Rebuilding Houses in New Orleans with Nuns

I'm just coming back from three amazing days--one of those experiences that changes you: seeing things you can't unsee, doing things you didn't know you could do and understanding a perspective very different from your own.

This week was Nun Build with St. Bernard Project in New Orleans.  Why in hell was I there?  My sister works for a bank and she specializes in loaning money to non-profit religious institutions.  Because of that, a lot of her clients are nuns.  She heard about this gathering of nuns to rebuild houses in New Orleans and wanted to go and invited me as well.  It just seemed to surreal to pass up!  There were over 90 women working on 14 different houses.  I could write for PAGES about the experience--but let me try to sum it up in shorter statements--little excerpts of my experience.

• The biggest thing that I can say is that SIX years after Katrina, New Orleans is still in a world of hurt.  The signs of the devastation are everywhere.  If you take a standard block in a wide swath of town, 1/3 of the houses are gone--just empty lots, 1/3 of the houses are still standing but uninhabitable--with the markings still on them, boards on the windows and/or roofs caving in, and 1/3 of the houses are rebuilt.  But the new houses stand in the middle of the chaos surrounding them.  It looks like a big mess. 
• We worked on a house that was 14 feet under water after Katrina.  So our job was to do mold remediation. 
• First day--scraping every single wood frame with a wire brush to loosen up the mold.  Then applying a mold killer with a cloth onto every beam. 
• Second Day--Applying Killz paint--a mold killer and sealer--to every beam (yes, if you're counting--we touched every single piece of wood in the house THREE times).
• Third Day--Preparing the home to be fogged (final step to kill all mold) and hanging vinyl siding on the outside of the house.

Nuns Rock and Remove Mold (the second from the left is my sister Lynn--saintly, but not a nun).

• While I have some issues with the Catholic religion, I've had only good experiences with nuns.  I've known a lot of progressive, motivated, loving women working on the biggest social justice issues of our days.  And these nuns were no different.  In fact, these women in their 50s and 60s worked their asses off and had enough left in them to drink beer and tour New Orleans afterwards.  They ROCKED.   
• I stayed in Sister Helen Prejean's office--yes, the Sister Helen Prejean who wrote Dead Man Walking and who is one of the most outspoken voices against the Death Penalty. She was out of town for the week and let us stay on air mattresses in her office. 
• We visited the Rebuild Center--a daytime shelter for the homeless men and women in New Orleans, which serves 250 men and women during the day, providing showers, laundry, legal services, and meals.  It is an award winning design for any space, but as a shelter, it provided respite, peace and dignity for people who desperately need it.  The men and women were very friendly and many of them told us how blessed they were to be in a place like that. 

• We were provided lunches three days by groups like Knights of Columbus.  We were given dinner by humble residents of New Orleans as a way to show their gratitude.  It was very humbling to be served like that. 
• We got to tour the homes of Brad Pitt's Make It Right Foundation.  They are committed to rebuilding green, sustainable homes in the Lower 9th ward most affected by Katrina.  This neighborhood was right next to the levy (which is actually just a concrete wall).  Almost every single house was destroyed and 1000 people died in that neighborhood.  The houses are interesting, but they weren't occupied by low income residents and they didn't fit in with the architecture of New Orleans.  They are very visible as you drive by and I have to admit, I'm torn by their presence. 

One of the Make It Right Houses we saw driving around.

• On our last night, we went to Frenchman street to hear some real New Orleans jazz--not the French Quarter scene, but where the locals hang out.  And a total stranger asked me (and many others) to swing dance to the live band.  So cool (and I don't think I totally sucked--but I think I embarrassed my sister). 

So now what?  I return back to Orlando and my blessed life.  But I'm motivated and would like to motivate you:

• PLEASE consider going to New Orleans--with your family, a church group, friends--and donate a day or a week building for St. Bernard's Project.  It is a SUPERBLY run organization making a real difference in an area that still needs it.
• For Christmas, my friends and family will be getting notifications that their gift is my donation to St. Bernard's Project.  They'll be getting pictures of drills, bathtubs, 2x4s, work gloves and other items that they can use to bring more families home.  Don't they need that more than you need the next new gadget?
• I'll be collecting shampoos, soaps, toothbrushes, etc every time I stay in a hotel and will be sending them to the the Rebuild Center.  They provide hundreds of showers a day and it's the least I can do.  If you collect them and bring them to me, I'll send them on for you as well.

Reflections on Coming Out

So, I'm picking this blog thing back up. I'm thinking of doing another blog or just doing this one under the radar for a little bit and see if it sticks.

Last Thursday, I "came out." As a bunch of things:

• A divorced woman
• An apartment dweller
• A woman in therapy
• NOT a republican
• A bi-sexual

Ironically, the most important part of this was coming out as a divorced person to my Facebook friends--as I hadn't mentioned it since I left. I just was tired about NOT mentioning things related to all that on FB. It became ridiculous.

I really thought that the world might implode when I pushed "Publish" but, remarkably, it didn't. Instead I got comments of love and support that would reduce any person to extreme humility. And I know the last part of my coming out was more important to some, but for me it was the bigger story--it was just about being myself, whatever that means. About putting myself out there and seeing if I was still loved. And what I'm finding is that I'm loved more, not less, for embracing that full humanity.

Here's the link to my post.

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/notes/christine-mawhinney-haskins/get-the-guts-day-step-two/10150309069027127

The Week After

So, the triathlon was a week ago and I stayed on a high for a few days. It was just this amazing feeling of going after something that you didn't think you could do and then doing it.

Unfortunately (and fortunately, since that's how I make money), I had a project last week and I got totally immersed in that. But I got to talk about it every once in awhile and felt that proud rush all over again.

I was also pleased at the support that came to me for my Nepal trip. I've gotten some checks already and I'm hoping that others who promised they would give actually do. I've got $500. I have no idea how I'm going to get to $10,000. I'm really going to have to change some ways of doing things for that.

This morning, Robb and I rode 15 miles. A delightful, fun ride full of conversation and beautiful weather. It was my first ride since the tri. There is a real difference in my attitude. In training before, I was thinking about "can I do it?" or "what will it be like." For this ride, I'm planning and strategizing about how I can do it better. I'm totally hooked.

