I TRI... again.

It was one year ago this week… with great fear and trepidation… that I committed to my first-ever Triathlon.  In retrospect, signing up and paying the entry fee was the easiest part of the journey! 

My initial inspiration came from two good friends who live in different states: Kathy in Kansas and Josie in Indiana. Less than a year prior, Kathy and Josie had never met.  I credit their similar interests (biking and physical fitness), values (family first… always), and ME (their common denominator) for developing a strong sense of friendship with each other after just one fun-filled weekend here in KC!

Kathy, an avid biker, completed her first Triathlon in the summer of 2010.  She knew swimming would be her biggest challenge, which now in my "experienced" opinion, would venture to guess is a high percentage of first-timers biggest fears; it certainly was mine!  The 5k presents a higher level of difficulty for Kathy than it does most… she had a hip replaced several years ago and is not able to run it.  But boy is she a speedy walker!  The 10 mile bike course however, piece of cake… that’s usually just a warm-up for her.

Josie grew up in a physically active family, her Dad opened Indy’s beloved ‘Bike Line’ years ago and her family still runs the successful bike store today.  Josie majored in Physical Education at UIPUI and juggled raising 3 kids, teaching, and working at the family business for most of her adult life.  Faced with turning 50 years old a couple of years back… Josie did not like what she saw, and was even more alarmed at where she saw herself going.  Instead of moaning and groaning about it like most of us do, Josie got up off the couch and changed her life!  30 lbs later (and lighter), she too challenged herself to a Triathlon.  She tore that course up and had it not been for a rookie mistake which penalized her, she would have had a USAT certified finish time!  Go Josie, go Josie, go Josie…

Both Kathy and Josie began to subtly nudge me into believing I too could become a Triathlete.  When it was clear to them I would need more than a gentle nudge, full-on bribery became their strategy, coupled with good-ol’-fashioned guilt! 

Suffice it to say I cave easily when there is a party and good friends involved in the payoff.  Josie promised to come to Kansas City and join me.  Kathy, who had thought she was going to be a ‘one and done’ triathlete, committed to doing another one AND she convinced her 70 year old mother-in-law Judy, her incredibly athletic (just-didn’t-know-it-now-is-an-animal) sister-in-law Heidi as well as her rock-star sister Kim, to join me in losing our triathlon virginity.  They also promised me a rockin party afterwards; what can I say… I’m easy that way.

I won’t bore you with the details (again) of my brutal training.  Most of you were subject to a painstaking barrage of Facebook status updates for months regarding my training.  February through April was me moaning about needing to start training. In May, I finally began training, only to get derailed by gallbladder surgery on the 25^th (my 20^th wedding anniversary taboot!), leaving June wide open to have a case of the “Oh poor me’s”!  July was the month I finally got serious… think about that… I basically trained in one month.  It kicked my ass, but I did it.

And that my friends is the segue I’ve been searching for to bring this story to its point.  Completing last year’s Win for KC (all women’s) Triathlon, was hands down the most empowering thing I have ever done for myself.  I had, according to my surgeon, the 5 characteristics most common to women with gallbladder disease: I was fair, female, fat, fertile and forty (fifty in my case!) The “real” me had every reason in the world to doubt my ability to be successful.  But…

Josie believed in me.  Kathy believed in me.  And there was one more person, who unbeknownst to me until the day of the race… so strongly believed in me, that a miracle happened at the finish line.

Jilly, who most of you know as my dear, dear friend diagnosed with Stage 4 metastatic disease a year ago this month, was waiting for me as I crossed over the electronic timer.  There were so many people cheering all of us finishers on; the crowd was truly electrifying.  I was already an emotional mess, a combination of exhaustion and exhilaration, but when I spotted Jill… tears in her eyes approaching me with wide-open arms… I embraced her and kept it together until she spoke these words:

“You inspire me Chrissy, I am so proud of you.  I am going to get better.  I am going to beat this thing.  And I am going to someday complete a Triathlon.”

A truly miraculous change from the way she’d been framing her cancer up to this point.

So here it is again, a mere one week away from sign-up day.  I will always be grateful to Josie and Kathy… they clearly inspired me to believe I could do the impossible.  But it is Jill who is my hero… and the reason I choose, like Kathy, not to be a “one-and-done” triathlete.

We don’t always know who we inspire, and we’re certainly not privy to know why or how; people tend to keep their fears private in our society.  But 5 months of blood, sweat and yes… tears, is nothing to pay in exchange for the opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life.

Inspiration is truly a full-circle phenomenon; by being inspired, we become inspirational.  By being inspirational, someone else becomes inspired.

Jill is holding her own by the way.  She is beautiful, she is strong and she is determined.  And let’s not overlook… inspirational!

If this is your year to be empowered… check out Win for KC Triathlon.  It’s open to 1000 women and sold out in 2 days last year… don’t be late!

Morning Coffee with my Friends…

My mornings could be described as enviable. No longer do I hit the floor running, watching the financial news channels so as to be aware of what awaits me at the office. My kids are at a totally self-sufficient age having left carpool lanes and packed lunches long ago. These days my mornings are quiet and progress at a lazy pace.

For that I am grateful. Not a day goes by that I am not aware of how good I’ve got it. Sure we do with less, but we have so much more. Life has finally exited off the fast lane; no more gerbil cage for me.

