Category: Life After Kids

At Dawn We Ride! Go Women Cycling

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After 18 months of lamenting how I only know male cyclists, one of them being my gynecologist, (I could write a thousand jokes about that here, but I won’t. At least not today.) I finally found a group of women cyclists to ride with in Tulsa. The Tulsa Tough Diva’s is a brand new organization. While I’ll be in Nashville this year and unable to participate in the Saint Francis Tulsa Tough three day event, I did join up as a Diva for the training rides and for the fellowship. Well that and the really cool uniforms. And not to be a hack, I won’t wear a uniform for a team I don’t actually ride with, so….

I go on my first group ride with them in the morning.

Yeah for me! and for women cycling in Tulsa.

Ambulance on Stand By? — On Deck Route 66 Marathon

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320362_479224935424341_664089366_nAwesome moments in history — In 1967, Kathrine Switzer was the first woman to run the Boston marathon. After realizing that a woman was running, race organizer Jock Semple went after Switzer shouting, “Get the hell out of my race and give me those numbers.” However, Switzer’s boyfriend and other male runners provided a protective shield during the entire marathon.The photographs taken of the incident made world headlines, and Kathrine later won the NYC marathon with a time of 3:07:29. [Wiki] /

This woman is amazing!

I’m not even going to do her justice here. Talk about resolve. An official tried to forcibly remove her from the race and other men stepped in to protect her and she was able to finish the race. You can read her online bio HERE

Anyone who has the wherewithal to finish a marathon has my utmost respect, male or female, but do be the first woman ever to run in one and do it like she did, is priceless in my book.

I do not presently have my sights on running a full marathon. Heck, I’m lucky to run down the block without throwing up. I do however want to climb Pikes Peak in Colorado on my 50th birthday (in 2015) and that is going to take some training.

Why Pikes Peak? Because action trumps self pity every day.

The book “Don’t Let Me Go: What My Daughter Taught Me About the Journey Every Parent Must Make” by David Pierce planted this seed of mine back in 2009. It’s about his mountain climbing adventures with his daughter. I almost didn’t read the book because I hate father daughter everything. In a moment of personal bravery, I decided to get over myself and I thoroughly enjoyed reading the book. They climbed quite a few mountains and ran a lot of races together. I can almost bet if his daughter was the one being attacked in a marathon, he’d be the first man to protect her. I’m a little envious to be honest.

While Don’t Let Me Go opened a desire for adventure it also opened a wound. Bits and pieces of self-pity starting seeping into my veins. Not all at once mind you, just a little here and a little there. I ignored it for a long time and went on my own adventures like horseback riding through the jungles of Belize in 2011 (wicked cool!) and swimming with sharks in Cancun with my husband and boys in 2012 (and amazingly awesome) as well as snorkeling a barrier reef that same year. I love going on adventures with my guys and I hope we get to do many more as the years go by.

Even so, I could not shake the “oh how I wish I had a father to do things with while I was growing up.” bug of a monster in the back of my brain. Self-Pity is a horrible, nasty, terrible disease that lies and festers if you don’t kick it in the butt as soon as it surfaces. I finally had to face it and call it out for what it is — a self absorbed, egotistical, useless waste of time, breath, and energy.

I don’t have a father. There is nothing I can do about that. That is reality. I have a birth father, but that’s not the same thing.

It.

is

what

it

is.

I know, I’m 47 and I have “daddy issues” so sue me. Deep down, I believe a lot of women do. That’ s not always as easy as I can make it sound. Books have been written on it and I’m not going to bore you here. I’m just adding this because for some  reason self-pity told me I could never climb Pikes Peak.

My brain is bad neighborhood and I cannot go there alone most days so I finally I decided to talk this out with a friend of mine. She’s ruthless mind you which is why I talk to her only when I’m ready.

“Let me get this straight. You want to climb Pikes Peak because of a book you read, but you can’t because you don’t have a dad and your husband’s knees are too bad to join you? Well that sounds ridiculous.  Call a friend to go with you and climb the stupid mountain. Don’t call me because I have arthritis, but I’m sure there is at least one other crazy person in Tulsa who will travel with you.”

Sure enough I mentioned my desire while at a friend’s house and one of the gals at the table said she’d driven UP the mountain but had never climbed it, she’d love to go with me.

Huhn.

And there you have it. On August 27, 2015 – my 50th birthday, I Deana will summit Pikes Peak – without using the train, or a four-wheeler. I will do it the old-fashioned way – hiking up and I will be doing it with friends.

