Things I learned (re-learned) from UltraRunners

As you may know from my previous posts, I am a singer, voice teacher, and pianist. It never ceases to amaze me how closely intertwined the mindset is for athletes and musicians. Even a major best selling book has been written about it. "The Inner Game of Tennis" by Timothy Gallwey, which he later adapted to "The Inner Game of Music" with the help of Barry Green details the mental game that takes place to be a suceessful athlete or musician. I've found it to be particularly akin to singers as we use our bodies like an athlete.  I've mentioned some of the similarities in my post "It Takes One to Know One". But just recently, I have been reminded to re-learn a few things from the ultrarunners in my life. Here are a few of my thoughts:

You better like training
This one is is the foundation. You have to want to train. You have to want to spends hours on the trail. Oftentimes they are by yourself for hours. And then there are the group runs. If you don't like the group, then it's great that you can run alone and vice versa. Either way you have to love being out there. As a musician, you have to want to be in the practice room. I started my music education as pianist. Practicing the piano is a very lonely endeavor and as  a fairly social person I found myself very unhappy with the practice room by the time I hit college. In defiance, instead of majoring in piano, I chose to major in voice.  (Big rebellion there, I know.) Although I had to practice on my own for several hours a week, I discovered the joy of rehearsing with others, whether it was in the choir, a show, or with my pianist. All of sudden, all that solitary practice led to rehearsal with other people which meant such joy for me! I found my desire to train again!

I had a former student that told me when her mother said it was time to go to rehearsal she always would shout "Whoohoo!!!! Rehearsal!!!!" If you can't shout "Whoohoo! Rehearsal!" or "WhooHoo! Training!" the majority of the time, then it might be a good idea to find a different activity.

Enjoy the journey
100 miles is really long! So are performance schedules where you perform 7 days a week with a total of 8 performances. (That's the Broadway schedule.) Or, 5-6 performances per week with rehearsals during the day for the next show. (That's more of the opera schedule.) That would be like running four hours everyday and 8 on Saturdays.You better enjoy as much of the journey as you can because you're going to be there a while. Which brings me to:

Is your pace sustainable?
You've done the training, you've arrived at the race. You then have to ask yourself the following questions. Did you over train or are you ready? Do you need to start out slowly or is a faster pace going to be better? Or in the case of a singer, did you practice enough or too much? Can you sustain the length of the show? Is your throat too tired or are you in good shape? Have you taken on too many performances with rehearsals on top of them? Do you have time for family and friends? for yourself? Can you make it to the end of the race? Where is the "end" of the race for you....? Can you sustain the pace?

Recovery is 30% of training
Recovery, rest, sleep, eating correctly, saying "no" to going out when you really need to stay in. These are all extremely important to both the athlete and musician. And I would go one further with singers: no talking when you are not singing. Those muscles need rest. And my favorite: It's OK to take a nap!

You are only as good as your crew and support team
A missed water bottle, no fuel, clothing isn't available, a pacer who doesn't know you and your mental bandwidth, you spouse/partner is less than supportive... the list can go on. These things are crucial to a successful race. In a singing career, you may do 100 auditions in a year and only get one callback. You better have your support system in place to sustain you through the long haul. Those loving and encouraging words at the end of the day (or at the aid station) are what's going to keep you motivated to stay in the race or even to continue to train!

It's ok to be mid-pack as long as you know that you have done your absolute best.
I think this is the single most important item on this list. It has taken me almost my whole life to be "OK" with being a "mid-pack" singer. That always sounds so bad to me. But let's think about the picture of the ultrarunning community and the professional singer community. How many people actually run ultras in comparison to the world population? It's a very small percentage. And how many people actually sing the big vocal repertoire and perform it fairly regularly? Again, not very many in comparison to the world population. As ultrarunners and singers, we get to do something that most people never get to think about, let alone attempt! The fact that as runners you get to see and experience places that most people only dream about is truly exceptional. And as singers, we experience the emotions and exquisite beauty that is only found in what we do. It doesn't matter if the level of running or singing is only midway from the head of the pack, that is still way beyond what most people only dream about. In the end, you have to run your own race and everyone else's times and opinions be damned!