I have a ritual in the morning, sometimes it starts as early as 6:30a.m., other days might be as late as 9. I have my coffee.

I love my morning coffee. And I love my friends. When I started combining the two… my mornings became truly peaceful for me. They calm me and prepare me for the day ahead and all it might hold… good and bad. Life is put in perspective during coffee time; I think of my friends and the challenges they may be facing, or I cheer for them from my kitchen table willing them to fulfill their dreams. We all have them, and they are easily lost, especially at the age my friends and I are. Children, jobs, life… can easily cloud our vision. They don’t know it… but they are with me, at my table… and I am listening.

My yellow “Atlanta” mug is from my friend Dini. She brought it back to me when we both lived in Texas and she got away for a few days of fun with Brent. There is absolutely nothing spectacular about this mug except that it is from Dini. We were Starbucks buddies in Texas, much of our together-time centered around coffee. Dini passed away 3 years ago last month; I often choose her mug to enjoy my coffee in, especially on days that might have a special emphasis on her boys. The first day of school I always choose Dini; we chat about how big the boys are getting, how she’d dig on their new haircuts and how proud she would be of Brent… holding them all together. Their lives are happy and good.

The Kansas mug with the tornado on it is for when I have coffee with my sister Toby. It comforts me to know that even though she is over 4000 miles away from me in Ireland, she too may be sipping her morning Joe from the matching mug I sent her last year. I hope to be sipping from it at her kitchen table soon.

“Nothing like buns and coffee to start your day” is on a mug from Robin. It has a picture of cowboys sitting on a fence showing off their perfect cowboy derrières; not a bad way to start your day! Robin is my “gentle” friend, the kind that just makes you want to be a better person.

The blue “General Store” mug is my “feel good” mug. I bought it this summer in Gruene, TX… home of the oldest outdoor honky-tonk in the country. We were on our family reunion (with people who aren’t really our family, not yet at least… wink, wink) and ALL those people make me feel great inside. I look forward to next June when we meet again and one by one we stumble out of bed, grab a cup of Joe and start our visiting all over again.

The earth-toned mug in the back is probably my favorite if forced to choose. It was given to me by a friend of my Dads. It was handmade in Kenya by women who strive to make life a little better for themselves and their families. These women most likely benefited from a micro-loan, which I am a huge fan of, and I cannot sip from this cup and not be transformed for just a moment into their world. How different, how difficult it must be, yet how alike we all are. I want to go there someday. I believe I will.

The mug next to that one is a hoot. It’s from my neighbor Mary who knows me all too well. It says… “Excuse me? Did you talk to me BEFORE I had my coffee?” Sadly, it’s spot on. Most people who know me are aware that I’m not socially acceptable until I have my hands wrapped around a piping hot mug and I’ve enjoyed at least one long slug!

The “Instinet” cup next to that one is the one mug I wish could talk to me. It would have a lot to say. This is the cup I drank from daily when I was in corporate America. My friend Jeanie has a matching one. We used to drop our empty cup by the coffee machine, run for a restroom break and fill it up on the way back to the trading desk. More often than not though… we’d forget the coffee having our latest transaction on the brain. Eventually one would mosey back for a refill and see the other had left theirs behind. Jeanie took hers black; I like a little creamer in mine. We would always come back with 2 cups in our hands, brewed to each other’s liking and no words needed to be exchanged; only a knowing smile. We always had each other’s back when it came to coffee… and life.

The pretty cup with the saucer is a work in progress. I have a friend I met several years ago through our girls playing club volleyball together. We are so different on the outside; she comes from old Kansas City royalty, a blue-blood we might call her. I’m a mutt. We gravitate toward each other for some reason, and both make an effort to stay in each other’s lives, even though there’s no real convenient reason to do so. I am going to see her this afternoon, its VB season again and although Jordie has decided to sit the High School season out, we’re going to watch Kim’s daughter play our school and cheer her on. It was a long summer and Kim goes to her vacation house up north. I crank the a/c up and stay here so we’re a little out of touch. I’m bringing her this pretty cup and saucer today, I have the matching set. Her mornings are a lot like mine except hers are much more productive; spinning classes, volunteerism, raising 4 kids with 3 dogs and a cat (oh and one bird or two?) in it. I hope tomorrow morning to have coffee with her, and she with me. We have a lot to catch up on.

I have other coffee mugs of course. "To go" cups, over-sized cups, pretty yet impractical (it’s all about the feel) cups. But these are the ones I choose when I want to have coffee with my friends.

BTW... if you’re not on my "coffee with friends" list, no worries. I’m starting a collection of wine glasses! Surely you’ll be on it… you know who you are!!!

"To discover what is abnormal…

it is first necessary to know what is normal."

Wow… that sentence could cover a lot of issues; behavior, relationships, habits, heck… even pizza crust!
But in this case, it’s referring to breast tissue and how it relates to breast cancer.

My friend Josie emailed me a few weeks ago to share her enthusiasm for all the good works being done in her home town of Indianapolis to help find the cure to breast cancer. She had participated that weekend as both a volunteer and donor for an event she thought I would also love to volunteer for if given the chance; The Susan G. Komen for the Cure Tissue Bank (KTB) at the IU Simon Cancer Center.

