Category Archives: The Past

The past does not always paint with a golden brush

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So (it is always a good sign when your blog post starts with “So”! Me thinks) the other day I received an email from one of my oldest and dearest friends. And by “old” I am not referring to her age but to the length of our friendship. I met Annette on the first day of my very first class at the Ludwig-Maximillians Universität in Munich, a class I showed up to a week late… By the time I made it to class everyone had already gotten to know each other the previous week when yours truly was missing because she had no idea when her “Introduction to English Literature” was actually going to take place. It sort of set the stage for the remainder of my years as a student. When I finally showed up a week late all seats were taken but the one next to Annette and we became friends instantly. I guess when you have to analyze Jane Austen’s “Emma” and her match making skills you have no choice but to bond and bonding we did. For the next 4 1/2 years our friendship grew through the good times and the not so good times.

We only lived a few miles apart, Annette in one of the student bungalows in the Olympic Village (which were torn down a couple of years ago), me just up the road in Fasanerie, and many evenings and weekends were spent together. In the summer we often packed up our picnic baskets with caprese salad and trifle and headed to the nearest Biergarten on our bicycles, meeting up with friends over wheat beer and soft pretzels. On days when we had no class and on weekends you could find us along the banks of the Feldmochinger See catching sunny rays and enjoying the summer heat in Bavaria. Then there was our annual white asparagus feast in May. We survived the long and cold winters with ski aerobics at the Olympic Village Gym, followed by hot tea and crispy bread with honey or Nutella, Kaesespaetzle at the “Scheidegger” and the annual holiday baking in my kitchen.

We only spent time apart during spring breaks, when Annette went off to South Africa where her aunt and uncle owned a farm and I worked, and summer break, which I spent in California every year.

Sounds lovely? Well it wasn’t!

I know that for a lot of kids out there college is the most fabulous time of their lives and they can hardly wait for it. The partying, the endless supply of alcohol, and finally escaping their parents’ prying eyes. For me it was anything but.

Since I had already lived away from home for two years before I moved to Munich – and when I say “away” I mean “far away”, 7000 miles to be exact – the novelty of escaping my childhood home had already worn off. And as German kids are allowed to officially have a drink at the tender age of 16 – although most have their first taste unofficially at an earlier age – my experience with alcohol poisoning had happened in high school and I had no desire to repeat the joys of losing two days of my life. The only time I got even remotely drunk was on my very last night in Munich when I celebrated my departure with margaritas and ended up falling asleep on the last subway ride of the night which resulted in instant sobriety when I realized I was one station short of the end, 50 miles out of Munich. At 2am! Without a penny of change!

When I was still living at home I often dreamed of the day when I could just do whatever I chose to do, spend nights away from home and never having to explain myself afterwards to my parents who were strong believers in curfews even after I had turned 18. The amount of nights I did not come home while I was in college: ZERO! For some reason nothing seemed as exciting as sleeping in my own bed every night and waking up to my room mate playing classical music CDs and the smell of her brewing coffee and baked goods on weekend mornings.

Instead of partying I hunkered down for the first times since 7th Grade and actually worked hard at getting through the Master’s Degree as fast as possible and move back to the place my heart belonged to. And studying hard I did, often taking on more than double the workload of the regular degree requirements for the semester while completing and handing in term papers before the term was actually coming to a close in the summer. But I did not mind as it allowed me to fly back to California the beginning of August, rather than the middle, meaning that I could spend three full months on the west coast. A time I waited for nine months out of every year. The summer months were my favorite time of year even back then, but for different reasons as they are now, and November SUCKED, even more so than it does now!!! Stepping off the airplane in Munich on a cold, damp November evening after having spent three glorious months in the Bay Area was about as depressing as it gets. The only positive (if you can even call it that) was the fact that I had usually scheduled my return flight a day before classes started up for the winter semester and was therefore right back in the swing of student life within 12 hours of touching down.

The most fun I had in Munich was my last year there and the fact that I knew my time was coming to an end helped me skip along through my thesis on victorian women (don’t be jealous now!), my final exams in English comprehension, American History and Political Science, and my summer that, for the first and last time, I spent in its entirety in Munich.

17 years have gone by since that last endless summer at the foot of the Bavarian Alps. Annette graduated six months after me and when I left she inherited all my IKEA dishes, some of which she still uses today. After her graduation she worked in Munich for a year before meeting the love of her life in South Africa and settling into her new home in Johannesburg where she has been raising two boys. We have not seen each other since she visited me in 1995 but we have remained in contact and are able to pick up where we left off. One of my future travel plans does include an extended trip to South Africa and I am sure it will be just like old times when I get to see her again. We will probably eat caprese salad, trifle, and crisp bread with honey or Nutella.

