for several of life's lessons occurred over the course of six days...

Lesson one: LISTEN...to history and to your friends

The week started in New Bern, NC on September 11th. 2600 cyclists line up, waiting nervously for the cannon to go off, signaling the start to a ride all have trained for all year. A moment a silence ensues in memory of Americans fallen just 8 years prior. One cyclist pulls out an American flag just ahead of me, as an operatic voice sings the National Athem, acapella. A tear rolls down my cheek. Never forget the lessons of history.

We set out....waaaay too fast for a century ride....just the mistake that myself and friends had said we would not make. About mile 12 of chasing the pace-line, I turned to my friend Katy and asked a rhetorical question, "what did Brenda (the wisest among us) tell us just before we left for New Bern?" She had texted me and said, "remember to ride your own ride". We immediately slowed to our normal pace. Listen to those wise voices, be yourself and "ride your own ride"

Lesson two: YOU CANNOT LISTEN WHILE YOU'RE TALKING

Part two this week of travel came very early Monday morning. Oh yes, ride a coupla hundred miles then get up at 4am for a business trip to Toronto. Suffice it to say, Monday was rough.

Members of our fine company came from Canada, US, Mexico and Brazil to discuss planning for 2010. Three days of talking, with precious little listening on anyone's part. But heck, isn't that what we Americans do best? I did begin to notice, however, that those whose primary language is not English, were better listeners. They also spoke only when their words were well-prepared and quite impactful. It was necessary to listen closely in order to understand the thesis.

Note to self, it is better to understand than to be understood.

Lesson three: It is the little things that make, or break, important relationships

This may be a lesson that I leave for you to learn yourself, as there is some pain in writing this post. Suffice it to say that we must all be self-aware....aware of the impact our words and actions have on others. It is the nuances of communication that are important. Pay attention.

Riding that Red Bike...

Sept 13th weekend is very special! The Red Bike will carry me 200 miles in support of a worthy cause....fighting the crippling effects of MS. I have ridden in this event five or six times, yet somehow this year seems special.

The reason can only be how fortunate I am to be healthy and whole, not facing the challenges that a person with MS will face on this ride.

Sure, I am recovering from major surgery on my shoulder and there is that hamstring pull that has been bothering me all year....but gosh, it all seems trivial in comparison.

The ride will be fun, and that is thanks to Carolina Brewing Company, our team's sponsor and MOB...(Moms on Bikes), our own small group of riders who have ridden together all year. More about the ride in future posts, and I'll try to send pictures from the road!

The Big Red Ball

For as long as I can remember, athletics has been central to life. Acompanying that very active life has been pain and injuries. Starting with knee injury in middle school, on to shin splints in high school, and serious back pain through college. 35 years of playing "wack-a-mole" with pain...solving one issue and another crops up. The past few years has brought surgeries for knee, achilles and shoulder. Now, one might think that any sane person would give up and think...gosh, maybe my body simply is not built for all of this! Why not take up needle point or read a book? Truth is, I guess I'm just not that smart.

With all of my recent injuires, I'd like others to benefit from what i have learned in recovery and injury prevention. Yes, I admitted to a limited faculty when it comes to acknowledging pain and treating it. But with an education in Athletic Training and years of an active life, I might have something to offer in this regard.

This year, I have never felt better! This is a result of actively attending to some trouble spots of weakness and tension. The most important discovery of all? Stretching the very deep muscles of the abdomen. There are a few ways to accomplish this, and the best I have found is laying supine over a yoga ball, allowing yourself to relax and take the shape of the ball with your back. I would add a photo of this exercise, but I am quite certain that I look absolutely ridiculous. This 6'1" frame with legs a half of a mile long has got to be quite a sight!

Additional discoveries:

• The incredible value of deep tissue massage
• Balanced strength quads to hams...translation? My hamstrings are weak!
• Countering the effect of tasks always done in front of us...computer, carrying children, etc. results in need to stretch pecs and strengthen mid-back

As I stated, this is the first year in at least ten where its September, and I feel great!

Thanks to my Physical Therapist and Massage Therapist ..oh yes, and of course to those surgeons...

My Red Bike

I remember the wonderful children's book by Scott Emerson and Howard Post, The Magic Boots. It was my youngest son's favorite book. When we read it, he would get a far off look in his eyes and he would mentally travel with William Wilkins...down the Amazon River and other incredible adventures. Just as those boots carry William away, so too does My Red Bike.

Yes, there is an actual Red Bike. It's a custom-fitted Serotta that has carried me, literally and figuratively, for thousands of miles. It has carried me through life's transitions and inspires me to take on the world. In fact, five days from now Red Bike and I will ride 200 miles in support of a cure for MS. This, after a year of rehab from Rotator Cuff surgery with all of its complications.

Plans for this blog are to explore what it is to live a long and very full life. How do we get better, physically, mentally and spiritually, instead of falling prey to the traps of aging. I am by nature, physical. Fitness is central to my being and as I approach a new decade of life, the plan is to expect great physical performance from this body. I am nearing 50 and feel better than I have in years.

"Every morning when William Wilkins got out of bed, he brushed his teeth, patted his dog, Bob, and put on his cowboy boots..."

What possible adventure could lie ahead?
William has his boots...and we have My Red Bike