The way I understand it, in 2007, the IUSCC was awarded a $1,000,000 grant by the Susan G. Komen Foundation to help fund their collection of breast tissue from “healthy” women. By “healthy”, they mean without cancer. This was in response to action taken after a 2004 series of meetings in Indy of prominent scientific, medical, industry and advocacy communities. A cancer researcher attending those meetings surmised that a lack of normal breast tissue was a significant impediment to the success of her breast cancer research. It was quickly assumed by some in attendance that even if there was a mechanism for donation in place, and the (unlikely chance) that the review board would approve such a collection, the real question was, quite frankly, “what woman would donate healthy breast tissue?”

It was the advocates, led by Mrs. Connie Rufenbarger who challenged the naysayers by asserting “their unshakable belief that women would donate, they only needed to be asked”.

And answer they did; in just a few short years, the Susan G. Komen Foundation recognized their invaluable work and has supported it with grant monies ever since. Josie was one of those brave women who donated both time and tissue this past June 13th. KTB, she informed me a few days later, will be having another “Tissue Collection Event” on August 8th.

So little ol’ me and my friend Robin, whose own mother Lois is a breast cancer survivor, will board a plane to Indy on Friday August 7th. The KTB is particularly interested in people like Robin and I who are healthy but considered “high risk”. On Saturday they will give us what is equivalent to 3 needle biopsies and remove about two “pea size” amounts of breast tissue from each of us. Josie and her husband Ned will supply us with wine, fresh ice packs and I’m sure lots of laughs that evening before delivering us to the airport for an 8a.m. flight home.

I told Robin I’m a little nervous.
She told me she’s more than a little nervous.
But then I remember TC and my friend Dini’s brave faces every time they got poked, prodded, scanned and downright manipulated.
And I know…

“As a healthy woman, I can contribute to breast cancer research.”

So I will.


To find out how you can participate, go to: https://komentissuebank.iu.edu/home

Addendum (7/22/09)

Apparently my blog was passed on to the powers that be at KBT and I was thrilled to receive personal emails from both Dr. Jill Henry, the Chief Operating Officer who would like to pass it along to the Indy press! And the following words are from Connie Rufenbarger herself:

This just put the biggest smile on my face! It is so wonderful to see our passion shared by wonderful women. We all so want to change history--to not leave this legacy to our daughters. We thought we would find other women warriors--but you never know until it happens. At some point--all of us will be part of something even bigger--we are showing the Powers that Be that we can and will decide what level of giving of ourselves is appropriate. At the present--the ethicists and review boards are guiding our decisions/choices--our collective choice will help them to stand aside and let us make history in all diseases. Ok--I have to get off of my soap box. We are thrilled that you are all coming. Each event is a celebration. I got to do the fat core from my bum last time--since I have saline breasts it was the only way to get one of the pink t-shirts. What we will do for fashion!!!!
I am always on hyper drive at the events--just more excited than is natural--so--please come up and make me stand still and introduce yourself. We have all become great huggers!

How cool is that!!! cb

One Love, One Heart

Let’s get together and feel alright.
(Written and performed by Bob Marley)

She was supposed to be named Bob, after Bob Marley.
She was just 6 weeks old when we brought her home.
Mike and I were newly married and still high from our Jamaican honeymoon.
Reggae music was in our hearts.

Mike resisted getting another dog; we already had Nubi at home, our first golden retriever.
But this pup claimed Mikey’s heart and it was he who named her Ziggy, after Bob Marley’s son.
The name suited her well.

Harmonically, Reggae music is often very simple, and sometimes a whole song will have no more than one or two chords.
Ziggy was simple that way too; in her almost 16 years, she never once went to the vet other than her yearly shots and checkup.

Her strongest trait was loyalty.
When I was pregnant with the kids, she would lie across my belly and protect them.
One day during my first pregnancy, she lay on my belly and whimpered.
She knew before I did, that our baby didn’t make it.
Ziggy never left my side for days after that.

Jordie and Nick have never known life without Ziggy.
Today they start that journey.
Mike and I took her in this morning, when it was clear she could not go on in her deteriorated state.
It was a peaceful transition from life to death for Ziggy; painful beyond words for Mike and I.

Life was good to Ziggy,
Ziggy was good to us.
Now she is in heaven with all of her “Rasta-Furry-an” friends.

We miss you Ziggs.

Before, During & After Willie

Before:
It pains me to admit it took us 6 hours to navigate our 3 hour journey. We missed an exit early on and didn’t notice the error of our ways for 120 miles! Suffice it to say, Robin and Diane, my travel buddies whose ONLY job was to watch for road signs, are on double secret probation from any further road trips of mine until they can prove their road worthiness to me! (Or get a Garmin StreetPilot!)

We finally checked into the Four Season’s around 5pm, ran a quick brush through our hair, exchanged our shorts and flip flops for jeans and boots and headed for The Horny Toad. My face was already feeling the effects of non-stop belly laughing.

During:
Willie, unbeknownst to us, had cancelled his evening performance earlier in the day. This apparently incensed the owner of The Horny Toad, who immediately threatened Willie with a big, fat lawsuit. Having plenty of experience with big, fat lawsuits, Willie wisely came to The Toad and put on a truly killer show. Many of his fans however, had gotten word of his earlier cancellation and stayed away. This was a huge bonus for us, for we got to see Willie Nelson in a very intimate setting.

