Things I've Learned from LuLu this summer

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism # 30: Who’d of thought that getting back on a bike after all these years would be so fun. Goes to show you should never let the Cowgirl rule the roost.

Summer is gone where I live. Temps dipping near the 30s at night. Highs during the days in the 60s or less. It’s officially autumn. What that means to me is that my biking wear changes somewhat. Gone are the capris and the sun visor out come the sweatpants… and the wool hat, the heavy sweatshirt, socks and sometimes gloves. But I love riding in this weather. It feels different, smells different and it makes me pedal a little faster.

The end of summer also makes me reflect on the things I’ve learned for my LuLu during these carefree days. This summer LuLu has taught me:

~ to spit and not splat on myself (never could do that before)

~ there is no comfortable bike seat

~ flip flops make for horrible biking shoes

~ think about how far you ride, you have to ride the same distance back

~ which way the wind blows does matter

~ bugs taste bad

~ roosters can run … fast

~ if you have a hole in your pants, don’t get off your bike

~ just because you ride 12 miles in one day doesn’t mean you’ll lose 12 lbs

~ the first rotation of the pedal leads to the second

~ life is not a race, it’s a slow steady cruise

~ you’ll only find out if you can do something if you try

~ doing your personal best is its own reward

~ and… blessings come packaged in all kinds of surprises, even pink bikes

Hope your summer was everything you had hoped.

Love you guys,

deb

Pedaling Makes The Mind Go Round

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism #29: To quiet the head, stop talking, stop forcing, stop trying to tell it what to do. You know, stop acting like your mother. (Just kidding… I love you, Mom.)

So, I’m riding LuLu Saturday morning when all of a sudden it hits me. You see I’ve started a new book- my fifth. Two have been published. One is sitting in a drawer waiting for major rewrites. It was my ‘starter novel’. One is on an agent’s desk waiting for me to get started on some rewrites. And, now, I’m working on a new one. I was about 7,000 words into this new book, but I had a false start. I couldn’t seem to get my storyline clear in my head, or my characters, or voice or anything. I was struggling… until LuLu.

I’m riding up a little hill Saturday morning and I don’t even notice the lovely landscape around me. I’m mumbling and sorting my thoughts when suddenly, everything falls into place. I hear my character’s voice. I know my first line and I think I even know the last line off the book (which will be written many, many months from now). I did it, with the help of LuLu.

I started out my bike ride with this clouded notion and jumbled thoughts, but the more I pedaled and the more distance I put between me and my computer, the words came. The story started to reveal itself.

I love writing. I love telling a good story. I’ve tried to stop a few times, thinking it a big waste of time. But, I can’t seem not to write. It is as much a part of me as eating chocolate or decorating the Christmas tree. I will never stop doing those things. They give me too much pleasure. Writing is depleting and hard. After a day of struggling to put just the right words on the paper (or computer screen these days), my brain feels like I’ve fried it on the sidewalk on a hot, sweltering day. Yet, I feel so complete, happy and ready to do it all again the next day.

Some days, the words have to be pulled out of me like I’m sadistic dentist with pliers. Other days, they just flow out of me like I’m taking dictation from a nonstop talker. On those days have a hard time keeping up as my fingers fly over the keyboard. Those are good days.

LuLu has become my think tank so to speak. Riding her clears the head of clutter—pushes it aside and makes way for a stream of consciousness that has been extremely beneficial these last few months. I highly recommend it. In fact, I’m thinking of writing our President and telling him if he wants to solve our country’s ills he need to get himself a pink bike… and soon.

Need to work some thing’s out? Leave the house. Ride a bike.

See you, Thursday.

deb

GOOD STOCK

Photos: (above) Some of my good stock- my mom at the World's Longest Yard Sale. (below) LuLu's Grandma Schwinn at the yard sale.

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism #28: If you catch yourselves looking and acting like your mother at the odd moment, God bless you. It must mean you’re doing something right.

In early August my mom and I checked off something on our bucket list: the World’s Longest Yard Sale all along highway 127- six hundred and seventy-five miles of junk and treasure. From Gadsden, Alabama to Hudson, Michigan, you can buy anything from a butter urn to a 1945 Ford pick up truck with its original three-speed transmission. Or, if you’re lucky, a push mower welded onto a bicycle (No lying).

Mom and I didn’t drive the whole 675 miles, but we did get in a mile or two before we had to move on. I’m telling you this because on one of our stops, I ran into LuLu’s grandmother. I was looking at some vintage stained glass windows sitting next to a six-foot wooden Indian when I look to my left and got the chills. There she was, Grandma Schwinn, kickstand down, original fat tires and some killer fenders. She was quite a looker. Not bad for an old gal. If I had not of had my own sweet LuLu waiting for me at home, Grandma would have come home with me.

