Heading Back to Real Life

Tomorrow I get my apartment back, and so I'm heading back down to New Jersey today to spend the evening with my NJ grandparents.  Summer is over (the leaves are already changing colors here in Vermont!), and I'm actually ready for school to start.  One more year, and in May I'll (with any luck) be Dr. Susanna Loewy.  

I can't say that this trip to Vermont has been 100% enjoyable, but I definitely think it healed me in ways no place else can.  As I'm leaving, I'm finally able to see my surroundings, instead of wishing for another, impossible setting.  And so even if I feel a twinge of regret at not being able to smile at first, I think that's okay.  I'm leaving with the anticipation of coming back soon (it's only 4 1/2 hours away; there's no reason not to), and I appreciate all that the little cabin in the woods has done for me, yet again.  

I think I often times come up here when I don't feel well; I don't like associating Vermont with anything bad, so I'm choosing to instead think of it as my escape, as my way of [once again] figuring out who I am and what I want to do next.

I don't have any firm plans for this year - in terms of triathlon or athletics in general, flute-wise, or in regards to any other extra-curricular activities (man, it's been a while since I used the term extra-curricular) - so I'm open to just about anything.  

I do want to qualify for Boston this year, but I have to figure out how to run again first, so that goal might be temporarily put on hold.  There are tons of bike tours I want to do, but I hesitate to commit to anything when I'm so unsure of what the next year will hold; I learned my lesson with IM Cd'A... 

But, I'm completely excited about figuring out where everything will go from here; tons of research and exploring will ensue and I'm sure I'll have a million ridiculous ideas, some of which will actually be followed through.

For now, I'm content to finish writing about my summer and perhaps start to expand the little stories I've started... and play SET and practice the flute and study to be a Doctor of the Flute.

Oh, and Mr. Hurricane Gustav looks like he's heading right for my parents.  They're not evacuating (who would have thought they'd be among the stubborn ones?), but are already starting to board up the windows... 

Bike Ride to a Covered Bridge, North of Brattleboro

Summer's Haiku

writing memories

the blank page staring at me

wish I had more time

I don't know why, but I love the feeling of lacing up shoes before going for a run.

The Best Lap Pool Ever

I couldn't stop picking at the damn scab and now it's totally going to scar.

I just paid for my own sweatshirt.

Wednesday is Thrifty Attic (the best thrift shop ever) day up in Vermont. As I was checking out, I somehow put my Bike and Build sweatshirt on the table and ended up paying for it. It was only a dollar, but the concept of paying for this sweatshirt that I've worn almost everyday since receiving it in February is just hilarious. I didn't ask for the money back because the proceeds go to charity and the women working there are all volunteers. I figured giving $1 to a good cause isn't really something to complain about...

Games

I don't usually play games; I don't know why.  

I rebel from both board and card games, preferring to just sit around, talk, and listen to music.  I don't know if it's because I think I won't be good enough and I'll be embarrassed, or if I'm just lame, but my play-time is when I bike or run or play the flute; I don't usually deal with the contrived variety.

But last night, my 5 boy cousins, ranging from age 10-16, finally wore me down with the constant refusal to accept 'Later', or even 'NO'.

So we played.  We played Apples to Apples, Set, and Gobblet...and it was awesome.  I had tears of laughter streaming down my face in Apples to Apples, and my brow was furrowed in concentration during Set.  All three are amazing games and I want to buy them immediately and play non-stop.

So I  guess maybe I'm not as old and crotchety as I pretend to be; I'm not 26 going on 80...and even if I am...who says 80 year-olds can't play?

One week and counting...

It's so easy to be lazy in the real world.  

It's past 11 and I'm still sitting on my Thermarest in Vermont, staring at a computer screen and the walls of our family's cabin.  Usually by 11, we would have already biked anywhere from 50-90 miles, and eaten breakfast, lunch, and lots of reduced-fat chocolate milk.  