And, even better, Robb is committed to doing one in July. We'll be the big, fat triathlon family. Awesome!

The AfterGlow

I'm trying to be humble. I'm trying to move onto other things. But I just can't. I'm just pleased as punch with myself. I did a Triathlon. I did something that impresses the heck out of me! I set a really big goal and I made it.

I go into project tomorrow and I know I'll get sucked into the world of work and fast food (the topic this week), but for now, I'm just enjoying every minute.

I'm not too terribly sore which, to me, means that I trained well. And I had to fight the urge to want to bike ride today, which means that I either love it or am nuts.

I want to wear my medal and shout out to the whole world what I've done. I want them to look at me, my big thighs and butt and go "really?!" I want to tell everyone in the world that they can do anything that they set their mind to. If I can do this, they can do anything.

And when I thought I could be no more impressed with myself, I got my times.

Swim-10:55. Seriously? I did 11 minutes in the pool. Not doing mostly breast stroke. And not with 100 other people. Under 11 minutes is nuts.

Transition 1-9:41. Yeah, that's pitiful. I need work there. I added 2 minutes helping Kyle. But if the time that I'm most disappointed about is T1, I'll live with that.

Bike-48.26. Again, I'm very happy with that. I thought I was going fast, but that is an average of 15 mph, almost 2mph faster than my fastest training time. Wow!

Transition 2--2.19. I'm ok with that in my first race. Kyle did it in 52 seconds. That's a transition.

Run-34.56. I normally run a 15 minute mile. For those of you who run, you should be rolling on the floor laughing right now. Many people can walk that fast. But for 2.75 miles, that means I did 12.5 minute mile! I've NEVER run that fast.

Total--1:46. I was hoping for under 2 hours. I got it. By a lot. I really am so happy with those times.

Kyle's times:
Swim-11:43. He struggled with it he said, and floated on his back for some. But still, that is an impressive time. Before the race we said that anything under 15 minutes was a win!

Transition 1-- 11:34. Yeah. Oops. Oh well.

Bike 56:45. This is a great time considering that he had just done his first full 12 mile bike 3 days before. AND, he stopped to help a fellow racer.

Trans :52 (impressive)

Run 33:11 His 5Ks have been averaging around 13 min/mile. This was 12 min/mile. Again, darned impressive.

Total 1:54. Under 2 hours, baby!

The Wildman Triathlon--March 14th, 2009

"If God invented marathons to keep people from doing anything more stupid, the triathlon must have taken Him completely by surprise." ~P.Z. Pearce

The alarm went off at 4:45. That's just insane. But we had to get up, have breakfast (what to eat? Someone said to eat what we normally have for breakfast. I don't know if that is the best approach. Something to ask Scott), get the bikes loaded and get out the door by 5:30.

Our bags were packed the night before with a long check-list of what to remember. But I was paranoid that I'd forgotten something.

The complete darkness of the morning took me by surprise. I was quite intimidated by it. We drove into the park and saw triathletes walking their bikes around and getting marked. We parked far away and walked towards the big lights, hoping we were going the right way. We ended up coming in the back entrance and missed where they were marking everyone.

We found our spot and started setting up. That is when we realized that we were way out of our league. We saw people laying out towels. Getting little pans of water to wash off their feet. Laying out their shoes. We saw someone "practicing" taking his socks off and on quickly. Us? I had a backpack with stuff. Kyle had his shoved in bags. We had practiced transitions but we had no idea how that would translate when you have 18 square inches of space next to your bike. We rigged up the best system we could figure out and reassured each other we'd be fine. We met a really nice guy who made us feel welcome and a real snob who made us feel stupid.

I was SO glad I was doing this with Kyle. We were figuring this out together. Talking to keep each other sane. Planning our strategy (if you can call it that). At one point, he turned to me and said "Thanks for getting me into this, Mom). For me, that was the highlight. It was his expression of love and gratitude, in his own 13-year-old way.

We were participating in the "My First Triathlon"--a special race especially for people like us. The only difference was that we had a shorter run (1/4 mile instead of 1/2 mile), a purple wristband to identify us as first timers and we got a medal (along with the kids).

Because of the My First Tri, we were waves three and four of the race--green and orange caps respectively. Luckily, the water was warm. But it was also the color of iced tea due to the tanic of the leaves around the lake. And as a result, it had a visibility of about 2 inches!

Robb, Eric and my good friend and "coach", Deb Costello, were there to cheer us on. I got big smooches from Robb. Eric made me promise I wouldn't die. And Deb gave me the advice to "enjoy the journey." Just the words I needed to help me with perspective. I realized that one year ago, I tried to run. I tried to just run around the block. I had to stop five times. And I had to stop five times for the next several weeks. Then I only had to stop three times. And by May, I could do it without stopping. Then in June I went a mile and a half. And in September I decided to do a Triathlon. Just ONE YEAR LATER, I was doing this. No minor accomplishment. It is that--the journey of this last year--that makes me so proud. Not that I was getting ready to start a triathlon. It was more that I could be considering it at all.

Meeting at the beach at 7:45. Waves 1 and 2 went off around 8 and 8:05. Then they moved in buoys for the shorter swim for us. The first men for the half mile were coming out before we even went INTO the water. Total studs.

Kyle went in first and my heart sunk. That was my baby. And I lost sight of him pretty quickly. I hoped he was okay and wasn't scared.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and my wave was off. As Deb coached, I counted "one, two, three" and let the others go first. Then I dove in. Arms, legs, torsos everywhere. Scott had said that the beginning is like swimming in a washing machine. Exactly. And I couldn't see the legs getting ready to kick me.

Quickly I realized that my training in the pool wasn't sufficient. I was doing freestyle. While my opposite-side breathing was automatic, when I turned my head for a breath, my mouth was still in water. I needed to lift it up to the side about 15 degrees more. I also was constantly looking up to see where the buoy was. After a couple of mouthfuls of water and straining my neck, it was easier to go to breast stroke. I tried to go back to freestyle after an interval, but it was exhausting.

