Monday, June 13, 2011

With the official start of summer just about a week away visions of summer vacation hotspots have smothered my mind.

Last week my younger brother, Joe, and I rode our bicycles from NJ back to our roots in central PA.  Joe took a bus to my house in NJ, and away we went.  We carried a tent, sleeping bags, a small stove and pan, a can of baked beans, some spaghetti noodles, and a jar of tomato sauce, along with an extra set of clothes for each of us, some cash, and our ID’s. 

The bus ride to my house cost Joe precisely $14. We left NJ on a Tuesday, and were home by Thursday afternoon.  Our trip wasn’t long in regard to days spent on the road by any stretch of the imagination, but the daily mileage was tough.  Of course, we picked the hottest days of the year thus far to bike with temperatures exceeding 100 degrees Fahrenheit on two out of the three days. There were definitely moments when we felt as if we would never make it home and instead succumb to heat exhaustion.  But even with the heat surpassing seasonal records, we had a great time.  It’s a lot of fun being out on the road.  And heck, we did it all for a measly few bucks.  

We spent about $5 a piece daily for lunch and a little less than that total for dinner both days.  We ate hotdogs and baked beans the first evening cooked in a pan on our stove set atop of sewer, and spaghetti and moon-pies the second night.  We were back home by the end of the third day.  For dinner that night our parents picked up the check in celebration of our arrival.  
 
We slept in a city park the first night, illegally of course, and in an abandoned relatives house the second night, so our housing was free.  

Overall, the trip couldn’t have cost us more than $50 total, a cheap three day vacation, and a good way to kick off the summer.  Proof that vacations don’t always have to be long, elaborate or pricey.  For me, a vacation is simply a break from the routine of our everyday lives.

Now, I understand not everyone considers three days of strenuous physical activity “vacation”.  Heck, after getting a flat tire ten miles into the trip, experiencing a brake problem on the morning of day two, having my gear cable snap thirty miles from home on day three just about when the wind decided to be extraordinarily uncooperative, and having to bike those last thirty miles with only my three hardest gears across repetitively rolling hills and up a mountain, even I was ready for a different type of vacation. 

Still, I’m of the school that believes accomplishing something difficult beats any luxury vacation.  I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of rolling up to our destination on bike.  It was totally cool!  And it brought back a flurry of emotions reminiscent of arriving in San Francisco a few years back.    

Now, here are a few not-so-tough-on-the-checkbook vacation ideas for those slightly saner than me, and also for those looking for a little summer dare…

1. Pack up your gear; load it on your bike, and head out for a two plus day ride.  If you’re lucky enough to live close to a city, the beach, or even a friend’s house, why not give the car a break from the heat and take the time to venture there on the wheels of your bike?  Destination biking is a blast.  You don’t have to go fast, just plan a safe route.  Go at a realistic and safe speed.  And, possibly above all, pack light!  On your way to the beach, stop for lunch at a local joint you wouldn’t usually consider.  Prop yourself up against your bike in a field part way into the ride, and enjoy a little sun on your back while taking a break from the repetition of biking.  Grab a drink when you arrive.  Kick back on the beach, or just enjoy the company of good friends.  Wake up the following morning, and head right on back to where you began.  You won’t have to deal with traffic.  When you run into construction, you’ll often get the go-ahead in advance of the cars, and your route will definitely be more scenic than any major highway.  Be sure to check out your state’s bike routes, and also take advantage of www.mapmyride.com and other biking websites such as www.adventurecycling.com. Often times, members of maymyride.com will share their saved rides with other members.  This is a good way to scope out safer biking routes.  Definitely take advantage of friends who live in the area, and inquire as to which roads are “bikeable”, meaning which roads have a shoulder, are not so well traveled, and have good visibility, etc.  Whatever you do on a trip like this, have fun.  Don’t let the mileage get the best of you.  Remember, you’re on vacation.  All you have to do is bike! 

2. Head out for a weekend hike.  Again, pack up your gear and some food, lace up your hiking shoes, grab your map, and get out of dodge!  Oh, and don’t forget your tent!  You don’t need expensive equipment for a trip of this nature, just a good sense of adventure.  If you don’t know where to go hiking in your end of the woods, head out to a local outdoors shop and inquire from the staff where favorite hiking hotspots can be found.  Weekend hiking trips are cheap, fun, and exciting.  Plus, you’ll get to spend a night or two under the stars breathing in fresh air.  I suspect we could all use a little of that.  You’ll be one with nature.  There will be no checking in to your hotel room, dissatisfaction with the cleanliness of your sheets, or disgust with the restaurant service.  It’s just you and the outdoors.

3. Don’t like to bike or hike?  How about giving kayaking a try?  If you don’t own a kayak, this trip could be a little more expensive than the first two as you’ll have to rent one for a few days, but if you’re up for it, throw your camping gear into your kayak, and head down a stream.  Camp out 10-15 miles later.  Wake up, and continue on your way.  At the beginning on the trip you could drop off a car at the end of your destination so you have a shuttle back to your starting point.  Or, you could have someone pick you up.  Either way, enjoy your time on the water and don’t forget your insect repellent, sunblock, and life-jacket.  Oh, and a fishing rod wouldn’t hurt.  Again, a great way to enjoy the outdoors.  In PA there’s a rails to trails route called the Pine Creek Trail located between Jersey Shore and Wellsboro (location of the PA Grand Canyon).  The water that parallels this trail is supposed to be a lot of fun.  I’m hoping to kayak it myself later on this summer.  Will keep you posted. 

4. So, if you were hoping for something a little more low-key, weekend camping trips are fairly inexpensive, and a great way to spend quality time with family and friends.  I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t enjoy sitting by a campfire, kicking back, laughing, telling funny stories, roasting marshmallows, and eating S’mores and mountain pies. You could venture to a less “rustic” campground such as a KOA with individual showers, a pool for guests, and refined tent sites, or a more remote spot in your favorite State Park, on a public beach, in a mountain valley, or even in your own backyard.  That’s right: if you can’t get away, I say bring your vacation to your backyard.  Again, to me, vacation is simply a break from your norm.  I remember how cool it was for me as a kid to camp out in my backyard during the summer months.  My parents would start a fire.  We’d roast marshmallows, catch lightening bugs, and fall asleep right under the stars.  We could always come inside if roughing it wasn’t in the cards that night.                 

5. Take a road trip.  Now, this isn’t as eco-friendly as riding your bike to the beach, a friend’s house, or some historic site, but there are a lot of cool places to see here in America, many of which just might be only a short distance from your house via car.  Whether you head to an amusement park, a National Park, or a big city, a road trip is a great way to spend time with family and friends.  You can talk and play games in the car, stop places along the way, and take the back roads if you wish.  If you head out for a multi-day trip, you can camp, stay in hotels, stay with friends and/or family, or do a combination of all three.  Some of my favorite east coast road trip destinations include Hershey Park, and Dorney Park in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, NYC, Ocean City, NJ, Virginia Beach, Williamsburg, VA, Busch Gardens, Water Country USA, and Lancaster, PA.

6. Take a train ride.  Spend two days riding a train to Disney.  Then, hit up all the amusements.  The train ride will serve as a vacation in and of itself.

7. Take a weekend cruise.  These days you can find deals on cruises left and right. 

8. Host a family gathering at an amusement park, or campground.  Get the gang together for the weekend.  Play cards, listen to stories, ride rides, go kayaking, sit around a campfire, and just enjoy the company of one another.

9. Host a BBQ at your place…or a pool party if you’ve got one!  Of course, this is only a vacation for those who like to play host, but sometimes just doing something a little different than normal feels like a vacation.  And you can always make it potluck!

10. Adventure on your own local winery tour and tasting.  Grab your friends, a big van, and a designated driver, and find your new favorite wine.

11. Head back to your alma mater for the weekend.  Live it up like the old days

12. If you live close enough, take a train into NYC, or a bus to Philadelphia, or whatever city you’re near, and get dinner, check out a show, take a walking tour of town, and even stay overnight if the urge is there.

