This is “Ride” Up My Alley (sort of): National Bike Month

Hey, I didn’t mean to write about fitness two weeks in a row, but just learned that May is National Bike Month. I feel responsible for passing this news on to you, since I’m obviously a primo cyclist who never has any problems or setbacks on the bike. (Note: I am waving “sarcasm hands.” If you don’t know why, read just about any entry in my “Thoughts on Two Wheels” category.)

Expert or no, I like the idea of a Bike Month. And as a matter of fact, this week is Bike to Work Week–that’s why I’m publishing this post a day earlier, to give you all week to consider commuting by bike. Cycling can be a great transportation option if you’re in the right location. It saves auto fuel and parking hassles, plus gives you an automatic workout.

Some of us, however, don’t benefit much from “Bike to Work.” F’rinstance, I work at my computer in the spare bedroom. Not only would the bike commute be extremely short, it would also be totally flat. I mean, where’s the challenge?

So for me, bicycling is pretty much just a form of exercise. With that in mind, I’ll let this month mark the beginning of training-in-earnest. Brent and I have plans for a couple of organized rallies this summer, plus a cycle touring vacation which I’ll tell you about later.

So I got to wondering… Did you ride bikes when you were a kid? Do any of you still bicycle as adults? As I’ve mentioned before, you don’t have to be a “Category 1” pro racer to get out and enjoy some sunshine and fresh air. If you’re out of shape, cycling around the neighborhood is a low-stress, low-impact way to get moving.

As you go farther afield, you’ll find you get the most out of scenery at bike speeds. Best of all, riding even gives you time to think (assuming you aren’t trying to keep up with a pro racer).

The League of American Bicyclists has lots of Bike Month information and ideas–check out their website. If you don’t ride but think it might be fun, visit them for inspiration.

I hope you can spend some time on a bicycle this month. I’d love to see your story, plans or goals… please share in the comments below!

Thanks for reading!
Tailwinds,
Jan

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Baby Steps to Fitness

Don't laugh.... at least now I can  pick it up with ONE hand!

Don’t laugh…. at least now I can
pick it up with ONE hand!

Two months ago I passed an anniversary that I was too tired to notice until now. Yep, it’d been one year since I joined the Main Street Gym in Midlothian, Texas. Shortly after signing up I met with a trainer who helped me with my form and balance, and suggested I take group classes for overall fitness.

I might as well admit it: my fitness history is a rather checkered one, complete with law enforcement near-misses and an epic Patriotism Fail.

But I digress… let’s check out my performance in the classes themselves.

Class #1: Aquatics
Sure, it started out innocently enough, running around the edge of the pool counter-clockwise. I really got in the groove and felt super strong because of how fast I was striding along.

Then we had to change direction.

Trying to run opposite the current we had created, I morphed from “Power boat” into “Blade of grass floating on a river.”

“Push through that water!” Stephanie yelled. “Push” simply does not happen. I mean, I’m walking but staying in the same place, sort of like Marcel Marceau.

Soon we switched exercises: forcing hand buoys down through the water to abuse strengthen the triceps. Glancing out the pool window, I noticed a guy around my age doing curls with a barbell. He’s pumping iron. I’m pumping styrofoam. Oh, well… baby steps.

Class #2: H.I.R.T.
I knew the name was an acronym for High Intensity Resistance Training, which involves anaerobic (super high heart rate) intervals. I’m a cyclist. I can do intervals… right?

Pfffft. I didn’t know what hit me.

After Anna warmed us up we did lunges with heavy hand weights. “Left leg forward, knees at ninety degrees!” After about four hundred* curl/overhead lift combos followed by seeming hours of pulsing–all on one leg, thank you–it was time to switch sides. So now the right leg was supposed to be in front.
*Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating the count–a little.

Who knew I had arthritis in my right hip?

By the time I dragged my right foot into the same ZIP code as the left, got some feeling back in the thigh and could straighten up, everyone else was halfway through the four hundred curls.

