Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Mad at myself

This morning, I had every intention of riding my bike to my therapy appointment.
New tires on my cross bike.
Fresh Stans (thanks, Bill).
Gear laid out, at the ready, the night before.
As for the weather today? Perfect.
What is my deal??
Instead of riding, I headed out (in my car), stopped for coffee and found myself sitting on a park bench with a half hour to kill.
It's not even like I don't get quiet time to myself like that...
Daily, I have a decent chunk of time while my little one naps to do nothing, if that's what I need.
Lately, I feel paralyzed...stuck, whenever I have the opportunity to ride/run/enjoy the glorious weather we've been having.
No doubt, I'll be kicking myself come the freezing, gray days of winter...
Kicking myself for wasting this time.

I seriously need to get over this because moving/going hard (or even going easy...but, at least going in some capacity) is probably exactly what I need to rid myself of this feeling.

I think I'm still relatively fit.
If anything, I've lost weight this past month in spite of my sloth-like behavior.
So, yeah...
I'm mad at myself for this.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014


One of my earliest memories:
Me, sitting on the faded green director's chair in front of my dad's stereo, headphones perched on my curly mop, listening to Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" on vinyl...

My dad is taking me to see Songs in the Key of Life performed live by Mr. Stevie Wonder in November.
To say I'm excited would be an understatement.
I've been jonesing to see/hear some live music & I can only imagine what a treat this will be...

Thanks, BP, for instilling your deep love of music in me...what a gift.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Coffee with my mom

This morning, as I gleefully bounded up the stairs for my annual, umm, "female" exam (yes, "gleefully" is sarcastic), I had a surprising recollection of my mom accompanying to this office a few years ago. 
While I'm usually inclined to not share my doctor appointments with an audience, I asked my mom to join me for a routine scheduled ultrasound at 9 weeks (or thereabouts) pregnant.
I remember the joyful tears in her eyes as we watched the teeny tiny beating heart up on the big flat screen in the dim room.
I am so thankful to have shared that experience with her.

After my appointment, I stopped in town for an iced coffee and brought it to the cemetery.
I laid out a blanket at the foot of my mom's grave and recounted (out loud) that day to her...the nerves and excitement that I had felt, the fact that I was so glad she had been there by my side.
I told her how Maeve points to the pictures of "Grammy" on our kitchen wall and leans over to kiss them/her.
I told her about my challenging ride in the humid woods with my dad last night.
I told her about the excitement in my brother's voice when he called to tell me about his audition for the upcoming prison talent show.
I told her about Max easing into fourth grade with a renewed confidence (or as Max would say, "swagger"...I know).
I told her about the pit I feel in my stomach, the ache in my heart, every time I think about her upcoming 61st birthday (9/30) I'll bake her a cake and we'll celebrate "with" her.

With my coffee finished and our conversation over, I sat in silence and soaked up the sunshine and perfect breeze.

I've said it before, but having my mom's final resting place so close to home brings me immense comfort.

I miss her every. single. day.
We're so fortunate to have such a beautiful place nearby to visit and reflect.

I see many more coffee dates with Mare in my future.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Friday stuff...

On Cyclocross:
I spent the better part of this morning's therapy appointment talking about racing (particularly, cross). I haven't raced cross since...2011? That was a while ago.
2014 was to be my big comeback (and I say that somewhat in jest, as the last time I raced, my results and attitude were less than stellar).
As luck would have it, my summer and training went to shit after a chain of unexpected events and I've reconciled with that.
It's fine.
Cross can wait (or can it??)...will Granogue be back next year? {sigh}
I've always been encouraged/impressed/motivated by the fact that women can (and do, indeed) get stronger with age within this sport.
So, yay, for that, as I'm not getting any younger.
Maybe my best years of racing are still ahead of me.
Maybe I've peaked and will find myself downgrading and hanging on just for fun...
Maybe maybe maybe...time will tell.
I thought about going up to Nittany, cowbell in hand,  to watch my dad and peers race tomorrow, to ring in the new season as a spectator and supporter.
That's that.

