...in New York

I've forgotten. How did I forget? Sitting on top of a rooftop bar drinking a glass of wine and laughing with my cousins I've never met before, I realized that 10 years is too long to stay away. I love the energy of the City and can't wait to explore with K. tomorrow.

It was 10 years ago in April? In May? That I sat in a hotel room in mid-town and started my blog. That first post was about staying in touch with friends and it was about my Grandpa. Grandpa whom I loved, who taught me to drive, who used to tell us stories of how he took the train into NYC for a nickel. Grandpa who had two families and left one to be with the second family. The cousins I met and enjoyed so much today were from the first family. Whatever choices were made and cast were done so long ago by people no longer alive. The best we can do is embrace the good fortune of what has come out of it - and by good fortune, I mean my new aunt, uncle and cousins.

Ten years ago I sat alone in NYC and started my first blog to help keep friends and family up-to-date with where I was, what I was doing and all my crazy adventures. Now, ten years later, I have a blog I mean to stop neglecting, rarely travel but am still taking writing classes. I find myself writing in the dark on my laptop, in a room that overlooks the Empire State Building and the Chrystler Building. The lights of the City keep me company as I start to grow tired. Although I'm not sure how I can be tired with so much energy around me and so little time to spend here. But I'm here. And I couldn't be happier with my decision to come back to NYC after all these years. It is tremendous to be here with the sun in the sky, a skip in peoples steps over the shockingly good weather, and a City that has risen through the ashes that still rained down on it the last time I was here.

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made, oh
There's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New York
New York, New York
- Jay-Z


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

There's Nothing You Can't Do...

Los Angeles, San Diego, Boston, Chicago, Albany, and tomorrow is New York.

Those are the places I've slept in from last Friday night through tomorrow. It will be six cities in eight nights. No wonder I overslept and missed my flight to Boston last Sunday after two weddings in a row. Apparently I'm not 28 any more and can't keep up the way I used to. or maybe it was too much Niquil. When in doubt, I'm blaming the fact that I was sick most of last week. Thankfully I'm feeling better.

I had a 5+ hour train ride yesterday from Boston to Albany, where I'm happily visiting family and remembering what that whole "Fall" thing is about. We have it in Southern California, but it's subtle, you have to search for it - in between the palm trees you can find other trees losing their leaves. The light changes, it gets cooler. On the train, after I worked on the paper for my class and before I started Bridesmaids, which I had downloaded specifically for this trip, I found myself gazing out the window wondering why it has taken me 10 years to get back to New York.

This morning when I climbed out of the shower, I think I figured it out. Normally, I've been heading West for vacations. The ones where I can snorkel, swim, hang out with friends, drink fruity rum drinks, hike and hang out. Or I head to Colorado where I can see friends who spoil me, occasionally wander around my old favorite places from when I lived there, and remember what it was like to be 20-something in a new city surrounded by friends.

The last time I was in New York, it was dark, dreary, and a blanket of sadness covered the City in the dust from the recently fallen Twin Towers. The last time I was in New York, it was almost 10 years ago to the day. I had had a meeting in the City so I took the train in from Long Island where I finished my meeting and started walking. I jumped on a subway for the first time by myself and ended up near NYU where I kept walking around. It was hushed and in the subway stations were letters from schools around the country. The ones I stopped to look at were from kids at a school in Texas. I stayed in the City walking around alone for as long as I could before catching a late train back to Long Island. I flew back to Denver the next day. The day after that, I was laid off.

The happy memories of being in NYC were buried far beneath those that hurt the most. And those happy memories were fewer in number and more quickly overlooked than the ones that lasted. It was a hard year that year, living in Colorado, working in NY and going to school in Indiana. Sometimes I tell people I did it just because it sounds so ridiculous, I can't believe that I managed it. Even if it was followed by eight months of unemployment/ recuperation/ focusing on finishing school. My recovery period was almost as long as the amount of time I did that commute. It was exhausting.

So this trip is a chance to renew that experience. To see friends, visit with family and meet new family I haven't met before. I'm excited for the possibilities of visiting New York 10 years later and getting to look at it all in a different light.

When Words Won't Do

Sometimes people say I'm a writer. They ask me what I've been writing. If I'm working on a book and when it will be done. Sometimes I even say that I'm a writer. And sometimes we're all right.

In the past two weeks, ever since the SUV hit me and my little car from behind, I haven't been a writer, a reader or even an employee. Instead I have been a not very patient patient, a sad, angry and frustrated person, a couch sitter, a movie watcher and an occasional walker. But during that time when I was trying to relax, when I could feel the words beginning to swirl around in my body and soul, at no time could I write. It hurt to sit at a computer (it still does), and I couldn't sit or hold a notebook to write. Frustration kept me company and I grew to know it well through the past weeks. It wasn't until a few days ago when my doctor reset my expectations that I began to see a different future path for me the next few months. Instead of being the things of plans, dreams and goals, they have reformed into healing, care and taking care of myself - three things I'm not very good at. But that's what life does, right? Throw things at you so you can be stronger when you get out the other side. Today all of those frustrations melted away in the larger perspective and reminder of life and what truly matters.