Oh darn, I missed a bunch of curls.

Pulsing went a little better on that side. But we weren’t done–just ready for the first “Interval.”

“Tuck jumps!” Anna yelled. She demonstrated jumping straight up and pulling the knees up until it looks like you’re sitting in a chair for a microsecond before you drop back down to a graceful landing.

Now, I used to be kind of light on my feet, so I leaped into the air with confidence. Before I could even start to pull my knees up my feet were already back on the floor. I figure my “leaps” average about 0.8179 inches in height, ballpark estimate. I switched to jumping jacks. Elementary, I know, but… baby steps.

Next Interval: “Burpees!” I was sorry to learn this exercise bears no resemblance whatever to the seed company. No, it’s more of a plank / pushup / leap-your-feet-forward-into-a-crouch / jump-straight-up-with-hands-pushing-toward-the-ceiling sequence. It works great if you’re young, strong, agile, and have short legs. Me? Not so much. Everyone else did twelve or fifteen Burpees in one minute. I completed two-ish.

Third and last (yay!) Interval: “Mountain Climbers!” This, I can do: You just lean your hands on the floor and let your front end do a plank while your back end sprints in place. Within 45 seconds my heart rate topped 180, so it must be good for me… right? Determined to get in some good hard work, at the 30-second mark I sped up. I almost hyperventilated, but didn’t care because I’d finally found an exercise I could actually accomplish.

All this was more than a year ago. In those first class sessions I felt inadequate and miserable. Yet I haven’t missed a week except when I’ve been out of town. So, why did I keep coming back?

First, I learned the instructors aren’t trying to kill us. They offer modifications to prevent injury, and recommend slowing down if need be.

Second, I got lots of encouragement. Not that I needed much in aquatics. But in H.I.R.T., Anna often comes around and checks our form, praising our efforts. Even as we work hard to improve, she always tells us to be thankful for where we are right now.

Most of all, you know what? I actually have improved! I don’t notice as it’s happening, but one day I realize I can increase my weights or last through a long lifting exercise that I couldn’t finish before.

With a little coaching and determination, I’ve pushed back my boundaries, increased endurance and developed some muscle tone.

And it all started with baby steps.

What about you? Have you taken up a challenge and had to overcome it piece by small piece? What motivates you to push through the discouragement of slow progress? Tell me about it in the comments below.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

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“Flash” [the Donkey], by Rachel Anne Ridge

Photo from Flash’s Facebook page
(link is below)

Time for another look at my bookshelf! This is a bonus post because I wanted to squeeze it in right now, while Flash is hot off the press. Also the book is a great weekend read!

Ridge, Rachel Anne. Flash: The Homeless Donkey Who Taught Me about Life, Faith, and Second Chances. Tyndale Momentum, Tyndale House, Carol Stream, IL, 2015.

First, from the publisher:

Meet Flash: a quirky, unconventional hero with gigantic ears, a deafening bray, a personality as big as Texas, and a story you’ll never forget. It’s the heartwarming true tale of an irrepressible donkey who needed a home–and forever changed a family.

My turn:
I know few storytellers as whimsically captivating as Rachel Anne Ridge. She writes with a gentle, conversational voice that echoes Flash’s own unhurried gait. And humor? Oh, my, yes–I mean, who names a stodgy, bedraggled little donkey “Flash,” anyway? But even as she relates incident after hilarious incident, Rachel interweaves some deeply poignant scenes with the chuckles.

Who knew that a donkey’s simple approach to life could inspire us humans to live with greater purpose and thankfulness? I’m glad Rachel listened to her donkey, and that she is sharing what she learned with the rest of us.

For more about his book, check out Flash’s website here!

You can also visit Flash on Twitter @FlashTheDonkey or Click Here to visit him on Facebook.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

Note: This post is now linked up with Literary Musings over at “Circling the Story,” Ashley Hales’ site.
June 1, 2015

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Field Trip!