The bars close at 3am in Missouri…I could tell you more, but then I’d have to kill you!

After:
Today, my jaw is aching; I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. For some unknown reason, I can’t straighten up or walk down the stairs without saying “Ouch, ouch, ouch” with each step. My head is still a bit fuzzy, and I randomly burst out laughing at a weekend flashback.

I did manage however, to surf the internet today and fantasize about my next “Chick Trip”.
It would be wise perhaps, if the next trip I choose has “Spa and Meditation” in the description, rather than “Drinking and Debauchery”!

But on the other hand,
The name on my favorite boat this weekend said it all ...

"Is It Wrong?"

Cause I don't want to be right.

After 8 seconds, you're good.

Cowboys ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold.
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levi's, each night begins a new day.
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young,
He'll prob’ly just ride away.
(Sung by Willie Nelson, Written by Waylon Jennings)

Hold the phone Nelly, the girls and I have a heck of a weekend planned.
We’re headed down to the Lake of the Ozarks to hear Willie Nelson perform Live at a place called The Horny Toad.
(Well…it’s our collective hope that he is still alive!)

Willie’s got to be pushin a thousand years old by now, but to the three of us “40-somethin year olds” he is still the King of Cowboy Cool.
We LOVE us some Willie!

Cowboys like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings.
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night.
And them that don't know him won't like him,
And them that do sometimes won't know how to take him.
He ain't wrong he's just different,
but his pride won't let him, do things to make you think he's right.

We are going to be amongst some cowboys Friday night.
Slow talkin, quick thinking, real, live, authenticated cowboys.
The kind that can hold on for 8 seconds.
And we are three excited, cowboy boot wearing cow-dollies, expecting to two-step our way into the wee hours of the night.

So for you Mamas out there who DID let their babies grow up to be cowboys…
I thank you, my posse thanks you.
Those Wrangler butts drive us nuts!

Some people call it Vacation…

I call it Hell.

Actually, it’s just the prep work that’s hell.
Once we actually get to where we’re going,
It’s pure Heaven.

Friday we leave on our annual trip to Leakey, Texas (Population 387).
It’s in South Texas hill country where the landscape is absolutely gorgeous.
We rent a house on the Frio River with our friends the Gustafson’s.
There is no cell service, no Internet, we do have satellite TV but that’s about it for frills.

We have to bring all our food and drinks for the week; there are few options for securing the few things we inadvertently forget to pack.
There is a small general store with an old fashioned soda fountain, and we can usually find what we need at the gas station in town (including pizza).

Every day is the same.
I wake up leisurely, sit on the deck overlooking the river while consuming massive amounts of coffee and read my book.
One by one the kids wake up and head down to fish or swim.
Gus and Mike make a huge breakfast, Mo goes on her run.

A few hours later, it’s time to head upstream.
We pack up our tubes, our kids and our cooler (overflowing with cold soda’s and adult beverages) and head to one of the many entry points on the river to float back downstream.
Each float takes anywhere from 3 to 6 hours, depending on the entry/exit points we choose.
We stop at deep swim holes along the way and swing from tree ropes.
We rate each other on form and finesse; the longer the float, the more cranberry vodka’s consumed, the less the finesse!
We meet new friends along the way, fellow floaters often trading their choice of beverage for ours.

We’ve learned over the years to have the truck's packed with snacks for the ride back to the house.
We get out of that river famished; each kid has their face buried in a bag of crap all the way home!
Once back, it’s shower time, light the coals on the bar-bi and commence to throwing together a hardy evening meal.

By nightfall, we’ve played some games, watched home movies from trips past, roasted marshmallows for smore’s and told plenty of tall tales.
The kids stay up late as we parents fall one by one into bed for a long nights slumber.

Morning comes early in these parts.
And we get to do it all over again.

See you in about a week!

Reblochon

Mike has a friend Wendy who lives in Billings, Montana.
They grew up together in Beatrice; Wendy’s Mom Sherri was like a surrogate Mom to Mike and remains so even today.

Sherri called Mike yesterday with the exciting news that her granddaughter Sarah, Wendy’s daughter, had made it into the semi-final round of the National Spelling Bee.
This was big stuff!
I immediately tuned in to the live competition being broadcast on ESPN and was blown away by these kids.

Compunctious, corrigenda, affiche, Corrine, rascacio, schuhplattler, laquear, pappardelle and yosenabe were just a few of the words these kids were challenged to spell correctly.

They were extremely poised on live national television as they asked the moderators for definitions, alternate pronunciations and origin of language.
They also cheered each other on with each victory and showed grace and compassion when a competitor went out in a round.

Sarah went out in the 5th round.
After successfully spelling the words campaign, cajolery and tetradactylous, she drew the word “Reblochon”.
She mistakenly spelled it “Reblechon”.

Mike sent Wendy and Sherri the following email this morning:

What kind of Bullshit word is Reblochon? I saw one kid on TV bitching cuz he went out on "Clevis" what a dip-shit, hell I even know how to spell clevis and that's saying something!!! He gets clevis and your kid gets Reblochon, that's crap!!! I hate the French and their precious cheese probably sucks anyway!

