Showing posts with label walk down memory lane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walk down memory lane. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

My Christmas Confession


I’ve been lying to everyone and it’s time to make amends.  You see, when asked about Christmas, I always tell folks I “don’t do” Christmas.  And that’s true.  I don’t celebrate the holiday in a traditional way.  I don’t have family, so I don’t feel obligated to participate in any dreaded family get-togethers.  I haven’t purchased a single gift nor have I mailed even one card.  There are no candles in the window nor carols at the spinet.  And I’ve lived this way for close to two decades. 

But the reality is, I really do love Christmas.  Besides the stress that surrounds the holiday, I have some lovely memories of big family dinners, Christmas Eve midnight mass, our annual Christmas choir concert featuring “O Holy Night,” and Christmas morning with all the grandchildren.  I used to decorate a tree each year and I still have a box of ornaments (in storage) that I collected in the first 30 years of my life.  I used to send out hundreds of Christmas cards.  I used to bake dozens of cookies for family, friends, and co-workers.  I even used to host a Christmas caroling party at my home.  So, what happened?  How did I become the girl who didn’t “do Christmas?”

The transition happened gradually, shortly before I moved to California in 1998.  My grandmother, who had been the anchor of many of our family traditions, passed away.  My father picked up the reins and we started some new traditions without her.  And then my father died.  And then I moved to California.  The first winter I lived here, I travelled home to upstate New York for the holiday.  It was just me, my mother, and my sister (who also used to live in CA).   My other sister had estranged herself from the family, and, as the mother of the only grandchildren in the family, she deprived us of sharing the experience with children.  So we went from a two-day celebration filled with tons of family and friends to a depressing week where my mother didn’t get out of bed, my sister drank 2 bottles of wine each night, and I started to hate the holiday that I had always loved.  Although my mother lived another five years after this, that was my last Christmas in New York.

The following year, I started riding a bicycle.  I hooked up with three other riders (all training for the California AIDS Ride) and we rode together for 4 days over the Christmas holiday.  We called ourselves the “Christmas Orphans.”  We each had a different story, but what we shared was the fact that we were alone for the holidays and that we all rode a bike.  On Christmas morning 1999, we rode a 30-mile route in San Francisco.  We continued to be friends and this ride became a holiday tradition.  Over the years, the other three moved on to other traditions, I continued on, and today marked the 15th Annual Christmas Orphans’ Tour of San Francisco.  In these 15 years, I’ve only missed twice:  once when we cancelled due to torrential rain and wind and once when I was recovering from surgery.

One year, there were only 2 of us on the ride (it was pouring rain).  One year, there were close to 100 riders (thanks to a calendar listing from the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition.  Everyone comes from a different place, many of them with connections to me, and they share the desire to participate in a fun, social ride on Christmas morning.  And, no matter what size the group, we bring smiles to the faces of all who see us, dressed in Santa hats, elf costumes, and riding decorated bikes. 


Alyson + Lorri at the Golden Gate Bridge

The Christmas Orphans’ Tour of San Francisco is a unique ride.  It’s not a long ride, totaling just 29 miles.  It’s not a hard ride, with less than 1,500’ of climbing.  It’s not a fast ride, since we keep the group together (no matter how slow the slowest rider is) and we stop to enjoy the view, take photos, and maybe even have a cup of hot chocolate.  It’s a social ride where old friends and new friends get to see the city in a new way.  On Christmas morning, when everyone else is sitting around their Christmas tree, you can see the random art in the city – the murals and mosaics, the sculpture and the architecture, and, on a clear day like today, the amazing views of the bay, the bridges, and the ocean.

It’s been fascinating for me to see how our beautiful city has changed in the past 15 years.  The infrastructure for bicycles has improved dramatically.  The ballpark was built and has changed names a couple of times.  Parts of the city have been developed while other parts have become less desirable.  I’ve noticed more folks are out and about running, bicycling, surfing, and walking (and today’s beautiful weather definitely contributed to this).  And I still see the homeless, the needy, and the hopeful on street corners and hidden in the nooks and crannies of the city. 

So, my reality is that I DO celebrate Christmas.  And I DO give gifts.  My gift is bringing together random strangers and friends to share in this amazing experience.  I give folks who might be alone the opportunity to spend time with others.  I give folks who don’t celebrate Christmas something to do on a day when many folks are busy with family.  I give myself the opportunity to continue a tradition that has been very meaningful for me.  And the other riders give me the opportunity to share this with them.

It’s amazing to me that I’ve continued this tradition for 15 years.  I don’t think I’ve ever done anything else in my entire life for 15 years.  But then again, I’ve never loved anything or anyone the way I love my bike.  And love is actually what traditions like Christmas are all about.

Merry Christmas, everyone!


The Christmas Orphans at Fisherman's Wharf


Saturday, March 24, 2012

Happy 10th Birthday Velo Girls!

Today marks the 10th anniversary of the very-first Velo Girls ride.  Technically, it was the second ride on our schedule (the first getting rained out on March 10th).  When I launched Velo Girls in 2002, there was no Facebook, no Meetup, and no other sites designed to bring groups of like-minded individuals (in this case women cyclists in northern California) together.  Instead, I built a website, planned a very conservative calendar (2 rides a month) and flooded Craig's List and various newsgroups with the news of this brand new cycling club for women.  Our tagline in 2002 was "Fitness, Friendship, and Fun!"  To my amazement, 46 women showed up for that very-first ride.  The rest is history.