I have noticed that Annette often wants to write about our days in Munich and although she does not say it directly I can read between the lines that she misses her days as a student. I understand that her experience was different from mine in that she did not have to overcome constant heart ache but I also remember how stressed out she was about school and getting her degree, something I hardly ever worried about. I had never worked hard in high school (my mom always blamed hair graying hair on my lack of interest in school work during my teenage years) but I realized early on that I was making up for my disastrous high school years when I became a university student. Annette on the other hand always doubted herself which overshadowed the good times she had. It is curious that she only wants to remember how fun her life was and on several occasions she has mentioned that she would love to go back in time. I say: NO WAY!!!

On Twitter I follow “MunichPhoto” and get to look at a new photo of places in and around Munich every morning. I truly and utterly love it as I recognize most of the places in the photograph and can usually recall that last time I went by. But I realize that the enjoyment is due to the fact that I can reminisce from the place I call home, the place my heart belongs to. For the same reason I also thoroughly enjoyed visiting Munich a few years ago, dropping by the house I lived in and revisiting all the old familiar hang outs. I even went back to Annette’s old bungalow. All with the comfort of knowing that I would be going home! The place I love most!

Yes, we did have some good times during our years in Munich but I was glad when I could close this chapter of my life. I never looked back from that day my dad picked me up, the day I said “Good Bye” to the hardest four 1/2 years of my life!

Today’s Running Tip: Staying warm and injury free while traveling to alpine climates!

One of the ways to warm up in icy conditions is to run on the treadmill, run up the staircase, or jump rope for 10 minutes before hitting the road!

Silent Night(s)

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HappyHolidays

It has been quiet around here these last couple of weeks and it might be time to catch up a little.

David and I embarked on a flying visit up north to the Bay Area just before Christmas, where David had some business to attend to. Before Adrienne’s funeral in early October we had not been back up there for several years and while staying with good friends and visiting old stomping grounds we realized how much we actually miss it. There is just a certain vibe , an energy that you don’t find anywhere else. As luck would have it we had another opportunity to go back up there and we took it. While David had to take care of business we also had plenty of time to have fun with our friends,

Chris&Greta

explore new neighborhoods – who would have thought that downtown Campbell could be this nice AND have a Farmer’s Market on Sunday? – and run the lovely Los Gatos Creek Trail.

We also visited Adrienne’s grave which looked so different grassed over and without the funeral set up. I could not help but think that we were standing there a week from the day she was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma 13 years ago. That Christmas 1996 we took the kids to Lake Tahoe, where we had rented a condo with friends. What promised to be a fun ski vacation in a wintry mountain resort turned into the worst trip of my life. The powdery snowfall of the first two spectacular days turned into record rain and Adrienne seemed to display more and more symptoms of her illness as the days wore on. Maybe it was the fact that we now knew what ailed her, that we had to face the seriousness of her illness, that we could no longer escape the fact that our family had been touched by childhood cancer. She had not been well for quite some time but before she was diagnosed we could brush it off to childhood growth spurts, allergies, a bad cold. Now every ache, every untouched meal,the endless fatigue, just reminded us of the unforgiving reality we were facing. Even Adrienne, who was only 9 at the time had lost her innocence and one night asked me if she was going to die. I assured her that although we were all going to pass on one day chances were very high that she would beat her lymphoma and live a long and prosperous life. And it was not lie told by a concerned parent who does not want to tell the brutal truth to a child. Back then we truly believed she would beat this, after all, her young age and access to one of the best medical facilities and the leading expert in childhood lymphoma were all in her favor. We were so hopeful then and had no idea what lay ahead!

I thought about that fateful Tahoe “vacation”, the one we had to eventually cut short (thank goodness!!!) as the record rainfall turned into record flooding (I could not wait to get home!), and that it was really an omen of things to come, the 13 years that followed, the struggles, the hopefulness, the set backs, the suffering, and that our family was never going to be the same.

From the Bay Area we went to Santa Barbara for a couple of days and attended Susan’s funeral. A service as beautiful as it can be. A lot of my former colleagues were present and a few of them spoke. While they were remembering Susan’s spirit I felt myself nodding in agreement countless times. We all knew what the world had lost and how much we would miss our friend. She was truly one of a kind and I cherish every memory. It is not often you can find a person who really enjoys working side by side with his or her supervisor and I realize how lucky I was and I am glad I realized it while it was happening. I always treasured the days I could work in direct contact with Susan, whether it was a problem that needed to be solved, covering the registration desk at National Sessions, attending meetings, or just catching up on tasks and completed projects, I looked forward to seeing her every single day.