And so today, I plan on both practicing my flute (because I have to EVERY DAY so I can get back to a semi-normal level before school starts) and going for a bike ride.  

My aunts and grandmother and cousins are leaving today, so presently there is a lot of commotion with packing and kids not wanting to leave (there has been some kissing of the cabin walls and refusal to part ways).  

I (stupid STUPIDLY) forgot one of my bike shoes in Louisiana, so I have to also go down into town (again - was there twice yesterday - ugh!) to see if the bike store there will lend me some toe clips...really dorky, I know, but the alternative is to buy new bike shoes, which seems completely superfluous.  

Yesterday, I biked with my running shoes resting on top of the SPD pedals and it's just not-fun.  Climbing up hillish-mountains in Vermont with only the down stroke just feels like both hell and a waste of energy.  A great workout for your calves, for sure, but kind unnecessary as well.  

So as the sun comes out, I'll meander (in my car) down to Manchester and get ready for a bike ride; it'll be a route I did many times last summer, but I'm looking forward to it feeling like a completely different experience - one with a lot less groaning and more grinning, I'm expecting. 

Yesterday was the first time I'd been on my bike since the wheel dip last Sunday and it was amazing.  I felt at home on the bike, and was just so grateful to have such wonderful memories of the past 2+ months.

But today before the bike ride, I'll get my flute out and play.  It's kind of fun getting back into shape, actually.  Everything is really slow and calm and you can see huge progress each time you take out the instrument.

The phone up here in the cabin has been out for a week or so, and we're consequently completely, 100% cut off from society.  Sure, I can walk 10 minutes down the road to check my voicemail and hope that I have enough service to download email, but really - we're all alone up here, with no internet, TV, or phone (cell or otherwise).  I don't feel stuck; it's really refreshing - it makes the times when I do have connection with the outside world mean so much more.  I don't just sit around and refresh my Facebook account over and over.  Instead, I ride my bike through the hills, stop at the waterfall, and jump in with my bike shorts and sports bra.  If the mosquitoes weren't out by the millions, I'd say it was (almost) perfect.  

And here's the 'almost' qualifier: Every time I'm up here in Vermont, I want to share the experience with someone.  This place is such a part of me that I just want the important people in my life to understand.  That feeling of yearning to share is so strong that it almost overwhelms my own enjoyment.  Not quite though; Vermont is seemingly impossible to ruin, and I still have almost a week here before I have to face true reality.

Funny.

Hating and Loving the Madness

And now I'm back in the Northeast.

I have a definite love/hate relationship with the greater New York area.  So much of my family is here; I know the area and I feel comfortable here.  But, I can't stand all the nervous energy.  A lot of times I just want to yell 'Chill OUT!' at anyone and everyone, including myself.

Because that's the worst part - getting overly caught up in it yourself and not even realizing you're a complete madman.

So to combat the insanity, tomorrow I head up to Vermont - it's a gorgeous drive and I'll spend time with my sister, whom I haven't seen in way too long, and I'll see relatives and my favorite place in the world once I arrive.

Things aren't so bad.

Stirring the Crazy

This summer, I got used to being on my bike from anywhere from 4-10 hours a day... and all of sudden I'm not doing anything.  At all.  I went for a 3.1m run on Wednesday, but other than that (and a few long walks in San Francisco), I've been sitting on my bum since Sunday.  It's gross.  And now, I'm sitting on my bum in an airport, which feels even more disgusting.  So, I've got to move.  Airports should have built-in gyms, or tracks, or bike trails...

I miss my bike.  I miss riding and the freedom of the road and all the incredible things I saw every day.  I miss feeling strong and invincible.  

And so now all that energy that used to go to the physical part of my day is stuck inside and I'm the same old obsessive psycho that I have been for quite some time now. And that's not what I want.  I want to be able to preserve that feeling of normality, of being able to go through my day without the mental convulsions of self-doubt.

