Visiting the Past.

Slowly, the small room comes into focus. I rub my eyes and roll over on the small cot of a bed, which I’ve been tossing and turning on all night.  My husband lays next to me, crammed up against the wall and I shake my head wondering how we used to share a twin bed comfortably like this back in college. In my rush to book housing for Bucknell Reunion, I forgot to book a double room for myself and Dave, and now we were paying the price. My phone vibrates loudly against the wooden desk and the room is so small I’m able to reach my arm across the floor and grab my phone while staying sprawled in bed. There’s a slight ache in my head and my throat feels incredibly dry.  It’s an odd familiarity, this situation – the feeling as if I have done this same act plenty of times before. That’s when I realize it – I’m hungover.

The text messages are from Erin.  Are we riding or what? I’ve been on the trainer since 6 AM. 

The last thing I trust myself doing is navigating my little road bike on the rainy roads outside but I enthusiastically reply yes! anyways. After all, we’re at Bucknell. And riding the old country roads we used to race down five years ago is so enticing I can’t pass the opportunity up. It takes about 25 minutes for me to pull myself together. Before I know it, Erin and I are standing in the narrow hallway outside my dorm room with our bikes, getting ready to head out for our ride. The hall even smells like my time at college.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask.

“Like shit,” Erin replies, “If we ever come back for Reunion weekend again, we are NOT staying in the dorms.”

I nod my head in agreement and try to get myself to focus on anything other than my headache. Because of lyme treatment, it’s been close to eight months since I’ve come anywhere near to being tipsy, let alone drunk.

“I’m not feeling the greatest so I don’t know how this ride is going to go,” I admit to Erin, “I’m definitely hungover. Or still drunk. I don’t know.”

“Ah. Bucknell,” is all Erin says in response, a smile on her face as she begins wheeling her bike toward the door.  It’s a simple reply, but it’s perfect. There are no other words and it is the perfect explanation.

It’s a chilly, wet morning but the rain has stopped. I shiver for the first ten minutes of the ride until we cross the Susquehanna river and begin hauling hard down the road. Everything clicks. I feel like I have been thrown back into time as we pass farm after farm on our left and catch glimpses of the susquehanna through the heavy tree-line on the right. Water from Erin’s back wheel sprays up into my face and I try not to panic about riding on wet roads when I can’t even remember the last time I took my bike out at home on a dry road, NOT hungover. But as we turn off the main road and disappear along the small country roads, I find myself unable to stop smiling. I feel at home. Free and happy.

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We begin climbing. Erin easily leaves me behind on the hill as I huff and puff, switching through my gears and hopping out of the saddle – trying anything to get myself to the top.   I’m reminded how badly out of cycling shape I am, especially compared to my days at Bucknell when I used to be the one to leave Erin behind. But when I get to the top, Erin and I both stop and look out quietly at the valley before us. Fog sweeps through the farmland and the rolling hills of the Appalachian range surround us. My heart swells. This is where I fell in love with cycling as a student. And I find it happening all over again.

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Going back to Bucknell was a lot like going back in time. While there are definitely changes to campus, most of it looks the same to when I was a student, and upon arrival, Erin and I fell into a similar routine as one we would have had as seniors. After checking in, we threw our belongings into our dorm rooms and immediately headed out for a run. We ran down the quiet roads we used to run every day at school, whether for xc practice or for our own solace. I had forgotten about how peaceful the roads are, how hilly they are, and how satisfying it felt to leave the busy city-life behind. Ten miles later, when Erin and I were sated from re-exploring our old stomping grounds, we showered, got dressed up and headed out for a drink. Just like we would have five years ago.

I have so many amazing memories from my time at Bucknell. My life changed there and what I learned helped shape the person I am today. I met my husband. I met some of the best friends I have in my life today, and I learned how to have a voice for myself. But most importantly, I learned how to love myself. When I first got to Bucknell in August 2008, I was not a healthy person and I wasn’t living life. But after being at school for a few months, I wanted to make a change. Bucknell and some of the people I met helped me see how beautiful life is, and helped me want to be a part of it again. And for that, I am forever grateful.

And while I have these great memories from Bucknell and had a wonderful transformation, not everything was perfect. So, as Erin and I stood on the Sojka Lawn at our welcome back reception, we were acutely aware of how alone we were. Many familiar faces floated past as we huddled next together sipping our drinks, but no one from all our small network was present. Most of Erin’s friends were in the geology department and couldn’t make it back. Most of my friends were on the cross country team or Dave’s year, and also couldn’t make it back. Fraternity and sorority life at Bucknell is enormous, and we watched as these brothers and sisters congregated together in the same exact groups I used to see mill around campus. Erin and I never joined a sorority. For a moment, I realized what it felt like to be on the outside again.

It wasn’t until the next day after Erin and I finished our fateful bike ride did we catch up with some friends. Erin and I walked around campus to see the new buildings and I revisited the track I plan to finish my 57 mile run on in November. There was a lot of, “remember this…” and “remember that…” as familiar sights evoked vibrant and often funny memories at school. There were also a lot of, “I miss this.”

