4/21/21012: Silliness

I have mentioned in a couple of posts that my daughter was getting ready to leave home. That kind of sounds like she was getting ready to leave for college or that she was going to get her own place. Neither of those things are the case. My daughter, Carla, has chosen to live a nomadic lifestyle for a while. She started her travels last summer. Her intention was to begin a journey on her bicycle that could eventually take her around the world. At the time she decided to do this she was living in Narragansett, RI, and was working for a landscape company. She liked the work she was doing and she got a lot of satisfaction from being on her own but she had the travel bug and she had it bad. This itch started in her sophomore year of college when she and her then boyfriend, Alvie, started talking about walking across the United States. Fast forward several years and Carla had graduated from college, moved away from home, broken up with Alvie, started working full time, and was creating a life for herself in Rhode Island; yet something was missing. She felt this huge need to be on the road.

Like many of us, today, Carla had accumulated a little bit of debt, so she asked if she could move home so that she could get her debt paid off quickly. Of course, we said yes. She came home in November of 2010. It did not take long for her to find a job at Target where she worked hard for several months, paid off all her debt and started saving some money. By this time she had decided that her travels would be by bicycle, so she purchased a bike, made panniers out of kitty litter buckets and started accumulating the gear she needed for a life on the road. She started her travels the last week of July 2011. She didn't start out alone, though. I had the crazy idea that it would be fun to ride the first 500 miles together. We spent last summer training with our friend, Ryan Kegley, and the three of us started our 500 mile bike ride in Osceola, WI. We rode east across Wisconsin to Michigan's UP and then rode across the Upper Peninsula to Mackinac Island. It was a beautiful and fun week. Jack drove the sag vehicle with all of our gear, so we did not have to carry our tent, clothes, or anything else but our water and a little bit of food. Jack would meet up with us every 20 miles or so for water breaks and lunch, and then get to camp before us and start setting it up. You couldn't ask for better support. We riders had a blast. But the point of that week long ride was to send Carla off on her journey, and send her off, we did. After a victory lap around Mackinac Island and a morning of sight seeing, we said our goodbyes in the ferry parking lot and started driving back to Kansas City. Leaving Carla there, alone and sobbing, eager, yet terrified, to start her solo journey.

There are many stories to tell from the first phase of her adventures, but, sadly, she did not make it too far on her bike. She road another 500 miles or so and stopped in East Lansing to take a break at my sister's house. We originally thought she would be resting her knee which had started to bother her during our first 500 miles but it turns out that the deal killer ended up being her hand. In East Lansing she discovered that she had developed a repetitive motion injury to the ulna nerve in her left (dominate) hand and that was why her hand was partially paralyzed by the time she got to Ruth and Terry's. She couldn't even hold a pencil and considering the fact that she is an artist, being able to hold a pencil is pretty important to her. She visited a couple of doctors, first a hand specialist and then a sports doctor. The news was not good, she had to stop riding her bike. It's hard, in this Reader's Digest version of the story, to describe how painful that news was. She is in love with her bike. She spent over $1100 on the original purchase of the bike and another several hundred dollars getting it tricked out for the ride. The bike's name, by the way, is Bonner. She named it after Bonner Springs, the site of her first solo camping trip after she got the bike.

I expected her to be devastated. Hell, I was devastated. I was so wrapped up in her trip, emotionally. All of the hours we spent training together and the long conversations we had getting her emotionally prepared for the journey. Never before had I lived vicariously through anyone and I never thought I would live vicariously through one of my children, but here I was, living through this with Carla, from 1000 miles away. It was just so exciting and awe inspiring. I couldn't believe she was out there, my daughter, braving the elements and the loneliness and and dangers of being a solo woman on the road. I was so proud of her. I wanted to be her. It was kind of awesome, actually, to know that this was my child out there, doing this big, crazy, scary, life changing thing. And for her, she was living her dream. This was what she had thought about, planned for, worked for, for over a year. She had invested her life in this, and something as simple as a damaged nerve in her left hand was taking it all away. Or so I thought. Until she said, "Mom, can you ship me my backpack?"

I was stunned, impressed, and awestruck. She wasn't ready to give up. She was like the Whos in Whoville.  The Grinch couldn't steal Christmas.  The Whos didn't need a Christmas tree, they didn't need presents.  Christmas was something they held within themselves.  Well, it turns out that Carla didn't need Bonner, she held this adventure in her heart.  If she couldn't ride her bike, she was going to walk. "Wow! Really? How awesome is that?" I said to myself.  I think everyone else just thought she was crazy. I know several of her family members tried to talk her out of it, mostly because they were worried about bad people. And, you know, I was worried about bad people, too. Of course, bad people could have happened when she was on her bike, too; yet somehow, she seemed more vulnerable on foot. But, being the Queen of Rationalization and Silver Linings that I am, I quickly decided that she was safer on foot. I figured the obvious risk that we tend to think about when a women is alone in strange places was there whether she was on her bike or on foot, but that by being on foot, she would actually be less tempting to petty thieves, as she no longer was riding something worth stealing and selling for a quick buck. Also, no matter how you look at it, cycling is not the safest sport in the world. Physically, I am sure it is safer to walk than to ride. So, I talked myself into accepting the fact that she was probably just as safe, if not safer, on foot than she was on her bike. Of course, it didn't really matter what I thought, she was going to continue her journey, with or without my support.