I felt like I was going SO SLOWLY, but I was passing swimmers, even some of the men from the previous wave. And I couldn't worry about the time, I could just swim. I was on the way back to shore when I saw Kyle get out of the water and could relax a little. I was glad I knew where he was.

I stood up when I could touch the ground and ran out of the water, astonished at how tired my legs were (I NOW know that was a mistake as that made my legs more tired). Eric gave me my sandals, Deb told me that Kyle was about 2 minutes ahead of me and Robb took pictures. I tried to run to the transition area, but my legs were HEAVY!

Made it to the transition area. Kyle was sitting there getting all his gear on. He was using someone else's bucket to wash off his feet. I just pulled my sandals off and threw on my socks and shoes. I had given Eric a towel at the beach, but forgot to get it when I got out of the water. Oh well. I was ready to go, but Kyle was still struggling. He almost forgot his glasses. Then he got sand on them. I stopped and helped him out, finding something dry to clean them off for him. He told me to go, but I stayed and helped him. We came out of transition together. He had a mountain bike so started riding it and got yelled at. Me, my water bottle came out of the holder and I didn't notice until I was about to get on the bike. At which point I swore. Luckily, a guy came running up with it.

I asked Kyle if he wanted me to ride with him and he told me to go ahead and I did. I LOVE the bike ride. It's spiritual for me. Beautiful lake houses made the time go quickly. I tried to remember to hydrate. Made sure I watched for signs for turning. And I ate my jelly beans that were my tastier alternative to those icky gels for carb energy. I have to come up with another system for opening and eating those. Tricky to do while keeping your hands on the bike....

But mostly, I kept looking for places where I could check on Kyle. Towards the end, we had a long strip where we went down and came back--almost two miles. I was sure I'd see him. Surely he couldn't be THAT far behind me....but I didn't. When we came out, they were signalling for me to turn, but I stopped to wait for him. He was coming down the road. He yelled that he had stopped for someone who crashed. He was fine. I was relieved and could let the mother side of me go and continue as the cyclist.

I thought I was making good time, but I had no idea. My only way of keeping track of times and distances was through my iPhone, which I wasn't allowed to bring. I had no idea how much further I had to go and what my speed was. But I remember at one point thinking that I should think about backing off the speed because my legs would get too tired for the run.

Got back to the transition area and yelled to my cheering section that Kyle was about two miles behind. In transition, got my running shoes and my number. I also grabbed a bottle of water, because I was used to running with my water belt, which I had given to Kyle. Carrying the bottle was a mistake. Just a little water bottle, but it felt heavy.

My legs were lead. Dead weights. I got nervous. But just kept reminding myself to just run. Don't think. I actually don't remember much about that part of the race at all. After the first quarter mile or so, I started to feel like a normal run. At one point, there was a sign to go to the right, but some were going straight. I decided to follow the sign but found out that many had skipped the whole loop (including the woman who placed just ahead of me). The run was pretty--through the group camping area where there was a Boy Scout Jamboree. Through a NJROTC campout where teens were giving backrubs to each other (yeah, I know what that was about). Through the family camping area where I could see the tents, campers. Decided that I wanted to camp there. Some of the campers were triathletes who were already done and back at the site. Jerks.

I never stopped running, except for four steps at the second water stop because I had almost choked while trying to drink while running at the first. I knew that if I stopped, I wouldn't be able to start again. My other big sensation was the need to go to the bathroom. I thought of stopping at the camp bathroom, but that would take too much time. At the end of the run, I met Jane. She would walk a little, fall behind me then run a little and catch up. I also met a guy who was in his second Leukemia remission and way overweight, but there he was doing a triathlon. Impressive.

I heard cheering in the distance. I was CONVINCED that it was after 10:30 and that the awards ceremony had already started. So I was startled to get close to the finish and see everyone there. Every little bit of energy came out to run down the chute to the finish line. I raised my arms for the picture. Robb was there at the end with a hug, but I was even more glad to see the cold bottle of water, which I chugged. I barely noticed them taking off my transponder and handing me a medal (what about putting it around my neck, dudes?).

Then I just started rambling to Deb and Robb--about every little detail. About what surprised me. And how hard it was. I kept talking and talking. I forgot to turn around and wait for Kyle. Finally Robb said he was coming. There came my baby, lumbering down the chute, looking exhausted. He recovered, realized that there was pizza over at the pavilion and went over and ate FOUR PIECES (oh to be 13 with that metabolism).

I kept processing, we hung out, said goodbye to Robb who was off to a rocket launch and to Deb who was off to teach a seminar. We watched a little of the awards ceremony but then decided to head out. Kyle and I went over to the transition area to collect our mess of stuff. We loaded the bikes onto the truck. And just as I was closing the car door, I heard over the loud speaker "Kyle Haskins." He won an award. You've never seen two people who were so tired book our way over to the pavilion! He got first in his age group! And got a plaque. He was STOKED! That little plaque was just the killer touch. His mom had toasted his time but he got a plaque.

We headed to IHOP, his idea. He had FIVE pancakes (again that metabolism) and headed home. During lunch, Kyle said "That was the hardest thing I've ever done." He also said that he needed to train more. While I had trained 4-6 days a week, he barely did 1-2...and he knew that it showed. But he also started immediately talking about doing another one very soon. Surprisingly, so did Robb. It really inspired him. He swam as a kid. And he bikes almost everyday. He just needs to get running. But he got really excited about it.

We got home by 1pm. Barely afternoon. But we had accomplished more in that morning than anyone else we knew. We were sore. We were tired. We were triumphant.

Preparing for the Triathlon

I'm going to do this in three installments--because I want to remember all of it. What an amazing weekend. I'll have other triathlons. But none of them will be the first.

Let's start with the weekend before the race. Kyle and I wanted to do a pseudo-triathlon to make sure we could do it. We did the swim, drove home quickly and did our transition into the bike. But we had just gotten our bikes back from the shop. Mine had a clicking noise (later found out it was just in another gear). I stopped to check it out. Kyle stopped to see if I was okay and squeezed his newly tuned brakes--they were much tighter and his front wheel STOPPED and he flew over the handlebars and landed on the street--scrapped and bloody. Of course, he didn't go further, but after getting him settled with ice and pain relievers, I continued.

