Happy Holidays

I love this time of year.

Oh sure, I could do without all the snow. And the lead up to the holidays is hectic. Please don't get me started about the madness of drivers around the mall!

But that is all behind us now. That is, unless you need to return that sweater from your auntie. If you do, please know that there is a special place for people like you today.

I'm pretty lucky. I don't have any returns to make. Then again, my auntie doesn't send me anything...hmmm...wait a minute...d'oh!

"Seriously now," you say.
You're right, I digress.

The holidays are a wonderful time to relax and enjoy spending time with family. It warms my heart and feeds my soul to be with family and friends this time of year. And that is exactly what we did. After we got over the flu. Yep, the little flu bug thought it kind enough to visit us. The little fella was like a bad guest, and overstayed its welcome by three days.

"Please, spare us the details," you implore.

I'll spare you the details. "Whew."

It finally left our house in time to enjoy the holidays. I'll spare you the details of our holidays. Personally, I like hearing how friends spend their holidays. Mostly, I like hearing the family traditions. But...well...ummm...not too many people, shall we say, share my feelings. "Whew, dodged another bullet!"

But, if you'd like to share yours, I'd love to hear about them. If you're so inclined, post a comment about your family traditions. I'd love to hear about them. If you'd rather post a note about the traffic problems around the mall, go find another blog.

I hope that your holiday season is spent relaxing with family and loved ones. If for some reason you can't be with your loved ones, please know that my family and I are thinking of you. And reminding ourselves how lucky we are to have friends like you.

Who are you?

I don't know that anyone would confuse me with being creative.

Funny? Sure. Goofy? You bet. But creative? That's a stretch.

Given the chance, I'd probably eat the same thing for breakfast and lunch every day. Come to think of it, I DO eat the same thing for breakfast every day.

My idea of being creative is, maybe, mowing the lawn in the opposite direction than I normally mow. Seriously, there's not much creativity to be found here.

But I have some creative friends. One in particular recently caught my attention: Camille Claudel.

I don't know anyone named Camille Claudel. And yet, a donation was made in her name to my account. If you know me at all, you know by now that I need to know where to send the thank you card. So, I looked in the usual locations for Camille's name.

I checked my Outlook contacts, business cards, Holiday card mailing list, school registry. No luck.

I checked the city's employee list. There is an employee that shares the last name. But, his first name isn't Camille. And he doesn't cross-dress (not that there's anything wrong with that!).

So, now I'm perplexed. And a little nervous. Nervous along the lines of wondering if I need a PPO against this "suspicious person." Until I did a Google search. You gotta love Google.

It turns out that Camille Claudel is a pretty famous art student of a particularly famous artist named Auguste Rodin. Doesn't ring a bell? Don't worry, it didn't for me either...not at first.

Until a friend pointed out to me that my picture from the first blog of the new season looks strikingly similar to Rodin's "The Thinker."

I told you I'm not creative. Nor, it turns out, very smart.

But I am smart enough to know that the real Camille Claudel didn't make the donation. She passed away some time ago. So, who is this Camille Claudel?

It is taking me some time to put things together. But I think I have some ideas:

It could be one of my students from UM-Dearborn, where I teach as an adjunct professor. I know I shared a story or two during class. So maybe one of them wanted to make a donation, but go unnoticed so not to "unduly influence" their final grade?

Or it could be someone from the Paint Creek Center for the Arts. I've been working with the good people at Paint Creek on a possible partnership for the Old Stone School house. We have some really cool ideas coming together that might lead to an awesome artist community in Troy. I'll probably write about that another time. I know that I mentioned a few things about my training with a few of the Paint Creek board members. Maybe it is one of them?

I may never know who you are. And I may never know the names of the anonymous donors at the grocery store, or during a spin-a-thon, or during a bucket drive. But, know that it means a lot. And know that I am adopting the name of Camille Claudel in honor of you and all anonymous donations, by including the name on the t-shirt that I wear at the race.

Fudge

"Only I didn't say 'Fudge.' I said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the 'F-dash-dash-dash' word!" -Ralphie Parker

I don't know if there has ever been a list of the quintessential Christmas movies ever made.

Oh sure, we're all familiar with "Miracle on 34th Street." And who doesn't watch "It's a Wonderful Life" on Christmas Eve?

To me, they pale in comparison to Ralphie Parker and his "Christmas Story." That movie, in many respects, captures all that is right and *ahem* challenging about the Christmas season.

Our hopes, our dreams, and our disappointments come to life on the silver screen through Ralphie's narration.

The lessons aren't limited to Christmas. Oh, no. I have drawn more lessons from this movie at times I never thought. Or expected.

"Like during Saturday's brick?," you ask. Yes, like during Saturday's brick. You could say that Ralphie and I became one.

This was my first brick session for the season. So, I expected a little bit of a challenge. But not this much of a challenge.

The bike went reasonably well. While the single-leg pedaling was a challenge, I got through it. And the run outside was okay. It was a little cold. But, again, I got through it.

It was after that when the spirit of Ralphie made his appearance.

