Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Mad Tom Road – A Sestina about Touring in Vermont.

Dusk faded into darkness


On that grueling ride, on Mad Tom Road

It was the hardest I have ever climbed

The hardest this forty-eight year old body has ever been pushed

In the Vermont Green Mountains, sixty-five miles into the day, we were lost

Yet, we persevered and the company of each other buoyed our spirits



In the black night I felt the woodland Spirits

Peering at the lone riders in the darkness

Yet, I was not afraid, and optimism was not lost

Our directions said “continue on” Mad Tom Road

But we had reached a “T” and had to choose – right or left, up or down -- so onward we pushed

Taking the left, we continued and upward we climbed



How difficult this steep hill was that we climbed

Yet, unlike the depression that pulls down my spirits

This challenge of being pushed

In the darkness

On a deserted tree lined, country road

Did not drag me down – hope was not lost




Yet, we were hopelessly lost

Off the bicycles, walking, we still climbed

Until we saw some lights along the road

So guided by Spirits

We followed the lights up the long driveway and out of the darkness

Not knowing what awaited us as onward we pushed



Toward the end, where there stood a small house, each pedal stroke we slowly pushed

A man greeted us with “Howdy, how are you?” I replied. “Lost!”

We stood in the darkness

Were told that needlessly we had climbed

Even so, we were not defeated and held onto our adventurous Spirits

And so, we descended, disbelievingly, down the steep gravel road.



A tangent, a diversion, a mistake was that Mad Tom Road

Yet our meddle was tested, our bodies and minds pushed

And we reveled in the strength of our Spirits

The challenging of being lost

Is how to find yourself – and we did, and climbed

Out of the darkness



Our Spirits as we travel life’s road

Can descend into darkness, yet there are times when we are pushed

Where we see that all is not lost and there is purpose, albeit spiritual, for the mountains climbed.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Another Harbor to the Bay AIDS Ride September 25th, 2010

Dear Family and Friends:


As many of you know, I have ridden the Harbor to the Bay Ride for AIDS charities for the past three years. This year will be my fourth. I ride this charity ride for many reasons. First, I know that we are still battling AIDS on all fronts – medical, educational, and social. Although many people have become complacent about AIDS, perhaps due to the fact that there are better treatments and people are living longer, it is still an illness that takes lives. As a mother of a sixteen year old, I worry about the possible impact of AIDS on her life. I know she needs to be educated and aware to act responsibly and be safer and although I can talk with her and do, I also feel it is critical to support organizations who work to educate youth.

Secondly, I ride in memory of my friends who have died of AIDS. I lived in San Francisco when the epidemic first emerged. At the time, there was a lack of information, no treatments, and lots of fear. I became an AIDS educator and shared the increasing knowledge of the disease as well as safer sex and drug use practices. I took care of friends as they became sick and died. It was a devastating time. I ride for these friends – to say I have not forgotten you.

Thirdly, I ride because I can. I may not be able to endow a foundation like a Carnegie, but I can ride and do my little part to make the world better.

So, again I am asking you to contribute to my ride if you can. I know there are many good causes to support and that money is tight for everyone. I just ask that you consider supporting me and this cause in whatever way you can.

If you can donate to my ride, you can do so online by going to my Harbor to the Bay homepage: https://www.harbortothebay.org/personal.asp?ID=618 Or if you prefer, you can download a form and send in your donation by going to harbortothebay.org and clicking on “donate” from the menu on the left of the page. I am rider #51.

Unlike many charity events where a percentage of the money raised goes to overhead, in this ride a 100% of the funds go directly to the service and research organizations.

Please know that I am not fond of either group letters or asking my closest family and friends for money. However, I believe that this is a worthy cause and that the money raised makes a difference. Another way you can support me, is to forward this letter to your family and friends who you think would be interested and willing to donate. As always, I am so grateful for all the support that you all give me in my life!

Blessings,

Pata

Monday, August 23, 2010

Cycles on a Bicycle (A sestina)

I fell in love with you on a bicycle


and this love grows

through the seasons and the cycle

I feel the movement

of time

and the call of the open road.