On days like today, none of us are right. I'm not a writer. If I was, I'd have the words to express the sadness that comes when someone in my family passes away. Not my immediate family, but in my larger adopted family, ohana if you will. Coach Mark, one of my paddling coaches for the past eight years passed away today. Some people have a light that burns bright. They draw others around them, giving, teaching and in this case, coaching so the rest of us can be better people - in life, on and off the water. And for those people, and for Coach Mark, I am grateful. Mark had an enthusiasm that can't be replicated. From the dance floor to being on the water  - and everything in between. And he shared that love of being on the water - from fishing to paddling to racing. When I am finally allowed back into a canoe, the next time I'm on the water, it will be a celebration - for life, for appreciation, and in honor of someone who touched all of us in Kai Elua. May that love, passion and light be carried on.

Mahalo nui loa Coach Mark.

Au Revior, Shuttle

In April 1981, the shuttle program launched the first shuttle, Columbia, into orbit. As a kid growing up with a father who worked at NASA, I was provided with more random facts about the shuttle program than any one eight year old could hold in her head. For example, a few years into the program when the main fuel tank went from white to rust orange, he explained the cost savings in both paint, and the amount of fuel it took to lift the painted fuel tank into the air. He would explain the design nuances of the different shuttle versions and why they had decided on this final version. Those kinds of fun facts were what he brought home from work.

I'm sure I wanted to poke my eyes out with a sharp object at times as the facts poured in. But don't forget, I was a kid with a dad who worked at NASA. One of the perks before the space shuttle were the Christmas parties. They were held in the biggest of the aircraft hangers at Moffett Field. There was a replica of the Lunar capsule as you walked into the party. And after the party, every year, dad would take us to where he worked and sometimes we were allowed to play in the wind tunnel as long as we didn't touch anything. The wind tunnel was easily my favorite part of the parties. With it's long enclosed space, it was like walking down a large silver hallway that echoed with every step we took. The wind tunnel was the perfect place to pretend to be a storm trooper from the original first Star Wars movie.

The other perk of having a Dad working at NASA was the day he woke up my brother and me very early and put us in the car. Always one for starting trips before the crack of dawn, this trip was no exception. He had pulled us out of school to drive to Edwards Airforce Base to meet some of our cousins to watch the space shuttle Columbia land. It was only the,More than you want to know about the shuttles third or fourth mission, back when the shuttle was still a novelty. The shuttle is the roughly the length of three school buses, it was smaller than I thought it would be when we saw it land and come to a stop.

But all of this was enough to make me want to go to space camp. In case you're wondering, I never went. I didn't want to go for the science and the nerd components, I wanted to hang out in zero gravity, see Earth from far away and see the moon from closer. I didn't have my head in the clouds, my day dreams took flight straight past the Earth's atmosphere and into space. There's some who would argue that I'm still there, and sometimes I probably am.

I'm skipping over the space shuttle drawing I did in 8th grade art class that my parents had framed and still hangs in their house. I'm also skipping over the horrific Challenger explosion.

It's funny how something can take up so much of your thoughts, hopes and dreams for a short while and then drift off to the recesses of your mind. In FL at a tradeshow in Orlando, I learned the Columbia was launching from Cape Canaveral one of the days I was there. A week of rearranging my schedule and a fight with my boss later, I was on my way to watch the Columbia take off. All those years before, I had watched it land and now here was the opportunity to see it take off. From the side of the freeway, I watched the shuttle take off and breathed a sigh of relief when it disappeared out of site.

Today, in eight or so hours, the Atlantis will fly the finial flight of the shuttle program. An article I read earlier in the week got me remembering all of this again. The NASA website has information about the launch that the geek in me loved. It also has a timer for the launch of Atlantis, the last launch of the shuttle program. Adios mi amigo.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Work. Life. Balance.

I get a fail for this, especially lately. However, it is good advice to chase this over-touted myth, like trying to find Sasquatch or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
But this is a very good reminder. In case you're wondering, I love Ted. Listening/watching them make me feel smarter, more creative and inspired (as long as I'm watching the ones I like and not the ones about the over-achieving 12 year old who have discovered the secrets to coal fusion). Today, I came across this one on a friend's blog and for obvious reasons, it spoke to me. Reminders like this of what is possible is something I need to hear every now and then. Even if I'm still at work at 8:00pm when I'm listening to it. We all have to start somewhere.

A Reliance on Breathing

Tonight I did a stupid thing. It was off the charts on the scale of zero to moron, and I didn't see it coming.
That's a lie though, because I absolutely saw it coming, I just thought I was prepared.