No problem with the ride, but by the time of the run, it had been 5 hours since I had eaten and it was the heat of noon. I couldn't do the whole run. I was spent. Done. Crap. It was then that I was worried about the race. Could I really do it?

But that week, I got a strong week of workouts. Two strong swims, some light strength training, and a couple good runs. After Thursday's swim, I was done. No more workouts till the race.

On Friday, I checked Kyle out of school early and we went to pick up our packets. They had a "webinar" on Wednesday where they went through the rules, how everything was going to work, etc. But they were also doing a course walk-through at 3pm on Friday and we wanted to see that. We asked all the silly questions like "how do you put the bike on the rail without a kickstand?" "how does the transponder work?" "are there alligators in the lake?" (the answer was yes!). But we got to see where we went in and out and got a strategy for the long walk between the lake and the transition area (Kyle's strategy--run barefoot; my strategy--give sandals to Robb).

The highlight of the day? Someone asked where the spectators could go. They said "Only athletes are allowed in the transition area." I looked at Kyle and whispered, "I think they just called us 'athletes.'" I've never been called an athlete. Excellent.

Carb loading at Macaroni Grill with the family and Kailey. Then early to bed with hopes of sleeping....

Triathlon for Bandipur!

I want to tell you all a story. Until recently, I never considered myself an athlete. I was the one struggling for the 100 yard dash, who would role her ankle just playing tennis and huffed and puffed when doing anything physical.

That has changed for me recently. What made me change? A sappy Nike commercial and wishing for a trip to Nepal. It is the trip to Nepal I want to tell you about…and ask for your help.

Several years ago my friend Jeannie went on a trip to the small town of Bandipur, Nepal. Since then she has raised money for plumbing for their school and a new home for an elderly couple who were walking two hours to and from work every day. I’ve dreamt of going with her, but there was one big obstacle—the trip requires a long walk up a mountain and I was out of shape.

So last year around this time, I started running. My goal was to run a mile without stopping. It took me over two months. In May of last year, I ran a whole mile. In November, I ran my first 5K. In just two weeks, March 14—just a year after I started on this journey--I’m doing my first triathlon.

For some of you, this may be no big deal. But for those who know me well, I’m not a petite woman. This is a very big deal for me. And I’m doing it as a means to an end—to get in shape so I can get up that mountain in Nepal.
But here’s the next challenge. I don’t want to go to Nepal empty handed. So, I set another very ambitious goal. I want to raise $10,000 to take to the town of Bandipur to help them buy books, supplies and provide better structures for their schools. My goal is to raise it in time to go this coming November.

This is where I need your help. If everyone who reads this note sends me $15, then I can raise $10,000! And to what other organization can you donate where you know the person who is actually making sure it goes where it is supposed to go?

So just reply and let me know that you’re in right now. I’ll find you and remind you to send it when it is convenient for you. And no guilt if you can’t do it--I totally understand.

Thank you. And if you’ve ever doubted about the power of goals and dreams, then let me remind you that anything is possible.

This Sucks (aka How to Care So Much Without It Consuming You)

Okay, so there is no possible way to describe what is happening besides --this Sucks! Kailey has cancer. It's changed her world. It is changing our world. I'm trying to not let it affect me too much, but I'm finding that very difficult.

First of all, you have to understand who Kailey is for us. We "found" each other on Halloween 7 years ago. I was a cow, she was Dr. Kevorkian, jokes were exchanged about her killing me and BAM--she was our babysitter and adopted daughter. She's been over to our house 2-5 times a month ever since--sometimes to babysit, sometimes to hang out, sometimes to take the kids to do something amazing that their parents would never do. We have a gecko named after her. She is somewhere between a daughter, friend, sister and drinking buddy. She's a very strong, independent, BEAUTIFUL young woman who it has been more than our pleasure to watch mature and find her unique place in the world.

And she has cancer. Ovarian. With some spread to her back. And it sucks so much.

She told us and I freaked but then kind of went into denial. It wasn't until she came over for dinner, described everything in her matter-of-fact Kailey way that it was in our face and we couldn't deny it. A week later she moved back to the neighborhood with her dad, which puts her a block away from us. We're walking her dog, having dinner with her, hanging out and helping her how we can. In a way, it is great to get to spend so much time with her. I wish it weren't under these circumstances.

On the one hand, she is so strong and dealing with this so well. It is fascinating to watch this from a 22-year old's perspective. How to handle wearing a mask while dating. Handling 3 guys who are interested in her at the same time. Fitting in college courses inbetween chemo.

On the other hand, it is incredibly hard for anyone and she's had her share of ups and downs already--and it is just beginning. Changing diagnoses for the cancer in her back--the radiation is off, it's on, it's off again. She's had her second lumbar puncture and gotten meningitis from it each time. The chemo affects everything. She has to wear a mask which has prompted INSANE comments. And she's shaving her hair today because it is one way she can take control over losing it over the next few days.

My role--I've been trying to play plenty, but which ones are needed? Friend? Mother-figure? Nurturer? Someone to keep it light? Support only where needed? Food provider? Source of organic fruits and vegetables? Someone to keep her from getting lonely and scared? I want to be all of these? But I don't want to smother her. And I know I can't solve it. And, it doesn't help anyone if I can't focus also on my life--my work, husband, kids, life.

So, to my grounded, pastoral-based friends out there--how do I stay supportive, acknowledge the hugeness of this in our life and help to truly make a difference....but not get totally consumed by it?

Should We Be Doing All This?

OK, before I even start typing, a MAJOR disclaimer. I LOVE my friends and family. I want them to be healthy. I want everything to be done possible to make them healthy. The following rantings are broadly philosophical and overall ethics and not about specific individuals.

Okay, this has been quite a few weeks. First you have to hear me rant about the back story. But I'll tell you that the overall theme is people being made physically miserable by medical efforts to make them healthy. Not the illnesses themselves, but by the medical interventions RELATED to the illnesses. That is the topic of my ranting.