Max got on the school bus and I took Maeve for her first dip in the Brandywine.
Exploring the river was one of my favorite things to do with Max when he was her age (20 months now...holy shit) and as it turns out, the excitement of the river is every bit as joyous for my little girl.
As soon as we reached the rocky little shore, she bounded right into the shallow water, clapping and smiling and repeating, "yay" and "wow!"
We held hands and waded downstream until the water reached her belly, then we turned around and threw stones and chased leaves.
It made for a fun and tiring morning.
As I buckled Maeve back into her carseat after our little adventure, I had a distinctly strong vision/recollection of my mom in that same parking lot, summer of 2012.
I was pregnant with Maeve and had wrapped up a kayak outing with my dad...I remember my mom watching, waving from the trail adjacent to the parking lot as we heaved the boats back to her car.
"Any calamities?" She joked.
I almost didn't tell her about dumping myself into the drink, getting tangled and bruised during a fruitless battle with a tree and some rushing water.
Of course, I told her, though and of course she was like, "Kimberly!!"
These little recollections and reflections make me smile and laugh, especially the ones that may have otherwise been buried in the innocuous recesses of my memory.

It's Friday.
The MAC kicks off another season this year.
Shit happens.
Good luck, MAC brothers & sisters...kick some goddamn cross ass.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

So it begins...

The school year has commenced after a summer fraught with its share of huge downs, but plenty of ups, too.
I must admit, I'm feeling positive about Max starting fourth grade.
Last year was a challenge and I was not my best what with multiple hospital stays, the stress of a newly incarcerated sibling, etc etc etc...
Time to get organized and begin a new chapter.
While it won't be the same without my mom sitting on her front step, excited to hear about his first day, I know Max has countless great memories and a special place in his heart for his beloved Grammy.
Moving on...

Sunday, August 31, 2014

In the thick of it, yet...

It's been a good week.
I feel like I'm adjusting to the meds, therapy has been productive, and I've been spending most of our mornings exploring the woods with my kids.
I've been on my bike a few times and have felt strong (enough), though more cautious/tentative than usual.
On the other hand, I've been a little bit of a recluse other than spending time with my family.
I've been really good at making plans/inviting people over only to cancel or bail almost immediately thereafter.
I'm not feeling like much of a social creature these days, but I know that will pass.
I have moments of extreme numbness, almost a state of depersonalization.
Again, I know it's normal, all things considered, yet it doesn't make it any easier.
I miss my mom immensely.
Sometimes, more so recently, I experience this overwhelming physical sense of loss and homesickness...
I think of my mom and the fact that I'll never see her alive again, never hear her voice, never have her in the passenger seat of my car grooving to whatever song comes up on shuffle, never taste her home made tortillas (mine just don't compare), never have her walk down to the bus stop with me to greet Max after school, never go out for an impromptu breakfast, never enjoy browsing through Anthropologie or having her insist on buying me something cute to wear, never see her beam with pride and delight every time Maeve would lean in for a kiss...
Never never never.
I have all these vivid, amazing memories and I have all these tokens/totems/things that belonged to her, but I don't have her.
I talked to her every day and I still talk to her, but she doesn't talk back...
For that, I'm sad.
I know how lucky I am to have a tirelessly supportive and loving husband.
Healthy children.
A dad who cares deeply.
Countless friends, cousins, family members to lean on.
I know this and quite literally count these blessings every day.
I have no doubt that I'll get through this and the pain will ease over time; however, I am having a hard time understanding everything right now.

Still, it's been a good week and I haven't lost sight of that...
The good.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Good

Last night was the first time I dreamed about my mom since she passed...
It was so nice to hear her voice and be with her.
Today, I had more energy than I've had since the day she died.
Thanks, mom.