Getting something back...

 Monday, June 21, 2021

I climbed aboard my road bike and headed out on what I hoped would be a 30-mile ride.  This was to be my fifth day in a row of 30-mile+ rides, something I had not done in several years.  Since Tour Ohio, I've not had anything cycling related to keep me focused on that kind of training.  And I've gotten lazy.  Not anymore!

I live in Cuyahoga Valley, so any ride I do forces me out of the saddle and up some hills, which is what I need if I'm going to ride the Colorado Rockies, I suppose.  I figured my legs would be tired and climbing was going to be a chore.  Look...I'm 66, I've gained a few pounds, and I haven't been doing any consistent cardio in way too long.

I hit Major Road after five miles of level riding and began an ascent that lasts over a mile.  The grades aren't bad, but the heart rate climbs over 150 and it's a good test of the quads.  I had ridden this same course two days ago and had struggled near the top.  But that was then.  I climbed almost effortlessly and continued on hitting my next hill and climbing that without coming out of the saddle, which is a very good sign.  I finished the ride over rolling hills over the next hour and pedaled into my driveway feeling pretty good about myself.  I have always gotten into cycling shape quickly over the years, but I really figured things would be different now.  

I finished the day with a hike and took my steps over 20,000 for the sixth straight day.  I hope to continue that trend, as well.

I've got lots of packing to do for my trip to Michigan, which begins tomorrow after my morning ride.  I'm taking the kayak, mountain bike, running and hiking shoes and intend to come back in ten days or so a much fitter man.  I'll be sleeping in the camped out mini-van and have packed 10 different meals I've been freezing as I make too much to eat at any one sitting over the past month.  I have no set itinerary and will drive through national forests and state parks looking for interesting trails to hike and ride.  If I see a lake or stream I like, I'll stop and pull the kayak from the roof.  Retired and living the dream...

Bike Duration: Two hours

Calories Burned: 1,500

Training Heart Rate:130

Steps for the day: 21,500

Colorado Rocky Mountain High...

Monday, June 21, 2021
 

"It's one of the most beautiful rides I've ever done," Todd Miller explained when I asked him about the Copper Triangle Ride in Colorado.  "It climbs and descends through some amazing mountains including going over Fremont Pass, which is above 11,000 feet.  The descents are a thrill!"

Todd and I have known each other since high school.  We rode together after graduating to visit my grandparents in Buchanan, New York, a two-week trip that covered over 1,100 miles.  We also rode the 1,100 miles of Tour Ohio together.  

Over the years I matured into a normal sixty-plus year-old man who knew his limits and no longer got enjoyment from punishing myself.  He, on the other hand, morphed into a maniac on a bicycle.

"Okay...maybe I'll do it, but I'll take it slow and enjoy the ride," I offered.

"No way!  I'll push you and egg you on and if you dog it, I'll threaten you with embarrassing pictures which I'll post on Facebook," he said.

"Have you seen the pictures I've posted of myself on Facebook?  There is really nothing you can do to embarrass me," I warned.

The ride is in early August and to be ready for this single day 80-mile ride, I need to do some serious training for the next seven weeks.  In that 80 miles which begins at 8,000 feet, it goes over three mountain passes and has a total elevation gain of almost 6,000 feet, which is some serious climbing!  When I made the call to him, I had been riding maybe twice a week with very little climbing.  Things have changed now as I completed my fourth straight day of at least a two-hour ride at distances between 30-35 miles.

I NEED a challenge to really get in shape.  I NEED a destination, though I try to enjoy the journey.  My goal will be at least five days of riding a week and some weight loss along the way.  I'm eating better, following mostly Paleo diet having stepped up my consumption of fruits, smoothies and salads.  

I spoke to Todd's sister, Wendy, who lives almost on the course and got information regarding the ride from a more reasonable, like-minded individual.  

"You're brother is insane," I suggested.

"He is.  Absolutely," she agreed.

She told me she has done the ride twice and it is doable for anyone willing to put in some training, so I'm moving forward with a plan that will have me capable of doing the ride, but with the intention of going out there, doing some riding and some climbing, too.  

"There are some great hikes and peaks nearby, John, and maybe you'd enjoy that more," she said.  

She's right.  Sorry, Todd.  My journey doesn't include the pain to the level you seek, but I enjoy it none the less.

Trying...Again...

 It's been over a year since I last posted my thoughts publicly.  During that time, several things have happened that should have changed my life.  I think they did.

1.  Last fall, after going through a couple of weeks of an unrelenting temperature that was not covid, a tumor was discovered on my lung with corresponding swelling in my lymph nodes.  Together, my doctor explained, it likely meant I had inoperable cancer.  After a biopsy showing it was not, I felt I'd been given a second lease on life.