1. My uncle Dave. Had a liver transplant several years ago. Kidneys are not doing well and on dialysis. But major issue is four blocked arteries. Had a quadruple bypass and was in the hospital for many days, feeling miserable. (Mostly his legs hurt from where they took the arteries). The surgery was necessary to prevent a serious heart attack.

2. My friend Dave. Has colitis. Had a combination of medicines that made him so anemic that he was hospitalized for several blood transfusions. In the hospital for days. Missed a lot of work. It wasn't the colitis that ultimately caused the hospitalization--it was the combination of medications.

3. My friend Terri. She is HIV positive and her counts went down dramatically a couple of weeks ago. She was incredibly lucky to find a very famous doctor who is working on advanced treatment for HIV/AIDS in Africa who put her on an experimental treatment. But for the first week, her body was doing everything it could to reject these awful chemicals. She basically lived in the bathroom, slept with her head on the toilet with her body rejecting this in every way it could. It wasn't the HIV that had her sick, it was the life-saving treatment.

4. Our babysitter (and "adopted" daughter) Kailey. At 22, she's been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. (Yes, let's all acknowledge that this sucks beyond all belief). She's had one round of chemotherapy and has given us all the grisly details. Puking, no energy, no strength, everything tastes like metal, can't eat anything "unreal". Plus she gets something called "chemo brain" which makes her forget the sequence of things (like she got dressed and THEN got in the shower and turned it on!). The cancer isn't affecting her yet. This is all from the treatment.

5. My mother. She had a tightening in her chest and pains down her arm. Because she has every single risk factor for heart trouble, they admitted her for three days, ran lots of tests, poked and prodded and bruised her, and at the end of the day let her go saying there was nothing they could do and her arteries aren't clogged. No heart attack, but plenty of trauma to find that out.

First of all, YES--these are all within the last two weeks. Second of all--notice that these all have one thing in common. All of these people are suffering. But they are NOT suffering from the illness that is the root cause. They are all suffering from the TREATMENT of said disease. The treatments are so harsh that people are puking, collapsing, bleeding and showering with their clothes on.

For me, I have to wonder if our goal of saving everyone, curing everything and defying mortality at any cost has gone too far. We are putting cell-killing chemicals into our bodies, creating toxic healing "cocktails", putting cameras into hearts, medicines that make us sicker and our organs onto machines just to heal us. Our earth is getting more and more populated and we're working harder and harder to keep it that way.

I don't have the answer--just a great big question. Should we be doing this? And, again, please refer to the first paragraph. This is very much a NIMBY (not in my back yard) question. YES--I want all this to be done for MY loved ones. But I have to ask--as this is all being thrown in my face--is this really the humane way to treat humanity?

My First Brick

I know. I thought the same thing. What's a brick?

My friend Deb is the absolute best. She's the one who got me into this. At a cocktail party (I love that word) last year, she innocently asked me if I was interested in doing a triathlon. I didn't even let her finish the sentence before I said "YES." I don't know why. I had consumed a few drinks, was feeling cocky and I said "YES." Ever since then, she has been a recruiter, cheerleader, trainer and life coach for a number of women she's recruited to the cause.

She called me yesterday and said "I just realized you're a month out. We've got to start working." Well, I'm five weeks out, but she effectively freaked me out. She and all her other girls aren't doing thier tri until May--but my first one is March 14th. She told me that I need to stop drinking (well, ok), drink lots of water, eat more protein (but I'm vegetarian!!!) and start doing Bricks.

Bricks are Biking and Running Combinations. We can do these different things separately, but the secret to the triathlon is that they all go TOGETHER. Going from swimming to biking isn't that tough because swimming is mostly upper body and biking is mostly lower body. But going from biking to running is a different matter. So, I did my first one--half of what the race is going to be--6 mile bike and 1 mile run. I also got to practice the transition--what do I need to take off after the bike (shoes, helmet, gloves) and put on for the run (running shoes, water belt). I wasn't expecting how HEAVY my legs felt after the bike. But I ran 1.25 miles. And I think I could do two. I'll be finding out in the next couple of weeks.

Aren't you glad to know all this stuff???

Run Around The Universe

Our third 5K. They're almost becoming normal now. That is actually very cool for me.

This one was pretty awesome because it was held at Universal Studios. We started in the bus parking lot, ran through City Walk, ran all the way around Islands of Adventure and then through the back lots of Universal Studios and then through the "streets" of Universal Studios. We ran out the front gates and then ended right in front of the Hard Rock Cafe. All along the route were Universal employees with cute signs, cowbells and cheers. It was very easy not to think about the run because there was so much to look at along the way.

But what was cool about this one is the role that Eric had. He came with us because Robb was gone for the day and I had to do a training afterwards--I didn't want him home alone. So, he said goodbye to us at the starting line and then was walking to where the race ended. But I ran into him about a third-mile in waiting to cheer us on. I passed him and said "C'mon, Eric, run with me." He got this big surprised smile on his face and said he would. About another third of a mile, he turned to me and said "When should I stop." I said "Don't stop. Run the whole thing with me." His face lit up again and he decided to go for it.

Now, this is big for Eric. He was impressed with what Kyle and I were doing, but he didn't think he could do it. He didn't want to "train." He didn't think he could run. But before he knew it, we were half way through. Poor kid was running in his jeans with a big, bulky sweatshirt, but he was running. And he had to stop and walk sometimes, but luckily for him, I'm a really slow runner so he could walk a little and then run and catch up. We talked along the way and I made sure to tell him several times how proud I was of him. It was a real treat to see his face light up when I said that.

We finished at 42.10. That is 15 seconds longer than my last race. But considering that I ran a little slower for Eric, I consider that a great success.

For the triathlon, I feel confident that I can do the run. And I've done 15 mile bike rides a couple of times now without much problem (a sore butt the next day). I'm working on the swimming. Tonight I had my second swim this week and I think I can do the 1/4 mile.

Yesterday, I officially signed up for TWO triathlons-- a short sprint (1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 2 mile run) in March and then a full sprint in May (1/2 mile swim, 16 mile bike and 3.1 mile run). I need to get the swim going, but I don't think I'll die.

The training continues. But I'm really enjoying it!