13. Go to Grandma’s house for the day!

14. Take a hike along a section of the AT closest to you.  Pack a picnic lunch.  The AT isn’t in your end of the woods?  Pick another spot.  Mount Nittany in Lemont, PA is a fun hour hike.  Shingletown Gap in Boalsburg, PA is just slightly longer.  I always enjoy hiking up a mountain, breaking at the top for lunch, then moseying back down.

15. Go to the pool for a day.  Find a swimming hole.  Take a dip.  Find some old inner tubes (from tractor wheels!) and float down a stream.  Poe Paddy outside State College is a great spot for a float!  Bring a few hoagies, a bag of chips and a half dozen Cokes.  Just relax and enjoy the day.

16. Register for a 5K, 10K, half marathon, marathon, triathlon, bike ride, whatever.  Make a weekend get-away out of it.  Explore the area.  Meet fellow runners.  Beat your PR.

17. Rent an RV, and take a tour of our country’s National Parks: Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Yosemite, Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, and Glacier.  Check out the Hoover Dam, Arlington, Williamsburg, Yorktown, and whatever other American historical, archeological, or natural sites you run across.  Take in the buffalo, the moose, the deer, and the mountains.  Get lost in the history and beauty of our country.     

18. Participate in a charitable event: the Breast Cancer 3-day, the MS 150, or Walk for Life. 

19. Sign up for a bike tour.  A number of states have these.  My younger sister and I participated in RAGBRAI 2 years back.  This is a week-long ride across Iowa.  A big tractor-trailer carries your gear, and dumps it in tent-city each night.  You get to tour the state, meet fellow bikers and local folks, eat great food, and camp out for a week.  You don’t have to be a biking wizard to participate in most of these bike tours.  You just have to have a good sense of adventure and a strong will to accomplish something bigger than you.

20. Just stay home.  Turn off your cell phone.  Avoid the internet at all costs.  Grab a good book, and enjoy a little R&R…in the sun and the silence

Whatever you do, enjoy the summer.  Before you know it, it will be gone.

That’s a wrap.        

Recently, I was asked to write an article for Town & Gown about Leaving Virginia, my bike ride across America, and Jeremy's upcoming April and August memorial races.  To read the article, please visit Town & Gown's website or check out the direct link to the article here:  http://www.townandgown.com/2011/04/remembering-jeremy/ 

 

Hi Readers,

A new post is in the making.  Stay tuned.  Now that the wedding is over, and life has settled down a tad (I don't want to jinx myself!!!), I'll be back to posting regularly.

I apologize for my absence!!!

Jennifer

Friday, November 12, 2010

Things have been crazy busy as of late.  The wedding is right around the corner.  We're half-way through the semester, and I'm counting down the days before my upcoming vacation.  With everything that needs to be done between none and then, if I had my way, I’d add a few extra hours to each day.  Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed! 

Oh well, what does this bride-to-be expect?!  If these are the least of my worries, I should relax!  Enough of the whining!!! 

I can handle busy.  I can even handle hectic.  And I can handle sad.  But it takes a lot to handle all of these emotions/states of being at once.  Yes, I think we all get overwhelmed every once in awhile…no matter how petty our stressors might seem.   And at this moment, I, indeed, am overwhelmed…even if it isn’t warranted. 

I think we all like time to fly at just the right moments: when we’re in a meeting, while we’re at work, when we’re in an extremely awkward situation, or when something terrible happens and life seems downright miserable.  But generally speaking I don’t think any of us wants to watch life pass us by.  We want time to last forever, and the most important moments in our lives to never pass.  We want time to travel slowly.  We don’t want to wake up and find ourselves to be ninety years old, reflecting back on what “could have been”.      

With that said, life as of late has been a bit sad.  As the days pass, and my wedding day approaches closer and closer in the near future, I regretfully recognize that each day past is one I'll never have again.  Each experience had is how it will be remembered, told, and recited as a piece of my history.  Each day lived becomes our past.  For instance, my Mom's fifty-fifth birthday was just a few days back.  It was a miserable birthday for her.  My younger sister’s cat unexpectedly died that day, just a few weeks after our family's dog, Lizzie, passed.  This amongst a number of other personal matters didn’t make the day her best.  Yet, it was her fifty-fifth birthday: double nickels.  It should have been special. 

Jeremy’s birthday was just four days prior to my Mom’s, marking four of his birthdays that we’ve celebrated without him here on this earth.  We hiked and biked the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon located outside of Wellsboro in his memory, witnessed the first snowfall of the season while looking out into the canyon’s deep ravine, and watched Joe Paterno win his four-hundredth football game while eating great food at a rustic rural bar.  Jeremy always wanted to kayak the waters that parallel the Pine Creek Trail found deep within this beautiful canyon.  He never got a chance to do this so we figured we’d visit the spot for him, because he can’t.  It was too cold to kayak, so hiking and biking had to suffice.  Autumn, college football, snow, and the outdoors were pieces of Jeremy’s favorite pastimes.  It would have been a good birthday for him had he been here.   

As each day passes, life changes more than I’d like.  Last time I went back home to my parent’s house in Bellefonte, Lizzie wasn’t there.  The house just didn’t feel the same.  Call me silly, but dogs truly are man’s best friend.  While I ate dinner, no one begged me for food.  No one came up to me while I was sitting on the baseboard heating vent trying to stay warm begging for me to rub her rear or hold her hand.  It was sad.  Lizzie loved to be touched.  She loved being a part of our family.  Certainly, she’s a dog who will forever be missed.   

Planning for my wedding hasn’t been all that hard.  It’s been a piece of cake if you’d really like to know the truth.  Brad and I have an awesome wedding planner, and we’re simple people so there hasn’t been all too much excitement or drama.   Am I missing out on one of life’s great experiences?  After all, this is the one and only wedding I’m intending to have.  I don’t want to blink and realize it’s all over. 

I remember being a kid and thinking, ‘I’ll have 25 years before I’m thirty. That’s a long time!’  Well it wasn’t.  I blinked and time brought me just about here.     

As we pass through life’s milestones, I’m learning it’s important to realize that life doesn’t stop.  We can’t dwell on how fast life flies by.  I guess we can, but really, there’s not a thing we can do to make it stop.  All we can do is live, and treasure the memories we have here today. 

Yes, my wedding will soon become my past, another marker to add to my list. As the second hand ticks, this day too will come and go.  All that will remain is what will be filed away deep within my brain.

On a much lighter note: my next upcoming book-signing will be held at the State College Barnes & Noble from 1-4pm on Sunday, December 19!  Come out and check out Leaving Virginia.    

       

October 21, 2010

This past Saturday my fiancé, Brad, and I each completed our first 50 mile ultramarathon.  I’d been looking forward to running this event for years when I finally dashed across that glorious finish line.  (By then, I suspect I was waddling, but we can keep that between you and me!). 

My siblings and I used to participate in the TusseyMountainback with friends as part of a relay team.  This event, held every October for 11 years now, is a 50 mile loop through Rothrock State Forest located in State College, Pennsylvania.  Participants can run the event individually as an ultramarathon or as part of a relay team.  Teams can consist of 2-8 people.  There are 12 legs to the race ranging in distance from slightly shy of 3 miles to a 10K.  Participant #1 runs leg 1, then passes off a snap-bracelet to participant #2 at a transition zone where participant #2 begins the second leg of the course.  This handoff of the snap-bracelet between runners at transition zones continues until all legs of the course are run.  Depending upon the size of one’s team, some participants will run multiple legs whereas others might run just one.  But don’t be led astray, this is a difficult course no matter what distance one runs.  Still, some are drawn to run it alone.  I, for one, was always overly inspired, year after year, when witnessing the ultras each complete their own individual 50 mile feat. 