Seeing the stock that LuLu had come from gave me an odd sort of pride. Grandma was the prototype, the first of her kind. She was made well, and if she could have talked, I’m sure she would have told me stories about all the folks who had had great adventures while pushing her pedals around town.

It got me to thinking about the stock I come from. Lots of hardy women, intelligent women, true matriarchs that held families together, pinched pennies, baked from scratched, hung sheets on the line, and knew what to do with a washboard. They were women who raised children to be virtuous, pushed their husbands to be their better selves, and canned and pickled any vegetable they could get their hands on. Their families wore clean clothes, never went hungry and were always tucked in at night. These women were the first ones up and the last ones to bed.

Good stock. I thank God for the legacy the women in my family have given me. And, I’m thinking LuLu is probably just as proud of Grandma Schwinn.

If you come from good stock, you’ve got something extra to thank God for tonight. Don’t forget.

Later,

deb

Three Women

Photos: (top) Erin and my son, Nathan with grandson, Cormac. Little Cian was to be born a few months later. (Bottom) Sarah and my son, Matthew with granddaughters, Paisly, Zella and twins, Kasia & Isamae.

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-ism #27: Family, God's lesson in love... and peanut butter hand prints on your patio doors.

I’m late in posting, I know. Good thing I’m not getting paid for blogging, huh? Just think of it like your trash pick up. I don’t know about your area, but when holidays happen, our garbage man comes a day late.

Labor Day was such fun around the Cleveland household. Grandchildren and children filled the house and yard with beautiful noise and lots of activity. My kitchen floor is sticking to my feet this morning and there are not clean towels to be had. But such is love.

One of my favorite memories of the weekend, of course, has to do with LuLu. My daughters-in-law are into jogging these days. So, LuLu and I tagged along Monday morning for a six-mile jog/bike ride. Here in the North, fall has arrived, and on that morning was this cool, crisp light air that made all three us of think we could probably jog further and bike further than we really could. So off we went.

I love these young women. Both of them have blessed and added to this family beauty, grace, and fun. They are part of my reward for having to raise boys. God had mercy on me and one day said, “She’s done enough, let’s reward her for all the burping and tooting at the dinner table she had to endure all those years.” Thus, I have Sarah and Erin.

So, they’re running. I’m biking. We talked and encouraged and kept moving. Sometimes, I’d let the downside of a little hill take me ahead of them a bit, and stand on my pedals to allow the Cowgirl some breathing room. Then, every once in a while, Sarah would dart out in front in a fast jog to stretch out her legs (she’s been jogging seriously for over a year), and, Erin, who just had her second baby a few months ago, kept a steady pace and was determined to make this run her personal best.

Simple. Three women. Laughter. Quiet Talk. A family. It is these moments that color my life with a brilliance I don’t deserve, never expected, but am so honored, touched, and humbled to be experiencing.

I hope your day was as joy-filled.

Later,

deb

“It could be nothing.”

PHOTO: Gary and I have been in the ring working out. We're ready for the next fight.

THE LULU CHRONICLES

So, the day didn’t turn out like we’d planned. We were just running to Mayo for a 24-hour period to get Gary’s three-month PET scan and hear that all is well and then back home to get ready for a Memorial Day celebration with our kids and grandkids. However, how does that line in the old John Lennon song go: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” Or something like that.

I could tell by the way Dr. Quevado was squinting at the PET scan on his computer that things weren’t right. He’s a nice guy, an excellent doctor and has treated us extremely well. “It could be nothing,” he said.

I hate those words. I’ve heard them too many times in the last year and a half, and the IT has always turned out to be something. The first time I heard those words, IT turned out to be a rare form of melanoma. The next time, the IT was cancer in the lymph nodes. The next time, IT was a raging infection where the cancerous lymph nodes had been. And, now? The IT is a small black dot on a PET scan on the back of Gary’s leg. So, forgive me if those words give me no comfort.

I’ll tell you what does give me comfort though… the twenty or so emails and Facebook messages we’ve received in the last four or five hours that are filled with encouraging words, prayers, and promise of prayers; the squadron of folks back home who are standing at the ready with anything we need, whether it be a casserole, a hug or just a hand clasped in mine.

You know what else gives me comfort? I’m writing this in our little room at the House of Compassion only a few blocks from Mayo. Gary and I are lying on our bed. Every once in a while, we’ll take the other’s hand for a moment or two. He’s got his earphones on and listening to a TED Talk on his ipad. It’s a nice distraction for him. I’m writing to you, it’s a nice distraction for me. But that isn’t the what else I mean The what else is that in this little room amidst our individual distraction ploys sits our Father, God. He’s at the foot of our bed. His presence is as real as to me as Gary’s. I’m pretty sure the angel, Gabrielle, is over in the chair on my left. And, the mighty warrior angel, Michael, is across the room guarding the door. Dear ones, that gives me peace that passes understanding. I don’t know what the biopsy will show in a couple of days, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Because whatever that “it could be nothing” turns out to be, a whole crowd will walk with us down the path. Some will be just ordinary, but precious humans, and some will be the Holy of Holies. We’re in good hands anyway you look at it.

