Can’t you show me nothing but surrender? It’s a quote from Patti Smith’s punk poem/anthem Land. I’ve already written all about the song, so I’ll spare you my unabashed praise, I just want to use the quote as my jumping off point for some thoughts about new year resolutions. Surrender: As used in the song, … Continue reading Surrender
Mountain Biking
Stuck
When I tumbled off my mountain bike two months ago, I knew immediately that I damaged my shoulder. Crumpled on the ground, the sensible side of my brain took over: Get up, get riding. Most people who grew up playing sports know that after a significant muscle strain or joint injury, there is often a … Continue reading Stuck
Fight, fight, fight!
Sometimes there's nothing to feel Sometimes there's nothing to hold Sometimes there's no time to run away Sometimes you just feel so old —Lyrics from Fight by The Cure I realized this last winter: the day after my sixtieth birthday, I would lead a group of teenagers on a mountain bike ride. Me, four … Continue reading Fight, fight, fight!
Walk Away, Baby
The 5th Beatle Walking TallThe Walking DeadWalk on the Wild SideLong Walk to FreedomI Walk the LineThese Boots are made for WalkingWalk this WayWalking on SunshineThe Long WalkDead Man WalkingA Walk in the WoodsHow to Walk Movies, music, books—it permeates our culture. We even know catchy sayings like walk a mile in his shoes, and … Continue reading Walk Away, Baby
Subluxation… Again
Sigh. Another Saturday afternoon on the couch nursing a boo-boo. Someone added a new mountain biking obstacle—a bridge of logs lined up perpendicular to the trail, maybe seven feet long. The bridge doesn’t actually span anything, the only purpose is to have fun. Like a rumble-strip on steroids. In the future, as I ride my … Continue reading Subluxation… Again
Blooms
“Oh no coach, you’re bleeding!” “I’m always bleeding.” I can’t believe I still have this conversation. Honestly, everyone should know by now. Back at the cars after a mountain bike ride, blood streaks my arms. A kid, usually one of the younger ones, approaches me with concern. At some point during the ride, I brush … Continue reading Blooms
Poke at the Hive
<Slurring> “I know zhu believe that. We TALKED about thish BEFORE!” I waited, lined up in the pub. No servers here, you want something, you order it at the counter—food, drink, merch. Or maybe at the bar, if you’re lucky enough to get a seat at the bar. Five, six people away from the register. … Continue reading Poke at the Hive
Decline
My coworker Bob called them chapter breaks—those steps in our fitness level that we periodically tumble down, never to return. I noticed this first in my thirties. I lined up a string of successes, personal records in a couple of races—a 10K and a ten-mile—a respectable marathon time, twenty-third overall in a thirty-three-story stair climb … Continue reading Decline
Epiphany
Rud waits at obvious landmarks and forks in the trail. When I catch up, he rides off again, steering his mountain bike over rocks and roots or a log now and then. I follow, but each time, he’s quickly out of sight. I stop worrying about holding him up. I can’t ride any faster, I’m … Continue reading Epiphany
Best Birthday Ever
After Eli and I finished our ride, we came home and drank a couple of beers. Today is Columbus Day, the annual celebration of the man who ‘discovered’ America. Never mind that the Americas were already populated with people when he got here, and there is clear evidence that northern Europeans were already traveling back … Continue reading Best Birthday Ever
I Can Ride That
I stress about what I write. Not the topics, but the word count, the frequency, the quality. I lie—I stress about the topics, too. I joined a writers' group on Facebook—Authors with Tourette Syndrome. “Authors.” Stretching? Aspirational? I'm more comfortable with the generic term writer. Author implies output, something published. That's not me, barely. I … Continue reading I Can Ride That
The Dog Days
I see my vacation in the rearview mirror. A fading memory of a not-so-great week. (Eli’s injury, then illness, then an early return home. <<== Link). Susan scoured VRBO looking to rent a place at the beach for a few days as a family consolation prize. Apparently, a popular idea. No one vacationed last summer. … Continue reading The Dog Days
Postcard from Maine
Eli crashed hard. I assume. I didn’t see it, he speeded ahead when the terrain got dicey. Or really, I slowed down and he didn’t. I rounded a bend and saw him flat on his back in the middle of the path, his bike in the brush. I could tell he was OK. His head … Continue reading Postcard from Maine
Jeff and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad (Medical) Day
Do you know this title reference? It's from a kids' book. I don’t know the story: Alexander’s Super Bad Day, etc. I never read it as a kid. By the time the book came out, I was too old for it. And somehow, as a parent with two young children and a serious read-aloud addiction, … Continue reading Jeff and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad (Medical) Day
Concise Book of Muscles
Susan dug out the Concise Book of Muscles this morning. As I limped around the house for the eighth consecutive day making short sucking sounds that mimic air being let out of a tire whenever I stepped wrong, I thought it might be a good idea to try to identify the issue. Last weekend, in … Continue reading Concise Book of Muscles
Old Man Takes a Hit
Mid-day. Not even mid-afternoon, barely past lunch time. I’m done for the day. On the couch, feet up, ice-pack on my thigh, shallow breaths. As a mountain biker, injury is inevitable, part of the sport. I bought my bike fourteen months ago. Eli, one year in at that point, all but addicted, and needing a … Continue reading Old Man Takes a Hit
Feeling sort of Autumn
Some of the trees still have leaves. At least in my neighborhood. I’m not an arborist, I can scarcely tell a maple from an oak. Some of the trees are red, some are yellow. The rest are brown or bare. Saturday, Eli and I drove up the mountain to go mountain biking. Is it actually … Continue reading Feeling sort of Autumn
Coach Jeff
I’ll call it a success. The mountain bike season ended last weekend with an outdoor pizza party on a chilly night. I can’t recall the last time I felt so cold. Maybe last March? Spring was pretty warm, plus during the lockdown I was always indoors. So yes, not cold since March. I didn’t like … Continue reading Coach Jeff
Pumped Up
I dreamed about ‘the woods’ last night. The woods were a sprawling swath of undeveloped land separating my neighborhood from Interstate 270. During my grade school years, my friends and I spent our afternoons and weekends searching for salamanders and crayfish under rocks in the rainwater stream bisecting the woods. We roamed well-worn paths and … Continue reading Pumped Up
The American Way
I’m tired. Really tired. Worn out. I’ll make my case, and you can roll your eyes and tell me to buck up. People have infants, or children with special needs, or two jobs, or three jobs, or an active social life. People are busy. People are used to being busy. I’m not. The week that … Continue reading The American Way
The Other Stuff 