AC/DC or Bust

Many of you who read this blog also followed this journey on Facebook, but I wanted to save it for posterity. Kyle and I went on a road trip to Charlotte, NC for an AC/DC concert on Thursday. This started several months ago when, after many years of trying to figure out what he was "into", Kyle decided he dug rock music. It has been such a joy to help him discover what he likes--Led Zeppelin, Def Leppard, Journey, Boston and the likes. But his favorite was AC/DC--the ultimate cliche in rock music, of course. And then he found out they were going to be touring. Unfortunately, the closest concert was either Charlotte or Atlanta--we chose Charlotte. (Interestingly, several weeks later, they decided to add a Tampa show, but by the time we found out the only tickets left were in the nose-bleed section almost behind the stage.) The deal was that he had to earn the money for the ticket, a t-shirt and a portion of the gas--$150. I'd let him skip school and we'd go.

He was looking forward to the concert, but I was looking forward to the road trip. He was so grateful that I was taking him, he said he'd talk to me the whole way. 16 hours with my 13 year old just talking and sharing--that is gold!

The road trip was AWESOME! 8 hours straight of AC/DC music. He set up my new iPhone and we read about AC/DC on Wikipedia on it. We learned about the history, the musicians and odd ways of dying (the old lead singer died by choking on his vomit while drunk). The night before we went to the dollar store so that on the ride we could munch on cookies and he could drink fake Mountain Dew. We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to save money on Fast Food. He updated my Facebook page with cheesy puns of AC/DC titles. And we played the music really loudly.

After checking into the hotel (thank you Marriott points--the golden lining to all my traveling), we went out to dinner and we made a rule that--for that night only--we were not mother and son, just two people going to a concert. He told me stuff that I'd never heard (nothing dangerous, just more of a glimpse into the life of a 13 year old middle schooler). And we laughed. I let him drink Red Bull (I NEVER let him do that) and he let me try some in my beer.

And the concert--it was loud. Really loud. But the theatrics were fun, the music was decent and the staging was amazing. The concert was sold out and all the 40-something rock fans were in heaven. No one sat down the whole concert. The show was full of rock cliches--devil horns, rock trains, guitar solo tricks, video clips of babes and sexual innuendo.

Our ears were ringing after, continued ringing the whole trip home and Kyle's were still ringing today, 2 days after. But another memorable moment came on the way home when my son--after 24 hours of being an adult rocker, asked in his sweet, tired and kind voice, "Mom, I know I said I would talk to you, but do you mind if I just tune out and watch a movie?" I said fine. His choice after a hard day rocking and rolling? Disney's The Incredibles. Ahh....13 years old.

Reindeer Run Rules

So yesterday was our second 5K race and it was good! I had a crazy week--two projects in two cities, about 80 hours of work and a midnight flight home from NYC on Friday. But I was up naturally about 5:30 before my 6am alarm.

The big challenge was that it was COLD. Those of you up North will laugh, but it was in the low 50s and it was very cold for us. But I didn't want to overdress because as soon as my body warmed up I would be cold.

I was excited about the Reindeer Run because they give really great shirts. It was a long sleeve Under Armor kind of shirt. So that was going to have to do.

My goal with this race was to run--more than what I did on the last one where my times were pretty embarrassing. I wanted to lengthen my stride a little bit more and pick up my feet more.

We got off to a good start. I got kind of paranoid when just a little into the race I heard something drop on the ground and it was my car key that I had tucked into my sports bra. After that, I kept checking my bra, making anyone who was watching possibly wonder what was happening.

At the first mile, I was thrilled to see my time. 13.25. For those of you who run (who are some of the only ones who read my blog), this will make you laugh. But for me, it was a full minute off my time during the last run. I was thrilled.

The run went through some gorgeous home areas in Maitland. Once my body warmed up it was a PERFECT temperature to run. And no turtlenecks or santa hats this time--just comfy running clothes.

There were lots of people dressed up--like elves, Santa, snowflakes, etc. But the highlight was the Orange County firefighters who ran the whole race in their fire gear with heavy tanks on their back. For the last 20 minutes, one of them ran with Kyle (who was ahead of me, of course) and told him that Kyle wasn't to let him pass him. He especially encouraged Kyle on the last stretch to give it his all. He did and came in at 37.51.

For me, each mile was almost exactly 13.25. My second mile was at 26.5 and my third at 40. I ended up the race at 41.55. As I came across the line, they said "And here's Christine Haskins from Oviedo, FL" which cracked me up.

My lungs felt this race, which made me feel good. I didn't want to coast through it. I felt better about this race than the last one--ironic. Even more ironic since I had such little sleep and a flight the night before. I felt real good.

By the time I found Kyle at the food table, he had eaten at least 5 Rice Krispy Treats (of course). I had a banana and then we had to rush home because the poor kid had a football game for an hour as soon as we got home.

2 down. More to go....

First Step to the Tri--my first 5K

So, I ran my first race last week--the Turkey Trot 5K. I was actually feeling quite confident about it because I had run 3.5 miles earlier that week without much incident. I'm actually finding that the first mile is hard for me, but then, as long as I don't get bored, the rest comes pretty easily.

Kyle did this with me and that made it six times more fun (Much more than twice as much fun, not as much as 10x).

We went to go pick up our friends at 7am (as I have access to the parking garage across from my work, right by the race start). At the start, people were dressed up with Turkey hats, Xmas gear, etc. I had a Santa hat (which was terribly impractical--I stuffed it in my waist band within the first quarter mile). There were about 5,000 people. Kyle wanted to start right when the race began--I wanted to wait to let the crowd thin out a little. It was hard to let him go--I wanted to see him succeed. And there was that feeling that if I let him go into that crowd, I may never see him again!

I started three minutes in. Got a pace faster than what I normally run and realized that I was winded by the end of the street already. So I slowed to my normal pace and went from there.

It was a beautiful run. Gorgeous cool day, cute houses along the way, really nice people out watching everyone and waving. I hit the one mile marker and it felt like 2 miles already, but I was enjoying it. And then, before you knew it, I hit the 2 mile marker. Where'd that go?