Later,

deb

I DID IT!

PHOTO: See that big, honking bike seat? I conquered it! Fifteen miles, baby!

THE LULU CHRONICLES

Sorry, I’m a little late posting the blog. I have a good excuse though. Gary and I are heading off to Mayo Clinic in Rochester for his three-month PET scan this morning. As many of you know, my husband was diagnosed with a rare form of melanoma last year. However, the good news is that since his surgery, he’s been cancer-free for a year now. We just have to take a little jaunt to Mayo every few months so they can keep an eye on him.

Now, on to the exciting news. I did it! Yesterday morning LuLu and I took our first fifteen-mile bike ride! After four months, I was finally able to overcome the cold, wind, heat, weird furry animals and a whiny cowgirl and reach my goal of riding LuLu for fifteen straight miles. By the time we pedaled our way back up the driveway, two hours later, the cowgirl was giving me the silent treatment (which was fine with me), however, the Fake Knee and the Good Knee were griping out the wahzoo. Nonetheless, I did it! Fifteen Miles and I’ve lived to tell about it.

Yeah, I know, a fifteen-mile bike ride is no big deal, but for a middle-aged gal (remember, I plan on living until I’m 120 years old) it is a real feeling of accomplishment.

I’ve had more important goals, more fun goals, and more creative goals in my life. But, this one was a real challenge. I had to overcome some health issues such as a Fake Knee and a whiny cowgirl, and some mind-over-matter issues like laziness and I’d/rather/be/doing/anything/else/but/this kind of trash talk. It feels great to have met my goal, and except for that twinge in my knee and the need to carry a pillow for the cowgirl to sit on for the next couple of days, I feel wildly good.

So, tell me, have you made any goals lately? Have you reached them? Are you still working on them? What have been your roadblocks and how have your overcome them? Another question I’d like to hear your answer to— why make goals in the first place? Are they a great motivator or do they just set you up for failure? Let me hear from you.

I’ll be in touch when we’re back from Mayo,

deb

BIT BY BIT

THE LULU CHRONICLES

LuLu-sim #26: Quitting is for sissies and we all know what happens to sissies. They grow into lazy, scary little people who live under bridges and grow warts on their noses and... no, wait that's trolls, whatever...

This morning while riding LuLu I found myself looking forward to the end of the ride. It wasn’t a particularly hard ride. I was riding against the wind in parts and that always harder, but the morning sun was out, there was an autumn crispness in the air, I was feeling good, yet, my enthusiasm was waning. I mean I’ve been at this bike-riding thing since April. LuLu isn’t as shiny as she used to be. The cowgirl hated that bike seat as much this morning as she did that very first morning, and well, I’m waning.

What is it about us humans that we can’t sustain our excitement for whatever project we’ve taken on? Why, when the newness wears off, or it gets a little hard, or we get a tad bored, or whatever, we find ourselves wanting to pull away… stop … sit on the couch and eat huge, honking bon bons with gooey caramel centers?

If it’s one think I truly do not like about us frail humans, it is our lack of stick-to-it-tiveness. Is that a word? Our, oh so honed talent of walking away from something when something newer and shiner distracts us, or even more pitiful than that, when we just get lazy and want to quit.

We do that with diets, exercise programs, friendships, marriages, church or commitments of any kind, weeding, or house painting projects where walls are painted but we’ve lost interest before we can get the trim painted (okay, I’m telling on myself on that one). You know what I mean? What do we do about it?

Well, what I want to do is curl up on the couch with a bowl of Moose Tracks ice cream, but what should I do about it? Fight it, that’s what.

I love LuLu. I love the way I feel when I pull into my driveway after a twelve-mile bike ride knowing I did it. I absolutely am in awe of how much better and more functional the Fake Knee is since I started riding LuLu. I love leaving that pesky rooster in the dust when he starts his funny business. I love everything about getting on my bike in the mornings and riding… so why would I give that up? I’m not! I’m gonna fight, friends. I’m going to fight through the desire to skip a day, then two days. I’m going to fight against my lazy nature. I’m going to look for ways to keep it fresh and fun… and I’m going to remember the promise I made to myself to get healthier.

Whatever it is that you’re struggling with to stay on task, to fulfill your commitment to, whether it be some sort of exercise, or a project or even the most important, a precious relationship, fight through it, dear ones. Fight for it. Don’t let it get away from you. Because you’ll lose more than just a healthy habit or a finished project or a relationship, bit by bit, you will lose yourself.

Hang in there… pedal through it.

deb