Gray Day Gifts

In light of the region's extraordinary snowfall recently, Chattanoogans now must suffer a gross, misty rain today. I'll take it when compared with the slick roads of last week—though the sand that seems to coat my entire commute (and somehow makes its way into my house) I could do without.

But this morning, with my commuting inspiration Colleen and sensible sister in mind, I paired my long-ish rain jacket with rain boots for a happy, dry ride to work. Granted it wasn't so much raining as just drizzling, but I can only imagine the outfit would keep me high and dry in heavier precipitation as well. I've had both rain pieces for well over two years—they were a thoughtful pre-Portland departure gift—yet neither made it out of my closet till maybe last fall.

Enough about the wardrobe! Since the snow melted in my yard, it seems like life is returning to the soggy ground. The grass looks somewhat green, the compost pile is finally visible, and amazingly the cacti seem to be thriving. As the days of January tick away and temperatures slowly rise above 40 degrees, my thoughts wander to after-work jaunts on the bicycle and longer hours of daylight. Though it's already apparent the sunshine is stretching on. I've been able to catch a lingering sunset behind the mountains on a few of my 6 p.m. runs, and I'm no longer greeted by a pitch black evening when leaving the James.

This weekend I was treated to concert in Nashville—a friend took me to see The Walkmen at the Exit/In on Saturday. We ate and drank our way around town and somehow avoided the inauguration crowds that day. I didn't see any cyclists while we were there, though I can imagine I was looking in the wrong places. Also, we traveled by vehicle, and not many of our destinations were within walking distance of each other. Regardless, it was great to escape Chattanooga for a day, have some well-crafted cocktails and gain a greater appreciation of my own city's vibrant essence and familiarity.

The season of planning and renewal is fast approaching for me. Between eying CSAs, anticipating the return of normal hours at the Wednesday market and arranging vacations and more weekend getaways, I'm looking forward 2011. So maybe my head is a little bit in dream land... but I feel so delightfully pleasant, and I'm so lucky to be surrounded with lively, loving friends.

No work for me today. Chattanooga is apparently covered in at least 5 inches of snow. Shoo kitty! Now if only I had groceries.

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A little blustery snow...

After an evening of true "inknoxication," Wendy and I are attempting to poach eggs to go with some chicken noodle soup. The drink? Grapefruit juice and champagne. Add coffee. Simmer for 30 minutes, and you have, my friends, and excellent Saturday afternoon.

My dear friend is bringing her 2-month-old daughter over shortly. When we got up this morning there was blustery snow dumping from the sky. It ended around 10 a.m. as we watched Better Off Dead and I tried extremely hard to ignore the headache that was setting in. Thankfully the roads are clear, though the temperature is hanging right around 20 degrees. Phew. Winter, you will most certainly exhaust me if this snow keeps up.

2011: Turn the Page. Start Smiling.

I could write for days recounting the fabulous weather conditions I've encountered on the roads recently. Or I could ramble on about the Bar Mitts and fenders I received, two glorious upgrades to my bicycle that have proved invaluable to comfortable commuting in late fall and winter. But that is neither relevant or interesting—instead, I want to mark the changing of seasons, the passing of another year.

This year I rediscovered ridiculous happiness; advanced my professional pursuits; ran another half marathon and completed a metric century ride; stayed true to myself in relationships; logged countless miles on the bicycle within a 6-mile-or-so radius; started trail running and consequently resigned myself from racing; loved, lost and left; moved to a new-to-me neighborhood; polished not only my professional outlook but my personal goals, style and shoe selection (heels?! leggings and dresses? Whoda thunk...); went to a funeral, a wedding and then some; spent copious amounts of time kicked back either on the porch or in my yard gazing at the sky. Cried 1,000-plus tears, drank at least half as many beers and consumed more oatmeal than I'd care to recount here.

Among the exciting advancements and interesting friendships and experiences that have filtered through the past 12 months, I ended up with a warm, strong sense of community here in Chattanooga. On bicycle, on foot and at the office, I'm surrounded by truly loving individuals who continue to show me new and wonderful things about myself, themselves and the area.

While traveling did not influence much of 2010, it's on the horizon—2011, West Coast wanderings; 2012, Argentine adventures. When asked the destination I would like to hit next, my response—one which I have not yet visited. So bring on the champagne! The dancing, high spirits and loud music. Next year can only outshine 2010.

Turn on the Lights

It never ceases to amaze me how reading one tiny article can ignite my editorial interests so quickly. I won't lie, my heart was a-flutter before even turning the page. But I haven't felt this way about writing and editing since my junior or senior year in J school.

I was able to ascertain—or at least further confirm—the essence of someone, or some event or place, through a roughly two-page article. This is not breakthrough, I realize, but the way words encapsulate a passion or hobby and tell a story, a good story, has fueled my interest for years. I've always loved reading those stories more than producing them, and often the goal, a finished product, gets in the way of writing. Now, finally as an editor I can allow myself to be amazed and challenged again. It's as if the lampshade was taken off the editor part of my brain and I'm shining brightly with all bulbs blazing once again

My published writing in the past 16 months almost causes me to quiver in my clogs. I somehow managed to stumble through physician and consumer publications, article after article, for that long, not as confident as I prefer to feel about my work.

I feel my career coming together, literally at my job, but more figuratively like a well-composed article that uses different figures of speech (in this case, life experiences, friends and acquaintances) and examples to come to a beautiful conclusion. Well, that's a pretty lame metaphor...but you get the idea.

officially fall!

After a weekend of camping on the French Broad River, Jeremy and I enjoyed the Tennessee through our town with a Monday night ride on the riverwalk. The sunset was incredible--and truly a sign of fall.

On the way home we stopped in at the Boathouse and had some of the best oysters I've had in months! For half price night of course.

Then this morning I awoke after a dream about exchanging folk notebooks with my sister in AR... had me thinking about a visit this spring/her fall.

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(sub)urban adventures.

My (sub)urban cyclo-adventures continued this morning with a 27-mile route that took J and I over the river via C.B. Robinson and back to town on Ashland Terrace/McCahill Road/Moccasin Bend.

This "training," per se, has been far more intriguing than any of my past rides. I've truly taken routes that in the past seemed too dangerous or unrealistic for cycling. But after our trip to Earth Fare last weekend, cycling in Chattanooga seems so attainable.

We did, however, pass David Meek's ghost bike on Ashland Terrace, an all-to-recent reminder of driver-cyclist tensions on the road.

I purchased a new Terry saddle today in the ongoing quest to find a comfortable seat for my bum. Either the thickness or firmness or SOMETHING makes the ride feel more like a Cadillac instead of a Honda Civic. I'm still adjusting though—so expect a more in-depth review to come after at least 15 miles.

While we were in the bike shop, one of the mechanics commented on how our ride was very "urban." Yes, true, and that's what I loved so much about it. I walked right out my door and didn't have to get in a car. It's not the prettiest ride through the country, but I'm able to ride to errands as part of my "training." And what's so urban about visiting the suburbs? I don't get to visit them very often—and most suburban areas I have never visited on a bicycle.

Next week, I'm going to conquer the metric century in the Sequatchie Valley! Then on Sunday, J and I are going on a 45-mile, three-farm tour up on Lookout Mountain to visit some CSAs. It should be challenging, exciting and great stress relief.