2.  I fully retired on July 23rd of 2020.

3.  Dakota...my dog, my best buddy, my faithful hiking partner, succumbed to a tumor in her right front paw.  She was fifteen and my house is so empty without her.

4.  My daughter Savannah had her first child, a boy she named Forrest.

5.  My son Jason had his third child, a boy he named William after his grandfather.

6.  I broke off a relationship with a lady I had been seeing for almost five years.

Of course, all of these things have worked to reshape the person I am today - as I write.  Together, they have caused me to access what is important in my life.  Some things that used to seem to have relevance do not, and other have taken on much greater significance.  And it's really the simple things.

I notice more as I take my hikes through the woods.  It's hard not to think of Dakota as I go, but I also tend to take more notice of the things along the way.  The water smells different; better.  The wind seems to make more sound and brush against my cheeks in a more noticeable way.  There seems to be more things for me to photograph; more things catch my eye or seem significant enough to capture digitally...and keep.

So anyways, it's time to do something...do more.  I'm retired and I need to live like I am.  I need to condition myself and take the trips and take on the challenges I've been waiting to take.  I need to write; to do more worth writing about.  And I need or I should say 'want' to find someone who would like to do things with me, to love me and to be loved by me.  That part will be the trickiest because like God tells Bruce in 'Bruce Almighty', he'll have all the power of God but will not be able to make anyone fall in love with him.  

This is just to kick-start my quest to do all of the above.  I've been riding and hiking, but now it will be with a purpose about which I will try to write in some way that makes it interesting enough for people to read.  Here goes...

I went for my third ride on the mountain bike my brother gave to me last week.  My ass continues to take a pounding, likely from being in a position that, for the last fifty years of riding, is not one I'm used to.  On this bike, I sit upright and place most of the weight of my upper body on my butt...and that's painful after an hour or so.  On a road bike, I lean forward on the 'drop' bars and put some portion of the weight of my upper body on my shoulders, arms, hands.  But today, after an hour and fifteen minutes of riding, I actually still felt pretty good.  And...it's fun!

I rode and thought about the difference in the way I feel about the ride itself.  Somehow and in some way, I think it is reminding me of why I got on a bike in the first place and what I liked about that.  Of course that first serious bike was a single gear, chain driven start and stop on large, balloon tires.  The handlebars were essentially straight across and caused us to ride sitting upright.  You could see all around you, and that was the idea...to see where you were going and to look for the next best thing to do.  I certainly didn't ride it to get 'a workout', whatever the hell that was.  In fact, when I was riding for the first time in the middle sixties, I don't think working out had been invented yet.  It certainly hadn't been for kids.  We stayed fit, if you'd call it that, by playing hard and doing our chores.  That's it...and it worked pretty well.

Anyways, I'm riding the towpath, a hard-crushed path of limestone screenings and other road materials used in these multi-purpose trails.  I'm working harder than I ever did on my road bike because I'm trying to maintain a certain speed on a bike that is probably ten pounds heavier than my road bike.  And although it is a good workout, that isn't the purpose of the ride.  I feel like it's about having fun on a bike for the first time in I can't remember when.

 

The (semi) retirement guy expands his cooking horizons...

Thursday, February 6, 2020

When you live alone, you need to cook.  I started cooking for myself six years ago, but have was limited to about six different things.  I make split pea soup, chili, Chicken fettuccini, Amish casserole, spaghetti, a dish full of beans, chorizo sausage, vegetables and quinoa, French toast, grilled cheese, salmon, and some frozen dinners.  I tend to make quantities enough to feed about eight and then eat them for several days in a row.

I can do those things pretty well and that would get me through, but I was missing all the Rolf family traditional dinners Holly had made for the forty years of our marriage.  That was until about two weeks ago.

I asked Holly to write down the recipe for things like kiniflies, gravy, chicken and beef stew, and baked chicken.  I looked up my father-in-laws’ recipes for chicken paprikash and decided I’d tackle that, as well.  Many of the family recipes include the spaetzel noodle – something we refer to as a ‘kiniflie’ noodle or dumpling, and is simply eggs, flour, and a little water.  I called Holly via ‘face time’ when I tried to make them for the first time.

“How do the noodles look?” I asked, pointing the phone into the mixing bowl and stirring for her to see.

“They’re too runny,” she said and watched as I added flour and continued to stir.  It took several more additions before she finally said I had the consistency I wanted.  Sometimes technology is a blessing.

I was making the dish we refer to as ‘kiniflies’, which is the noodle topped with fried bread crumbs and onions and topped with catsup.  It’s an acquired taste, though I only had to have them once to be forever in love with them.