I have some hurdles to get over before attempting to climb this mountain. It’s a two-day climb I have some physical issues that need to be addressed. My son’s doctor was correct, parent’s of special needs kids do great taking care of their kids, but are lousy at taking care of themselves. My youngest is now grown, seizure free (because of the right meds)  functioning as an adult with a job, a car, and is going to college. I can relax. I get to take care of me now. That’s a good thing. I can either feel lost and un-needed (and that does come up some days) or I can remind myself that I am needed, by me, to take care of me because no one else can do that quite like I can.

1. I’m way out of shape — 50+ pounds out of shape.

2. My right ankle cannot tolerate long distance walking and PP is a lot of walking. (I shattered it as a kid and it’s pretty messed up today)

3. My left foot likes to go to sleep randomly, without warning. – no clue why and yes my doc is looking into it.

4. I’ve never been to Colorado. I have no idea if I can handle the altitude.

I have to start somewhere and the best place to start is where my feet are.

How do I start? by planning smaller steps, acknowledging my obstacles and planning ways to overcome those. — (I learned all this from Storyline by the way.)

Baby Steps:

  1. I will be in cycling events, starting with 25 miles this June and culminating with the MS-150 in 2014. (my base mileage is still at 10-15. I need to bring it up a lot)
  2. I will participate in 5k’s. Walking at first and eventually running in those. – I’ll be posting these events on my side bar for accountability.
  3. I will (Big Gulp) participate in the Route 66 half marathon this November. I signed up yesterday. This to me is a big hairy audacious deal. I make fun of marathon runners. Who knows maybe I’ll like it so much that I actually want to run in the full one next year.  Don’t laugh, it could happen. I swam with sharks last year — anything’s possible. And I’m told they have medics on stand-by just in case, so it’s all good.

I’m not in a holding pattern between being a Mom and waiting to be a Grandma — I’m a woman. I have a story to write. I have my story to live.

BE BOLD

BE BRAVE

DARE TO LIVE

Music Monday: Rhonda Vincent, Jolene

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Sane women do not wake up one day at 47  and think, “I have never learned a musical instrument, I don’t know how to read music, nor have I ever listened to Bluegrass (Hee Haw and Roy Clark not withstanding – not sure that counts anyway) I think I’ll learn banjo.”

Fortunately for me, I am a redhead and I’ve never been accused of being sane.

I’ve only been playing banjo since May of 2012. Bluegrass is new to me. I’m still learning who is who and what is what. I had a hard time learning songs at first because I’d never heard Cripple Creek (Remember THIS post?), or Orange Blossom Special and other classics. Foggy Mountain Breakdown yes, you’d have to live under a rock to not know that one, the rest all sounded the same to me.

Wanting to do well in my new adventure I decided to immerse myself in Bluegrass and I went out and spent roughly $300 on CD’s before discovering there is good bluegrass, and there is horrible bluegrass — Teach made me promise to never again waste my money on another CD unless I run it by him first. The man has saved me a fortune. I now feel good about owning Alison Brown, Sam Bush, and Allison Krause. This week, I get to add a new favorite, Rhonda Vincent. (Teach owns all of her CD’s)

I posted a Bill Gaither video for Music Monday not that long ago and in this video was Rhonda Vincent and the Rage. I just posted it because I thought it was a cute song — I had no clue who Rhonda was – or the Rage. I was more interested in Bill and the comedy aspect of it, than I was them. They did however sound familiar to me, so I decided to do some research. Come to find out, I’d actually seen Rhonda live last year at the Claremore Bluegrass and Chili Festival, I just didn’t remember her name.

Rhonda falls into the excellent category — She’s all over YouTube and has several CD’s available on Amazon. I recently placed an order through Amazon for two of her CD’s.

I remember her singing this song in Claremore last year — we were on our way out (hubs wanted to leave) and this song just stopped me in my tracks. I like her arrangement better than I do Dolly Parton’s. If you enjoy this, look her up on Itunes and see what else she has. You will not be disappointed.

 

Disclaimer: FCC regulations require full disclosure – no goods or services have been given in exchange for this endorsement of Rhonda Vincent or the The Rage. 

Music Monday: eye of the tiger, ala the pedal pusher society

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I think this video is hilarious and I’m kinda diggin the Girl Power Groove thing they got going on  here.