Because the thing is... I really feel that the other person - the person on the road - is really me.  This uptight, upset personality isn't.  It's instead some version of myself that was created by all the things that go into my every day life - all of the competition and the relationships and the career and just the overall pressure.  

And that me?  I don't like her at all.  I realize she's over-the-top and annoying and obnoxious, and yet I still can't manage to stuff her away.  Writing helps, but then I feel funny that I'm only letting out negative energy into the world.  That's not me either.  

So I just want to go back to the Bike and Build lifestyle, but I realize full-well that it's not sustainable.  Or, maybe it is... but it just doesn't correlate with the path I've taken for my life thus-far.  To be specific, you can't be a flutist and a Beatnick at the same time...and that's unfortunate.  I need more of the lack-of-direction in my life, because you can't panic about not getting to a place if you don't have anywhere to go.

Ideally, I want the simplicity.  Of course, there was plenty of drama and gossip along the road, but it was all contained within one little group of 32 people, and it just somehow seemed a whole lot less serious.  There have been times relatively recently when I felt that things were finally going in a direction that I felt decent about, and I want to reclaim that feeling, even if that particular path didn't work out.  

So, no more getting involved in hopeless situations, and this time I'm standing up for what I want and deserve.  I really think I can do it this time; I think I'm residually strong enough to withstand overflowing emotion, and I will be better for it.  And next time?  

There won't be a next time because I'm going to stop this masochistic cycle right here, in the Houston airport.

Leaving Again

I have a couple hours until I have to leave again.  I'm going to New Jersey tonight to pick up my car and then to Vermont tomorrow morning with my sister.  

The week up there will be a good way to decompress, I think.  I've had a hard time adjusting to normal-er life.  I expected it, but it's still difficult.  I've got a week up there and then I'm back in New Jersey on September 1, with school and auditions starting the next day.  It's kind of overwhelming to think about, especially when I'm still going through withdrawal from the lifestyle to which I've grown accustomed over the past 2.5 months.  

Sometimes I wonder if the extremes are worth it.  I had such an amazing time over the summer, but now things that might usually seem normal are so much lower.  It would definitely be easier to just sit in a constant state of being instead of dealing with the ups and downs.  I don't like missing people or things; I'm not good at it.  It makes me feel vulnerable, and I guess that's why I tend to close myself off as a general rule.  I didn't put up the walls this summer, and I'm glad for that... but dealing with the fallout is just as difficult as I always fear.

I don't mean to be the typical 'Debbie Downer'.  It was a wonderful experience and I'm so lucky to have had the time and resources to participate.  It's just hard to come down, I guess...

So that's it for now.  I won't have reliable internet access when I'm up in Vermont, but I should be able to check email once once in a while when I go into town.  I'll try to write while I'm there as well so that I'll have plenty of blabbering to post.

A Message

It's not that I think I'm forgettable... it's that I'm afraid of being forgotten.  When you leave an intense situation and move into a not-so-intense one, it's easy to think that the whole experience will disappear along with the environment.

So, I'm trying to be more low-key than I actually am.  I'm not good at pretending though, and attempting something that isn't innately 'me' just leads to a general discomfort - for both the specific situation and my person as a whole.  

And this is probably nowhere near as subtle as I think it is, so I'll just say it.  

I miss you.

The Last Third of the Trip

For me, the last part of the trip was definitely the best part. The friendships meant more, the bike rides were beyond gorgeous, and the whole trip became it's own entity; it had a special kind of energy that I doubt could be recreated if you were to try. Here is an overview of the superfluous amount of pictures I have clogging up my computer right now. I'll explain in more detail as I write about each place...

On the Front Page! (getting over the fear of public speaking)

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Nick Adams/Appeal-Democrat

Bike and Build workers hold up a piece of sheetrock. The group has trekked on bike from Jacksonville, Fla., while helping with projects for Habitat For Humanity along its 3,300-plus-mile journey.

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Handlebars and Hammers A 3,000-miles plus bicycle ride paused in Yuba City for a day of work on a Habitat for Humanity home.