So in the spirit of the ultra psyche, here is a bit of my "ultra running"...I mean singing....

My Husband Ran the Race But I am the One Still Recovering

Lat weekend, Duke ran the Rio del Lago 100 mile, or almost ran the Rio del Lago 100 mile. Let's just say he got 75 miles down the trail and had to call it a day (or night in this case). Let me rewind a little bit...

Friday Morning:
Duke leaves for the starting line. He gets a great night's sleep and is up and ready at 3:00 Saturday morning. The only issues were they had changed the course and rearranged aid stations last minute and therefore he had to scramble to reorganize his drop bags.

Saturday Morning:
I leave the house with the kids, an ice chest, chairs to sit on, a couple of blankets an extra backpack of things for Duke, and snacks for the kids. (Turns out later, this wasn't enough.) We pick up our friend, Ramiro, and head down the road. I was smart enough to leave earlier than I had originally planned knowing full well that I get panicky when I think I am going to miss Duke at an aid station. We arrived at the first station with 30-40 minute to spare. Duke was ahead of schedule! Glad I left early!

Saturday Afternoon:
We arrive at the next aid station only to find out that no crew it allowed there. Apparently one of the changes in the schedule that we didn't know about. We parked a little ways around the corner and waited for Duke. Of course he went through the aid station without seeing us until he came around the corner. I had texted him but he wasn't reading his texts. So he had already eaten at the station and he didn't want what I had ready for him except the fruit. It was when he argued with me about taking his hat and sunglasses that I began to get that "feeling" in the pit of my stomach. But as usual, I ignored it. I had kids bickering with each other and arguing with me, so I just pushed it aside and headed to the next aid station.

Saturday Early Evening:
We decided to get as early dinner before parking at the aid station that was just adjacent to the restaurant. I had kids to feed and it seemed like we had plenty of time. Again, the feeling in the pit of my stomach. By the time we ate and drove next door, the next parking space was at least a half a mile down the road. Duke was early, again, we had all of our stuff to haul up to meet him, and no hot food waiting for him. Never mind, he was fine. Ramiro began pacing him and we got ready for him to come around the loop for his next break.

Saturday Late Evening:
By this time, Duke's second pacer, Anil, had arrived to take over. Anil is a seasoned ultrarunner so I knew Duke would be in good hands. Anil insisted that we go get the pizza and hot coffee for Duke. I went along with it although my gut told me that he wouldn't want it. (It turns out I was right about this.) While we waited with the pizza, Ramiro came running up with out Duke. He had run ahead because they realized that the things that Duke needed were in the backpack in the car! When Duke came around the second time he ate a little, drank something warm, and put on a light jacket. We were emptying out backpacks trying to find his Tailwind (electrolyte drink) and a few other things when I knew something wasn't right about his drop bags and equipment. The problem was,  I couldn't put my finger on what was missing and/or where it was. That feeling again...

Sunday Morning 1:30, 75 miles:
I get a text from Anil. Duke was done. I knew I had to call and hear his voice. In the past I have talked to him and known that he was just tired but could keep going.  He was cold, tired, and he was walking a 1-2 mile and hour pace. When I heard his voice this time, I knew it was time to quit. My heart sank a little as I knew how disappointed he was going to feel in a few hours. But I also could tell that he was toast. Ramiro went to pick him up and bring him to the hotel. I laid awake for the hour that it took. I knew that Duke was ok, but I could feel his disappointment as keenly as if it were my own.
When he walked through the door, he was dragging one leg. It threw me back in time to when my mother had had massive hip surgery. A procedure that had bone grafting and screws and she couldn't bear weight on it for 6 months. I remember her first day home. She had gotten herself out of bed with her walker and was leaning of the walker, then standing on the good leg as she dragged the other leg forward by pulling on her sweat pants. Duke didn't have to literally drag his leg, but the next morning he had to lift it with his hands to bring it up and tie his shoe.