As a relay participate my team and I always had a great time at this event, running through Rothrock State Forest, passing off our snap-bracelet “baton” to the next person running at each transition zone, playing our music exceptionally loud, eating cookies, and sipping on Gatorade while cruising slowly in our support vehicle from transition zone to transition zone, dropping off runners intermittently along those windy, gravel roads.  We’d cheer our loudest for the ultras while waiting for our turn to run, and I’d act a little silly on the last leg of the course, congratulating the ultras as I past them by, telling them how inspirational they were to me, and how incredible it was that they would be finishing 50 miles through the woods, 50 miles that weren’t flat, that increased in elevation something like 6000 feet throughout the span of the race…50 miles of running!  “You’re going to make it!!!  Today you’re running an ultra!!! YOU are beyond awesome!!!”  I’d scream and smile trying to encourage these folks to continue on.  People need motivation.  People need support no matter how crazy you look when giving it out.    

On Saturday, finally, I was the one running the ultra.  I was the one listening to the relay teams say, “way to go, ultra”, “almost there, ultra”, “looking strong, ultra”.  It was the most incredible feeling in the world. 

At the start of the race around 7am the sun hadn’t yet completely made its way out of bed.  The air was cool ─ somewhere around 40 degrees Fahrenheit ─ and my nerves felt as if they might just jump right out of my skin.  It was a strange feeling when the starting gun went off and, I, along with the majority of the other ultra participants, jogged off into the woods.  In front of me stood a massive mountain I was about to climb, a mountain covered in the most beautiful leaves painted all sorts of colors.  Fall presented us with its best this year.  The scenery couldn’t have been any more spectacular. 

My emotions took over me for a second.  I was beginning my first ultramarathon.  Brad was running beside me and I was grateful for this, but I wished for my older brother to be by my side.  I always had plans for us that we’d run this race together.  First, we were to try it as a supra or maybe even a three person team.  Then, the following year we’d do the ultra.  I always made plans for Jeremy when it came to running.  I’d register the both of us for races and he’d just go along with whatever I’d planned.  He fed my addiction well.  But the truth is I suspect I fed his also.  He was a person who lived for the thrill of life.  Just how far can you push the limit?  How far can we push our bodies?  When will our minds give up on the physical challenge?  Or will they ever? 

As my emotions took the best of me, just for a second, I took a look up into the sky, at the trees in front of me, and at the road leading the way up the first leg of the race.  It was 3.1 miles uphill.  It was Jeremy’s leg.  Just like that, an orange, crinkled leaf slowly fell to the ground landing just ahead of my stride.  Jeremy always ran just slightly ahead of me.  In that moment, I remembered Jeremy racing to the top of his leg as fast as he could, doing his best to start his team off well.  His inspiration turned my sadness into momentum.  That day I was going to run 50 miles through the woods for my brother, for his classmates, for his fellow students, and for all those who have gone before us.  They’d been through much worse than me ─ they’d already faced death.  All I needed to do was face a little physical exhaustion.  I could do this, and I would, in honor of Jeremy.

That Saturday was a beautiful day for me, but for so many others it would mark the worst or saddest day of their lives.  A 50 year old Bellefonte man ─ a father of 3, husband, and high school lacrosse coach ─ unexpectedly died a few days back.  That Saturday marked his funeral.  I always remembered this man as friendly, good natured, full of life with a smile covering his face.  I remember him watching his girls swim at the Bellefonte Family YMCA.  He was a proud father ─ a man I’m sure will forever be missed.  That day those girls, their brother and their mother would have to do the hardest thing ever ─ they’d have to lay their loved one to rest.  It wasn’t right. 

So I could run 50 miles.  It would be a piece of cake. 

This outlook kept me moving strong.  Brad and I ran the entire first 26 miles breaking only at the relay transition zones for water, Gatorade, snacks, and bathroom breaks.  We finished our first “marathon” in 4:03 despite breaking for about 15 minutes. 

After miles 26 we faced a huge hill which we both agreed to walk briskly. 

We stayed together throughout the course of the race. I’d begged Brad to run the race with me when a good friend of mine became injured, and wasn’t able to participate.  Although towards the end Brad faced some cramping and chafing issues, we stayed together and pushed each other along.  And while I slowly jogged up our first few hills he didn’t leave me behind in the dust.  That day, we were a team ─ the eternal optimist and the realist.  I’ll leave you guessing who is who!   

Around mile 32 Brad started to look a bit pale, and his eyes started to sink back into his head, but he pushed through, and by mile 40 he was looking much better.  We’d trained for this race so I knew we both could finish.  We’d put our time in.  It was just a matter of pushing our bodies past what our minds wanted to do, ignoring the pain, ignoring the repetition, and just trucking on. 

Around mile 35, I found myself pretty confident we were going to finish the race.  And by mile 41, I knew we had this challenge under our belts.  My excitement escalated, my adrenaline increased, and I felt as if I were on top of the world.  A sense of euphoria disguised my physical pain.   

The second to last leg of the race, leg #11, consists of an out and back section with the first mile being uphill, the second downhill, the third back up, and the fourth right back down.  Once we hit that final downhill grade on leg #11, I knew we were on the homestretch as the twelfth and final leg of the race literally is just about all downhill. 

Leg #12 consists of 3.5 miles downhill and a short half mile flat stretch into the finish.  That was it. That was all we had left.  I remember seeing so many Nittany Valley Running Club members as I crossed through the final transition zone leading to the beginning of leg #12.  One of my prior coworkers was a member of the “Avocados” relay team.  Her hair was dyed green, and she was cheering loudly while ringing a cow bell.  Following Theresa, I passed by my swimming instructor from back when I was a child participating in lessons at the Bellefonte Family YMCA.  The support of friends and family fed my desire to finish what I’d begun. 

Brad was slowing down, but I tried my best to pull him along.  I’ll be honest here ─ I wasn’t the best of motivational speakers by that point in time.  “Oh Brad, come on, you can do this, just suck it up, it’s going to hurt!” 

And so we ran, and we ran, and we ran, and eventually we crossed that finish line I’d been waiting years for.  Brad couldn’t have been any more thrilled to have crossed the finish line and been offered a beer.  The recovery phase of our training had officially commenced. 

In the moment I saw the finish line less than a half mile in front of me I looked back up at those trees I’d witnessed earlier in the day as the sun was trying to rise.  The colors were spectacular ─ shades of yellows, orange, reds, greens, with hints of pink and purple tones showered my visual field.  Jeremy wasn’t just watching; he was with me, running that race, pushing me along, heck, maybe even pulling me along.  Without him I couldn’t have made it.  Without his inspiration and his legacy it wouldn’t have been possible. 

And so a sense of sadness came about me.  I was so lucky to be the person I was that day.  As Joe called Brad and me, that day we were “ultra beasts”.  That day we had pushed our bodies to the limit.  We had tested the waters.  Still, it was sad. I had a cheering section in the heavens larger than I would have liked. Jeremy was there with our 4-H leaders, Shirley and Kathy, my YMCA swim team coach, Sharon, our Grandpa Meier, Great Aunt Delores, Mrs. Dolan (an elderly neighbor whom we used to play cards with), so many members of our Bellefonte and State College communities, of Virginia Tech, Penn State and so many others, with our cousin Nicole’s good friend and father-in-law, with his good friend’s Dad, and with so many more.  His world is so much larger than mine.  His world knows much more meaning than mine. 

With that, I took a deep breath, pressed my right hand into my chest and took in what I had. 

Death hurts.  It’s the most difficult fight I’ve ever fought.  It’s unbearable torture.  And I’d be so bold to call it a bitch. 

But that day ─ that Saturday in October ─ I was stronger than I gave myself credit for.  I was strong enough to take death to the track, and give her a good run for her money. 

And you are too.  We are stronger than we know. 

That run: it was the best run of my life.  I wouldn’t change a thing ─ not my place, not my time, not the fact that we walked up that very huge hill, or the other, or that we rested for nearly 5 minutes in between each of the 12 legs.  8 hours, 41 minutes and 20 seconds spent in the forest on a beautiful fall day pushing my body towards exhaustion changed my entire perspective on running, racing, and on life.

You have the strength to face anything in this life.  We’re not always going to like our life circumstances but we are strong enough to face them on our own terms, with dignity, honor, and power.