The amazing feat of the race was "de-layering." I know understand why runners layer their clothes. But I, the newbie that I am, put a holiday turtle neck UNDER my race shirt. And, of course, when my body started to warm-up, I was stuck. So, I took my arms out from both the shirts, put them back in the top t-shirt and pulled out the turtle neck and tied it around my waist. ALL WITHOUT EVER STOPPING RUNNING.

At the finish line, this all felt very anti-climactic. People were cheering the whole length of the street, but my time was very slow. There were speed walkers who were passing me. But then I realized it. I ran a race. I ran the whole thing. I never stopped. A few months ago I couldn't run a mile. I sped up a little bit the last bit and a woman running next to me started congratulating me. Then I felt good.

Kyle finished about five minutes before me. He ran really hard the first mile, stopping once. But then he was burnt out and stopped like 10 times during the second mile. He was waiting for me at Panera, quite pleased with what he had accomplished that morning.

As for me, I finished. I've already forgotten my time (isn't that pitiful? Aren't I supposed to be a runner and obsessed about my time?), but I think it was around 45 minutes. I was running 14-15 minute miles. That's barely jogging. I need to speed that up. But I ran. A race. A whole race.

That's step one...4 months to go to the triathlon.

Quote of the day for the strong women in my life (and those who love strong women):

"Whatever you give a woman, she will make it greater. If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby. If you give her a house, she'll give you a home. If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal. If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.

So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit."

Happy Halloween. From a true witch.





While it is a little bit of a risk coming out of the "broom closet" as a witch, I am trusting that the few people who read this blog know me and have open minds enough to understand what that means. AND, I think you may be interested in the broader meaning of witches and Halloween from a real witch on this day...





Witch actually is from the Saxon word wicca. It actually means “Wise One.” In the old days, witches were very connected to the earth—they were the local herbalists, midwives, and healers. But when the Christians were trying to convert the pagans, they needed to take away the power from these spiritual healers and therefore made caricatures of them as green and warty and they made their healing pots seem like scary cauldrons.

Halloween is called Samhain (Saw-Wane) in the pagan world. People celebrate when a baby is born, when someone has a birthday, when someone gets married. But how do we remember or celebrate the people who have died who have been important to us. Samhain is the time to remember those who have died and for us to celebrate their lives.

Many of us believe that the spirits of people who we loved but who have died are still with us. And that they love us and want us to be happy. Samhain is when we celebrate them and ask them to come back and visit us. Because this is the beginning of the dark time of the year (turned clocks back last night, right?), the change of this seasons is when the veils between the dead and the living are the thinnest.

Samhain has been celebrated in some form or another for almost 3000 years. It was thought to have first started with the Druids in 700B.C. But most earth based religions (from the Native Americans, to the Nords, to the Celts) have celebrated some kind of celebration of their ancestors who have passed on. And they all happen around this time of year.

At our house, we have a Samhain Altar. It has pictures and items from the people (and animals that have died. From photos to quilts to shells to our dog's collar, we look forward to pulling them out and telling stories about all of them. With our altar, we encourage spirits of those who love us to come back and visit us. So we leave out food for them. My grandfather loved Lima Beans and tried to make me eat them every time I was there. So we leave out beans for him. For me, it is important to teach my kids to celebrate our ancestors. It is who we are.


So, what about the different items you know about Halloween--how did they become what they are now?

Jack-O-Lantern--Back in the old days, they were worried about bad spirits coming back as well. So they would paint their gourds to scare them away, like a scarecrow in a garden.

Costumes--They would wear scary costumes to keep those scary spirits away as well. Ghosts, scary witch and goblins. Still the most common costumes today.

The Name Halloween--When the Catholic Church started taking over the lands of the people who celebrated Samhain, they didn’t like their holidays, especially ones that included any talk of magic or dead people. But it was really hard for the people not to celebrate this holiday because it was so important to who they are. So the church created a different holiday, called All Saint’s Day (or All Hallows Day—which means holy) where they would celebrate all of the Saints of the church. So the people celebrated All Hallows Day on November 1st. But on the evening before, they celebrated Hallow’s Eve—or what turned into Halloween. They couldn’t keep the people from celebrating this important night.

Pranks--The Druids had a very hard life. They had a lot of rules and things to do. But during Samhain (from Oct 31 to Nov. 2) they let loose. They did crazy stuff. Men dressed like women, and women dressed as men, farmers gates would be unhinged and left in ditches, people’s horses were moved to different fields, etc.

Trick Or Treat--There are two theories about this. The first is that it came out of the pranks—everyone dressing up and going around their neighborhood. But the more commonly known one is the precursor of the Good Samaritain Legend. People back then (and many now) believed in fairies. Fairies were always good and they liked it when people were good to each other. So sometimes they would disguise themselves as beggars and go door to door asking for leftover food. Those who gave them food were rewarded (with a treat). Those who didn’t take care of those less fortunate, often got some kind of unpleasant trick. So we dress up to be like the fairies. And go door to door to see if they will give us a Trick or a Treat.

Full Moon--Many pagans celebrate their spirituality each month on the full moon. We think that is when there is an extra amount of “power” to make wishes. We know that the full moon affects the ocean tides. We know that more babies are born on the full moon than any other day of the month. And we know that women’s cycles will get attuned to the moon if left unregulated by medication. So, since it is the time of power for the witch, it is a natural symbol for Halloween.

So, for me, Halloween or Samhain is special to me because:

• It is a time to celebrate the spiritual beginning of the new year.


• It is a time to confront our personal and cultural attitudes towards death and those who have passed on before us.


• It is the time to lift the veil between the worlds to gain spiritual insight about the pasts and futures.


• It is a time to deepen our connection to the cycles of the seasons, to the generations that have come before us and those that will follow, and to the Gods and Goddesses we worship.


• It is a time to let our inner children out to play, to pass on our childhood traditions to our children and to share the fun with our friends and neighbors of all faiths.

Happy Halloween and Happy Samhain to all of you.

Social Capital

So, my friend Karin responded to one of my posts and explained the idea of "Social Capital" to me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Consider this...just like we have (or don't have, given what's happening in the financial sector... but that's another post) financial capital, we also have social capital. How many friends we have, connections, liaisons, etc.