It is safe to say, he was smart to end his race early.

When we woke up in the morning, I asked him how he was doing. He replied, "Emotionally or physically?". That's a good question, both. We are now one week later and he is out on a 10 mile fun run with Ramiro. I think he's fine.

So a few things I took away from this experience:

1) I love to support my husband. I hate crewing. But I love him enough to want to love crewing!

2) Don't crew with kids along. (Unless they are old enough and invested enough to really help.)

3) Load the car like it's a camping trip, that way you will everything you could possibly need. This includes all equipment as well as food.

4) Don't try to take care of anyone else besides your runner. There isn't time and it will just stress you out.

5) Follow your gut instincts. They are almost always correct and if they aren't, then most likely you are just over prepared and there is NOTHING wrong with that!


People have been asking Duke if he is looking forward to the next one. He was ready to do another one the next day, just to prove to himself that he can finish 100 miles. I have no doubt that he will finish 100 miles. I just don't need for him to try and prove it anytime soon. I am still recovering from crewing!

Oh, there is one thing that made the whole weekend worth while. I got to be a groupy in the best way possible. When we went to the finish line to get Duke's drop bags, I ran into Rocket (Errol Jones). (I met Rocket when I gave him a ride after a DNF at the Quicksilver 100k.) Rocket was standing there talking to a couple of people. I went up to him to give him a hug and I realized that he was standing next to one of the biggest legends in the ultra community, Ann Trason. Rocket was kind enough to introduce me to her. As always with this community, she was gracious and kind. So if that is who I get to talk to at these races then, ok Duke, you may run another one. ;)

Sorry.....I'm Not Sorry

Friday night at 8:00, Duke and I hauled the kids up to a cheap hotel (not really, it was actually expensive but it sure looked cheap. Thank you Bay Area prices) in Pacifica so that he could start a 100k training run. The plan was to start there and basically run home. Of course, being the good ultra runner widow that I am, I said I would provide support in the form of a mobile aid station. He would start at 6:00, I would drive to his 15 mile mark later in the morning and then jump ahead of him every 5-10 miles. Of course, an all day event like this takes some planning.

All week long, Duke would hand me new print outs of maps or send me spreadsheets of times and places to meet him. I realized that he had no list of things that he would need so I decided that as "crew captain" I had better get one started. I put together a list of food, first aid, and clothing that he would need and shared it with him on Google Docs so that he could add to it. I went to the grocery store 2 days before to obtain the necessary items, boiled eggs the day before, and sat with him the night before going over the maps.

Things went quite smoothly Friday night (except for my cranky attitude. Apparently I get stressed worrying about the details.) We got to bed at the hotel around 10:00 which is just perfect considering the fact that one doesn't usually sleep very well in a foreign bed. And that theory proved itself to be true when I spent the night waking up from dreams where I had already gotten up and helped Duke get ready. I think I helped him get ready twice in my sleep without ever waking up! No one can say that I don't care about his success in these endeavors. Apparently I do it in my sleep!

Eventually, Duke got up for real and got himself ready to go. Notice I said he got himself ready. I didn't need to do anything but get out the food for him. So much for worrying in my sleep! He left at exactly the time we had set. I got the kids up an hour and a half later, took them to breakfast, and headed out of town AFTER stewing over the map to figure out where I was supposed to meet Duke. Apparently we hadn't gone over the first meeting point as thoroughly as we had the other spots.

I finally called him and luckily his phone was on and he had cell coverage. Apparently he got lost for about 15 minutes and then later got stopped by the water company and was given a warning citation for trespassing. (That's his story to tell!) We finally connected at the designated point and he was only 15 minutes behind schedule.  He looked just fine and acted just fine but my wifely instincts (in hindsight) didn't feel fine.