Well, I’m happy to report that some good came of those dreadful early-March “snow days” of cabin fever and peach-tree panic. Trapped in the house with nothing to do except either polish the silver[plated] salad tongs and candlesticks, or stop procrastinating and write, I actually wrote. (You knew I wasn’t gonna lean toward the silver polish, didn’t you?)

“Forced” writing time led to progress in my work, which sparked enthusiasm, which generated momentum. I found all sorts of stuff to blog about, and drafted a handful of posts in advance. Since then I’ve got back to publishing every week–a vast improvement over the winter, let me tell you.

Even my fiction series started happening again. When I passed the halfway point in Book One, I started itching to do some groundwork for my future Author Website.

Hmm… I’d need some decent photos of myself, against backgrounds that complement my series.

About this time I realized that by some amazing coincidence, the Dogwood Festival was about to start in Palestine, Texas–my hometown and the setting for the series.

Stuart: Capturing the best of Palestine

Stuart: Capturing the best of Palestine

Woohoo!

Enter Stuart Whitaker, Palestine attorney/photographer/goldmine of local information. I had picked his brain back in July when I was looking for quirky things about town that I could use in the stories.

So I messaged him on Facebook: “Are the dogwoods starting to bloom? Do you know a freelance photographer I could hire to take some pictures of me with dogwoods, for my website?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Me.”

On the appointed Saturday I parked on the west side of the courthouse square. Stuart crossed the street toward me, carrying a camera with a lens roughly the size of my office wastebasket. And off we went…

Here's one of Stuart's finest photos of the historic Anderson County Courthouse.

Here’s one of Stuart’s finest photos of the historic Anderson County Courthouse.

Seriously, the man knows everything about our home town. Knew which houses had pink vs. white dogwood trees, and which were vacant. Knew every single person we saw out on the street. Related bits of history about the buildings we used as backgrounds, while adjusting camera settings.

With characteristic generosity and enthusiasm he didn’t charge me for the nearly-an-hour he spent tramping around with me, scoping backgrounds and taking photos.

He didn’t even let me buy him lunch. He said he didn’t have time because he had a civic event to photograph. Besides, “I just like to help people out, and anything I can do to promote Palestine, well…” he shrugged.

Boy, this series better be good. And I think it will be, thanks to the support and interest people like Stuart have shown.

They inspire me. They make me realize that I’ve chosen the perfect setting for my fiction. And they remind me that everybody has a story.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

PS: Thank you again, Stuart!
PPS: You can see more of Stuart’s work on his Facebook page.

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“Stats” or Bridge?

A couple of weeks ago I blogged about my book giveaway drawing… you know, the drawing nobody entered?

Well, I wrote about it partly to tell you where the book ended up, and partly in the interests of full disclosure–I don’t want to give a false impression that I’m some wildly popular, successful blogger or anything. But later I re-read the post and thought it may have sounded a bit… whiny.

I hate whining.

I should write a post, I thought, to emphasize that I’m okay with my small start and am definitely not whining. But I got busy and didn’t write it… yet…

Then I went to the Faith and Culture Writers retreat and conference in Portland, as I described last week. Excellent speakers taught on a wide variety of topics relevant to us creatives. Looking back over my notes, I found one common thread that appeared, one way or other, in every single talk. Here’s the gist of it:

To really connect with your readers you must know your identity and write authentically from your passion. Do not chase market trends or compare yourself to anyone else.

No kidding, this idea popped up in every session, from “Embrace Your Inner Weird” to “Learning from Great Literature” to “Ten Things I Hate About Your Blog.” After hearing it twelve or fifteen times, phrased in a variety of ways, it made quite an impact on me. (I may have mentioned that during the conference I suffered from information overload. Otherwise it might have had that impact sooner.)

I don’t obsess about the number of subscribers my blog has. Besides the “comparison” thing, blog statistics are pretty much meaningless anyway. Many people click “subscribe” if they see one post they kind of like, or if they want to sell me something–and they never come back. One time someone followed my blog, leaving this comment on one of my especially heartfelt, carefully crafted posts:

“Follow back?”