Ruth really came through for her. Carla had to gear up for her pedestrian travels. She had a backpack and all of the camping gear, but she did not have suitable shoes and her tent was damaged when some kids try to steal it. So she had to buy a new lightweight tent and some decent shoes which cost several hundred dollars. Carla decided to sell Bonner and use that money to finance her purchases. Ruth must have sensed how much Carla loved Bonner, because instead of listing it for sale, Ruth offered to lend her the money and hold Bonner as collateral. So after a couple of weeks of doctor's appointments, rest, and re-gearing, Carla was back on the road. She had to make up for lost time, which she did by taking a Greyhound to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. From there she walked up the western edge of Lake Ontario to Montreal, stopping along the way for her first WWOOFing gig. That is a story in and of itself, which can be told later, but for those of you that don't know, WWOOFing is basically volunteering on organic farms around the world for short stints in exchange for room and board. It's and incredible network of farms and vagabonds, helping each other out. So she farmed for a week or two, made herself the rest of the way to Montreal, spent a week there with a friend, and then hitch hiked her way to the Long Trail. After spending several days on the trail, Carla realized she was woefully unprepared for that sort of rugged, wilderness backpacking. Her nose to nose encounter with a mama moose and her two babies made Carla realize this was more than she bargained for. She was prepared, emotionally, for ruffians; but Moose? Bears? Not so much. So she left the trail to be conquered another day (with her mom!!!) and hit the road again. With a combination of walking, bus, and picking up rides, she made it to Boston in short order. From there she made it to Narraganset by train and by foot, spent some time with friends and then it was back on the Greyhound. This time she was headed to Norfolk, VA, where she had the opportunity to crew a sailboat to the Bahamas. Again, that is a story of its own, but she spent about six weeks aboard a 40ish foot sloop and absolutely loved it. The captain taught her tons about sailing and she got the opportunity to snorkel a lot and she even went scuba diving in the Blue Hole down to about 140 feet. Carla said she felt more alive on and in the water than she had ever felt in her life. She was always my ocean baby, since the very first time I took her to the beach, she loved it. Anyway, for reasons I won't go into here, she had to come home, so shortly before Christmas I flew her out of the Bahamas back to Kansas City. She had been on the road for 5 months.

We knew, of course, that the time home was temporary. There were things she needed to take care of at home, then she needed to figure out what was next. After a lot of soul searching and pocket book examining (she was now dead broke. I think she came home with something like $29 in her checking account) she decided to get a summer job that was in an outdoor setting. She used a website called www.coolworks.com to do her job search and started sending out job application after job application after job application. It wasn't long before the phone and Skype interviews started and it was not long after that that the job offers started rolling in. She decided to accept a position at the 4UR Ranch near Creede, CO, as a pastry chef. I find myself, again, slightly jealous of my daughter. The gig starts on May 18th.

Then why did she leave yesterday, you ask? Well, I am guessing you already know the answer to that question. She is riding her bike there. Her hand has healed, she drove to Michigan and picked up Bonner from Ruth (who no longer has collateral for that $800 loan, but Carla is determined to pay her back), and got the bike professionally fitted. She is now much more comfortable and relaxed on the bike, with a more spread out and relaxed posture across her shoulders and in her back and less pressure on her hands. Her legs are also better positioned, allowing her to push through the pedals more effectively. We have our fingers crossed that this will solve the hand problem. Her dad wanted to help her out this time, so they drove about 200 miles to the geographic center of the US. Some small town in Kansas northwest of here, I can't remember the name (Jack just informed me that the name of the town is Lebanon.). She has a route planned that will take her through some of the "Seven Wonders of Kansas." Her route to the dude ranch is approximately 800 miles. I'm guessing she is now getting ready to say goodbye to her dad and hit the road.

Obviously, Carla and I said our goodbyes yesterday. It was quite emotional. There is just so much going on there. I'm excited for her and I am scared for her. I am more worried about the weather than anything else. It's still cold at night, especially in the mountains of Colorado. I think she is adequately prepared for that, but it is still a little scary. And I don't care how much I believe this is the right thing for her to be doing, I do still worry about ruffians and careless drivers. Anything can happen out there. This does not mean that I think she should have taken a bus or some other more conventional means of transportation to the ranch, it just means that I can't help being a little worried. I am glad she is back on the road. I do believe that is where she needs to be right now. She is growing and learning so much from these experiences. The education she is getting on the road is unparalleled by any education she could get in a classroom. Carla, the painfully shy girl that would do anything she could to avoid giving an oral presentation in high school is out there on her own, making her way through the world. On the road she meets daily challenges, fears, and hardships and she tackles each of them alone. She has no one to turn to but herself.  Through this process she is developing a self reliance and a confidence that she desperately craves. This experience is unblocking her creativity, allowing her to express herself artistically in ways that she was unable to before. This is a journey of self discovery and self awareness. This is a journey of overcoming obstacles and hardships. This is a journey of making her own way in the world and figuring out who she is, deep down inside. Sometimes I think of it as how Carla is finding the little girl that she locked away 20 years ago, when she was six years old and her life got turned upside down through no fault of her own. Carla is an adventurer and a bit of a loner, but not a loner as in shunning society, but a loner as in needing that quiet contemplative time. As she says, she's as happy watching an ant go about his business as she is doing just about anything else.  If you'd like to, you can follow her on her blog:  http://www.horizonstruckwanderer.blogspot.com/.  That's my girl!