Step out of your comfort zone this week.  You might be surprised what you’re capable of.                                 

October 5, 2010

On September 22, 2010 an 18 year old talented violinist and Rutgers freshman, Tyler Clementi, committed suicide, just three days after his dorm roommate and another student allegedly made the conscious decision to secretively tape him engaging in an intimate sexual encounter.  Then, the two pushed the envelope even further.  They posted this tape on the web.    

I can’t fathom what would possess two young college students to violate another student’s privacy in such a vile fashion disregarding the consequences of their actions, the repercussions of the law, or most importantly the devastation this cruel and insensitive behavior could potentially have on the victim’s life. 

Nothing about what these two accused students did was funny.  It wasn’t kind.  I don’t care how impulsive 18 year old adolescents can be ─ these two students acted callously.  And even if the outcome of this particular case was different ─ and Tyler had not taken his own life ─ their actions still would be considered insensitive, ruthless, intolerable, detestable, and hateful in my opinion. 

Since when is it funny to make public a human being’s private life?  Since when is it okay to publicize over the internet video that was taken without another’s consent?  Since when is it justifiable to video tape someone without their knowledge or permission?  Where are our morals?  What has happened to our society?

May Tyler be remembered for the kind soul so many have described him as: a talented violinist who enjoyed helping others, who could juggle and ride a unicycle according to the words of Amy Ellis Nutt of The Star Ledger in her moving article, “Friends remember Tyler Clementi as brilliant musician, bright student” http://www.nj.com/news/index.ssf/2010/10/rutgers_student_tyler_clementi_1.html.

In the days and weeks that follow, I ask that we take a stand to fight for the dignity and respect of all life, regardless of race, color, creed, sex, gender, sexual orientation, age, socioeconomic status, intelligence or any other minuscule variable.  Each and every one of us deserves to be treated with respect and dignity.  No life should be robbed prematurely because of another’s selfish actions.

Please consider first the consequences of your actions before doing something, saying something, making some sort of foul facial expression, or whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.  We can’t be sure how our actions will affect another.  All we can be sure of is how we act, how we treat others, and how we expect others to treat us.  

I wish time could rewind and these students could walk a different path through this life ─ that Tyler could still be with us today.  But time won’t allow us to rewind.  So may this never, ever happen, ever again.   

September 28, 2010

So I read an interesting comment posted on Facebook earlier in the day today. This comment expressed an individual’s opinion on “parenting” vs. “having children”.  The writer became upset after noticing other parents neglected to take their children to football, soccer or baseball practice.  These children were enrolled in the activity at hand but the parent failed to stay for a game, or had a fellow “soccer mom/dad” bring their child to practice for them.

My opinion on this subject contrasts with the writer’s.  I’m curious of yours, and of your experiences being that I am not a parent. 

When I was a little girl I absolutely loved swim team; however, my parents had three other children and weren’t able to devote every Saturday during swim team season to sitting poolside to watch me swim for maybe a total of three minutes throughout the course of the entire day.  My Dad had a farm and he needed to care for the animals in addition to caring for Joe, Steph and Jeremy while my Mom worked weekends at the hospital to earn extra money for school shoes, tuition and whatever else. So another swim team mom would drive me to meets along with her own two children who both participated in the sport with me.  My parents weren’t incompetent parents because they weren’t able to take me to my own meets; they just had other more central responsibilities at the time.  Maybe if I were an only child they would have attended my meets, but then I would have been robbed of the opportunity to form invaluable relationships with my siblings.  I wouldn’t have ever wished for this. So my parents knew that I loved swim team, and they found a way to get me to my meets even if they could not be present in person all of the time.  Of course, they would do their best to attend whenever they could but this wasn’t as often as maybe either of us would have liked.  It wasn’t as if they had abandoned me each weekend.  They weren’t trying to get rid of me.  They weren’t spending their weekends off in Vegas while dumping their kids off on a friend.  They just couldn’t make it to my meets. It was as plain and simple as that.

Fortunately, I understood, and I didn’t take their absence to heart.       

So I’ll stop in my tracks right there!  That’s my rant for the day.  I’m sure some people could have made the same comment about my parents at the time ─ that they were neglectful of me ─ and maybe they did; I doubt it.  I’d like to think most people avoid placing judgment on another considering more often than not we’re not fully aware of another’s extenuating circumstances.

Still, being that we are all human, it’s difficult not to judge another’s actions or inactions especially when we might feel we’re doing a good job at whatever our role might be.  Parenting is just one example.      

If one day I choose to become a parent, all probability suggests I won’t be perfect either.  I’m sure I’ll try my best to make my kid’s life the best it can be, but I’m going to screw up.  It’s inevitable.  We all will, no matter what feat we attempt.  The reality is we’re human.    

I try to remember this when I see a kid running wild at the grocery store.  How the heck do I know what that parent went through earlier in that day?  I don’t.  So, how can I possibly judge this parent’s inability to “control their child”? 

I can’t.  And in my mind, it’s not my place to do so.     

I was talking with a friend of mine the other day about women in our society and our obsession with gossiping.  This friend of mine didn’t grow up in the States.  She couldn’t help but notice our society’s obsession with talking about others:  “You don’t have secrets.”  I thought about this for a second.  I know my circle of female friends and relatives loves to gossip….And my future husband too!  Heck, I might be the queen bee of all gossipers ─ nothing I’m proud of! Considering this, I know all too well how important it is to remember that until we walk in another’s shoes we don’t know how we’ll react to their specific circumstances.  Of course, when viewing the situation from the perspective of an outsider we might be able to say “this is what I’d do if I were you”….BUT is it really what we would do?  Is it actually how we would respond?  Most of us are pretty good at giving advice.  We know the “right” thing to do, but how often is the “right” response the one implemented?  I know for me it’s easier to give advice than to live it out.  This conversation with my good friend was an excellent reminder to me of how important it is to keep some things to myself.  If I promise to keep a secret, in most cases I ought to do just what I promised…keep it!    

In a society where we can’t stop talking about others ─ what she said, what she was wearing, what her husband did ─ I think it’s important to be reminded every once in awhile that not one of us is perfect.  We won’t know how we’ll respond to a situation or how we’ll feel when x happens until we are in that exact situation, and all likelihood suggests we’ll never be in that EXACT situation.

Just a little food for thought.

Switching gears… 

Yesterday I found myself running outside in a pool of flowing water flooding the roadways.  As I stomped through two to three inch puddles assembling to create streams of rapidly flowing water paralleling the brim of the road, the world around me paused in time.  In fact, for one hour, nineteen minutes, and seventeen seconds, as rain poured in buckets out of the sky and onto my head, and my arms and my legs, I smiled frozen in the moment.  Nothing around me seemed to matter.  As I ran faster and faster I didn’t even notice my breath.  The sound of the rain hitting the ground muffled all my concerns.  My thoughts turned to silence. The fact that I invited over 350 guests to my wedding knowing that it’s going to be a tight squeeze to fit 300 people into the reception hall, I no longer cared.  Oh heck, we’d rent a tent if that’s what it came to. The fact that I still hadn’t made up the exam for my evening class scheduled for that same exact day didn’t faze me one bit!  All I cared about was the fact that I was running my weary body through the pouring rain ─ the beautiful, implausible, falling rain. 

Rain does a good job of washing away all sorts of debris.  A good downpour will clean just about anything off of your car!  (Don’t tell Brad I spoke such words! He’s always sure to give our cars a good clean at least twice a year.)  And it will sure wash away any tears one might have no matter how big or excessive they might ever be.  Yesterday, rain washed white paint off my face.  And it washed away the fact that my shoulder hurt from painting our garage a day earlier when I was miserable about painting the garage.  Why the heck does a garage need a paint job anyway!?  That’s how I felt.  I was wrong.  A white wash turns even a garage upside down.  That pouring rain took two coats of mascara off of my lashes, and it sure as heck returned my soiled shoes back to the very white hue they displayed when I took them out of their fresh box a few months back. 