Did she even read any of the post?

That lack of depth or engagement sends a message: “Jan, you are just a commodity this person wants to use.”

A four-digit number of followers would feel good, but only if those individuals benefit from what I have to say. I want to build a bridge between myself and my readers and, hopefully, between us and Christ. So why pump up my statistics with two thousand people who have spent no more than fifteen seconds–ever–with my blog? As near as I can figure, it’s better to connect with two dozen real live people who actually, you know, enjoy some of my posts.

Like Marlece, f’rinstance–mom of four boys in Washington state. She documents the joy and wackiness in her blog “Son Up ‘Til Son Down.” We connected online, and got to meet when I was in the area for the conference. After encouraging each other for a couple of years, I can’t tell you how satisfying it was to see her and deliver a real, live, warm, 3-D hug right there in Starbucks! She writes authentically and from her passion. As we talked I found I already knew her. She is just as wise and wonderful in person as I’d thought.

That’s how I want to write, too. So, if you’ve read this far, know that I truly love sharing my hectic, goofy and often-discombobulated life with you. You are the one I write for, and again I say…

…thanks for reading.
Seriously!
Jan

PS: This week I am linking up with my Soli Deo Gloria sisters.

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Stirred and Settled: Faith and Culture 2015

Campus 2I’d been looking forward to it for months: the Faith and Culture Conference for writers and other creatives. We met last weekend at Warner Pacific College, on the edge of Mt. Tabor in Portland, Oregon.
Jan at Puget Sound
Brent and I actually flew out to Portland a week early to visit our two sons, their wives and our grandson, all of whom have relocated to the Pacific Northwest in the last year. Good times!

The whole region is gorgeous, hills bursting with plant life including enormous Christmas trees and tons of flowers. The lakes and rivers were full of water, which almost seems weird to a Texan whose state has been in drought mode for, what, four or five years?

The city of Portland thrums with an exuberant, youthful vibe. Artfully dressed people in all their picturesque hipness were everywhere. (Sometimes a middle-aged small-town grandma needed to go look at a blank wall for a minute. I just couldn’t keep up, you know?)

Campus 1But the pre-conference retreat, and the conference itself… whoa. Fabulous times of worship. We drank deep from a fountain of pure joy. Honest conversations, learning over and over that “I’m not the only one!” Making new friends, some of whose convictions, values or doctrinal beliefs differ from mine.

On the flight home to Dallas I spent some time considering the “Big Takeaway” — What had God said to me overall about my life as a writer and especially as a believer?

I’m glad you asked.

Most importantly, I heard the warning not to mistake my own tradition, paradigm or interpretation for biblically sound doctrine. My belief could be misinformed. My doctrinal position could actually be (gasp!) wrong. Or at least a matter of individual conscience.

On the other hand, depending on the topic and context, my particular belief or conviction could be right. While it’s certainly healthy to question old traditions, it’s equally healthy to question specific ideas generated in a youthful, freestyle, “anti-tradition” paradigm.

After all, we wouldn’t want to throw out the nuggets of holy truth along with the gravel of tradition and personal preference. As Peter points out in 2 Peter 1:20-21, “But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”

Either way, pursuing doctrinal correctness is not enough. I must also make sure my heart, my attitude, are right. I must seek my brothers’ and sisters’ highest good, with humility and love and respect for their sincerity.

Micah, Breakout session
I learned tons of stuff about writing, too, but I won’t burden my longsuffering readers with those concepts. Besides, marvelous bits of wisdom kept coming at me… so fast that too many escaped before I could jot them down. So my notebook is a little disjointed.

I’ll sign off for now, with loving greetings from the heart of Texas, y’all.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

PS: I’m linking up this week with Jen and the Soli Deo Gloria sisters.

Posted in A Page From My Journal, I Remember When... (my OWN stories) | 5 Comments