Our next stop was an hour later so the kids and I ran into Half Moon Bay to get fuel for the car and fuel for Mom, i.e. Starbucks. With coffee in hand we drove back up to Skyline and sat in the parking lot of the Mountain House restaurant for the next 30 minutes. By this time what was supposed to be an hour between the last aid station (15 mile mark) this one (21 mile mark) had turned into almost an hour and a half.

When Duke arrived the first thing he did was lie down on the ground...at 21 miles. Ok, well, it was a long hill up to this spot so I guess that's warranted. He's a tough guy, former Marine, he knows what he's doing. Load him up, fill him up with food and ship him out! We'll meet him in 10 miles, 2-3 hours, at Alice's Restaurant. An hour later I get a text:

"So I think this is not my day".

Me: "oh no, why?"

Duke: "No energy, been walking the last 3 miles"

Me: "So what do you want to do?"

Duke "Just come get me. I'm on the highway now."

Me: "Are you sure?"
        "Headed out now"

Duke: "Yes, I think I need to recover more before Rio Del Lago"


At this point a couple of things were going through my head. Any good crew captain would assess the situation and see if there was anyway the the runner could keep going. Obviously he wasn't hurt and he could still walk therefore in most race situations he just needed to keep going. A short rest, some more food and then send him on his way. But I must admit that at the bottom of my thoughts, the first thing to go through my head was, "yay! now we get to spend the day together!" So not only does Duke feel like a loser for quitting but I feel guilty for being happy that he quit. Great combination!

The kids and I found him on the side of the road and we drove back to Alice's Restaurant and had lunch. All through lunch I kept asking him if he wanted to start running again. (All the while hoping that he didn't.) He said he was done. He felt it was better to rest this weekend as he has another 50k next weekend and the Rio Del Lago 100 miler in November. (Yay!!) He felt that it was a smart judgement call. I have to admit that he actually was being mature about this run. I mean, he even packed toilet paper!!!

By the time we got home, Duke was still tired. My wifely instincts had been correct. This was just not his day. Something wasn't right about the run even though it was planned quite well. I think that if my energy had been more in line with his finishing the run, he might have been able to do it. Maybe. It's hard to know. All I know is that I got to spend the rest of my day with him and that was heaven! So honey, sorry...I'm not sorry that you didn't finish! I think we were both winners yesterday!

To Poop or Not To Poop

Disclaimer: this post is not a particularly "PG" post. Not all of my readers will enjoy it...(Mom). 

Believe it or not, the subject of bowel movements comes up often in an ultra runners household. You would think that it is a moot point as normally if we need to use the facilities we do so without discussing it. But what do you do when there AREN'T any facilities? This is the crux of the conversations that I am "privy" to in my house. And yes, puns are intended throughout this post. How else am I going to add levity to this poopy subject?

For those of you that are not part of an ultra runners "running" dialogue after their weekly outings, let me take you through a typical conversation when my husband gets home.

Me: How was your run?

Duke: Good!...Great!

Me: Good!.......So.......(knowing full well that the poop, I mean scoop, would come out sooner or later and we might as well hear about while it's fresh.)

Duke: Well, I ended up turning around at the cutoff instead of taking it as planned due to the fact that there was no trail there.....(this goes on for a while)

Me: mm-hmmm....mm-hmmmm (etc.)

*silence*

Duke: Actually, I needed to poop and couldn't decide if I should go while I was out there and if so, where should I go.

(here it comes)

Duke: I thought there would be an outhouse at "X" point but there wasn't. I could have gone at "Y" but that place is gross. (This is a prior service Marine with with war experience we are listening to. If he thinks it's gross, it most likely is.) At that point I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I really needed to go!

(I am now rolling my eyes wondering when this crappy subject was going to end.)

Duke: Then I saw these really big leaves! So I gathered a bunch up and ran to a spot that was private enough. It worked great!