I've been thinking about this on a lot of levels.

First, I went to my experience in business. I have found that social capital (now that I know about it) is more important than almost anything in succeeding in business. After working in Corporate America for 11 years and then consulting and seeing employees of Fortune 500 come in and out of my doors each week, I've seen it in play. Of course competence is important. But I've seen some VERY competent professionals who don't know how to gain social capitol. They remain isolated in their offices. They don't engage in social conversations where a lot of real decisions are made. They're not part of the gossip channel where people get heads ups about opportunities. And, I've seen some pretty incompetent people play the politics game really well and succeed. It is, in fact, one of the things that drove me out of Corporate America.

Now, it is sometimes important to have the financial capital to get the social capital. For instance, you have to be part of the country club scene to get access to all the social opportunities of that type of people. But I do know that without the social capital, the financial capital is harder to come by.

I also assume that there are a lot of different types of social capital. The social capital of a business is very different than the social capital of a NFL football team which is different from the social capital of the slums which is very different from the social capital within the Catholic church.

This has also made me think of what other kinds of capital there is. For example, I think there is a "Physical Capital." Those who have looks going for them have more opportunities. There is data that men that are over 6 foot are perceived as having stronger "leadership" skills--even if people don't know anything else about them. Ever since the Kennedy-Nixon debate, it has been known that the physical attributes of presidential candidates can help or hinder them. Attractive people often marry other attractive people and so on. I don't think it is right. I think it is what is inside that should matter. But what should matter isn't always what does matter.

I look at my boys who are both in Middle School. Their world is all about Social Capital. Two years ago it was about who had the rarest Pokemon cards. Now it is about who has gotten up to what level of a certain video game. And, of course, they all know who has what technology, be it the iPhone or video consoles, etc. I saw it last weekend with little girls--they were all comparing who could do the most elaborate gymnastics tricks. The one who could do the back handspring had the social admiration of the others.

What does it all mean? Who knows. Again, my thoughts first go to those who don't have social capital. And why aren't we aware of that and help them more? As my friend Karin said, more people die of social isolation than of smoking. And, if someone really wanted to make a difference, they should find a cure to loneliness. What is sad is that we CAN cure that. We say that no one should live without insurance, but truly no one should should live without human connections.

What? We're Not Immortal?

I got an e-mail yesterday that someone that Lynn and I went to high school with passed away from cancer.  His name was John Cullen.  He was a grade ahead of me.  I remember him as the real hottie in our school.  Someone reminded us today that he was totally crazy about Def Leppard. 

We went to a very small school--the American School in Madrid.  There were only about 40 or so of us in each grade, so we often had classes and hung out with people from all the other grades.  We basically knew everyone at least two grades above and below.  And, because there weren't THAT many Americans over there at the time, we knew each others' families.  I knew John's siblings Mike and Kim.

John was married with two kids.  He was just 42.  

One of the joys of Facebook has been finding all of these high school friends again.  After graduation, we scattered all over the globe and, for the most part, lost track of each other.  But on Facebook we've reconnected.  And we've realized that we share a really tight bond because no one else truly understands the truly unique experiences we had as teenage Americans in Madrid in the 80s.  It shaped us in so many ways that are hard to explain.  

And because when I talk to any of them or think about them, I'm reminded of high school.  And, of course, in high school we were invincible.  So, it is inconceivable that one of us is gone.  

Go with peace, John....

Categories of People

I find that I need to put things into categories. It is my way of creating a modicum of order in my little corner of the world. I realize that I do that with people who I know as well. Overall, I have general love and affinity to most of the people in my world (with a small exception of someone who totally got under my skin last week). But I definitely feel differently about many of them. Let me try to clarify as I classify:

• Family--long-term investment people. Some I talk to or see all the time, others after long periods of times. But there's that understood thing that, after eveyone else is gone, we'll all still be there. No matter what they do (even though we are the first to complain), I'll love them always. Deep, deep bonds. My husband and children, parents, sister, cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents all fit into that category.
• Acquaintances--those people who I know, and some I even like. But they are people who come in and out of your life without much meaning. They may feel more or less connected to me, but they are the type of people who I realize that--when I see them after a long period of time--that I haven't really thought about them much.
• Working Friends--I am very lucky that there are few people I've worked with that I haven't had good experiences with. But I always keep that "professional" veil on. There are a few who transition to "Friends" and I love that!
• Friends--I am so blessed to have many who fit into this category. These are more than acquantances. These are people who, when I think of them, I smile. I have bonded with these people in very interesting ways. I usually know them on a deeper level and they know me. I know in a pinch, I could call on them. Or, if I were in their town, I could call on them for a dinner out. I always feel like I have more to learn from them and look forward to that! Many in my church community fit into this, but also other categories. There are higher and lower degrees of friends, but the key attribute is that they make me happy thinking about them.
• Soul Friends--I have a few people who fit into these categories. These are people who know me on a very deep level, challenge me, love me deeply and I love them back in return. I'm not whole unless I am able to touch base with them on a regular basis, even if it is in little ways.

About a year ago, I heard a terrifying statistic--that one in four people didn't have anyone they could confide in. To me, that meant having good friends, family or soul friends. I realized how MANY people I had who could fit into that category and I realized how blessed I was. And how sad I was for others. Unlike money, food, clothes or electronics, that is something I can't donate.

Update on The News Cycle Junkie

I'm trying. I'm really trying. My goal was to step away FOR ONE WEEKEND from the news for general ulcer-avoidance.

I went to have a pedicure and the TV was on. I read and tried not to watch it. But when they put me somewhere to dry, I was RIGHT UNDER the TV and it was loud right over my head. I had to check the weather online last night and couldn't help seeing the headlines (I didn't check though). Regular radio is AWFUL. Even my favorite part of Saturday Night Live is the opening skit about politics (and last night was particularly funny). I wasn't going to watch it, but the kids found it this morning! ARGH!

Why is it that so many people can avoid the news like it doesn't exist...but yet they can tell you day-to-day who Britney Spears is dating. For me, even when I want to, I can't get away from it.