Reblochon is a French cheese from the Alps region of Savoie and has been granted the AOC title. Reblochon was first produced in the Thônes and Val d'Arly valleys of the massif des Aravis. Thônes remains the centre of Reblochon production.

Mike

P.S. my spell check when I went to send this e-mail didn't even know how to spell Reblochon. It didn't even have any suggestions.

Well… at least the “kid’s” displayed grace and compassion!!!

Wheeeee!

Actually it’s Wii, the latest in the 7th generation of gaming systems put out by Nintendo.
Now I’m no gamer.
Until Nicholas received “Guitar Hero” for Christmas last year, I haven’t touched a gaming system since Pac Man.
But once I played it, I was hooked for weeks on being a rock star.

This evening, we were over at some friend’s house when they broke out their new Wii.
I was intrigued by the tennis game and decided to give it a shot.
I ruled the court baby!
And I actually broke out into a sweat.
This thing is awesome on so many levels, game on.

Obviously impressed by my natural ability, Pam our hostess, challenged me to a match.
“You’re on” I told her.
But before I could even get up and out of my chair,
She backhanded me right in the schnoz with the controller.
I mean I saw starts man…I just about hit the deck!

I faintly remember back around Christmas time, Nintendo had to put a warning out to hold onto the controllers when playing.
Apparently players were getting a bit over zealous and putting the thing right through the TV.
I’m wondering now as I sit here with my head splitting, my nose throbbing and my teethe aching if I shouldn’t give them a head’s up about this danger as well.

I’m going to bed now with an ice pack on my face.
I can’t wait to wake up in the morning to see if I have a shiner.

Wheeeeee…

Successful Soldiers

Nicholas Robless is a young man of his word.
He said he was going to raise $3000 for children with muscular dystrophy so they too could go to MDA camp this summer, and boy howdy did he!

In fact, Nicholas and his team, The Soldiers of MDA, raised over $5000 by participating in the MDA Ride & Stride in Overland Park this past weekend.
At a cost of $600 per child, eight or maybe even nine kids will have “the funnest week ever” as I heard one little boy describe his camp experience.

Congratulations Nicholas…
You are one awesome kid!

Culinary Craziness

From the perspective of pure caloric intake, this weekend was off the charts!
It began Friday night in Tonganoxie Kansas of all places, with what I had understood was to be a crab boil.
But when we got there, Bubba, who had flown in a couple of dozen fresh Dungeness crabs from Oregon, had decided to prepare them the way he used to eat them as a boy growing up in Washington state.

The guys set up the kitchen table much like they would a workbench out in the shop.
There was every variety of pliers laid out you can think of, several brands of whiskey, beer and of course wine for us gals.
This was a serious crab shucking operation!

As pound after pound of sweet, succulent crab meat was extracted from the crunchy critters, Bubba would assemble what I can only describe as Dungeness Decadence.
Stay with me here and visualize…inhale…dream and drool!

He started with fresh sourdough bread, sliced thick and slathered with garlic butter on both sides.
To that he added a generous pile of crab.
A layer of shredded mozzarella and Cojack was the crowning touch on these culinary delights.

In a piping hot oven, they bubbled, sizzled and smelled like pure pacific ecstasy.
We ate them as fast as he cooked them, never once bothering with any of the side dishes Robin and I had prepared.
A huge, fresh salad was left untouched as if to say, “Go ahead, live large tonight fat asses, you’ll be begging for me tomorrow”.

I think it was on my third bite or so that I actually had a heart cramp.
I paused momentarily, it passed, and I figured “Hmmm, not a bad way to go”!

Good friends, good eats, Good God, did we eat!

The gluttony continued into Saturday with Mike breaking out his mad baking skills (which none of us knew he had!)
A longtime “foodie”, Mike cooks us incredible meals on a regular basis.
He fears no ingredient and I’m convinced the only thing standing between him and greatness is our lousy electric cook top.
But he’s never baked.
Until now.


“Beatty’s Chocolate Cake” which he watched the Barefoot Contessa bake that morning on the food network was his inspiration.
Although “melt-in-your-mouth goodness” was the result, my hope is that he got the “baking bug” out of his system for good.

Between him and Bubba… "I’m going to seed”!

Soldier on Nicholas

Last October, many of you answered the call and opened your hearts and wallets to support my friend Maureen.
With our help, Mo was able to reach her lofty goal of raising $2200 to help find a cure for breast cancer by participating in the Dallas/Ft Worth 3-Day Walk.
It was one of her proudest accomplishments and a truly life changing experience.

We were thrilled when Mo, Gus and their boys stayed over night with us this past Thanksgiving.
It gave us time to catch up and reflect on our crazy lives.

With great emotion, Mo shared with us her experience on the walk which kicked off in a “Big Texas" way at Texas Stadium among thousands of other optimistic walkers.
She shared countless, incredible stories she had heard and often times witnessed along the trail and in the tents late at night as they rested their weary feet.
All this built up to the highly emotional closing ceremony held at the Fort Worth Stock Yards where there wasn’t a dry eye in the house (coral?).

When I asked Mo if she was going to walk again in 2007, she hesitated before answering.
She’d love to, she explained, but she is out of her comfort zone when asking for donations.
Fundraising for Mo it seems, was more difficult than the 60 mile walk itself!