Me: Okaaaaaayyyyy...glad it all came out ok. Maybe you should carry some T.P. with you just in case.

Duke: Yeah, I've been thinking about that.


OK. Why is he just thinking about it?! Just do it for shit's sake! Just take the damn T.P. and be prepared! You can then just go whenever the need strikes. No worries over what clean up tools you will use! AND I won't have to hear about your worries over where, when, and how you were going to take a dump. Apparently this isn't just an issue with my husband. I got to hear about this from his runner friend over the weekend who's wife backed up the fact that she hears about it too.

My question is, why do we have to talk about it? I mean, I know that we all poop. It's like Number 2 on our list of important things to do everyday, next to Number 1. But do we really need to talk about it? Apparently, we do. So my next question is, why?! When I asked Duke about this his answer was, of course, quite simple.

Because it's fun!

Fun for you, my dear, but it's really shitty for me to listen to!

It Takes One to Know One

I will admit, I have been kind of ticked off at Duke the last 24 hours. And I will admit that that my mood has been slowly developing the last two weeks. Why two weeks ago, you ask, and not three years ago? Maybe it's because it was around two weeks ago that I officially said I would start really supporting his running. I made this decision when I realized that he was really serious about running his first 100 miler.

When Duke signed up for his first 100 mile, he informed me that it will the Angeles Crest 100. I had just heard about this race via his comments that some of the best runners he knows had DNF'd this summer. NOT a good sign for his first 100 mile! Friends told him he should do an easier 100 mile before AC 100 for "practice". I agreed that it was not only a good idea but really essential for his success at the AC 100. After all, I don't need the father of my children dying out on the trail due to lack of training. So logic says, one must prepare for the big event properly....

WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!?!?!?!?!?!

So now my husband's training schedule has changed. More runs, longer runs, more core workouts, and more cross training. Yesterday morning (Friday), instead of having coffee with me, he rode his bike down the mountain from our house into work. That's when I got ticked off. And I stayed in that mood. Only a visit to the salon to get my hair washed seemed to perk me up. (It was either that or retail therapy and so I chose the cheaper one.) By last night I was in a slightly better mood as we had company over to the house for drinks and it was a nice distraction. That is until Duke started getting his running things together while we were still entertaining guests!

By this time I knew I had better figure out how I was going to handle the next several years of my life. I knew I couldn't stay angry at Duke or the situation or else we were going to have major problems. That's when I had to ask myself, "Why are you supporting this? You know that if you asked Duke to stay home, he would! What is it that makes you want to not only support him but even coach him a little? Why are you ok with dragging the whole family out camping in the Sierra's just so Duke can have a training run?" Then it hit me: It takes one, to know one.

What do I mean by this? Well, you have to know a little bit about me to understand how I am like an ultra runner without actually running. When you think about it, it takes a certain kind of obsessive psyche to dedicate oneself to something as dramatic as ultra running. So, you ask, what is as dramatic as ultra running? I would have to say drama itself. The ultimate form of over the top drama: Opera. I am a trained opera singer and voice teacher. I started training to be a musician when I was four years old. My parents are also musicians, my mother a pianist, my father a singer. I was born into the obsessive, dramatic, beautifully stressful, and creative world of the arts where nothing is done "half assed". You leave it all out on the floor or you don't bother!

I can remember directing a rehearsal with some college students a few years back. I was totally focused on the job at hand as we only had a week to put the show together. At one point my mother (the rehearsal pianist) stopped me quietly and said, "Ummmm, Martha, maybe you should take a break. It's been 6 hours since you started and you haven't stopped. You need to eat." I was afraid to stop and sit down for fear I wouldn't be able to get back up.

I can also remember the numerous times where I had practiced for weeks on a program or audition only to get sick the two days before and have to cancel. If I had just taken the time to recover and rest while rehearsing during those weeks, I may not have gotten sick. Or maybe I would have anyway. It's hard to say. But recovery is 30% of the rehearsal process. Or is it 30% of the training process?