Rain doesn’t just wash debris away.  It reminds me that there’s something else out there, something far bigger than me.  I can’t tell you what it is about the rain that gives me this insight, it just is.  The fact that rain can fall from the sky really is something.    

We live in a crazy world, one where very bad things happen, and good things too. One where just over the weekend another college-aged student opened fire onto a campus, and then killed himself.  One where tsunamis killed thousands and devastated millions in Pakistan just a few weeks back.  Sadly, nature and humans alike certainly are capable of very terrible acts.  But just the same, we have the potential to do so much good.  In a world with such sadness this cannot be forgotten.

With all of the chaos and adversity this world might bring to the table, strangely enough it seems the craziest part of our existence is the fact that we do indeed exist.  To think that here we are roaming around, dressing ourselves in fashionable clothes, driving around in luxury cars, going to work day after day, getting caught up in the mundane activities of our daily lives ─ that soccer game, that aerobics class, dinner with friends, the fact that your neighbor never seems to watch any of her kids football practices no matter the day or time ─ here we are existing without a clue as to how we even got here!  That’s pure madness! 

Sure some of us have our beliefs and suspicions as to how we came about, but considering how intricate our bodies are, how complex our thought processes and ideas can be, it’s crazy to think we still don’t have a definitive answer as to what our precise purpose in being here is.  It’s not just crazy, it’s spectacular. 

So, let the rain fall.  Let it drench my body as I run, wash my tears away, and remind me of my humanity, my humility and my place in this world ─ a 29 year old woman just trying to get by, trying to make a difference in just one life, trying to inspire just one soul to continue on. 

Rain is a wonder!  Go out and run in it, stomp in its splendor, laugh in its darkness.  It just might change you outlook on life!

Two weeks back my dear friends and Mom put on a bridal shower and bachelorette party for me back home in Bellefonte.  It was a lot of fun.  Of course, completely, embarrassing, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a good time.  It was nice to catch up with family and see old friends.  My cousins Nate, Katie, and Jason came out for the bachelorette party.  Jason told me my bachelorette party was the best he’d ever attended (of course, it was the only one he had ever been to).  It was really nice to see these guys as it’s been awhile.  Nate has been stationed in South Korea with the military for the past three years, and Jason just recently returned from a tour in Afghanistan.  He’s stationed out of Germany so we don’t get to see him all too often.  Last time I hung out with Jason in downtown State College was something like seven years ago!  His sister, Katie, was just starting graduate school at Penn State then.  Now, she’s just about done.  Jeremy and I had just graduated from Penn State and we both were well on our way to discovering the realities of early adulthood.  I vividly remember telling Katie 5-7 years would fly by “like that”.  How right I was!  Life passes us by far quicker than we know. 

If only we could freeze time and remain in some of our better life moments forever in time.  I suspect life wasn’t meant to work out like that.

Regardless, it was incredibly nice to catch up with my incredible cousins.  And then the following day, I was able to spend time with a handful of my other relatives all of whom I hadn’t seen in a very long time.  It was a really nice weekend, one I’m very grateful for.  My Mom, neighbor Elda, friends and bridesmaids did an awesome job putting together such a set of events.  Thank you guys for all your hard work!  I’m beyond fortunate to have you in my life. 

At the shower I got to see both Jonathan and Natalie.  Jonathan is the son of my friend Kim, and Natalie the daughter of Brad’s sister-in-law.  The two share a birthday and are now both three months old.  Natalie is getting her first few teeth already, and Jonathan is starting to make some of the most adorable noises.  Their mom’s both seem to be settling in to life with new little ones quite well.

As the fall continues on, I’m trying to savor the moments I’m given.  It doesn’t seem like all that long ago Kim called me to inform me of Jonathan’s early arrival.  Nor does it seem like long ago I was opening gifts at my shower.  When I was a little kid the school year seemed to be never-ending.   Now, a semester is like the blink of an eye.  Before I know it I suspect I’ll be plucking gray hairs from my head. 

Pause, just for a moment.  Stop. Come to a halt.  Let me look around and just take in what I’ve got! 

On one final note, my childhood dog, Lizzie, is not faring well.  We’re not sure of her exact age but I suspect she’s somewhere around 14 years old.  She was diagnosed with cancer over a year ago, and just recently seemed to take a turn for the worse.  She’s super resilient and seems to be doing better today after eating some birthday cake and a sloppy joeJ but I suspect her time here might be running out.  My next note will be on our dear Lizzie and her impact on my life.  Whenever my world seemed to crumble all around me, Lizzie was always there.  Dogs are like that.  I hope for Lizzie that she knows how much she too is loved.       

September 14, 2010

Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the fair of all fairs ─ the Grange Encampment and Fair ─ this year.

If you’re not familiar with this 10 day annual event, where practically all of Centre County camps out, eats well, and mingles amongst friends, you’re missing out if you don’t, but just once, check it out: http://www.grangefair.net/.

I suspect my lack of motivation to enter through Gate C resulted from the plain and simple fact that the fair, albeit great, plainly isn’t the same place today as it was for me many moons ago.  As a child I wouldn’t have missed the fair for anything ─ Not for cross country practice, a piano recital or even the first day of school.  (And yes, that was a legitimate excuse for missing school way back when…) 

I remember moving our lambs into the sheep barns at the fair, preparing them for the “Open Show” on Monday, and then for the “4-H show” Wednesday morning.  Tuesday evening we’d participate in the “Fitting and Showmanship Contest” where we were given one hour and a 10 minute soda break to clean up a wild sheep, sheer it by hand, and prepare it for show.  Thereafter, we’d demonstrate our showmanship skills by attempting to keep the animal calm while setting its legs up in the perfect position, displaying the animal’s best qualities, for the judge’s view.  Wednesday night was the auction where we would each sell two of our lambs in hopes of bringing home a profit, and Thursday was the parade where we’d do silly things like wash our hair in buckets atop our club float using a lanolin based shampoo to show off some of our lamb’s, often forgotten, uses (the lanolin comes from the wool). 

We were children that week, free to run around the fair at our leisure, checking into the barn only periodically throughout the days.  We were each given an allowance of something like $20 for the week to spend on one dollar foot long hotdogs and similar sized meatball subs, twenty-five cent sodas, two dollar malt milkshakes from Sunset West Ice Cream, and anything else our taste buds desired.  We’d sit up in the lofts of our barn slurping on our milk shakes while our feet dangled into our sheep’s pens below.  We’d each display proud grins as guests walked through our barn listening to our “lectures” on the “sheep business”.  We’d discuss the differences between different breeds of sheep, which grew a higher quality of wool, which made for better lamb chops, amongst a variety of other “interesting” facts.  We’d sheer our sheep in the middle of our barn’s long hallway, showing off our skill with both the electric and hand clippers, wash our lambs repetitively, and talk amongst friends.  Oftentimes, we would spend the entire day within the confines of that sheep barn ─ and in doing so, we had a blast.  We weren’t interested in going out and talking to boys or hanging out at the arcade with friends.  We got enough pleasure out of tending to our animals.  4-H honestly was probably one of the best activities my parents could have put me and my younger siblings in.  It taught us a lot about life, hard work, and respect.  

Now, it seems, I’m too old to show sheep.  My time has passed.  Going to the fair is mostly a social event for adults in our community to catch up with old friends, eat a ton of great tasting, often not-so-good-for-you, food, and watch people pass by.  It brings back an assortment of certainly good memories, but tragically these are often more painful to re-live than even the bad. The good memories remind me of what could have been.  Possibly one day my adult siblings and I could have placed our own kids in 4-H, and gone on together to watch our own children show sheep at the fair.  Possibly, we’d still run around the fair just as we did years ago when the night became late had life not taken the course which is has.  We’d eat pulled pork sandwiches while sitting around outside of our neighbor’s tent.  Sadly, these days just cannot be.