My response to Maureen was simple and simply put.
“You gave US an “opportunity” to help a great cause.
Period.

We all have our favorite charities.
Finding a cure for breast cancer is obviously near and dear to my heart.
We all wish we could give to everyone in need.
But the truth of the matter is we can only stretch a buck so far.
So we pick and choose our charities wisely.

Now here’s the segue… (You knew I had to be going somewhere with all this!)
I present to you, a new (and wise!) “Opportunity”!

Below is a letter from our friend Nicholas Robless.
Please read on:

My name is Nicholas Robless and I have Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. It weakens my muscles over time and because of that, I am now needing a wheelchair to get around. I am a fifth grader at Manchester Park Elementary. I love school, computer games, Playstation games and music! I recently started playing the clarinet in the school band…I enjoy it a lot.

The Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA) has done so much for children like me and families like ours. Most importantly, MDA gives us all hope by not giving up on finding a cure. For me, one of the most incredible things about MDA is its summer camp! Each year, I look forward to being just a “regular kid” at camp (I’ve been going to camp since I was six!)…we get to swim, ride horses, fish, dance, play games, participate in talent shows and just have lots of fun with good friends.

This year, I am so proud to be one of the Team Captains for the 2007 MDA Stride & Ride in Overland Park. My goal is to raise $3000 for MDA, and I know I can only do this with all of your help as Team Members and sponsors. For every $600 raised, we will be able to send a kid to Summer Camp…I’m hopeful that as “Soldiers of MDA” (yes, that’s the name of our Team!), we will be able to send five kids to camp this year! As Team Members, I ask that you set your personal goal and then, in the next few days ask your families, friends, neighbors, and co-workers to help sponsor your walk and help you reach your goal. I know you can do it!

I really appreciate your kindness and generosity, and would like to thank you in advance for joining me in this special event. Just remember that it could be your dollar that helps MDA find a cure! Hope to see you all on March 24, “Soldiers.”

Your Team Captain,
Nicholas

Mike, Jordan, Nicky and I are “On the team”!
We will walk next Saturday and raise funds for the campers.
We would love, if you have any more stretch left in your buck, to give you the opportunity to help us.
“Many hands make light work” Mike’s grandma used to say.
And many small donations can send a kid to camp!

Checks can be made payable to MDA and mailed to 21217 W. 96th Terrace, Lenexa, KS 66220 in care of Nicholas Robless, Team Captain.
Upon request, you will be mailed an MDA Tax Deductible receipt or your cancelled check can serve the same purpose.

As with Maureen, Nicholas did not ask me to share his letter on my blog.
But I like to share a good “Opportunity” when I see one!

Chris

PS. Hey Mo, if you’re out there… I hope you choose to Walk again this year. I know someone who writes a blog and is obviously NOT out of her comfort zone asking for help, maybe I can put in a good word!

Addendum to my post “Ludicrous”

Our friend Coday down in Alabama did his due diligence and found the following link which essentially says this:
The Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act was initially sponsored by Congresswoman Rosa DeLauro in 1997. The bill was never brought to the floor for a vote after its introduction to Congress. It was referred to various congressional committees, where it languished without action until it expired with the end of the 105th Congress.

Rep. DeLauro has since sponsored the bill FOUR MORE TIMES; to the 106th Congress, the 107th Congress, the 108th Congress, and the last attempt was in 2005 to the 109th Congress.

In each case, the bill’s fate was the same; it languished in subcommittee, never being brought to a vote. It will undoubtedly be introduced once again when the 110th Congress is seated in early 2007.

Although most efforts to see this bill passed urge supporters to affix their names to some type of petition, we believe the most effective course of action is for advocates of this legislation to contact their congressional representative(s) directly, by U.S. Mail, telephone, fax or email.
To read the link Coday referred me to in its entirety, click Here.

Initially, I was thrilled (and filled with a small sense of accomplishment) as my mailbox filled up with notes from many of you to tell me that you signed the petition AND asked your friends and family to do the same. At the time… I thought that would be enough. Although I’m sure helpful, it’s clear we need to go one step further and contact our Representative directly to implore that he or she see to it that this bill is finally brought to the floor for a vote.

A hassle? Perhaps. But I hope you feel strongly enough about this issue to spend another 30 seconds of your time on it.

To help you out, I’ve created a link HERE that directs you to a page where you can directly email your Representative regardless of what state you live in.

Again…I thank you!

Chris

Ludicrous

I remember when TC had her double mastectomy a few years ago.
At the time, I was shocked and disturbed that she was discharged from the hospital just 48 hours after major surgery.

Initially, she came home to my house to be cared for.
I was, in retrospect, ill equipped.
TC was in a lot of pain, she had drainage tubes coming out of her, and wounds that needed to be properly dressed.
Thank God, I had two nurse/friends in the neighborhood that I relied heavily on for assistance.

We got through it, but not without (twice) going back to the ER in the first 2 weeks for complications.
TC had good insurance; I cringe to think of those women without any insurance at all.

That was then, this is now.
Tragically, it’s gotten even worse!

