Holy Rollers -- 2017 Trenton Bike Tour

Riding 14 miles the day before a 10 mile race probably was not the smartest idea. The weather was beautiful. People kept peeling off layers as the temperature rose about 20 degrees during our ride past many of Trenton's churches.

We started at the Trent House, which gave us great parking and enough space to gather both before and after the event. Don went early to help sign people in. He brought both of our bicycles. Ashley slept in to recover from a Halloween party the night before and in anticipation of a Sweet 16 that night. It was a good choice for her.

Jeffrey mapped out a route going through all four of Trenton's wards (often the North Ward, where we used to live) is ignored. As one might expect with the theme of places of worship, we spent a lot of time in Chambersburg (formerly the Italian section of town).

I hesitate to say too much about this ride for fear of getting the information wrong. Jeffrey provided an awesome list of what we were seeing. Unfortunately it wasn't convenient to read it and ride at the same time. He shouted out and identified some of the harder to see ones (like the mosque on the other side of Route 1 behind some trees). 

A couple of people wore costumes

Around the seven mile mark we had a rest stop at a church that is now a community center. Here more people peeled off their long-sleeved tops and put on the t-shirt that came with the event.

Throughout the ride we had at least three (perhaps four) police escorts. Two were on ATVs, blocking traffic and generally keeping us safe as they leapfrogged around us. There was also at least one bicycle police officer keeping the pace at a reasonable 7-8 MPH (slower than we may have gone on our own, but reasonable for such a large group of people).

From time to time we would stop and make sure we were still together. This was especially important early on as we crossed Route 129.

Wills and his tall bike. Wills is a group leader and avid bike activist.

It was a great ride. As Don was on the committee, I'm still hopeful I will see some official stats about how many people were on the ride. It was a good number -- enough to feel festive, not so many we were losing people. They could not have had a nicer day weather-wise. It was brisk at the start and warmed up to about 80 with no sign of rain. It didn't feel like fall. It felt like a perfect day any time of year.

Perfect 10 Miler - 2017

For the fifth year in a row I ran the Perfect 10 Miler in Mercer County Park. I left feeling eh after this race. I was reminded of something Ashley told me earlier in the week. Friend #1 was upset because she got a 95 on a chemistry test. Friend #2 was excited because she got a 95 on the same chemistry test!!! That's how I felt with this year's Perfect 10 Miler race. This year and last year I had virtually the same finish time: 1:55 and change. Last year I was psyched to do so well. This year I was bummed I didn't do better. During training my running has been faster and stronger. I've nearly stopped doing intervals and run for fun. However, by mile 7, I couldn't run. I walked at least a mile, probably more like two, and lost all progress I had made in the first half of the race. Every muscle from my big toe up to my shoulders ached.

Let me back track. The race expo was fun. I bought another Bondi Band arm cell phone holder. That was a surprise. I've never seen them at The Perfect 10, only at Disney races. I bought a medium in Paris and found it a little large on my bare arm when doing jumping jacks with Girls on the Run. Now I have a medium to use with a shirt underneath, and a small for warmer days. I also bought more berry flavored gels.


On race day Kim and I found each other and started together. Her plan was at least a half an hour behind mine (which she made with a minute to spare -- Go Kim!), so after I started I tried to move up to where I wanted to be. I should have started where I wanted to be -- around the 11 minute pacers, but it was more fun starting with a friend. I nearly caught up with the 11 minute milers, but not quite. I did start at least 2 minutes behind them in my wave. 

The real issue is the course is BORING. The fun part is bumping into friends -- and I did do that, just not as many as in other years. I saw Anne and the Girls on the Run group (we came in second place as a group), and Gabrielle (no photo this time), but that was about it. Usually the cheering from my girlfriends boosts me.

Here are a few pictures:

Even with her wardrobe issues, she finished before me.
She also won Best Costume.

Reminded me of Peggy Sue

Only a half mile to go

Hillary and Stacey (and Jasper)

Great medals -- fantastic shirts!

We did it! I made Kim smile by waiting for her to finish.

The race shirts are the best I have ever received. Zero advertising. Great shade of pink. Women's cut. Long enough for my long torso. Yes, I should post a picture of it, but I keep wearing it and putting it in the wash so I can wear it again before it gets too cold out to wear it again. 