When I'm in a rehearsal, I can literally lose track of time. It's ceases to exist. The only thing that is real is the music I am singing, the sounds coming out of the group I am directing onstage, the emotions being portrayed by singer in front of me, or the fascination with the voice I am working with at that moment.

When I am in the process of preparing for a recital the music constantly is running through my head. While I'm driving to pick up the kids I am thinking about what I could do differently to express that particular lyric in a way that will reach my audience. I am thinking about what I could have differently in rehearsal to produce the sounds that I am looking for. What physical thing could I have done to make it sound better? I didn't feel very well during rehearsal. Did I not eat enough? Did I eat too much? Was I hydrated enough? Did I not warm up enough?

Hmmmmmm.... Nothing is done half assed, you need to take a break and eat, I was afraid to stop for fear of not getting going again, I need to rest and recover, I lose track of time, did I eat enough, have I drank enough, etc. etc.?? Doesn't this sound like an ultra runner's head? Yeah, it takes one to know one.

So as I sit here writing and waiting for Duke to get done running, I do it with love and patience because I know what it is like to be obsessed with something you love. I know what a rush it is to be in your element. And I know that when I ask to do my thing, he will always be there to support me. Now if I can just get him to crew for my recital this coming spring...

A New "Normal"

It's been a long time since I have posted on this blog and I decided that I needed to change the title to align more with our current lives. Interestingly, I started this blog when we were living in Switzerland. But, due to a habit that Duke picked up while we were living there, our lives have shifted somewhat dramatically.  At the time, though, I had no clue that his habit would become a mainstay in our lives. So much so, that I have become an "ultra runner widow".

Let me take a moment to give an explanation for why I am calling myself a "widow". There is a well known term in the surfing world that is used by the hundreds of women who wake up in the morning to an empty bed. NOT because the spouse is dead. NOT because their spouse is at work. NOT for any life threatening reason. Oh no, this would actually make sense and be an acceptable reason for waking up alone. No, these women know that their spouse is out in the ocean, sitting on a surf board, waiting for the next wave in hopes that it will push them towards the shore on a beautiful sleek wave that lasts for several minutes. The reality is that they most likely will be lucky enough to catch a half a dozen short, choppy waves in the 2-3 hours that they are out there. But it doesn't matter to them because, they are out there. So this feeling of being partially abandoned was eventually labeled as being a "surf widow". This is NOT meant to offend actual widows, obviously!

How do I know all of the above? Because at one time, I was a surf widow. Then we moved to Montana. And then Switzerland. And, of course, the surf was no longer accessible to Duke. So I no longer was abandoned in the mornings for hours on end! We actually spent time together in bed on Saturday mornings. He was around for breakfast and the kids were able to see him first thing when they woke up. It was so nice!

I should have enjoyed it more while I had it. I should have known that it wasn't going to last. I must digress a brief moment and explain that Duke has always been early riser. So I expect him to get up and go for a walk with the dog or a short run. It's not like I don't want him to have some time to himself and enjoy the outdoors. It's good for his physical health and even better for his mental health. So I definitely don't begrudge this time he takes for himself because it makes my life easier with him as well. I just didn't expect his exercising to take the form of something so intense and all consuming. What am I saying! It's Duke we are talking about! He doesn't do anything half assed. If 10 miles is good 20 has to better. If 20 is good well then 40 is much, much better. Thanks to a "friend" in Switzerland, this became the new fascination.

I could take the next two paragraphs trying to explain this psycho phenomenon but I think that the video below says it all!

Now that you have some knowledge of what ultra running is, you might start to understand why I have coined the phrase "ultra runner widow" for myself and any other person who lives with (and is abandoned by) an ultra runner. And yes, the video is pretty accurate.

