Wreaths Across America

I took a bit of a self-imposed hiatus of contact from most everyone I know during the month of December for reasons I'll get into in the next post. One thing I meant to get up before the disconnect was an entry about Wreaths Across America.

December 11th was the one year anniversary of my dad's death. The 11th proved to be far less difficult than the 9th; the day that he actually fell, but it was still hard. Lucky for me (though most others would think it was an unlucky coincidence) I was laid off on the 11th. No panicking necessary - I knew my last day with SAIC was December 11th since about June of this year. I ended up taking the afternoon of the 10th and the entire day of the 11th off, and convinced my mom to book a one way ticket to DC on the 10th. She needed a distraction from the clock, or she'd have sat around watching the moments tick by, knowing exactly what happened. Besides, Akron is gloomy, and at least DC had an abundant amount of sunshine those few days. We drove back on the morning of the 11th, and my sister met us at the house as well. Spirits were high, and we knew we were about to do a good thing in the morning.

Around October, I heard a radio spot for Wreaths Across America. The ad called for volunteers and online wreath donations to help the annual decoration of Arlington National Cemetery. A bit of history about the program from the website:

The Arlington Wreath program was started by Morrill Worcester (Worcester Wreath) in 1992 with the donation and laying of 5000 Christmas wreaths to Arlington National Cemetery. This became an annual journey for Mr. Worcester. Read more about this in the History of Arlington.

It was relatively obscure until 2005 when a photo of the stones adorned with wreaths and covered in snow circulated around the internet. The project received National attention. Thousands of requests poured in from all over the country from people wanting to emulate the Arlington project at their National and State cemeteries spurred the creation of “Wreaths Across America”. Unable to donate thousands of wreaths to each state, Mr. Worcester conceived the idea of sending 7 wreaths (one for each branch of the military as well as POW/MIA). In 2006 with the help of the CAP and other civic organizations, over 150 locations held wreath laying ceremonies simultaneously.

Since then, it has grown to include shipments and donations to many National Cemeteries. I saw the date was December 12th, and was a bit bummed that I wouldn't be able to help, as I knew I'd be home in Ohio at Ohio Western Reserve National Cemetery where Dad is buried. I continued reading through the webpage and saw that wreaths could be donated directly to the participating cemetery of choice, so I bought a few for OWRNC, and forwarded the link to my mom. My sister also wanted to help, so I contacted the coordinator to set us up as volunteers for wreath laying.

We woke up the morning of and began to pile layers on. Western Reserve sits at the top of a good-sized hill, and is often quite windy. Despite the sunlight pouring through the windows, we knew we were in for a cold morning. Sometimes pictures are better than words, so I'll let them do the story telling:

Folks from the local Rolling Thunder Chapter. Those in DC - this is the
group that comes in force on Memorial Day on thousands of motorcycles.
Good group of people - they were the main volunteers at the wreath laying, and do so every year.

My sister laying a wreath

Bundled up and laying a wreath on a strangers grave.

Mom (the blue Eskimo) and Doug, Board Member of the local
Rolling Thunder, Marine, and worked with Dad for years.
Talking about how much Dad is missed around the CCX Terminal.

The off-center stick in the previous picture is
actually this little verse called "The Title". Doug came out
on the Marine Corps Anniversary and put these on the graves of those
who were Marines. Somehow it got pushed off-kilter a bit,
and then froze that way. Click to zoom.

Miss you, Dad.

After the wreaths were laid, at 12pm across the country all participating groups have a service honoring those who served and who gave their lives for our country. At Western Reserve, there's a flagpole in the center of the cemetery with large circular logos around the base for each branch of the armed forces. A member of each branch laid a wreath on their logo as the honors were read for the particular branch.

I can't say that it eased the pain of remembering what we went through last year, but I can say that it warmed the heart a bit to know that maybe someone will come out and see a wreath was laid on their loved one's headstone.

Gone, but never forgotten.

Seriously... AGAIN?!!

Not a true post, but a quick update/venting session.