While waiting for Kim I saw a tent with MomsRunThisTown.com. They have a local chapter in Hamilton that often meets for group runs at Mercer County Park. Once race season is over, I hope to join them. They have paces ranging from those speedy 8 minute milers to walkers at 15 or 16 minute mile paces.

The weather was warm. The sun was shining. I did not get hurt. Yet, overall the feeling of eh has not left me. Less than a week until my next race. May my head get back in the game by then.

Love the shirt and medal:

Happy running!

Lawrenceville's Ghost Tour

After learning about the Spirits of Hopewell Valley, I was pretty excited to learn more about Lawrenceville's history. The Lawrence Historical Society hosted their first ever bus tour last weekend. It was a sell out.

The event started and ended at the Brearley House on Princeton Pike -- a spooky enough looking place in the dark. 

We boarded our bus and stopped at several local places. We learned about a couple who was moved posthumously from Trenton to their final resting place in Lawrenceville. She joined our bus asking which one of us moved her.

She was creepy, and had an excellent speaking voice (especially for a dead lady). She stayed with us the entire time. Next up we went to the Presbyterian Church of Lawrenceville where we learned while the tombstones were moved during the construction of the parking lot, the bodies were not. 

We drove next door to the Lawrenceville School and learned about the headmaster who haunts the school. A similar stop took place at Rider University.

Our next hitch hikers were General Washington and Col. Hand -- familiar faces to anyone who attends reenactments in this area. They met us at Notre Dame, I mean the Shabakunk Creek. 

We double backed, pausing at a haunted house on Darrah, and at another one originally owned by the same family on Princeton Pike. 

I purposely kept the stories brief -- short enough to entice you to go on it next year for yourself, yet long enough to jog my memory about the event later.

It was a good first attempt. There were technical issues on the bus making it nearly impossible to hear the actors, especially if we wanted the fans to also run. There were timing issues that I suspect will be worked out in the future. Overall the event felt more like a dress rehearsal than the actual show.

I would suggest handing out a program listing the stops. Either before hand so people could anticipate the stops, or afterwards to refresh us with the names and dates. One of the volunteers said a similar event took place at a historic site with reenactors hanging out in each room telling their story. That would be great since it would allow for more interaction. It was too dark to appreciate where we stopped along the way. An image of the building and a storyteller in each room would be just as effective, perhaps even more so.

If it is repeated next year, while I would recommend it, I wouldn't attend it again. 

Honey Bunny's Art

At Honey Bunny's funeral we displayed her artwork. Mom was was always very private about her watercolors and other art. During the receiving line someone asked me what I think she would have thought about having her artwork displayed like that when she wouldn't share it with people during her life.

It is a question that has rattled around my brain for the past couple of weeks. What would she have thought?

Over the summer we displayed one of her pieces of artwork at Art All Night in Trenton. She knew it was going to happen. I gave her pictures of how it was displayed, and told her about the positive reaction we received. A couple of people came up to me and told me we should display her work while she is still alive. I am working with a couple of people to make that happen, which means my office is stuffed with her artwork.

Random stranger who happened to be
studying her picture while we were there.

Less than a month before her passing, Attleboro, the assisted living facility where she was living, held a one-day art exhibit. I dropped off ten pictures. Don, Ashley, and my parents went to the exhibit. Between coaching Girls on the Run and back to school night, I could not make it. Don and my mom took pictures. They showed them to Honey Bunny, who by that point was mostly bedridden in the rehab building. She enjoyed seeing the exhibit on their gadgets. I didn't have time to print pictures and give her copies.

We took the pictures to the funeral parlor and displayed them. Her friends and family were able to enjoy them, mostly for the first time. Back at our house we encouraged people to take pictures home to remember her by.

People took us up on it.

There are still hundreds of pictures. 

One of the reasons I feel justified in sharing and displaying her artwork came in a moment about a week before she moved to Attleboro. She was looking at her artwork for the last time and saying wistfully "I guess all of these will end up in a dumpster." In that moment I decided I didn't want that to happen. I'd rather people enjoy them then throw them out. I certainly can't keep all of them here to collect dust.

Spirits of Hopewell Valley

A friend posted she would be singing in a cemetery in an event that would be in the style of Thornton Wilder's "Our Town." 

She had me at that description. Adding that it was free was a bonus.

On a sunny, yet brisk, Sunday afternoon we gathered in the Old Methodist Cemetery in the Titusville section of Hopewell to see dead people come back to life and listen to people singing. Okay, people didn't really come back to life. Instead actors gave monologues talking about the people they were representing, all of whom are really buried in this historic cemetery. The last burial took place in 1935.