I’m under the weather at the moment so I thought I’d catch up on my blog reading — I was starting to get scared again while studying group rides and what counts as an acceptable speed. I needed the levity. These gals are having fun and you know, I kinda think that’s how it should be.

And then another cycling video just for fun.

 

Where Were You When You First Met Anne?

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anne-lamott-credit-sam-lamott-final-small_custom-508ad61ad7cd1860a90521caedf65c1aeb330750-s6-c10It’s not like I’ve never heard of her. I have. “If you want to learn how to write, read Bird by Bird.” my friends say. I own Bird by Bird and while I’m not entirely certain as to whether or not I’ve read it, I know it’s here in my home somewhere.  I put it away for safe keeping — along with all of my other safe keeping dreams.

Time and busyness of life have relegated the book to one of my piles of things that stack up when unattended. Sometimes my piles of things include tangible things like books and papers, other times they are more reminiscent of Pandora’s box — this dream, that lust, this need, that resentment. Which box or which pile or room I’ve relegated that book to, has yet to be determined. In many ways, I’m still sifting through yesterday’s hopes, and clearing out some wreckage in order to make room for the good stuff. Only recently am I starting to remove the bandages on my wings and testing their muscle. I do notice that while they tire easily, they grow stronger every day.

I could simply go buy it again. It’s not like I can’t afford to. And maybe I will, maybe I won’t. It doesn’t matter at the moment because in all honesty I didn’t meet Anne in Bird by Bird. Maybe I sensed something when I held that book in my hands that I was just wasn’t ready to face. I think I was afraid. Afraid of change. Afraid of truth. And maybe even a little afraid of meeting myself.

Because the truth is, you cannot  meet Anne and not be changed. I wasn’t ready to meet me yet. Sweet little,dishonest to a fault,  people pleasing, just give me the rules and I’ll follow them so you’ll like me, me — standing on my branch and rather than flying choosing to climb back down for a while. The clamor of life: laundry, dishes, dirty floors, homework, sex, obligations, gardens that keep dying cover the voices screaming in my head that there has got to be more.

More to this recovery thing.

More to this God stuff and service.

More to writing and family.

More to life.

More to me.

Anne’s is a name that is sometimes spoken in hushed whispers in my somewhat conservative circles. Even in AlAnon, she is considered contraband  “Non Conference Approved Literature” and all. It’s not as if she’s Voldemort or anything. I mean she’s just a woman like me – except for the dreadlocks. Oh how I love the freedom in those.

I didn’t meet Anne in Bird by Bird. I met Anne in Sunday School while teaching a safe and Board of Education approved class on Spiritual Disciplines. Not a bad study really. We talked about the importance of prayer, and meditation, forgiveness, and walking in the Spirit. Strong, spiritual Godly stuff. Stuff fit for women taught to serve and not ask questions. Problem is, I had a lot of questions. I still do.

Two visitors wandered in one day and joined my class. After a month or so one of the ladies torn over the ultra conservative nature of our church and her own personal beliefs, offered me a book on loan. “Read this and give it back to my friend when you are finished. I’m not coming back.” –

The book is Traveling Mercies.

This is where I met Anne.

This is where I learned that it is okay to have a crazy family, a messed up testimony,and a messy faith that is wholly mine and no one else’s. It’s okay not to have all the answers, have teeny tiny control issues, and I learned that thinking things that would make Jesus want to drink gin straight out of a cat dish is a starting place for forgiveness sometimes. It’s okay to tell the truth. To stand up for women. To be ourselves, without apology. It’s okay not to believe everything people believe and to think for yourself.

It’s okay to find your own music and purpose in life.

We listen to the same radio station, (K-FKD) only I was too embarrassed to admit it. Not Anne – she called it was it is and dropped the F-Bomb right there in black and white. I giggled out loud and looked around the room to see if anyone had heard what I just read. Feeling safe in my overstuffed green chair, certain that no one had overheard,  I sank in deeper and read the book through the night. By the end of the book, I wanted dreadlocks as well.

I don’t have them. Frankly they would look foolish on me.

Being the only daughter of an alcoholic mother myself, I run the gamut of loving and hating Anne. Sometimes I feel jealous and fall into traps of self-pity and wonder what my life would be like had my mother stayed in the program. Other times, I feel alive and torn between conviction and reassurance that I am indeed on the right path.