Biking and building

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Long journey lays foundation for young men and women

August 14, 2008 11:21:00 PM

By Robert LaHue/Appeal-Democrat

A summer-long journey of handlebars and hammers came to Yuba City Thursday, as a group of 20-somethings parked their bikes to help construct a home.

The work day was part of Bike and Build, a program started in 2002 that takes participants on a cross-country bicycle ride interspersed with working on Habitat for Humanity construction projects.

The trip began more than two months and 3,332 miles ago in Jacksonville, Fla., one of seven cross-country routes taken by 210 Bike and Build participants. The 32 riders in Yuba City come from 16 states and also has one rider from Iran, said Patrick Singler, one of the route's leaders.

"We have a number from New York, a few from California, a couple from Minnesota, a couple from Illinois," Singler of Chicago said. "We have Oregon, Louisiana, Florida, Virginia, all those different places."

Susanna Loewy, a Lafayette, La. native now studying for a doctorate at Rutgers University in New Jersey, said she first heard about Bike and Build from a blind date.

"I never saw him again," she said of her date, "but I looked up the Web site, and here I am."

The entire trip is led by younger adults, Loewy said.

"All of us are under the age of 27," she said. "Everything from where we're staying to our food to where we build and our bike routes is all organized by people our age."

Working alongside the riders on the three-bedroom, two-bath home on Plumas Street was Barbara Campbell, the home's recipient. Part of receiving a Habitat for Humanity home requires family and friends putting in 500 hours of "sweat equity" — in other words, helping work on the house. Campbell said she actually started working on building the house before she was selected to receive it.

"I decided I was going to help build it, whether I was selected or not," she said.

The house has been under construction for the past two years, Campbell said. The house will hopefully be done in the next two or three months.

Tuesday's work day in Yuba City was the last for the riders before their cross-country journey ends on Sunday in San Francisco. The building efforts included spending five days on continuing post-Katrina reconstruction in New Orleans, along with projects in Jacksonville, Pensacola, Fla., Dallas and Farmington, N.M.

"The most rewarding thing is hard to tell, but what I find most rewarding is the inspiration I receive seeing 32 people from all over the country, as well as Iran, working together to fulfill a common goal," Singler said. "I got the chills earlier today when I just stopped and took a breath and saw all these people working together to help some other person."

"More than anything else, I've felt part of a team," Loewy said. "A community that's helping, that's trying to do something positive for the world."

Campbell is just looking forward to when the house is done and she and her 13-year-old son can call it home — instead of the motorhome they've been living in for four years.

"Oh my gosh," she said thinking about moving in. "This is just a blessing for me and my son. I cannot express how much this means for us to have our own home."

No Scars.

It's impossible to believe 9 weeks have passed.

I'm sitting at the San Francisco airport; soon I'll be on the plane back to Louisiana.

Sunday was the wheel dip in the Pacific Ocean and I haven't yet been able to process enough to write anything significant.  

I have mountains of pictures to edit and upload, so there will be slideshows soon enough.  

And as for the words...they will come too, even if they take more time.  

This summer has meant more to me than I'll probably ever be able to express, and right now everything is just way too present and overflowing to be able to portray in any kind of adequate and healthy manner.  I already miss people and biking (and maybe even peanut butter and jelly) and my stomach hurts with the anticipation of missing them more.  I don't know that I've ever felt quite as close to a group of people.  The culmination of riding across the Golden Gate Bridge and then to Ocean Beach was important, but to me there was no specific highlight or climax.  I loved every second and I wish I could have stopped time and continued biking with my friends.

I'll be in Louisiana for a couple days and then I head up to Vermont until school starts and I have an apartment again.  I'll spend the next couple of weeks up in the cabin learning how to play the flute and biking and running and slowly figuring out what is really going on.