There were eight people from the past -- Revolutionary War and Civil War veterans, widows, a minister, and a few others. There were two black men -- they would have been buried in the African American section, no mixing of the races in historic Hopewell. We learned about the man who made it possible for African Americans to own property in Hopewell because in the late 19th century he sold some of them parts of his farm. I think his name was Budd.

I had troubles finding the cemetery. The Methodist church on Main Street only said the event was taking place at the cemetery. Even the website did not give the address. Somewhere it was listed on Pennington Titusville Road, an address my GPS could not handle. As I result, I was late. Although I arrived before the event started (because it, too, was running late), I was too late to receive a program listing the different people involved. I hoped to find a discarded one, but that was not to be, either.

I did take some nice pictures. I enjoyed hearing their stories. 

I hope the Hopewell Valley Historical Society continues to provide events as charming as this one. I should be on their mailing list now. After all, history is more than just names and dates, it is also stories.

Stuff

It is amazing how much stuff we accumulate in our lives. Obviously some people amass more than others. As many of you know I've been trying to sift through 54 years of stuff. I wrote a post about it a few months ago, which was really two posts, and now a third.

Progress really did slow down over the summer. Every so often a friend would offer to come over and help me. Friend. Not Pillsbury family members. They were too busy on their vacations, or with work obligations, moving, or having an "out of sight out of mind" approach to it all, or an "I already do a lot for her" approach. I was motivated by the many thank you notes people sent Honey Bunny about how they are using her treasures, and by her phone calls asking me about the items (in some cases they were buried so deeply she forgot about ever owning them). 

That's how the summer progressed. As my motivation would wane, a lovely note appeared and she was happy to not have to worry about what to do everything, and she was happy they were not ending up in the dumpster. She would also call to thank me for what I was doing for her.

Since her passing a couple of weeks ago I've received emails and texts from people -- some of whom I only met through this project -- telling me how much they appreciate the items. Her seashell collection is down the shore in a beach house. Her textile samples are being turned into bags. Her art supplies are being used by students. These make me feel useful and appreciated.

I learned from a friend we donated so many books to the library book sale for the first time they expanded into the art gallery to sell them. Though I was in the library during the book sale, I wish I had stepped into the back area and seen that! The library profited from her hoarding.

Now back to his family. This is where I don't feel useful or appreciated, but like the unpaid help. The only comment I received on my efforts was "you've done a great job so far, but it is now time to just be done with it, you can't keep dragging this on." They can finish this up. I did about 90% of the work. As I see it, the house needs to be emptied in order for it to sell so the estate can be settled. As they are now key holders in that happening, it is time for ALL of them to do some work to make it happen.

The before pictures show me how much work I have accomplished. The after ones depress me because it is not yet over. Since the second picture I have stripped the bed and donated the sheets and blankets to EASEL. The shelves are now empty and the artwork is in my house. That is the other issue -- my garage is filled with items from Honey Bunny's assisted living apartment. Allen and Ellen emptied the apartment into our garage (they did take the books to Massachusetts). Not only do I have the house to finish emptying, but I have my own house to finish emptying.

I need to step away and stay away.

Life Resembling Broadway Show Tunes

Over the past few weeks, well probably longer, some Broadway show tunes seem to be coming to life in front of my eyes. Here are a few examples from Bandstand, which closed way to early. I'm sure I'll think of more.

Right this Way

In Bandstand the cast dreams about taking first class transportation from Cleveland, OH to New York's Grand Central Station. In my world, it was taking the TGV first class from Paris's Gare du Nord station to Liege, Belgium. Well worth the few dollar difference in price.

Breathe

I think of the lyrics "just breathe through the instrument" as I'm finding myself getting a little stressed. Life has been, well, just a little stressful lately. I find it calming.

Nobody

"You know who tells me No ... nobody...." I need to keep reminding myself that no one tells me no. I need to follow my dreams in order for them to happen.

I Know a Guy

In the musical they are looking for musicians who served in World War II in order to fill their band. In my life I often say to someone "I know someone who can do that..."

Welcome Home

The lead is singing about the boys coming home from war. For me those words are what I was thinking when I returned to Belgium after nearly three decades -- I was home again.


For my mom she was thinking of "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from Les Miserables. What show tunes do you find coming alive in your life?