It’s All About the Journey

Margo and Pam

Margo and Pam after a marathon

(A continuation from last week’s post from 2013)

Last week, I left you hanging with my tale of Pam and Margo, my exercise-fiend friends. If you didn’t catch that one, I recommend you go back and read it so you’ll know where I’m heading with this one.

I tried to convey just how talented these gals are: they can (and do) literally run for hours and barely break a sweat. They leave swimmers in the wake of their powerful strokes and pass other bicyclists in the dust with hardly any effort. In other words, I’m jealous. Continue reading

Super-Human Friends

Margo and Pam

Margo and Pam

(An encore post from 2013)

My two exercise buddies, Pam and Margo, trained with me a while ago for a sprint triathlon. We spent months preparing for the half-mile open water swim, 15-mile bike and 4-mile run.

All this, mind you, is done consecutively; not on different days, like normal people would do. And to top it off, we are expected to do it all within a couple hours or risk getting passed by the 95-year-old who’s in her 70th consecutive sprint-tri. Continue reading

A Leap of Faith

This post was written a few years back, so long ago you know you don’t remember it, do you? That’s okay. My memory sucks too. So this will be just like new to  you (and me!).

While my three friends and I huddled on the cold steel floor of the single engine Cessna, I struggled to remember what possessed me to want to hurl myself from an airborne metal tube.

Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not crazy. At least I think I’m not. But still, I seriously questioned my sanity while checking my parachute pack for the tenth time. My curiosity was not based on its technical construction but simply to confirm that it was still on my back. Continue reading

The Way We Were

albert park4

Last week some friends and I attended my godson’s baseball game (an independent professional team) at Albert Park in San Rafael. Being there was a trip down memory lane. Thirty-one years ago these same friends and I stepped off the adjoining field for the last time after playing fast-pitch softball for 10 years. When we formed the team I was the old lady of the group at age 20. Little did we know then what fun times awaited.

fun ahead

Sitting there watching Martin play brought back many fond memories. Insert music here: Memories, light the corners of my mind, misty water-colored memories of the way we were. Okay, enough of that. Suffice to say those 10 years together stretched into 40. And we’re still going strong.

blog photo2

A few of the originals

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Something Is Wrong With Me

I’ve been playing competitive team tennis for 30 years now. Whew…that’s an awful long time, isn’t it? But here’s the thing; something is wrong with me.what's wrong with meNow don’t get me wrong. I’m not dying. At least I don’t think so. I am behind on scheduling my annual checkup though, so until that happens, I can’t say definitively that I’m not dying.get my checkupAnyway, I digress…for those of you who know me, you won’t argue that something is wrong with me. I don’t mean I see dead people or anything. But wouldn’t that be awesome? I’d love to visit with my family who’ve passed on, maybe even meet Mark Twain, Jane Goodall or Einstein. Scratch that last one; I probably wouldn’t understand a word he’s saying. There I go digressing again…

Say what?!

Say what?!

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