I went to the dentist this morning because it felt like one of my veneers was coming loose (if you remember back, there was an issue with some bad bonding agent and I had to have most redone). Specifically, its the tooth to the right of my right front tooth, or the #7 lateral incisor. I noticed at the beginning of last week that it bothered me when I'd bite down. Upon further inspection, I found that I could wiggle the tooth back and forth a little bit more than normal. Well, I should say normal for me - my front 4 teeth haven't 100% stabilized from the accident last year, and they all have a bit of "wiggle room" (clearly a technical term). I'm thinking they might pop off the veneer and cement it back on again... no big deal. Surely it's just an issue with the veneer.

Wrong.

The tooth is dying off.


... Are you effing kidding me?!


So, Wednesday I'll have a root canal at 7 in the morning (good morning!) in an attempt to save the tooth from totally dying. If it dies, I'll have to have an implant done. This isn't a complete shock to me, as I was warned initially that at any point in my life the teeth I damaged can just die off without warning. It's a phenomenon that dentists don't truly understand - you can be fine for years after a traumatic incident to your teeth, and then suddenly the body kills the tooth off. I just didn't think this would actually happen.

Here's to hoping my teeth stay in my mouth.

21 miles of freedom

Okay, I've REALLY been slacking on blogging. Whoops. I've been busy doing a whole lot of nothing stuff.

The past few weeks have been filled with traveling and catching up with friends I missed while I was on crutches. Two weeks ago I was released from having to use crutches. Words can't even describe my excitement. I asked the doc what the timelines looked like for my recovery. In short, the news was promising: I could return to cycling immediately, running in about 2-3 months. I'm allowed to be on an elliptical until my hearts content.

Naturally, being tired of staying indoors, I jumped at the chance to ride outside. The team had a few different rides going on, ranging from 18 miles for our newest of cyclists, to a quick 40 for those recovering from Ironman Florida. We met at Rileys Lock (near Potomac, MD) on Sunday for a beautiful fall ride. The weather was perfect - in the 50's and sunny. Cool enough to require a long sleeve jersey, but warm enough that the toes didn't freeze.

I have to admit, I was a bit hesitant getting out on the streets with the potential for heavy leaf coverage. Those of you who have been around for a while might recall my nasty run in with leaf cover approximately a year ago. I laughed as I donned my lightweight full-finger cycling gloves, still stained in blood from last year's crash (what, I washed them...). Lucky for me, the roads had recently been cleared and there was very little leaf coverage on the ride.

So how did I fare riding for the first time in two months? Overall, surprisingly well. My left leg was definitely doing more work and started to cramp a bit towards the end. My right ankle didn't hurt pedaling. The most notable issues were my ankle getting extremely cold from metal cooling due to the temperature, and the shock of every crack/bump in the road transferred directly from the road to my ankle. Ouch.

Time to spend the next few weeks building my leg muscles back up. I've invested in some Spinervals to help with my indoor training, as well as a better trainer (sadly, not a computrainer). Things are looking up.

Shortly I'll be writing a review on Vibram Five Fingers. I'm using this fashionable footwear to build up my feet again. So far, I'm really digging the feel of them. I never knew so many people looked at what shoes you wear though - the number of "are you wearing socks" and "are those really shoes?" I'm getting is remarkable.

Heading back to the 'Rowdy for Thanksgiving tomorrow night. (Whats the 'Rowdy you ask? Akron is also known as the AK Rowdy.. comes from a rap song about the city. Sadly, part of the lyrics include 'AK rowdy rowdy north side of summit county'... and as you can see, we're actually to the south side of the county... Never said our rising rap artists were educated). I'm absolutely EXCITED about eating Thanksgiving this year like a normal person, instead of through a syringe. Though, I must admit, sucking mashed potatoes through a syringe at the dinner table was a very classy maneuver.

Spectating the hard way

Crutches are officially ranked as one of the hardest ways to spectate an Ironman.


That begins on a beach.



Trying to catch up on some sleep after an amazing weekend in Panama City cheering on my friends! A full update later.