I received the following, in the form of an email from my friend Tina.
The issue she raises is very personal for her and her family.
Ironically, Tina’s cousin was also diagnosed with breast cancer within days of TC.
Tina and I faced our fears and concerns together.
That seems like such a long time ago now.
Happily, Tina’s cousin is doing well today.

Please read on and more importantly ACT on.
What the insurance companies are trying to do is a disgrace.
We may or may not be able to stop them.
But we absolutely cannot stop them if we don’t try.
Please cast your vote.From Tina:Subject: Please, take a moment for this one..... It’s gaining momentum but still hasn't pushed through...

And get it to as many people as you can, women and men alike ... it’s been around before, but so worth a second look. (Chrissy, your blog if you wouldn't mind?) ...

Insurance companies are trying to make mastectomies an outpatient procedure ...
Mastectomy Hospital Bill in Congress.

If you know anyone who has had a mastectomy, you may know that there is a lot of discomfort and pain afterwards.
Insurance companies are trying to make mastectomies an outpatient procedure.
Let's give women the chance to recover properly in the hospital for 2 days after surgery.

It takes 2 seconds to do this and is very important... please take the time and do it really quick!
Please send this to everyone in your address book.
If there was ever a time when our voices and choices should be heard, this is one of those times.
If you're receiving this, it's because I think you will take the 30 seconds to go to vote on this issue and send it on to others you know who will do the same.

There's a bill called the Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act which will require insurance companies to cover a minimum 48-hour hospital stay for patients undergoing a mastectomy.
It's about eliminating the "drive-through mastectomy" where women are forced to go home just a few hours after surgery, against the wishes of their doctor, still groggy from anesthesia and sometimes with drainage tubes still attached.

Lifetime Television has put this bill on their web page with a petition drive to show your support.
Last year over half the House signed on.

PLEASE!! Sign the petition by clicking on the web site below.
You need not give more than your name, e-mail and zip code.
Click HERE to urge the end of Drive-Through Mastectomies!This takes about 2 seconds.PLEASE PASS THIS ON to your friends and family, and on behalf of all women… THANKS!

Thank YOU Tina... for taking the lead on this one! cb

Hawk

Larry Lee Hawkins was the name his Mama gave him.
But everyone just called him “Hawk”.

I’ve struggled for words tonight, this being my third attempt to write something meaningful that could possibly do any justice to Hawk’s memory.
But the words don’t come.
Not yet.
I think our wounds are still too fresh.

I can however, share a story with you from today.
I consider it Hawk’s last gift to us.
Maybe it’s all the words needed, to describe the kind of man he was.

We were driving home from his Memorial Service.
It was held up in Beatrice Nebraska, the boys’ hometown.
A difficult day no doubt, it was made even more stressful by the weather.

We knew it was coming; it had been forecasted since last night.
We hit it dead on.
An icy, snowy mix nearly blinded us as Mike navigated the truck south on I-29 towards home.
We were all tired and our nerves were shot.
It was a dangerous combination.

No one was talking much either.
There was no movie in the overhead DVD.
No iPod’s in anyone’s ears.
The kids, and Mike’s Mom who had come along, were just melancholy.
I was a bundle of nerves.

“Look, there’s a hawk!” Mike said suddenly, and pointed to a light pole alongside the highway.
“And there’s another one on that pole” Nick added.
We all looked out the windows and were amazed by what we saw.
As we traveled down the highway, there was a hawk perched on almost every other light pole.

Given the weather conditions, one would think they would be seeking shelter.
Not openly exposing themselves to it.

Call me crazy…but those weren’t just ordinary hawks up on those poles.
They were our “Guardian Hawks”.
Seemingly, they were guiding us home.

I-29 was closed behind us a short time later.
But we made it home safe and grateful.

Grateful to Hawk, who had our back…
One last time.

Home, Home on the Range

Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

I just realized that the 3 Day Walk my friend Mo is participating in next weekend is a camp out!
They walk for 20 miles and then CAMP OUT!
Then they walk another 20 miles the next day and guess what?
They camp out again!
As in “sleep on the ground”!
After a “hard” nights sleep…
They get to walk yet another 20 miles on the final day before going home to their own cozy bed and a well deserved hot bath.

I was already in awe of these ladies and the sacrifice they are making so that we will someday live in a world free of breast cancer.
But camping out?
Wowzer…they’ve just been elevated to rock star status in my book.

Maureen is oh so close to her goal of $2200.
That’s the minimum each participant must raise in order to walk.
If you have a couple of bucks you can spare, please do so here.
Many of you already have and Mo is incredibly grateful.

So next Friday and Saturday nights (Oct 27 & 28), have a glass of wine, soak in the tub and think of Mo and her friend Jennifer, somewhere out there on the great Texas range.
Where God willing… the skies are not cloudy all day.

My friend Mo

If you’re lucky, (like me), you’ve got one or two people in your life that really make a difference.
Unbeknownst to them, they make you kick it up a notch.
By their actions alone, they make you want to be a better person.

My friend Maureen is that special person in my life.
Mo’s legacy will be her good deeds; all done for the love of and loyalty to her friends, family and above all else, God.
I have a gazillion examples of Mo’s good influence on me,
But today I would like to share just one.

I received the following letter in the mail a couple of months ago.
(Another good trait of hers, proper planning!)
I was so touched by it that quite honestly I had to put it aside for a while.
Her letter, in all of its goodness, actually pained me.
I think it was the reality of just having lost Dini to cancer,
And the prospect of a future without TC in it.