So in consideration of these thoughts, I didn’t make it to the fair this year.  Possibly, a year from now I’ll slurp down a peanut butter flavored shake while watching a sheep show amongst family and friends.  Possibly, the same feelings will return as kept me from entering those gates this year.  Only time will tell.  For now, I’ll reminisce on the past.   

Instead of attending the fair, Brad and I served as the caterers for the baptism recital for Jonathan, the two month old son of our friend’s, Kim and Steve.  My Mom and Dad, Joe, Steph, and Sam were our “laborers”.  Joe served as “King of the Grill” after the rest of us failed at our attempts to make something like 100 perfectly round pancakes.  My Dad ran errands while Steph and Sam decorated, and set up the food in a buffet style line.  The event turned out nicely, and as usual, I insisted on preparing entirely too much food.  We probably had enough leftovers to feed all of the guests I’m inviting to my wedding.  This is no joke!  Brad ate left-over pasta salad for a week.  Of course, he didn’t complain!  He’d eat pasta salad every day of the week if it were available.

Switching gears…      

As the seasons change once again now from summer to fall, I’m reminded so much of the absence of my brother, Jeremy.  Autumn has always been my favorite time of year.  It’s the best time to run.  The weather couldn’t be any more agreeable.  The scenery is beautiful as the leaves begin to change colors, and fall to the ground.  Multitudes of running races are scheduled each weekend.  Football season is in full bloom.  And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t live for tailgates, hearty fall foods, and an excuse to run around in a pair of faded jeans and an oversized blue and white sweatshirt.  It could be fall all year round if I had my way!  But then again, maybe it wouldn’t be as special as it is now. 

Regardless, the absence of Jeremy this year amidst the wonders of the fall has truly sunk my spirits.  And I suspect, this is one of the reasons I avoided the fair ─ yet another reminder of what could have been. 

This year fall has reminded me of death’s role in my life.  She certainly hasn’t shied away from my side…As if that should be a surprise.  We’re all haunted by the footsteps of death…all trying to run faster than her stride. 

This year the fall has brought with it a dark sense of sadness I’m hoping to discard. 

In the 11^th grade, my swim team coach passed away.  I remember it to be spring…although, I could be wrong.  I looked up to her probably more than she knew.  When I was in the sixth grade, anorexic, and knocking on death’s doorstep, she wrote me one of the most genuine, honest, letters I’ve ever read.  I still have it today.  She wouldn’t let me participate in swim team practice until I got better.  Even so, I couldn’t be mad at her because I knew she truly cared about me.  And I wanted to be just like her.  So when she committed suicide I was at a terrible loss.  I wished I had told her how important she was to me.  I wished she wasn’t so sick ─ that she knew she was loved by her family and friends, and would be terribly missed.  I worried incessantly for her place in eternity.  I chose the patroness of mental illness as my confirmation name in memory of her: Dympna. 

Even before my swim team coach passed, our 4-H leaders, Shirley and Harold, lost their son, David, in a tragic automobile accident.  I was horrified.  As a young person, I couldn’t image their family’s pain.  We always looked up to David as he was older than us, an expert showman and skilled sheerer.  He was just starting out in life, recently married with two young children.  His death was tragic.

Strange how to this date I still remember standing in line during the viewing, waiting to greet the families of David and Sharon.  Tragedies like these never stray far from us.      

A few years after my swim team coach died, David’s mom, Shirley, passed as well.  The culprit this time was ovarian cancer.  Ironic I suspect that this month is national ovarian cancer awareness month.  Shirley was a sweet soul, always curious of the events of our busy lives.  She was like family to me.  Heck, the entire sheep club was like family to me.  When Shirley died I just couldn’t believe it.  She seemed healthy and alive the last time we talked.  I was saddened; my heart broke for her husband, remaining living children, and for the community.  We lost a very dear soul the day God took her back.  But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t offered a scrap of relief from my sorrow in knowing she was finally at peace with her son.  Back then, my faith was strong.    

My grandfather passed one year and one week prior to Jeremy.  God rest his soul.  And not long after Jeremy died, our second 4-H leader Kathy Zimmerman died unexpectedly also.  So many lives taken at such early, ripe ages ─ it breaks my heart to consider such sadness. 

I suspect after so many losses, life at the fair as a prior member of the Centre County 4-H Sheep Club might never be the same.  Shirley and Kathy were both wonderful people.  Neither came from a lot, but they knew what was important in this life.  I remember our club used to put on a food sale during the Penn State Ram Sale at the Ag Arena on campus.  All of the 4-H kids would sell ice cream, home-made pie, lamb BBQ, and sloppy joes prepared by our leaders.  Shirley, Kathy and our parents would moderate our sale tactics, count the funds in the money box periodically throughout the day, but mostly just sit back in a corner and catch up with one another while intermittently checking in on the meat and cleaning up after us kids.  As the day came to a close, we’d all get a sandwich for helping out. It was the best BBQ I’ve ever had.  Possibly I just remember it was such because of the significant roles these women played in my life.  They taught me the value of hard work, the importance of respect, good morals, and character.      

During the fair, those two ladies would sit in the dairy or beef barns “grading” our project books year after year.  I remember it was always my family and our friends who were late to turn in our books.  We weren’t always the best at keeping up with our “record”.  We were to record when vaccinations were given to our lambs, how much was spent on feed, hay, supplies, etc.  No matter how simple this project actually was, we dreaded it.  It just wasn’t as fun as our other 4-H activities.  You see, we were much better at setting up booby traps in the lofts of the sheep barns for our guests to walk inadvertently through.  Or “walking” our sheep attached by a halter to a moving lawn mower (yes, we were ridiculous, and no, we didn’t go fast, it’s a lawn mower for goodness sake!  No sheep were ever injured during this experiment!).  And we were much better at packing for 4-H camp and for the fair than sitting down to fill out a “boring” book.  But somehow Shirley and Kathy always pushed us to turn in our project, completed in good form.    

I’ve got to hope the two are together now in a better place accompanied by family and friends. 

It can be depressing to reflect back on life now, in the present moment, and think of how wonderful life was at the time I was a 4-H’er running around dressed in overalls with barrettes falling out of my hair.  It’s easy to wish time would have frozen way back then.  But it didn’t.  And it never will.  Time keeps on ticking no matter where we are in our journey through life.  I suspect this disclaimer should have been printed in small ink for our view just prior to exiting the birth canal.  Yet even if it were, I’m certain I still would have slid on out loudly with an enthusiastic cry. Oh what the heck!  Why not give it a shot? 

In almost exactly one month I’ll be running fifty miles through the Rothrock State Forest.  I’m permitted 12 hours to complete this task, although I hope it takes me far less time.  I’m looking at this adventure as an all day hike.  An experienced “Mountainbacker” suggested this wise idea to me.  What better way to spend a Saturday in October than by traveling through a forest filled with life?  Some might think I’ve lost my mind, but in considering all who no longer have the opportunity to just go outside for a walk around the block, I figure why not give running/walking/shuffling/crawling fifty miles a chance.  Oh what the heck!  What’s the worst that could happen? 

Please don’t answer that rhetorical question!

I challenge all of you to reflect for just a minute on the people who have left a mark on your life.  Maybe they are still with us today, maybe not.  How have they helped to shape you into the person you are today?  I’ve only mentioned a few great souls who have touched my life.  There are so many more.  My great Aunt Delores, Mrs. Dolan, my 3 grandparents still alive today.  Make these people proud.  Your journey through life means more to them than meets the eye.    

One final note…   

Leaving Virginia book-signing #4: October 23 from 1-3pm at the Dubois Public LibraryJ   My illustrator, Sara E. Smith, and I will be there to promote our upcoming children’s series as well!!!   Come out for food, coffee and company.   

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

The fourth annual Herbie’s Hometown Loop held on Saturday, August 14 at the Bellefonte Area Middle School turned out to be a great success!  Approximately 200 runners and 25 bikers came out in support of our family to remember Jeremy, race, ride and raise money for a track for the Bellefonte community, and also to fund an annual scholarship awarded to a Bellefonte Area High School senior each spring.  The weather was pleasant as I recall ─ not too hot, certainly not too cool, with just a touch of humidity. 