As I ride Route 111 – a New Hampshire country road,

I push the pedals of the bicycle

Pushing up the hills of time

As my spirit grows

And opens with the movement

Of the seasons and my life cycle



As I reflect on my journey and my place in this cycle

I know that this road

Knows my movement

Feels the tread of the tires of my bicycle

Leads me to new places where I grow

With the passage of time



What is this time?

What is this cycle?

Aware of my aging body, my curiosity grows

And I wonder about the uncharted road

I am awed by the bicycle, my bicycle

and my need for forward movement.



I dreamt of the movement

Of the clock ticking away time

Yet here, riding this bicycle

I feel each beat of my heart and know that I can cycle

Through this small town, along this road

where the sun shines, and a simple flower grows


Yet, even as my life changes and grows

I know that stillness will prevail and cease my movement

I know that there will be an end to the road

Where there will be no time

Yet that too is a cycle

And when I die, I hope it is on my bicycle



Through this journey and on this road my life grows

The bicycle propels me and gifts me with joyous movement

And in this moment, time ceases, and I see the glorious cycle

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tending the Spark: The Joy of Cycling

The weather has been better and I rode five days in a row. However, I feel like a water buffalo on a bike. This is in part because I gained about ten pounds over the winter, as well as I have been off the bike for a while and am not in very good shape. Sometimes when I feel this way it is hard to remember the joy of riding because it is such an effort and the internal voices which chastise me about not doing more over the winter or how could I let myself gain weight start up. However, ultimately the joy of cycling is WHY I do it. If it wasn’t fun, I wouldn’t do it.

Sometimes, even when I am at the top of my game during the season, I lose track of the joy. It is more a mindset than anything else. When I set workout goals and do grueling intervals or hills, without feeling the joy of movement and the outdoors, I lose track of the point (at least for me).

I have noticed that when I feel that cycling is a chore, it is time for a ride where I smell the roses, not a hammer fest with club members out to chase you down. There are other times when hammering is the thing that gives me joy. Pushing my body and limits can be fun and give me a sense of satisfaction, but in reasonable doses.

I have to approach my riding with joyful mindset. Although riding has many intrinsic benefits (defined leg muscles, lower blood pressure, fitness etc…) I find the joy and spiritual connection I feel when I ride to be the most motivating and satisfying. Some of this mindset has to do with being in the moment. Usually when I ride, I can put aside all the rest of the worries and troubles and just be in the present. Not only is riding a moving meditation, but it clears my mind and can give me a new perspective on life.

So this season, I want to be more mindful of the joy and spiritual aspects of my riding. For it to be a lifelong pursuit for me, I have to not lose that spark – instead I have to nurture it into the passion it currently is for me.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Freezing and Thawing and the Coming of Spring

Yesterday it snowed. The trees are shrouded in white and quite beautiful. The day before it was 38 degrees and I rode 25 miles on my bike. It was my first ride over twenty miles this year. On that day, it felt like spring was coming, but then it snowed. But the coming of spring is like that. It is not linear. The stream freezes, thaws, freezes, and thaws some more, until finally it flows and spring arrives.

This has been a rough winter for me though. Often with the coming of the snow and the cold, darkness of mood comes too – and like the frozen stream it makes it hard to move and flow. Depression is a thief. It robs me of vitality, energy and life. It makes it difficult to write or ride or even get out of bed. The world is drained of its color. Yet, I am reminded, on the warming days, that spring will come and my depression will also wane.

Imbolc, on February 2nd, is a time to remember this. It is the celebration of the imperceptible new growth under the snow. It is a time to figuratively plant seeds that will blossom in the spring and bear fruit in the summer. It is my favorite pagan holiday because it heralds the change in season and reminds me, often when I am at my darkest, that the days are lengthening and change is inevitable. This year I began coming out of my physical hibernation to begin to think about training again.

Depression drags me down and makes it hard to get motivated to train, especially when it means doing it indoors on a trainer or in a spin class. I realize, more and more, that when I ride outside it feeds my soul. This is not the case indoors where I feel like every pedal stroke is a chore. Sometimes in the dead of winter, I forget how much I love riding outside and the spiritual connection I feel when I do. I forget that riding is energy giving. I forget that it is not just about staying in shape, or riding to improve my mood or any of that. It is about feeling alive.

The other day, even though I felt slow, heavy and out of shape, I was reminded of this. Spring will come and my blues will recede in the warmth of the sun.