As I began to cut in the raw dough into the boiling, salted water, I stirred the bread crumbs which I’d made by drying out and cubing the fantastic bread I get from Panera’s.  They were sautéing in Crisco and butter along with the onions.  There is a knack to cutting just the right amount of dough with each stroke of the knife, as that determines the size of the dumpling noodle and how it cooks.  It was a knack I didn’t possess.  The dough was sticking to the knife and wouldn’t release and I was getting frustrated until I remembered watching Holly dip the knife into the boiling water as she cut the noodles.  I tried it and suddenly I was rolling along.

John was over for dinner and had eaten kiniflies many times over the years at our dinner table.  I figured he would serve as the test dummy.

“These are great – just the way I remember them,” he said.  I tasted them and agreed, high-fiving him for my own success.

“I sure can cook,” I bragged, very pleased with myself.

Later, I would make chicken paprikash and put it over kiniflie noodles, getting a similar reaction from Miggie.  “Wow John, this is really, really good!”

She is an amazing cook and from her it was a compliment that meant something.  John would eat the sole of my shoe if I slathered it in butter.

All this new found cooking talent and enjoyment has me concerned about caloric consumption and exercise.  I will definitely have to up the ante and I have a plan for that starting tomorrow with a trip to the Cuyahoga Falls Recreation Center.  I’ve heard they have an excellent Natatorium and complete and modern workout facilities and although I don’t like to work out indoors, do want a place to swim and may avail myself of the other facilities throughout the winter months.  I’ll report on my findings next.

Doing nothing is okay...

Saturday, February 1, 2020

I’m currently reading a book called ‘The Stranger in the Woods’ by Michael Finkel, which is the true story of Maine hermit Chris Knight who, at age 20, left everything behind and trekked off into the woods of northern Maine where he set up a camp only a short distance from North Pond and lived, without human contact, for the next 27 years.  Only twice during that time did he encounter other people and both times only in passing on a trail.  He lived by stealing from over 100 cabins situated in the woods around and near North Pond, which was only a short distance from his hideaway camping site.  He never started a fire.  He cooked on a Coleman stove and slept in a tent under a tarp in winters that often saw temperatures plunging to minus 20 degrees and colder.  After over an estimated 1,000 break-ins, he was finally captured in 2013.

In reading the account, I have been struck by several things about survival for sure, but I am more fascinated by his interest and willingness – maybe necessity – to be entirely alone.  I have done several camping trips where I have been without human contact for several days, but in each situation would eventually come upon another person and was anxious to converse.  I avoid going alone and only do it when no one else is available to join me because I get the greatest enjoyment sharing in the serene beauty I experience and talking about what we’ve seen and done around a campfire at the day’s end.

The book and his experience has gotten me thinking again about walking one of the big trails of North America, though.  There is much conversation in the book about the need for solitude and doing absolutely nothing in an effort to explore one’s deepest thoughts.  Without total silence it is quite impossible and, in my experience, is best accomplished in outdoor places full of natural beauty and splendor.  It also has the absolute requirement of being completely comfortable with doing nothing…and this is really difficult because, for me at least, doing nothing makes me feel guilty.  Doing nothing, thinking and contemplating, is doing something and I have to remind myself that it’s not only okay, it’s actually very healthy physically, mentally, and, in my case, spiritually.  It is during these times that I reflect on who I am, how I’m comporting myself and whether and how to improve.  I come away from these soul-searching events committed to being a better version of myself and look for ways to put it in motion.  It makes me happier and feeling better about myself.  It is a good thing.

This is the winter that hasn’t happened yet and I’m not complaining.  I managed a bike ride in 50-degree weather the other day, the fourth ride of the winter.  I’m realizing how much I enjoy cooking and have been tackling old family recipes with the result being plenty of calorie consumption.  I need the winter to stay warm so that I can burn the excess on long rides.  Since I’m also getting out and taking long walks with Dakota and have been almost every day of my retirement, I’ve managed to maintain a semblance of fitness, but it’s far from enough to satisfy me and is the other compelling reason for me to have something like the Appalachian Trail to plan to hike.  We’ll get to that later…

Social Security and making it worthwhile...

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

The following is not a ‘how to/when to’ on signing up for social security.  It’s just one semi-retirement guy’s experience.

Having gotten past the disclaimer…not that anyone in their right mind would ever follow my advice…here’s my story.

I started looking harder at my annual ‘Social Security Statement’ shortly after my divorce.  I really hadn’t considered that the payment I’d be entitled to would be anything more than a supplement to whatever money I had in a pension plan and my savings account.  It was actually much more than that.