In honor of our birthday, I'm sharing some images of the original "girls in pink."  Which of these do you own?  Do you still wear it?  Which is your favorite?

Happy 10th Birthday to Velo Girls!  May we continue to ride + celebrate 20 years of women's cycling in 2022.


2002 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Lorri Lee Lown




2003 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Lorri Lee Lown

2004 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Voler Team Apparel


2005 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Laura-Anne Sammarco


2006 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Jessica Su



2007 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Sarah Clatterbuck

2008 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Lorri Lee Lown



2009 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Tanya MacNeill


2010 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Bonnie Osborn



2011 Velo Girls club jersey designed by Ingrid McCarty



2012 10th Anniversary Velo Girls club jersey designed by Denise Soultanian

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

cycling symphonic

Little-known fact: I was a pretty darn good musician in a former life. I attended Ithaca College on a full music scholarship. My major was the oboe, but I played all the woodwinds, French horn, mallets, keyboards, and sang. Music was my life -- my everything. I had planned to be a professional oboist with a symphony orchestra. It was a crazy-risky career choice for a girl from a poor, working-class family. But somehow, my parents were very supportive of this goal.

By an odd twist of fate, coupled with a healthy dose of performance anxiety and a case of cold feet, I changed my degree program a couple of times and graduated with a BFA in Theatre Management. That was career #1 for me and I managed professional theatres for the first 13 years of my career. That was also the career that brought me to California back in 1997.

Music is still a HUGE part of my life. I have more than 12,000 songs of all genres in my iTunes library and that doesn't include all the cassette tapes I've never converted or replaced. I listen to music from the moment I awake until the moment I go to sleep. I listen in my home, in my car, in my office, and while I'm sitting on my roof-top deck. It's the soundtrack of my life. But the one place I DON'T listen to music is while I'm riding my bicycle.

When I ride my bike, I want to connect fully with my environment. I want to see, hear, and smell the world around me. I want to unplug from the technology that pervades every waking moment of my life. I want to take myself off the grid, without distractions of phone, text, email, or facebook. I want to immerse myself into the sensory experience of riding my bicycle in the great big wide open world.

The debate of whether or not cyclists should listen to music while riding is in the same league as the Campy/Shimano debate, the Hatfields and the McCoys, or Democrat versus Republican. Cyclists get pretty emotional and passionate in their opinion about this. I'll just suffice to say that in California, the vehicle code (which also governs bicycles) states that you can wear one earbud when riding a bicycle.

When I listen to music, I listen with every part of my brain.....with every part of my being. It actually makes it challenging to focus on certain types of work (like reading and writing) so I have to be very careful how loudly I'm listening to my music and what types of music I listen to. I have a mix called "mindless music" that is comprised of jazz, classical, and other types of music that I won't find myself really listening to (or trying to sing along with). But even then, I realize that I'm easily distracted by the music in the background.

I was listening to a new download tonight -- Peter Gabriel's New Blood (Special Edition) which is superb and you should check it out. I allowed myself the luxury (and distraction) of playing it on my Apple TV through the sound bar on my television (which has phenomenal sound quality). I felt myself being transported into a place of familiarity (with lyrics I remember from 20 years ago) and emotion (with the orchestral + operatic qualities). It was an all-encompassing experience and I wasn't able to keep working.

And, in that moment, I realized that because I get so focused and involved with the music I listen to, it wouldn't be prudent of me to ride while I listen. I can lose myself in music. When I ride I need to focus 100% of my attention on my environment. I need to think about other road users, the terrain, and my own state of physical being. When listening to music, using every bit of gray matter I've got, there's nothing left to be alert and aware when I'm riding.

So yeah, I've always thought I just wanted to escape technology (and that's true), but the reality is that music is such a complete sensory experience for me that there would be nothing left to pedal my bicycle safely.

How about you? Do you listen to music while you ride?


ps -- this image has nothing to do with this blog post but I was searching for related images about music and cycling and the brain and happened upon this happy guy and wanted to share it!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Pesky-derry-do

Ah, Pescadero. One of the classic climbing races in Northern California. I've ridden the Pescadero loop many, many times -- forward, backwards, as part of epic rides -- but somehow I've never put the race on my race calendar. I'm not sure why, since I've raced all the other climbers' races: Wente, Berkeley Hills, Sea Otter......even though I'm not a 100-pound climber-girl.




















This loop was my first "big" ride way back in 1999 -- on my 35-pound 1990 Specialized Hard Rock mountain bike. I even have photos somewhere (hard copies) to commemorate the event. I was training for the California AIDS Ride. I think I'd been riding all of two months at that point. I participated in this particular training ride with my then-boyfriend. Actually, I had broken up with him a few days prior, so he was then my ex-boyfriend. It was an emotional ride for me. I recall at one point, climbing Haskins Hill, crying and feeling so desperate, that I threw my bike in a ditch on the side of the road, sat down, and bawled my eyes out.




















Today I rode the Pescadero loop with one of my coaching clients and her boy. She's considering the race, so we took this opportunity to recon. the course together. Pescadero is a challenging race. The three main climbs are tough at race pace. The grind up 84 will wear you down in the wind unless you can sit on a wheel. And if you can climb with the leaders, you need to be a skilled descender to stick with the pack after the climbs.

But the views, especially on a clear day, are breath-taking.

Enjoy!

ps -- I really miss the flamingo house.