Into the fishbowl

For many, the idea of swimming laps brings about thoughts of dread and despair. Swimming back and forth is boring. Marginal yields of improvement over time. Never understanding why they don't have the speed in the water as others do. Never feeling the water. Only in the water to "survive" the swim in a race.

I'll never understand their mindset. And I can only hope that they can experience mine.

For me, there are very few things in life that top being in the pool. Often you'll hear a runner say the run to escape. I believe the pool is one of the ultimate escapes. Even in a crowded pool, it's difficult to be truly disturbed while swimming laps. No cell phone to worry about. There is nothing worth looking at on the bottom of the pool, so your attention doesnt wander. Sounds become nearly inaudible background noise as your eardrums become submersed and devoid of the outside world. To me, it's nice to have a small part of life that involves focused external stimulus of any kind. You're insulated in the pool, and have a completely clean slate allowing you to think quite clearly for the duration of the workout. There's no person on the treadmill chatting on his cell phone. No catching glimpses of the strange workouts people do in a gym. No SportsCenter blaring on the TV. No worries about changing to your next favorite song on your iPod. Its just you and you head, which is a rather rare and welcomed experience.

I've been cleared to swim, only with limited kicking. Sunday, I went back to the pool for the first time. It was just me and Sebastian in our lane.

I sat on the side of the pool, worried. What if I lost the feel for the water? How much muscle have I lost? What kind of toll has no cardio in 5 week taken on my abilities? What if my ankle hurts too bad to swim? My nerve endings jumped at the cool water on my skin as I slid in. Goggles adjusted and swim cap secure, I ducked under the surface and pushed off, awkwardly, with my left foot. I felt like a kid playing underwater again. Reaching the surface, I began the mechanical routine: catch it in the palm, pull back, rotate... you're gliding through the water. And then I struggled. Where are my feet? I can't roll.. my strokes off. whats happening to my form?

I'm dependant on my kick. Too dependant for a freestyler, and perfectly tuned for a backstroker. Explosive, tight kicks coming from the hips. Propelling the body forward as the arms assist. Feet pointed to make the lever as long as possible. It's what I know how to do. And suddenly, it's forced to be subsided. I struggled as I awkwardly tried to mimic those I've swam with that insist the legs need to be saved for the bike. Attempted a subdued two beat kick to facilitate roll. It just didn't feel right. The electric feeling of being in the water was slowing fading. Once back at the starting side, I grabbed my fingertip paddles and took another go. 25: Nothing. I couldn't catch the water right even with paddles. Somewhere between 25-50 meters in though, I felt it. Rocketing through the water, feeling the small twinges in the lats and triceps. I was back.

Last night I did a few threshold sets with the team. Feeling sheepish, I dropped down a lane because I didn't think I could keep up with my guys. I wasn't ready to commit to the testosterone driven sprints maintaining a paceline just yet. No paddles, no pull buoy, I grabbed onto the back of the lane beside me. I don't know where the speed came from, but I felt like I wasn't even completing pulls, yet I was running over these people. Convinced to go in the front for a 400 build, I pushed off the wall, again awkwardly with one leg.

A few small dolphin kicks later, I broke the water halfway down the pool and began the stroke. Smiling. It felt good... 3, sometimes 5 strokes before nonchalantly taking a breath. Still, dragging my feet in a paralyzed state behind my hips. 100 down, turn, pick it up. Alternating 1 to 3 stroke breathing. 200 down, turn, pick it up. Feel the arms burn, starting to kick a little. 300, down, turn, pick it up. Sprint. Slicing through the water, feet in a steady, tight 6 beat kick. turn, 50 left. make it hurt. It hurt. The rest of the lane was over a length behind me. I focused on increasing the speed of each passing rung on the ropes. Reaching the end of the set, my lungs were lit on fire from oxygen deprivation. It felt amazing. Submerged up to the neck while out of breath is an addiction. No need to lean against a wall or curl over onto the knees: The cool water lends its hand to support and keep the rest of the body relaxed, like a chilled omnipresent friend.


I've missed being in the fishbowl.