Man Down

My phone was stolen from the campground at Lake Tahoe, so I'm most likely not going to be able to communicate well until San Francisco; it's only half a week and I don't mind all that much...it's annoying to lose money of course, but other than that, it's really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to put the announcement out there so no one thinks I'm ignoring them.

The other news is that I crashed yesterday - we had a 3 bike pile-up and I used a fence as my bumper. My face and arm are kind of busted up (pictures soon, I promise), my neck is really sore, and I have a beautiful pink and purple bruise on my leg. Everyone is fine though, and even the bikes survived, so no real harm done.

We had our longest ride a few days ago; it was 110 miles and I got in with the first group of riders, averaging around 17mph - I was really proud and excited and the whole day was definitely one of the best I've ever had. After getting in around 1, we went to a bar and had three beers, watched the Olympics (the men's bike race!), and consumed a huge cheeseburger. Then, we went to the town pool and swam, and I swear at dinner that night I ate more than I've ever eaten before. We slept outside and watched the stars and I'll use the level of contentment I had that night as a measure for a long time to come.

We're now on our descent to the Pacific Ocean. We're crossing the Sierra Nevadas and the scenery is beyond gorgeous. I was grumpy this morning due to the phone loss and busted up face, but the afternoon's ride made me (once again) remember how lucky I am to be doing this. Only 5 more days and we'll be in San Francisco. I'm not at all conflicted about it and there are no mixed emotions - I am 100% sure I don't want this to end.

Last State

Sweeping to Lake Tahoe

Oh. My. God.

Lonely

The Gallon Challenge

Talking

A couple of days ago we had a 95 mile ride, and I rode the whole thing with one person...I don't know that I've ever spent that kind of time with one person - of course I've spent an entire day with someone, but I don't know that I've sat side by side and just talked for such an extended period of time.  It was really nice.  I would have thought I'd get bored, but I didn't.  The ride wasn't easy (uphill and against the wind, of course) and we rode slowly, but the time flew by and it ended up being one of the most enjoyable rides I've had thus far.

Then yesterday, we rode 108 miles into Ely, NV.  We rode through a valley, up a mountain, and then back down to the next valley.  I spent most of the day with the two girls with whom I've actually managed to connect. (I have a hard time with girls, for those of you who might not remember my rampage from a couple months back.)  At mile 80, as we started up the mountain, there was an oasis of a bar... we stopped and ate sandwiches (no beer because it's against the rules to drink and ride), and then I went on my way alone - I've realized I climb much better (and enjoy it more) when I'm by myself.  It was raining and cold and steep and a part of me was definitely questioning the purpose of that particular moment in time, but when the descent began and I sprinted into town, it was all more than worth it.

108+ miles (I got lost in town and added some mileage) and my legs felt fine.  I thought about going back out and doing just a few more so that I could extend my longest ride, which is currently 115.  But, I opted to fall on the floor and sleep instead - probably a wise decision.

Last night, a few of us slept outside.  It was a beautiful night with both clouds and stars and talking until falling asleep... and I slept completely soundly.  And then... the sprinklers went off.  7:30 in the morning on our day off... which actually felt late since I'm now used to getting up before 5 on a regular basis.  I really wish I had the scene on video - the four of us, running around, half asleep, not knowing whether to save our sleeping bags, our phones, our books, or ourselves... and instead just succeeding in soaking everything and running around like heads without chickens.

After recovering, we went to the grocery store and made the best breakfast of the trip - a spinach, tomato, cheese, and spaghetti frittata, latkes, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch - it was perfect.

And now I get to relax for the remainder of my day off.  I've heard there is going to be a Gallon Challenge... people are going to attempt to drink a whole gallon of milk in an hour... I don't think it can lead to good results, but it'll most likely be hilarious to watch.

This trip is winding down; I can't believe it'll all be over in 10 days.  I'm going to miss this so much more than I ever thought possible - the people, the land, the biking, and just the overall way of life.  I complain and groan and get sore and tired and miserable, but all in all, it's been the best summer of my life.  

Yeah!!

Shit.