Double Vision

My life became two parts on March 14, 1985, when my car spun out of control and I suffered a terrible closed head injury causing me now to mark life's events with before the accident and after. I awoke to discover there were many things I didn't remember about my life before March 14. The people I recognized as well as the ones I didn't -- my immediate family and my then-new husband -- tried to explain it all to me. I listened and nodded and, many times, fell asleep. My weight dropped to 105 (a brain requires thousands of calories a day to heal) and, at 5’9”, made me look Olive Oyle-esque. On top of everything else, nerve damage to my left eye, gave me double vision. I saw two of everything, which made my world a little dizzying, until one of my doctors put a prism in my left eyeglass lens. With the prism, my vision was normal, but for others looking through my glasses, things were multiplied by three, four, five... I used it for a few years until my eye trained itself to see singly again. Seeing things differently has, figuratively, been the cause of many arguments, accidents and wars throughout history. Maybe a prism of some sort would be all that is needed to see a single resolution. I’m hoping to use my single vision focus while learning to surf. I sometimes give up when I get discouraged, but I need to “train” my vision (aka attitude) to stay positive and, during my surfing trip, possibly stand on a surf board in the ocean. I’ve now been living in part two longer than I lived in part one of my life. I've come to understand and appreciate life's delicate balance; the same sort of balance necessary to ride a wave.

I leave for my surf trip on March 14!

Elvis Presley and bareback riding

In 1968, my mother and father decided to take us kids (there were only three at the time) to the rodeo. They chose a day when my father was off and when us two older kids could miss school. I was five at the time, and I remember three specific things about the rodeo: the horses and cows were much bigger than I could have imagined; the rides were fabulous even though we only got to ride a couple of them; and Elvis Presley sang and then gave everyone autographed photos. My parents definitely didn't choose the rodeo performance because of the singer. My father preferred old-time country stars like Charlie Pride, but he was "stuck" with Elvis because of scheduling. In the years since then, I've been back to the rodeo a couple of times and I had the opportunity to go again last night. However, one of the things that I hadn't remembered from my long ago 1968 trip was the "sport" of the rodeo. Although in the past ten or so years I've attended numerous barrel races to watch my favorite barrel racer (my niece Kolbi) and know how difficult it is, I had discounted some of the other sports such as roping, bareback riding, saddle bronc riding and bull riding. I decided that the bareback riding, in particular, was similar to surfing. One had to have his/her balance, had to hold on tight and was at the mercy of a beast of nature. The really good ones learned to second guess his horse's next move. Most of the time, though, that was impossible to do. I think this will be similar to the waves. Although I can watch and try to second-guess what will happen next, I know that will be hard for me, not only because I'm a novice, but also because second guessing nature is next to impossible. Like the bareback rider, I'll probably just have to learn how to hold on tight.

"...I bet that she could teach the palms along the beach
To sway when breezes blow
And birds up in the sky could learn to fly..."
from "Rock-A-Hula Baby"
Elvis Presley

Spinning and cell phones

Spinning became one of my favorite winter cycling activities many years ago shortly after I took up riding. Because of the cold and the early sunsets, riding outside on the usual roads and paths is not always possible during the winter months. My first spinning experience took place in a local bicycle warehouse. A group of us gathered twice a week, bringing our own bikes and the trainers we had purchased. Our leader was a cyclist who rode with my cycling group; actually, he started with our group but rode with the racers. The classes provided exercise and the camaraderie that we experienced when we actually rode our bikes outside on the street. We had fun and worked out at the same time. Through the years since that first spin class, I've continued to spin, but not always with a group since I sometimes have to rely on tapes or DVDs alone in my living room. This year, though, I've been taking spin classes at my gym. The gym offers a variety of classes including a spin class four nights a week. On Mondays, the classes are at 5:30 p.m., which are always tricky for me since I leave work at 5 p.m. I get there a little late on Mondays and tonight was no exception. I was forced to take one of the only spin bikes left, which was located at the back of the room. It was a good class until...a phone rang. That's right, a fellow spinner got a call and then proceeded to take the call. She never left the room and held a 3- to 5-minute conversation with her friend. Although a few of us looked back at her, she never stopped talking. I hope it was important. It must have been. (A similar incident happened at the movie theater on Saturday.) I'm not sure why we all need the communication gear that we have, myself included. I don't plan to take my cell phone on my surf trip; I'm going to survive the week without it. I will have my computer though. I can't go cold turkey for a whole week; I must at least be able to send e-mails. At least I can make it through a one-hour spin class though!