Anne is to me what women like Gloria Steinem were to my mother — an awakening. A voice to be heard and digested. A reminder that I am a child of God first, as well as a woman and a sister to others. All of my roles, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend MATTER.  I too have a responsibility to wake up and keep the fight that the women before me fought. Freedom does not come from passively enjoying the benefits bestowed upon my generation by my Grand Mother’s and Mother’s generation or by assuming they will always remain. Simple things like credit, workplace equity,educational equality,  peace in this world, caring for the poor, all of those things matter and can go away with the very next generation if we don’t speak up.

This world needs voices.

This world needs women.

This world needs you and it needs me.

I’ve been asking Anne (via Facebook, I know weird right?) if she’d please include Tulsa in her book tours. That hasn’t happened yet. She is however on tour again discussing Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son’s First Son and is coming to Kansas City MO in April. The church she’ll be speaking at is only four hours from my house — I’m going. Bought my ticket already and everything.

I just want to meet her and say thank you.

Hopefully I won’t gush. That would be embarrassing really —

She’s influences me as a woman and that influences me as a writer.

She is just a mirror really — because the truth is – you spot it, you got it.

That which is we dislike in others are things we usually dislike in ourselves

AND JUST AS TRUE

Those things we hold up and admire in others are also those same things that exist in ourselves.

So, where were you when you met Anne? Have you? If not — let me introduce you — I think you’ll like her. I do.  — ANNE LAMOTT FACEBOOK PAGE

I’m Riding in the Tour de Cure: Go Team Phoenix Rising

Deana2 Comments

photo (2)Okay, I know I said I wouldn’t post while under the influence of cold meds, BUT I have got to share this with you guys. It’s official. My group of friends have all agreed (mostly all anyway) to ride with me in the Tour de Cure this year for ADA. I rode alone last year — yes they sent me out as the scout. I came back alive and so they’ve decided if I didn’t die, neither will they. That and the sub-culture at my husband’s office is one of physical fitness and it seems everyone and their grand-kids signed up this year —

Because I didn’t know what to expect, I only rode 10 miles last year — this year I’ve signed up for 25. All road, no trail that I know of . YIPES. (put paper sack over face, breathe deep, I can do this!)  Most of the team will hang at the 25 mark because this is their first ride for ADA. My base is presently at about ten miles, all trails, zero road. I need to up that over the next ten weeks or so in order to get ready — and ready I will be. I have to be ready, I’m the team captain for heaven sake. I mean how would it look if the captain dies mid route?

It would look bad.

Granted these riders are pros. They know what they are doing. They really just needed me to co-ordinate everything for them. I’m like the Wedding Planner only cooler. All they have to do is train and show up — I got the rest.

I have not ridden 25 or more consecutive miles on a bike since that day back in 1989 where Jeff (my then boy friend, now husband) tried to kill me. I still did not know my way around Chicago so when he suggested we take a “fun bike ride” from Niles IL to the Botanical Gardens, I had no idea how far it was.

I spent the night sleeping on the floor of my apartment with every muscle in my body seizing up because that was where I landed when we got back and getting up was not possible. I couldn’t walk right for a week. I should add, I was also in my best physical shape possible, weighing in at a whopping 124 pounds. I ran cable and installed PBX systems for a living. I rocked. And I still almost died.

And here I am ready to do it again — some 24 years later. HA This time, I’ll be prepared. This time I’m training. This time I have to because I don’t weigh 124 lbs anymore. My “diet” took a fun turn in December and January while I blew off some much-needed steam. (Translated, I decided to throw a major temper tantrum) I may have over enjoyed my newly discovered friends: Zacapa Rum,  and Glen’s Fiddich and Livet, My Irish Friend Jameson and my new favorite girlfriend Miss Tequila Rose with a splash of Baileys. I also discovered yummy smoothies made with avocado, cucumbers and coconut milk that probably pack half a days calories per pinch as well. While my calorie intake from food remained at 1,300-1,500, I’m afraid my beverage consumption offset that terribly.

Explaining to my doctor on Monday why I didn’t lose the ten pounds he suggest I lose two months ago was awkward and embarrassing.  He used the word “moderation” and I’m like okay, yeah, probably a good idea at this point. Alcohol has a lot of empty calories and I can either continue to be a brat or I can suck it up, find my resolve to get back in shape and start again. I’m not a heavy drinker, never have been, I just didn’t pay attention to the caloric intake and I’m paying for it with my lack of weight loss.

My temper tantrum is over.

I used to be an athlete.

I used to be a model.

I’m neither of those things today.