I knew the erg would give me an asthma attack, it almost always does. Tonight it gave me an asthma attack in 2.5 minutes. That could be a record. I felt great and was pushing hard, until I couldn't push anymore, and that time came quickly. With my eyes closed, I pulled the handle of the erg and pushed with my legs, again and again, listening tot the spinning of the wheel, the sliding of the seat.

This machine and I are not friends. It reminds me of what I once could do and while it sits there, I get older, my lungs have grown weaker, and even though I am strong, the 38 year old me can't compete with the 20 year old me. But every time I sit on a seat, strap my feet in and grab the handle, I can't help but remember the person I was in college and what I was capable of then. It took only 2.5 minutes, only half of what I had to do for my lungs to protest. I stopped for a few seconds to catch my breath, before starting up again, slower this time. I almost stopped again towards the end, but managed to finish. My friends cheered me on and worried about me at the same time. My eyes closed, I focused on picturing open lungs and pathways for air to go.
It didn't help.
Pacing myself would be the thing to do. Pacing myself for my lungs, not for my muscles or endurance.

After, as I slowly regained control of my breathing and started the coughing, friends reminded me to use my inhaler.

My inhaler. After my accident, I finally gave into the fact that I need them and am dependent on them for breathing. I had one in every possible place, gym bags, my purse, my car, everywhere. Tonight, somehow I didn't have any. I tore my two bags apart, my car, nothing. Shaking I stood outside and took a few deep breaths to calm myself and the fear I felt down. I never would have gotten on the erg if I didn't think an inhaler was within 20 yards of me.

Back at home, I found three in my paddling bag - the one from my car and the other gym bag. I quickly out them back in their specific locations and made a note to call my doctor for another prescription. I am long past the days where I can use just one, it is too important to me to not have it at my fingertips no matter where I am and what I'm doing.

It has taken me almost as long as since I first faced the ergs in college to admit that I need my inhaler. At the time, I didn't recognize my asthma attacks as that, instead thinking I was just out of breath and not in as good of shape as the others, or that I worked harder than they did. Either way, I didn't recognize the wheezing and inability to breath for what it was. Now I know and have accepted the tools to control it, even if I hate having to rely on them.

A few few years ago, a doctor learned I'd lost my last inhaler in the bay and my prescription had run out. He lectured me for 20 minutes. Once the asthma attack gets too far along, there's nothing they can do to open the lungs up. The first person he'd seen die was from an asthma attack - something so easily treated. For me, it wasn't his lecture but my accident that weakened my lungs and forced me to see how they help and that I can't breath without it. In case you're wondering, that kind of reliance sucks. But if it's carrying around an inhaler or trying to breath through an air passage that feels like it's as narrow as a straw, I'll take the inhaler and run with it.

My next challenge is to use the erg as an adult and not as a college athlete. That challenge might prove to be even more difficult...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

You Say "Let Go" Like It's a Good Thing...

Too often lately I've found myself reaching for my computer to update my long neglected blog. Only something distracts me.

Emails from work.
Text message from a boy. (Not the boy, but random boys. That actually doesn't sound any better, does it?
Research that is crucial (what is the temperature of the ocean? Not that it matters now that paddling has started, I just like to know; how tall is that actor? When was that movie created?
Who said what on Facebook?
Libya, really? 
And since March 11, what is going on in Japan now?
That last one is obviously the most significant, devastating and horrific as the situation goes from horrible to shocking to Oh My God, please give those people there a chance to begin recovering.

And when I'm not being horrified by world events, amused (and horrified) by boys and first dates, working, and now paddling, I've been considering release - both as a concept and an action.

They say it isn't good to hold on to old hurts, to people who have moved on, and just in general as a matter of letting go. There's the heart breaking kind like a friend's dad who recently died. It takes a mourning and a remembering but still eventually, there's a letting go that does eventually occur - often even if we don't want it to.

Or the kind of letting go what should have happened a long time ago. Instead, anger has burned low and steady in me since and I forgot. I forgot the energy it takes to keep that up. I forgot that you can't move forward while those ties still bind. I forgot the simple fact that just because I let it go so I can move on - that it doesn't mean I've forgotten.

That kind of release.
The funny thing is that even as I try to let it go and move forward, I have doubts that I'm truly doing so. And it isn't as easy as you'd think. With old hurts and current anger that rises up as reminders rear their head occasionally. But I realize now that in order to win (not that life is a competition), I need to let it go and sail forward without anything holding me back.

And in the meantime, I'll continue to be distracted by things that keep my thoughts off too much introspection. Clearly it doesn't make for strong blog writing, for me anyways as it's vague at best. So instead I focus on the giant earthquake/tsunami/nuclear reactor trifecta that has been unfolding in Japan. Or the flooded streets back home from all the recent rains. Or the boy(s) who email/text/call occasionally. And of course all of the great family/friends/events that my life holds. Those are enough to keep me busy moving forward for a long, long time.
And for that, I am extremely happy.