But as I read over the letter again today,
I didn’t feel the pain,
I felt the promise.

My thoughts turned to Bobbie, Maureen’s mother-in-law, someone I too love very much.
Bobbie is a Breast Cancer Survivor.
And what Maureen is doing on the 27th of this month,
Is to help ensure that someday soon, every person ever diagnosed with breast cancer will be a survivor like Bobbie.

Mo’s beautifully written letter is below.
She is much too much a lady to have asked me to share it on my blog.
She would not want the fanfare,
But that’s the cost of being friends with a loudmouth like me!
Please read on.

Dear Family and Friends,

I am writing to you with a special opportunity to support a cause that I have a heart for and I believe you do too. On October 27-29, I am going to participate in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk. In 3 days, my sorority sister, Jennifer and I will walk 60 miles and hopefully raise thousands of dollars to help find a cure for breast cancer.

Over the last few years, breast cancer has directly effected many of the people that I care deeply for. I praise God that my mother-in-law Bobbie is a breast cancer survivor and for her I will walk with a special spring in my step. However, a dear friend’s sister is currently fighting the painful battle and for TC I will walk with extra determination. I will walk with respect for the dear ladies like Mrs. Fosness, Cheryl and Claire for whom we had not found a cure in time. I will walk with joy because I can walk and because as most you know I love to walk. When those I care about are hurting or know someone that is hurting I long to help. That is sometimes difficult so I will walk to help in some way.

I am asking that you will prayerfully consider supporting me financially in this effort. In order to participate, I must raise a minimum of $2200 by October 27th. With your help, I am confidant that I can accomplish such a lofty goal. I have enclosed a donation form that includes all the necessary information to contribute and apply it to my account. You may make a donation online at www.The3Day.org or by mail. (Please include my name and Supporter ID number when contributing, it is Maureen Gustafson, 124660958 and I am walking in Dallas/Ft. Worth on Oct. 27-29) Donations need to go directly to the 3Day office for proper recording.

Mathew 11:28-30 says “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest…For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” Max Lucado summarizes this verse this way, “Jesus is saying, “I will walk alongside you. We are yoked together. But I pull the weight and carry the burden.”

It is my desire to help pull a little weight in finding a cure. Your support will mean the world to so many ladies and their precious families. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to contact me at maureengus@comcast.net

With love and appreciation,
Maureen

There is nothing more I can add here except this:

Mo…
I love you.
I thank you,
And I miss you!

cb

I Had Too Much to Drink Last Night…

“If” I remember correctly…
Mike and I committed to a “bicycling trip” this summer with our Indy friends Josie and Ned!
July to be exact.
I can’t stand sitting by a pool in July much less sitting on a 6 inch seat peddling!

Josie says the seat is much easier on your ass if you wear “real” cycling shorts.
Now there’s a visual!!!
She also mentioned a product called “Butt Cream” but I don’t want to go there!

The good news?
We’re cycling the Katy Trail through Herrmann.
Herrmann is Missouri Wine Country!
I hope it’s like Napa where you just go (peddle) from one wine tasting to another.
Something tells me I’ll have too much to drink that night too!

Better yet…maybe it was all a bad dream.

The Pilch

The Pilcher’s have been close friends of ours for close to 13 years.
They are, in a word, a hoot!
Pilch (John) can drink anyone under the table,
And he’s and old sod!
Famous Grouse, a blended Scotch Whiskey, is his cocktail of choice.
Dawn likes her Wine although it does tend to make her a bit loopey.
Pilch merely goes to sleep at 8p.m. each evening…
Dawn can go the distance all night!

The Pilcher’s moved back to his native England last year.
It’s not like things are very different between us.
Our relationship in recent years has been sustained (mostly) via Email;
I just received one today and I got a real chuckle out of it.

It appears that the Pilcher’s went back to Houston in October to visit old friends.
They found that the price of Famous Grouse went down by 4 bucks a bottle since they left!
Apparently the Houston economy misses Pilch as much as we do!

Here’s to ya Pilch!
Cling, cling.

A Beautiful Ending to a Crazy Year

Mike and I hosted an “Open Bar” last night.
Sounds funny, I know.
But since we’re in Kansas City visiting family and friends,
We don’t have access to our own home, so we hosted our party at “The Blue Moose”, a Bar and Grill.
A “Come when you can, Go when you have to” sort of an affair.
We’re all so busy this time of year, commitments overwhelm us and this seemed the perfect solution.

I can’t tell you what a blast we had!
20 or more of our old friends and neighbors showed up,
We laughed, shared old stories and heard new; we just genuinely enjoyed ourselves.
(The abundance of cocktails flowing may have helped some I’m sure.)

But mostly what I realized last night is exactly what is important in life…
Friends.
Quality friends.

So Diane, Doug, Brent and Dini, Mr. Kurtz, Red and Karen, Robin, Shane, Craig Wright, Johnny, Mary and Don, Beth and Dave, Grant, Ludwell, Marti & Barry (we know you tried!), Thank You!
You are the kind of people who make Mike and I want to be better people ourselves!

Have a Beautiful (with just a bit of crazy in it) 2006!
We love you all.