This journey is about Carla and I am glad she's on it. But, God I'm going to miss her. We're close and it was nice having her home for a few months. She's incredibly easy to live with and we are very supportive of one another. She inspired me to start my "Be Healthy" initiative with her own weight loss and dedication to healthy living. She is so beautiful and vibrant; I can't help knowing that I can exude that vibrancy, too, if I would just make the effort to take care of myself. She joined the gym with me and ran with me in the mornings. She cooked my dinners. She asked me how much I weighed every day. She celebrated my successes and commiserated in my set backs. Today, she would be commiserating.

Were you wondering about the title of this post, "Silliness?" I'm getting to that part. I let myself wallow last night and I decided to wallow in food and drink. When I got home last night the house seemed so empty, in spite of the fact that Jack was here. We almost always go out to dinner on Fridays and Jack knows how much I like the margaritas at Jalapeños so he suggested we go there. They have a good, low calorie fajita salad and I knew I had the calories left for the fajita salad and two margaritas. And last time we went to Jalapeños I was very disciplined and ate exactly what I intended to eat, in spite of the basket of chips and huge menu. Last night I was not so well behaved. I allowed my emotions to make my decisions last night and I drank three margaritas, a chicken fajita burrito, a basket of chips, and half an order of guacamole. I don't know why I thought it was ok to do that. I'm telling you now that it was not ok. I'm disappointed in myself. Last night I even had the nerve to say that I was not going to weigh myself today. I did not even want to know the damage. But this morning I woke up with renewed conviction to being healthy. I did weigh myself. I gained three pounds last night. This morning I weighed 212.2 pounds. Yep, I earned that one.

Yes, there was some part of me that thought consuming all that food and drink was fun, but you know what, it really wasn't. You know what's fun? Getting on the scale and seeing a smaller number today than yesterday. You know what's fun? Daydreaming about doing the Long Trail with my daughter (and perhaps my other female family members if I can talk them into it) on my 60th birthday. You know what's fun? Knowing that I have 50 productive years left to do the things that I want to do, not the things I have to do. You know what's fun? Knowing that the hard half is over, and that I am pretty much done with doing really stupid things. I've learned so much during the first half of my life, mostly by trial and error, I might add. I've made my share of mistakes, but I have learned from all of them. I have a well developed skill set that I am looking forward to applying to all kinds of fun and useful endeavors. I don't know exactly what is coming next, but I know somthing is on the horizon. You know what's fun? Knowing I am going to be ready for it, when it gets here, whatever it may be.

Maybe I needed that stupid moment of weakness and self pity to make me realize that I really am over using food as a form of self medication. I don't need it for that, anymore. Food is something I need for my survival, but I don't need it to improve my mood. It's funny, but the closer I get to truly making this mental shift to "healthy" the less important food becomes to me. The longer I count calories, the more I think of food as fuel rather than comfort. It's like putting gasoline in my car. That's it. I like it better that way. The only conflict I really feel with food at this point is whether or not I'll be able to reconcile "Food as Fuel" with "Food as Celebration." It will be interesting to see how that works itself out over the coming months and years.

I regret last night's decision to consume way too many calories.  The rider let go and the elephant went on a wild romp through the jungle.  But at the end of the day, I think my rider and elephant are more aligned than they have ever been.  In the past, a slip like this would have had me saying, "Oh well, I already screwed up the weekend, I might as well enjoy myself on Saturday and Sunday, too.  I will start my diet again on Monday."  That is exactly what I would have done, before.  In fact, this weekend that would be really tempting to do.  I have a bridal shower to go to today and Jack and I are going to the Royals game tomorrow.  Talk about opportunities to eat!!!  But that is not what I want.  Neither my rider nor my elephant wants to play that game.  They both have their eyes on the brass ring.  There is something good out there to be had, and it is not bridal shower cake, champagne punch or a bag of peanuts.  It's so much bigger and more wonderful than that.  I can't wait to get around the next curve in the road to see what it is.

Again, thanks for being here and reading this.  This blog make so much difference for me.  Knowing I have to tell you about my exploits makes me get on the scale, "The Morning After."  It makes me think about how I felt when I was overeating and how I feel now.  It makes me think about what I really want and what it all really means to me.  It's helping me straighten out my thoughts and feelings about food.  This blog is one of the most important tools in my tool box, and it would mean nothing without you out there reading it.  So, faithful readers, please continue to stop by.  I sincerely appreciate it!!!!!