I’m not used to having to work at it. At least I didn’t consider it work when I was competing at Shaolin and Tai Chi. It was just fun.

Guess I need to learn how.

Now is as good a day as any.

CC_TourDeCure_190x190 Click on the Photo and Support My Ride!

Music Monday: Will The Circle Be Unbroken

DeanaLeave a comment

I love the soulfulness of a banjo when it’s being played well. I’m not a fan of speed so much, but the notes are rich and I enjoy that. Usually. When I don’t think I suck anyway. My hyper focused must-be-as-good-as-Alison-Brown-in-six-months dementor of a brain can suck the fun right out of this adventure of mine if I’m not careful.

I’ve been ready, able, and almost willing to chuck the banjo and start over with a kazoo many times over the past month.  I had one of those really rough banjo lessons last week. The kind where I tried so hard that I crashed and burned. I was trying to get Salty Dog from 140 (Which is what I can presently play it at) to 200 (where it needs to be) in seven days.  I’d achieved 170 at home, twice and with LOTS of mistakes. I mostly hung around at 160, which is still okay.  My hands and brain were so tired by the time I showed up to class I could barely play. Add insult to injury, I did an emotional and mental crash and burn that resulted in my forgetting the song almost completely.

I felt so bad for blowing it, that I actually apologized to my teacher for wasting his time. Oh yeah, no issues with self loathing here. (Insert eye roll) Fortunately for all of us, teach doesn’t share my opinions on what constitutes a waste of time. We put away the books and the sheet music and just started a simple roll pattern. Good call on his part because I’m pretty sure I was on the verge of tears. Then we started picking out notes from Will the Circle be Unbroken. Awesome song if you’ve never heard it.

Instead of trying to kill myself over notes licks and speed, I get to spend the week finding this song on my banjo and writing my own arrangement to it. Do you know what? I’m having a blast. Not that I’m knocking it out of the park or anything.  I don’t even have an arrangement I like yet. I have however, spent more time and have had more fun playing with my banjo, testing out chords, finding riffs, and listening to the music than I have since I started playing last year. I even found a really pretty lick (8 full measures) that I can tuck away and keep for a song some day.

I came across this video while I was researching the song. I love it and thought you guys would as well. Have a great Monday y’all.

 

Friday Funny: How to Mess With Your Grown Kids

Deana2 Comments

Our oldest home from college and he found my

Belly Dancing for Beginners DVD.

He told me he now needs money for therapy.

I told him if I have to pay for therapy, he should at least see the costume.

I haven’t seen him in two hours.

Support Movies Filmed in Oklahoma: So This is Christmas

Deana1 Comment

One of the fun things about having grown kids is having the time to be an extra in locally filmed movies. (This is my second movie as an extra. Wow what fun.)  This is a wonderful story for the whole family and is showing at the Circle Cinema December 2 – December 8. For more information on the movie check out So This Is Christmas, The Movie.

I Bonked, and I’m Back: Cycling Update, Unexpected allies and third base

Deana2 Comments

Bonk : Hitting a wall, In endurance sports such as cycling and running, hitting the wall or the bonk describes a condition caused by the depletion of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles, which manifests itself by sudden fatigue and loss of energy. Milder instances can be remedied by brief rest and the ingestion of food or drinks containing carbohydrates. The condition can usually be avoided by ensuring that glycogen levels are high when the exercise begins, maintaining glucose levels during exercise by eating or drinking carbohydrate-rich substances, or by reducing exercise intensity. (Source Wikipedia)

I’ve learned that nothing kills my personal enthusiasm for cycling like having a hot flash while riding my bike in triple digit weather. Puking at the top of the hill in front of my husband and the cars passing by on Sheridan Road is a moment I will not soon forget. Neither will anyone else, I’m sure.

Star date – 360 something since I bought my first road bike, and I’m still learning. I’m a newbie in the cycling world and I spend a lot of time trying out new things, asking questions and following teams and cyclists on blogs and twitter. ALL of my cycling friends are male. I do not know a single female cyclist. Even so, my hope is to one day run with the big dogs, or at the very least keep up with my friends who are already road warriors in my opinion. The problem with only knowing male cyclists is they don’t have the female answers I sometimes need. Or so I think. Men don’t have hot flashes while riding, and being able to relieve the call of nature anywhere they want, personal restroom stops are not as important. Cutting back on fluid intake because I’m unsure of where the bathrooms are, is not smart and can put you in the ER with a bladder infection if you are not careful. Don’t ask how I know that.