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Toward the end of my senior year, I couldn’t wait to graduate and get into the “real world.” I wanted to leave because after Dave graduated, I felt isolated from the cross country and track team, and struggled to make any other friends. Standing on campus during reunion weekend, I realized I had no idea how good we had it, and how I should have cherished every second there.

Dave, Erin and I watched the sunset on the quad that evening, sipping wine as the blue sky melted into hues of yellow and pink along the mountain range. I didn’t want to leave the next day. I felt safe. Happy. How had it been five years already? We spent the rest of the night dancing and drinking like we were students again.

The next day Erin and I woke up early, loaded the bikes onto the back of my car, and headed back to DC. As we drove through campus one final time, I felt sad to be leaving. There were so many times as a student I hopped into my car and blew through campus, leaving it behind like it was nothing. But only now that I’ve graduated and been in this real world for five years, do I realize how naive I was during these times. Waiting to turn onto Route 15, I took a final glance at Rooke Chapel in the rearview mirror. It’d be months before I heard those bells ring again. But it was okay, because I at least knew I’d be back.

All in all, I’m happy I went back for reunion weekend. I’ve been in a funk lately, but being back at Bucknell helped me work through a lot of questions floating around my mind lately. I’m gaining motivation for my run again and inspiration for my writing. It’s baby steps. Sometimes, it’s nice to revisit the past so you can remember what made you the way you are today, and help you realize the only way to stay strong is to keep fighting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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WHY IS IT ALREADY JULY?

I’ve been feeling super blah lately, so I’m very excited to be headed to Oregon next week for the Olympic Track & Field Trials.  It’s so nice for me to escape and try to forget everything going on for a little bit.  I’ll be seeing plenty of old friends from high school as we gather for this fantastic event, and some of my college friends are coming out to Oregon with us as well, so I know things are in the making for a great time.  I’m bringing my hoop, my running shoes, and my GoPro.  We’ll see what happens.

And about those test results.  My doctor called me back last week with my endoscopy biopsy results and I think I’m more confused than I was without her call.  The pathology report showed “chronic and focal acute inflammation and intestinal metaplasia.”

It’s the metaplasia bothering me.  Why are my cells changing?  How is it prevented?  Can we make it stop?  I asked all these questions but didn’t receive an answer.  Instead I felt chastised for not starting the medicine she gave me weeks ago for acid reflux (which I HARDLY ever get and why I did not start the medicine).  So she scared me into starting it and I can happily report so far, the medicine hasn’t done one. damn. thing.  And why would it?  But I’ll keep on swallowing those stupid pills until I see her in the end of July just for the sake of telling her I definitely tried, and it doesn’t work ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

My stomach has been particularly bitchy this week and the joint pain in my knees is ridiculous.  It’s making training a little difficult but I’m dealing.  I would have loved to go for a run this morning but not only is my stomach so upset I don’t dare step out onto the road, but my knees feel swollen and stiff.  I’m hoping I’ll feel better by the end of the day and I can go for a little run on the treadmill.

As for my training – I really need to start focusing on my Ragnar in August.  I racked up 17.5 miles of running last week and about 17 miles the week before so I’m well on my way of rebuilding my base.  I was around 35 miles a week before my injury and I’m definitely going to take it slow and focus on getting quality cross training in as supplement to my lack of mileage.  I’m hoping for right around 18 miles this week but I guess it all depends on if I can get out for a run today and one this weekend.

Right now, cross training for me looks like some longer rides on my bike, some shorter rides to and from work, hitting up the elliptical, and rowing on the erg.  I’ve been doing things sort of sporadically because I’ve been feeling so ill but if I have any hope for my fall racing season I really need to get things under control.  Fast.

I can’t believe it’s July 1 today and I want to take some time to focus my goals.  If I can get a solid month of training in, I’ll feel way more ready for my ragnar relay, and then it’s on to focusing on some more speed for my fall half marathon and 10 miler.  I’ve let dealing with my health issues consume me, and since it seems I’ve hit another dead end I’m just going to push those worries to the side and start truly focusing on my running again.  So, for this month I’d love for my training to start looking something like this:

(1) Crosstrain 3X a week – one hard bike workout per week.
(2) Take one fantastical FULL rest day.  Don’t do a damn thing except enjoy myself.
(3) Run 4X a week.  (I’m not going to set any workout goals yet.  Don’t feel like destroying myself)
(4) Strengthen 2-3X a week.  I SO NEED TO DO THIS.  Core strength is so important for runners and I can’t remember the last time I even did a plank or a sit-up.  Strengthening will be important to keeping myself healthy.

I think this is an excellent recipe for success for me, but if not, I’m always willing to adjust.

Other than all of that…not much else going on.  After I finished one particularly difficult chapter I haven’t touched my writing again.  Frankly, I’m starting to piss myself off.  I’m going to get to it this weekend (I MUST) because I have nothing better to do.  I’ll just be working and writing.  That’s the dream.

Maybe I can pull together a more creative-writing-ish post soon.  I’m sure Oregon will be inspiring enough for me :).