One final note, please know that the majority of this post is all pretty much tongue in cheek as I am hopelessly proud of my husband and his accomplishments! And although he might not get home for breakfast....or lunch....and maybe even dinner, I know that he is there when it is most important! And it also means I can go do whatever I want, pretty much whenever I want. Nice trade off, huh?!

So Grateful to Give Thanks

As most of you that read my blog have noticed, I don't post very much.  Part of it is because I'm just lazy, lots of it is writers block but mostly I just don't like to share my thoughts when they aren't very pleasant.  As my grandmother always said, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all".  I guess if I could make a joke out of depression I would have a following like Ali Brosch does on her blog hyperboleandahalf.com.  But since I don't have her uncanny way of joking and writing cartoons, I choose to follow my grandmothers advice.  Luckily, I feel like I have something nice to say today, and so I thought I would share a few things.

Up until last weekend, I was going through some major unhappiness (for me).  Unfortunately, this seems to be a theme for me since moving to Zurich.  It isn't constant, but the roller coaster effect of one month I am happy and the next month I'm not, starts to wear on a person.  When the challenge of Thanksgiving in a foreign country started to rear it's head, I found I had very little energy to battle it.  Fortunately, I have a list of people and events in my life that are constantly there to pull me through these times.  So in no particular order, I am grateful that I can give thanks for the following:

Susan Stucki.  Susan is a new Swiss friend that I met here who has spent a good deal of time living as an expat in San Francisco.  When she heard that we weren't going to celebrate Thanksgiving, she said let's just do it!  She helped me plan the menu, she brought food with her and she helped me cook.  Susan was truly sent as a gift to me from the Creator to show me that as long as I keep my heart open, I will find family here.

Duke.  There isn't anything I could say that would do justice to the man who loves me for who I am and NEVER tries to change me. His support during this time has been truly saint-like.

My daughter has friends.  You have no idea how much relief this brings me.  I have never had my heart break as much as it has watching my little girl try and adapt here to a new language,school and culture.  She now has a friend that she says is just as good as her friends back in Montana.  Thank God!

My son's steadfastness in continuing to adapt here and his utter devotion to me.  My prayer is that I continue to learn how to accept his unconditional love for me.

My parents.  Their devotion to me, my husband, their grandchildren, their music and their students is humbling. 

Skype.  The avenue that allows me to see my parents everyday.  What a gift technology is.

My circle of friends here in Zurich.  They have no idea what their friendship and support has meant to me during the last nine months.  I'm not sure I could ever express that properly to them.

Linda, Danny and Ken and their love for me, the Path of the Pipe and their guidance.

The lessons I have learned about education here vs. the US.  This has helped me to understand the challenges that my children face at school and has enabled me to pave their way a bit more.

I am most grateful and thankful for my relationship with The Creator/God/Spirit, whatever you want to call it.  If it weren't for the lessons that I have been taught through this Path, I would never have survived here.  When I have felt the absolute worst, the inner knowing that I am loved and that everything has a place, time and reason has sustained me, strengthened me and best of all has helped me grow as a person.

I think the best lesson I have learned through all of this is that it doesn't matter where you move physically, you still carry all your baggage with you.  It just gets magnified in all of the upheaval.  When you strip away all of the things that you have built up to cover your baggage and you sort it out, you can then throw away the unnecessary pieces and take a good look at what you truly want.  It makes room for new experiences and gives you a feeling that you can do almost anything you set your mind to.

One last note, we always hear/say that it's the little things in life that are important or make a difference.  I couldn't have had a better event happen to prove this to me than when Ross tasted the pumpkin pie last night.  I had to make a homemade crust for the first time in  my life and on top of it, I had to try and do it in another country where the ingredients are always a bit different.  Ross hates pie crust but when he bit into this pie, he turned to me with a huge surprised smile on his face and said," Momma, it's the BEST pie I've ever tasted!".  Now that, my friends, is what brought tears to my eyes this Thanksgiving.

My love and blessings to all of you that read this and support me.  I am truly grateful that I can give thanks for each and every one of you.