I want to learn and therefore I read whatever I can find, and since I can only find male bloggers about cycling, I read them. While I do receive instructional benefit regarding diet, and how to avoid bonking I must confess, if I read one more cycling blog on the benefits of “man-scaping” for cyclists, I’m going to throw up again. While I realize that male cyclists who blog about cycling need to cover all bases, I really wish they’d leave third base out of it. But they can’t because it’s important to their over all health.

In my pursuit of cycling knowledge, I discovered that the universe is shrinking. I know this because I once saw my gyn’s name fly across my twitter screen. It seems he is an avid cyclist and I was following his racing team without knowing it was his team. Once I cleared the coffee spray off my screen, neurotic un-following and mass apologies quickly followed. Chalk one up for neurotic boundaries. I’ve been flying solo ever since and that journey has had more ups and downs than the hills on the trail I ride.

My husband purchased a bike this summer and I’m excited to have a riding buddy. He’s also taught me about shifting gears and powering through hills. The only real downside is the only time we could ride together was for 30 minutes in the morning. I push harder when I ride with him and I built muscle riding the hills. The downside is losing out on the cardio benefit with those short rides. While I haven’t lost weight, I have gone down a full clothing size. That’s a plus. Now that it’s too dark to ride before work, I’m back riding solo. Not wishing to ride alone, I got pissy and blew off September. Not surprisingly, my weight has plateaued again.

A friend from Colorado reminded me that if it’s important to me, I’ll find a way, if not I’ll find excuses.  It’s time to get back on the bike. For safety purposes, I’m hitting Riverside trails where there are people. Safety in numbers and all.

I’m also back to reading blogs, and asking questions.

Of all the people I thought to ask questions of, my doctor was the last person on the list. I didn’t know how to start the conversation – oh yeah I saw you on twitter and found out you ride — (that just sounded creepy to me) and I wasn’t sure that I want him in my personal life. I mean, he’s seen me naked, you know?

We run in adjacent social circles, have for years. How we’ve never run into each other is beyond me. Now that I’m cycling, our circles are intersecting more and more. I was worried that I’d crossed a personal boundary by following his team and tried to extract myself as discreetly as possible. Turns out I was worried for nothing. Having a doctor who is a cycling enthusiast can be an asset. At least, it’s an asset when I’m not being whiny or trying to make him laugh.

I do not suggest telling a man who just completed a 400 mile bike tour that you are working your butt off and still not losing weight as it’s all laughably relative at that point and it just sounds whiny. Just sayin.

Opening up and telling him what I’m attempting has been beyond beneficial. It also turns out that third base is important, especially if I want to ride more than ten miles at a stretch.

Three things I did wrong my first year out:

1. Hydration Hydration Hydration. — If I’m avoiding fluids because I’m afraid of being a water hazard he can fix that. I’m not alone on this issue. Many women wrongly adjust to their circumstances by cutting back on fluids and that is the worst thing you can do to yourself and your body. And trust me on this Bonking sucks.

2. Get fitted for your bike. – Form is important. Bikes are not a one size fits all. There needs to be a balance between the seat and hand rails in order to take pressure off your spine, shoulders and nether regions. A good bike shop will do this for you in no time at all.

3. Wear the right clothes. I’ll be honest, I avoided cycling shorts for obvious reasons. I think they look ridiculous and I’m attached to looking “cute” while I sweat and puke. Good quality cycling shorts come with much-needed padding in the right places if you know what I mean. Your seat is important. Chaffing can be avoided with the right gear. Your thighs will thank you. The right shorts make all the difference in how far I can ride. Being comfortable has now outweighed the whole “do these make my butt look big” issues in my brain; of course they do, accept that and move on. The trick to remember is don’t wear panties with these or you defeat the purpose and get out of those shorts as soon as possible after the ride to avoid unnecessary infections. Also a good chamois cream with anti-bacterial ingredients does not hurt.

Lastly doc put me on an estrogen patch to help with those hot flashes and night sweats. I presently believe that an estrogen patch is to menopause what a morphine drip is to pain — No more insomnia, hot flashes or night sweats. Does wonders for our married life as well. The mood swings, however, have more to do with my personal temperament than my hormones though so I need to work on that.  Comes with being a redhead.

Getting and staying in motion is important to my overall health. It impacts me physically, emotionally, and spiritually and that is a good thing.

Happy riding you guys!