You see, it turns out that I've been doing brick workouts all wrong. Apparently, I'm not done after riding my bike for 90 minutes and running for 60 minutes. Who knew? Not me, for starters.

After doing all that fun stuff, we go right in to resistance training. Ugggh.

Except I didn't say Ugggh. It sounded a lot like Ugggh. And pretty close to Fudge.

I mean, really? It's not like we're training for an Ironman or anything! Oh, wait, ummm. That's right. We are.

Sorry, Ralphie.

Over? It's Just Beginning

"Over? Did you say 'over'? ... Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?" -Bluto

"Now what?," we pondered after we finished the Nation's Triathlon. We spent every Saturday and most Thursdays together for an entire season. And now we're done?

"Is it really over?"

Pete, Ron and I spent some quality time searching for answers. Ron started another mission project in Africa, and is leading the effort to open a new church in Washtenaw County.

Pete and I weren't as ambitious. Maybe we could spend some time with our children. Maybe even go out on a date or two with our wives.

Respectively, that is. Don't get me wrong, I like Carol and all...Anyhow, I digress.

Pete, Ron, and so many others from the Nation's Triathlon team agreed that we still wanted to be part of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Our race was over, no doubt. But the fight against blood cancers is not. Along the way, we met so many families and friends that shared stories of how this disease has impacted their lives.

You shared stories of brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles that have battled and won. And, in private, you shared stories of loved ones who weren’t so fortunate. It is for you – and our loved ones – that I am joining again with Team in Training to compete in the Gulf Coast Half Ironman Triathlon.

I am not doing this alone. I am buoyed by a great group of teammates. Pete is back. As is Andi Duncan, who teamed with us in Washington DC. In all, there are about a dozen of us that will take on the Half Ironman in May for Team In Training.

I also have the love and support of my family. The kids have already gotten after me, after I missed out on a run.

I have my personal hero, Eric Jones. Some of you got to know Eric through my earlier postings. He still is battling through the after-effects of lymphoma. He's making progress. And he continues to keep an amazingly positive attitude. What stength.

And I have you. I can't thank you enough for your kindness and compassion. Without you, it would make for a long and arduous journey. Knowing that you're by my side, I will be inspired through to the finish line.

Update on Eric

It has been a while since I last made a posting...since the race actually. So, I don't know if you are still checking in on things. But I thought I'd take a chance and post the latest e-mail from AJ:
__________________________________________
Hello well-wishers, candle-lighters, God-prayers and keep-us-in-your-thoughters -

It's time once again for everybody's favorite e-newsletter: What's Wrong with Eric This Week? Well, I'm happy to report that the boy is doing rather well. In fact, his progress has been remarkable. And what do we do when Eric is feeling particularly healthy? We cut him open, of course. And that's just what we're going to do today...

As you'll recall from our last episode, I mentioned that Eric would be having surgery on his left hand to move some tendons and muscles around, unblock some nerves, and generally make that hand more flexible and dexterous. "Hey," you might be saying, "wasn't he supposed to have that surgery a while ago? What the f*$&#@?" Yes, he was. As it turns out, his hand surgeon is a bit of a baby, and decided to postpone the hand surgery a couple weeks until his feet healed. Something about "infection." Baby.

The good news is we're go for surgery today. Surgery will last about four hours at the Hospital for Special Surgery in NYC. They specialize in orthopedics (and replaced his hip back in 2004). He should be home Tuesday or Wednesday.

"And so what's the deal with his feet? What the f*$&#@?" you might be asking.

First of all, watch your language. This is a family newsletter.

The skin grafts on his feet did their grafty-thing and are stuck on there in a very disgusting yet satisfying manner. Foot doctor is very pleased, and Mr. Eric is even allowed to stand up. They gave him some Big Boy Frankenstein Shoes (just in time for Halloween), and if you stop by his house at scheduled times you can see the Amazing Eric actually stand on Two Feet! No flash photography, please.

In further 80-year-old-Eric news, Sue's grandma loaned him an electric wheelchair so he can chase neighborhood cats in his spare time. He was a major attraction at the annual Wagner Ave. Block Party, and could be seen racing up and down the street, delivering beverages and giving rides to his neighbors ($1.50 for five minutes - Ladies Free from 3-6pm).

So, what's next? Well, there's a little spot (about the size of a nickel) on the back of one foot where the graft didn't hold. We tried to fill it in with Hubba Bubba (chewed and unchewed), spackle, wood putty and caulk, but no luck so far. The foot doctor is going to close it sometime after his hand surgery. After that, it's all about the walking. Not sure at this point if he's going to go to a rehab facility for a couple weeks to start walking, or do it all from home. I'll keep you posted.

That's all the news that's fit to print. We're still hoping for Eric to be walking around and wrapping his own presents by Christmas. His patience continues to be superhuman.

Hope you're all doing well.

Don't Stop Believing

"Steve Perry's got nothing on us," I thought to myself.

It was about 11:30 on Saturday night. We were walking through the doors to a bar in Dupont Circle, when we heard Journey's frontman:
Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere...

With glee-filled bombast, my teammates and I belted out:
Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere...