The “Are You Hungry String Band” played an assortment of music while runners and bikers finished both events.  Thank you to Sara E. Smith, her brother Jared, Joe, and “the band” for donating your time!   

A ton of prizes were given out to lucky participants including two jackets, a half dozen water bottles and an equal quantity of $60 tune-ups compliments of Freeze Thaw Cycles (our bike race sponsor), a mountain bike donated by The Bicycle Shop, a $100 gift certificate to The Queen Anne Bed and Breakfast located in Victorian Bellefonte, 32 trees (each memorializing one of the 2007 April 16 Virginia Tech victims), a tea basket from Webster’s Bookstore Cafe, two hand-made afghans woven by Pat Mott (one designed with Virginia Tech colors, the other with Penn State colors), a bird house from Tractor Supply, a $50 gift card to Tractor Supply, a gift card to Triangle in Bellefonte, a $40 gift card to Wegman’s, numerous coupons for free Burger King Whoppers and buy one get one at McDonald's, sunglasses from Dr. Candace Covey, a basket from Woodring’s, and I could continue on!!!  Thank you to all of our very generous race sponsors. 

Irving’s Bagels in State College donated bagels, Perkins donated mini-muffins, Pizza Mia and Home Delivery provided us with pizzas, Lykens donated hoagies, Pizza Hut and Your Building Center donated ice, wings came from Bonfatto’s...there were cookies from Eat n’ Park and fruit compliments of Weis markets, and Harner’s Farms. 

No major accidents occurred.  Other than for a few unexpected electrical problems and minor miscommunications that are always a given, the day progressed rather smoothly. 

It’s hard to believe that this is the fourth year we’ve put on this event.  It seems like just yesterday we were throwing around ideas in the kitchen of my parent’s house about what kind of event to put on in an attempt to escape from the reality of Jeremy’s murder.  And it still seems like not far ago in the distant past that we were sitting in the seats of the Bellefonte Area Middle School brainstorming ideas around the chalkboard.  In retrospect it might have appeared to an outsider as if we were planning a wedding, or even a shower, in those heated quarters, but really we were just trying to give Jeremy “his day”.    

Four years later, all of those people who helped us begin this event: they’re still there ─ on race day, before the race helping us to prepare for the event, and long after the stage built by my Dad and Joe (for the band) is taken down.  Words will never be enough to thank all of you for your kindness, generosity, commitment, and compassion. 

Once again, Delgrosso’s donated enough pasta, sauce, and meatballs to feed 250 people at our pre-race pasta dinner held at St. John’s Catholic School Cafeteria in Bellefonte on Friday, August 13.  Along with this, they donated aprons for our chefs, and table settings for our guests.  My Dad and I drove up to Tipton to pick up the supplies Friday morning.  Upon our arrival we had the pleasure of meeting with Joey Delgrosso, one of the owners of this family company.  I’ve got to say, I’ve never met a more genuine, honest, down to earth, hard working, good guy.  Joey shared an assortment of stories with me and my Dad.  He comes from a long line of people who truly enjoy helping others out…who yearn to share with those less fortunate than themselves, who live for bringing happiness to another’s eyes.  Back some 40 years ago, Joey’s Dad used to bring a truck full of fruit to a local orphanage on Christmas morning.  Joey accompanied.  And on Easter, he’d haul in a truck filled to the brim with candy and chocolates.  Once a year, Mr. Delgrosso would open up the family’s amusement park to these youngsters allowing them to ride all the rides they so desired, eat all the food they could fill their bellies with, run around with full rein of the park, absolutely free of charge to them and their caregivers.  So, it doesn’t surprise me one bit that Joey donates as much as he does to the community, including to our family for Jeremy’s race.  And it certainly doesn’t surprise me that Joey’s children want to do something more in this life than just work for the weekend.  I learned through our discussion that his son has decided to join the Peace Corps.  Truly, this is an exceptional family.  I’m honored to have shared a few minutes with Joey Delgrosso that pleasant Friday the thirteenthJ   

Switching gears a little…Baker and Taylor (a book wholesaler) has agreed to take on Leaving Virginia.  This allows Barnes and Noble to begin stocking my title!  Very exciting news if you ask me. 

After Jeremy’s race, I spoke with a number of people who have finished my book, many who are halfway through, and a ton just beginning the journey “across”.  I was taken aback by the words spoken by these individuals.  Of course, not everyone will appreciate the book, but it was nice to hear of people gaining something from my words and experience.  These conversations make publishing Leaving Virginia seem completely worthwhile.  Sharing my experience, with the hope of helping another through a rough time, truly is what this is all about.

So, Stephanie (my younger sister) won the woman’s 4 mile race that Saturday morning, and her boyfriend won the men’s event.  I had to laugh.  Steph ought to be proud…she won her brother’s race.  Congrats to both Sam and Steph. 

To all our race volunteers: Nancy and Dick Dixon, Wanda Adams, the Forstmeier family, and all the cross country “kids”, Cathy Manchester, Alyssa Gaebel, Amanda and Elda Mulfinger, Mrs. Mason and her son Mike, Kim Gasper (our race director), Greg Fredericks, Dave (our race timer), Mike Casper (our photographer), the Knights of Columbus, the Meier family, the Trusedales, and to all those who donated their time….THANK YOU!!!!

Now for some laughs…     

Ultra marathon training is in full bloom for me.  I’m trying my best to whip myself into shape by Oct. 16, 2010…that’s the big day.  Hopefully, I’ll be prepared to “shuffle” 50 miles through Rothrock State Forest by then.  Time will tellJ  I’ve recruited Brad to join forces with me.  He might well be more into this training regimen than I am…crazy as that might sound!

And all of this ultra training just might be getting the best of me.  That or all the chaos encompassing my mind between wedding planning, just thinking about school beginning again for the year, Jeremy’s race, and god only knows what else!  You see, yesterday evening I was preparing dinner…The turkey burgers were done but I wanted to melt some swiss cheese on top of them.  So, I placed the cheese on top of the burgers, turned the burner down to low, and placed a lid on top of the frying pan.  A few minutes later I took the lid off of the pan and found my oven mitt (hot pad) inside the frying pan on top of the burgers!  Now, how in the world did I end up putting my oven mitt inside of the frying pan???  I haven’t even the slightest idea.  What I do know is that a second or so later I discovered I’d left my cup of water sit filling up at the refrigerator a touch too long.  I have this routine where I fill my glass up with ice and then position it at the refrigerator’s water station so that it fills up with water on its own.  I haven’t forgotten about it filling up before…but this time the glass overflowed so much that there was water running down the refrigerator door soaking the carpet below.  Where on earth has my mind gone???

Fall is just around the corner!  And I can’t wait.  I hate saying this because I’m not one to wish time to move forward any faster.  Still, I absolutely love the view of the leaves changing colors and falling off the trees, the smell of the air in the mornings and its temperature, the lack of humidity, and the idea that so many great holidays and family gatherings are right around the corner.  And, of course, for all you central Pennsylvania locals: it’s Grange Fair time…time to move all of your earthly possessions into your tent at the fair where you will live for the next 10 or so days, visiting with friends, eating foot-long hotdogs, deep fried Oreo cookies, and sipping on freshly squeezed orangeade!  How I love fall!

To all my 4-H Sheep Club families (and 4-H’ers in general): best of luck to all of you this year at the fair.  Most of all, have fun!!!    

Wishing all of you returning to school this week, and in the upcoming weeks, a pleasant return to your formal education, and warm reunions with friends and colleagues.  May you be safe in your classrooms, on the roads, and in your everyday lives.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Early Friday morning my younger brother and sister, Joe and Stephanie, and Joe’s girlfriend, Sara, arrived at my house in NJ.  Originally, we planned on riding our bikes from NJ to PA, but somehow these last few days of summer got the best of us, and so we modified our agenda at the very last minute and rode our bikes to the “Jersey shore” instead.  I suspect this decision had a little to do with Joe’s front derailleur breaking leaving him with use of only five gears, Steph’s strep throat infection, and the fact that none of us went to bed before 4am Friday morning (when we planned on leaving to begin biking at 6am!).