I was born in 1955, which determines my social security benefits eligibility timeline, and that meant I could begin drawing benefits at age 62, though only 75% of the monthly amount I would receive if I worked the additional fifty months to age 66 and 2 months.  It was a nice number for doing the math.  I figured quickly that my monthly payment would increase by ½% for every month I continued to work past my first eligibility date and so I plugged along towards the full 100%, but with the full knowledge that I’d likely get out early.

When I did finally sign up, I had reached 64 and 8 months – 16 months and 8% shy of my potential, full payment.  I had decided it would be worth it to leave some money on the table so that I could avoid working two more winters and have more time for camping, backpacking, cycling and traveling.  I knew my recreational pursuits with physically taxing and thought that I needed to get started if I was going to travel all of North America’s rugged backcountry.

I considered that by taking payments early, I was collecting a sum of money for 18 months that I otherwise never would have received.  I also recognized that if I’d waited, that monthly amount would have been greater – for the rest of my life.  By my calculations, I would be 82 before the extra monthly payment I would have received by working to 66 and 2 months caught up to the money I was getting for retiring early.  After 82, I would be going in the hole each month.  

I asked myself two smaller questions and one big one.  First, would I live until age 82?  No Rolf men in my family on this side of the pond have ever made it past 80, so there’s that.  Second, would the difference I’d be receiving in that higher monthly amount – somewhere around $200 – be the difference between living on my own or on the public dole?  I didn’t think so.

And then the bigger question: what would I do with the gift of time I would be receiving by not having to go to work each day?  That, of course, is what really matters…to me, anyway.

I’m not traveling yet since I still have to report to work twice a week, but that time is coming.  I’ll be off to Washington D.C. this weekend to get some time with my son, Jack, and to visit an old friend and discuss volunteer opportunities and incorporating ‘Leave No Trace’ principles into sailing on the Chesapeake.  I’ll also be spending time with my sister, who will be going to the same event.

I’ve started having family dinners with my extended family, Miggie, John and Teri, and others and am always looking for a way to be with family and friends.  I’m reading, writing, and when I’m not sick, doing more outside activities. 

So for me retiring was so much more than a financial decision.  It’s really all about time, having as much quality as I can, and figuring out what ‘things’ I can do without so that I can make it work.  And yes, so far at least, I’m using the time in a way that doesn’t make me regret semi-retirement.

A new life...

Friday, January 17, 2020

Much of the reading I’ve been doing lately are biography/autobiography stories.  Not only do I find them fascinating, I couldn’t put down ‘Boys in the Boat’ for example, but I’m reading them as self-help.  I’m interested in styles; what people include in their writing that makes it fascinating for the reader.  I want to be that writer.  Nothing for me feels better than to have someone tell me they like what I’ve written.

I just finished a short story by Katie Arnold, a writer for ‘Outside’ magazine called ‘Running Home’.  The ‘running’ part of it listed my attention and as I discovered she is an ultra-distance runner, had enough to get started.  It was a compelling story about growing up moving between divorced parents and her struggle with losing her beloved father to cancer.  Early in her professional career, she leaves a job in New York City that offered financial stability and security to go to an internship position in Santa Fe, New Mexico earning all of $5 per hour and for only six months.  Something in her gut told her it was the thing to do, and through determination and hard work, makes it work out.  She comments at some point about how proud she was for making her own life.

It got me to thinking about my situation and how, for the first time in my life, I’d done the same thing.  Though rebellious as a child and always looking to go my own way, I was married by age 20 and nothing I did from that day forward was done without at least some consideration for, and input from, Holly.  When Holly and I parted ways several years ago, I continued to live in the house we’d raised our family in and tried as much as humanly possible to keep the old parts of my life intact.  That offered security and comfort.  I was adverse to, and afraid of, risk.  What if everything came crashing down and I wouldn’t be able to afford my home?  And yet I knew living in a house with six bedrooms and 3,500 square feet of space was about 3,000 more than I needed.  That – and it brought along a list of healthy expenses that could curtail any chance at retirement.

So I moved.  I figured out a way to buy a place in Cuyahoga Valley National Park; a modular home with neighbors a little over an arm’s length away and nothing like anywhere I’d ever lived before.  I managed to keep my house in the family by having my son take it over and, for now, make payments to me that I make to the bank until such time that he can get financing for it.  I bought a van I didn’t really need and began to convert it into a camping vehicle.  I picked a date to retire, filed for social security, ended my medical coverage and signed up for a short-term program, and, on January 1, began living a new and very different life.  I’m still forging and smelting the metal of my new life, but I’m doing it alone and it feels…invigorating!  It’s a little thing to lots of folks, but it’s something bigger to me and I’m proud, anxious, and excited.  At the very least, it’s a start.