It was a remarkable, if not poignant, end to our weekend together.

We are done with our journey. We all finished our race. Not one stopped believing in ourselves nor one another.

So how was the race?

We couldn't have asked for better weather. Sunny all day. it was about 60 degrees when we reached the transition zone at 6 am. It stayed around there by the time the race started at 8 am. I think it reached 75 degrees by race end.

My age group was split in two and went off as the 3rd and 4th wave (did I mention that I fall in one of the more competitive age groups? lucky me!). I was in the second wave in my age group. As we lined up for the water start, the announcer remarked that the first "elite" wave reached the turnaround buoy in 8 minutes! Yikes.

The countdown starts for my wave, 10...9...8... The horn sounds, and we're off. This is the largest wave start I've every witnessed, and was amazed by the flurry of legs and arms around me.

But I found my spot, and felt great as I moved toward the turnaround buoy. My heart rate was right where I wanted it, and my pace felt good. Darn good, it turns out. I reached the turnaround buoy in under 11 minutes.

Coming back was another story: the sun was coming up past the trees and buildings and casting itself across the water. And we were swimming right in to it! I couldn't see anything before me.

As I came back downstream, I ran into another swimmer who was headed upstream. Then I ran into the first guide kayak...then the second guide kayak. The second kayaker was able to point out the course end, at least. I grabbed the ladder to get out of the water at 25 minutes.

The bike ride was a little more straight forward, thankfully. Although the first two miles set me up for a false sense of success: there was a strong tail wind that I didn't really feel. Until it became a strong head wind when we headed back after reaching the end of the peninsula. That head wind stayed with me for the next 6 miles. And since this was a two lap course, we got to see that wind again!

Really, though, I didn't mind. Sure it slowed me down. But it slowed everyone down. And, frankly, I was pretty happy with my bike time.

That said, I did goof up while on the bike segment. I didn't take in enough fuel. And that would come back to haunt me on the run.

The run started as well as I expected. My legs were feeling a little rubbery from the bike ride. But it usually does coming off from the bike transition. I've been told that it takes about a mile on the run before you begin to feel better. It took about mile.

I was still averaging a 9-minute pace on the run for that first mile. That's kind of where I wanted to to be. I would have liked to have been going faster, but still...

I pretty much settled in to the 9-minute pace through the third mile, when it happened. It caught me.

Not who. Although Pete and Carly from my team had caught and passed me at this point.

It. The Wall. I was told about this wall. I read about this wall. I trained for this wall. But, when it came, I wasn't ready for it.

It wasn't a real wall. That came in the first mile (yes, we ran up temporary stairs to get over a wall!). It was an axiomatic wall.

Frankly, I wish it was a real wall. I got over that two miles earlier. The axiomatic one proved a lot harder.

I pushed on through through to the fourth mile. "Darn it," I muttered, or something close to that. Remember when I said I goofed up on the bike ride? When I said I didn't take in enought fuel? Yep. It caught up to me. I'm toast.

I thought, "I'm gonna look like the guy in the 'agony of defeat' video, who looks like spaghetti as he tries to finish the IronMan."

But as I reached the five-mile marker, I started thinking of you, all my friends and family, and the support you've given me these past six months. I couldn't let you down.

I also couldn't let down Eric. He's been through so much. The least I could do was get through this last mile.

Those thoughts carried me through as I turned on to Pennsylvania Avenue for the last half mile. I'm told that the last half mile is remarkably beautiful, as we first run toward Capitol Hill, and then turn around and race toward the White House.

I didn't see any of that. I didn't really even see my coaches and Team In Training family cheering for me as I made my way up to the finish line. I heard them, and I tried to say thank you. But all I could do was mouth the words I tried to say.

I put on a smile as I crossed the finish line, only for the photographer. Inside I was crying.

Crying because I did it. Crying because you helped me there. Crying because, well, it was over.

While our journey has ended, I don't know that my teammates and I will ever stop believing. Believing in ourselves. Believing in each other. Believing in you. Believing that, one day, we can win the fight against Leukemia and Lymphoma. Together with your help, my teammates and I raised over $88,000 to aid in the fight against blood cancers.

...and I still don't know what to wear!

Two days before I leave, and I have so much to do. Let's see:

1. work today...thanks to BoA, my day is now a bust (read the papers tomorrow).
2. work tonight...the AloeTerra project goes before the Planning Commission.
3. grade papers and answer student questions.
4. check in on Eric...I still haven't had a chance to call him since his surgery.
5. swim one last time...thank goodness that Cranbrook is open late tonight.
6. mow the lawn (in the dark?).
7. work tomorrow...labor negotiations, no less.
8. work tomorrow night.
9. Joe has football practice.
10. run one last time.
11. pick up my dry cleaning.
12. call my parents, and see how my dad is doing (another story for another time).
13. help clean the house.
14. pack for the trip...and I still don't know what to wear.
15. HELP!

I'm a little overloaded this week. Somehow it'll all come together. I just don't know how, yet.

Well, I gotta go...my 10 am conference call just called in.