No, we certainly weren’t off to a very good start….    

So I mapped out a relatively flat 70 mile ride to the beach which we biked Friday afternoon…A little easier ride, and a day’s distance shy of the NJ to Bellefonte ride.  We visited the beach Friday evening, camped out Friday night, and biked home Saturday morning. 

For four people who’ve been camping a time and again, we sure didn’t appear like experienced campers Friday night.  We truly forgot just about everything we could have possibly needed for our one night camping adventure.  Plastic ware?  Nope, we didn’t bring this.  A can opener?  Who needs such a device when all one has to eat is canned foods?  Possibly a knife would suffice (to open our cans)?  But wait, we forgot that as well. 

You see, Steph planned our menu: meatless tacos featuring refried beans, black beans, salsa, canned tomatoes, and corn.  Try preparing this meal without a can opener, minus any pots or pans, plastic ware or seasonings for that matter.  We looked like Neanderthals first scooping refried beans out of a can with our hands, then plopping them onto slabs of aluminum foil, licking our fingers clean, and throwing the “dish” into the fire.  Joe was responsible for quickly recovering each of the foil packs from the flaming fire which were then opened and consumed.  We all laughed as we dished out our meal using nothing other than our fingers and few scrap taco shells.

Fortunately (or in a day I’ll probably say “unfortunately”), none of us knew Steph had strep throat at the time.  She had a negative rapid strep test on Thursday morning but was only informed that her throat culture grew out streptococcus Monday afternoon.  I suspect with all our saliva sharing we’ll all have sore throats by Wednesday…

My contribution to the meal was foils packs but I failed to remember a knife to slice the potatoes.  I guess I didn’t think I needed a can opener to open up the corn and peas because I certainly didn’t bring this.  Fortunately, my green beans were bagged.  Guess I thought my teeth were strong enough to open a few metals cans.  And, of course, I forgot any seasoning salt or oil. 

And I didn’t bring buns for the hotdogs, ketchup, mustard or napkins for that matter. 

Still, our meal turned out just fine.  Laughter improves most any situation.  

When I called Brad to inform him of our silliness he couldn’t stop laughing.  “And you called me “stick up ass” for being so rigid and organized during the bike trip across the country?!”  That’s when I realized as well, I forgot my pillow!  What exactly did I bring along on this trip???  The answer: nothing useful other than what was found on my person.     

The highlight of the trip for me was the presence of a Wawa, at minimum, every 10 miles.  And yes, we stopped at every one which we passed.  Both days of riding were hot and sticky and I, for one, couldn’t resist the temptation of fresh iced water every chance I got.  Truly, Wawa might be my new favorite snack joint.  $2.99 “shorties”, cheddar jalapeño stuffed pretzels, and fountain drinks: this might just be my type of paradise. 

Only problem we faced with Wawa was that some of the fountain machines didn’t offer water so we had to fill up with ice and wait for it to melt (which only took about a minute under New Jersey’s scorching sun).  A slightly larger problem than this was that some of the water tasted a bit carbonated, particularly the water that came out of the same fountain as Sprite.  For about 10 miles, Steph was complaining that her water tasted horrible.  “It tastes like watered down carbonated Sprite!”  (Imagine accompanying melodramatic bitter face). I kept telling her it was just fine, mine tasted the same…just a bit carbonated, but it was water so she should drink it…until I tasted hers and almost puked.  Truly it was foul.  With that, I felt obligated to take her “water”, drink it and give her mine!    

Steph got a flat tire on the ride home, just one mile following our picnic lunch, cooked by Sara atop a picnic bench situated outside of a Wawa using Jeremy’s propane grill.  For lunch we ate our leftover meatless tacos, hotdogs and potatoes.  Surprisingly, the food tasted awesome.  Either Sara’s got a niche for good cooking or we were just hungry.  I suspect a combination of both is true.  Steph ran over a huge nail that punctured right through her tire.  It was literally sticking out of her wheel.  I was surprised her tire wasn’t completely destroyed.  While changing her tube an incredibly kind woman came over apologizing relentlessly that she couldn’t find a spare tire to offer us in her garage.  ‘She’d looked everywhere but couldn’t come up with anything.’  Dressed in bike shorts and a jersey, she offered use of her front yard if we needed it.  I found this gesture incredibly kind especially after being flipped off by a miserable gentleman lounging on his motorcycle, and yelled vulgarities at by a douchbag in a sports car.  Where do people get off!?  If someone could explain people’s hatred toward bikers I’d really appreciate it?  What is the problem with riding a bike down the road, to the right of the white line anyway?   

When we got back to NJ Saturday evening, Brad had prepared fajitas, homemade salsa, guacamole, and a black bean salsa for us.  After a dip in the pool, along with a glass of champagne, this meal couldn’t have tasted any better. 

Before summer’s end, we’ve all agreed to ride back to Bellefonte.  That’s how enjoyable this 2 day ride was. It made for a perfect weekend…a weekend that might not have started out perfectly but couldn’t have ended any better. 

For dessert Saturday night we enjoyed soft serve while listening to live local music in downtown Princeton.  As we listened to the music I thought about our trip across the country a few summers back.  Hard to believe how long ago that really is.  Even last summer seems just like yesterday.  Who would have thought after biking home to Bellefonte, across Pennsylvania and then through Iowa apart of RAGBRAI, I’d blink and wake up a whole year later!?  Life flies by all too quickly.  Drink it up people.

There’s so much I hope to do, yet never enough time.    

This weekend made me think, ‘this is why my parents chose to bring me into this world’.  No matter how tragic life can seem at times, it truly is worth the ride. If they didn’t bring me into this world, it’s true, I wouldn’t have experienced any of the heartbreak and sadness I’ve seen, but then again, I wouldn’t have gained such great experiences, happiness and joy.  Take for instance the simplicity of this 2 day bike ride.   

I suspect life is worth far more than we might appreciate.

On a random note, I’ve decided to provide you with a few book suggestions and reviews each week.  Bring back memories of your local community library’s summer reading program from way back when?  I hope so.  Here are this week’s top picks in no particular order:

1. The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold
2. We Need to Talk about Kevin, Lionel Shriver 

...This book rather ingeniously portrays grief from the perspective of a mother whose child was killed, and also whose child had killed.  It was a difficult read for me following Jeremy’s death but provided an interesting perspective as I often find myself sad for the family members of those who act out on such sickening rage.

3. Hey Nostradamus!  Douglas Coupland
4. Heaven, Randy Alcorn
5. Under the Banner of Heaven, Jon Krakauer
6. Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer
7. Tuesdays with Morrie, Mitch Albom

Please feel free to send me your comments. 

A review is soon to come. 

And on one final, very substantial note…I suspect most if not all of you have heard the news of the latest mass shooting here in the United States. In Manchester, Connecticut, on Wednesday, August 4 a Hartford Distributor employee opened fire killing eight people and then himself.  The thought of yet another mass shooting truly is gutting. My heart breaks for the victims and for their families…So many lives cut short all because of one individual’s selfishness, rage, hatred, and pure evil.  In a split second so many lives were changed forever. 

When I hear of shootings such as this, my gut gnaws because I know all too well the pain and violation this senseless brutality surfaces.  My wound reopens.  It is my hope that those affected by this horror be comforted by precious memories of their loved ones, and one day find some scrap of peace. 

I wish we lived in a society where violence wasn’t used to solve problems, where people thought first of the consequences of their actions (and actually considered them) before acting, where guns weren’t so easily accessible to those brewing with rage, and where life was respected much more so than it is now.  We aren’t safe anywhere, not at work, not at school, not at the mall, on the roads, or even in our own homes.  I pray more people will recognize this truth and act diligently to change our society and its ways. 

May those robbed of such promising futures rest peacefully in a place far better than this tragic earth.