After almost a week on the road I was happy to be home again. I always enjoy road trips, especially road trips that can be combined with visiting good friends, but there is nothing more delicious than sleeping in your own bed again after so many days away from your duvet (although Greta’s bed is pretty heavenly, I must say!). And the comforts of home can not be forgotten as well. As much as I love my friends, I also love being home!

Christmas Eve David, a friend of mine, Barbara’s friend, and I went to our local Rescue Mission and helped out serving Holiday meals to the less fortunate. It was a stark reminder of how blessed we really are and that we have absolutely nothing to complain about. Even with all of our struggles this past year we have yet to miss a hot meal! There at the Mission we met the most gracious and grateful people you could meet, people who have nothing, people who live in tents and don’t know where their next meal comes from, families with children of all ages, children that had a sparkle in their eyes when they each got a present from the toy drive. We have so much! A roof over our heads, clean sheets to crawl under, freshly laundered clothes to wear, a full fridge, the ability to buy more food when we run out (as if!), really, what else do we really need? And in that spirit David and I changed our plans for Christmas Night, lit a fire, had egg bagels and Pecan Pie and just enjoyed being cozy at home.

Happy Holidays!

Today’s Running Tip: Running while traveling!

Since running is a fairly low maintenance exercise you don’t have to stop your routine while on the road. Just pack your running shoes, enough clothing for the days you are traveling (pack warm if you will be in cold climates!). It is a great way to explore the neighborhood and find new running routes. If you are staying with friends ask them about a near by trail that is frequented by walkers and runners. If you are staying in a hotel ask the concierge who usually has maps of local running routes that are save!

On being thankful

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dennys

22 years ago I celebrated my first Thanksgiving in this country. I spent it at Denny’s. Yes, the place that claims to be “Always Open”! And it was indeed!

I had just arrived “fresh off the boat” a month prior and really had not the slightest idea about this holiday. The concept of turkey, stuffing and the Macy’s parade was still as foreign to me as Pumpkin Pie. In fact I was so oblivious that I did not even know this was a holiday until I woke up that Thursday morning and realized my host parents were not leaving for work. Instead they were seated in front of the TV watching huge balloons pulled by humongous floats through the streets of New York City. I could not imagine anything more boring!!!

We lived in Chester Springs at the time, a small enclave about 30 miles north west of Philadelphia. Not much else was going on that day, which was OK as were packing to go out of town for the long weekend. Although I found it a bit odd that we had to watch the entire spectacle of the parade first before we could actually leave for our drive up north to Marlboro, Massachusetts – another exciting place! But by this time I had already learned that things worked a bit differently in my new home and I did not question intentions any longer. With my parents we would have been packed, the car loaded and the sandwiches and snacks prepared the night before in order to be on the road at the crack of dawn. Not here. We watched the endless parade, then started packing, and finally got on the road late afternoon. We took the scenic route through New York City, still buzzing from all the parading and since it was dinner time before we even hit the Massachusetts state line I got to enjoy my first Thanksgiving dinner at Denny’s. And no, I did not order their “Thanksgiving Special”.

When we finally arrived at my host parents friends’ house in Marlboro it was way past late o’clock but it was then that I met Jacqui and Barry. Little did I know at the time that they would become friends for life! In fact as I was emailing Jacqui this week we were reminiscing about Thanksgivings past, many of which we have spent in each others company after we had all moved to California. If we had had a chance to look into the future back then on that cold Thanksgiving weekend in New England what would we have done with that insight? Let’s just say that it is probably a good thing that we couldn’t get a glimpse of what lay ahead, even though it worked out very well for all of us. We are definitely different people from the ones that met on that snowy driveway 22 years ago, trials and tribulations for all of us, highs and lows, that thing called “life”, allowed us to evolve. Jacqui and Barry live in Italy now, Tuscany to be exact (I KNOW!), and we do not get to spend as much time with them as we used to and want to but our friendship has endured and remains strong to this day. A friendship both David and I are grateful for. They are family!!!

So this week it is only fitting that I list the things I am thankful for this year and of years past:

Jacqui and Barry!!!
sunny skies
a roof over our heads
Nelson
my health
David’s health
clean sheets to sleep in every night
a solid marriage
the fact that the right person won the last Presidential election
having a meal every night
bananas
Facebook connections
memories of good times
my friend’s great opportunity in Japan (she is SO lucky to get to eat Japanese food every.single.day!!!)
my other friend’s clean bill of health
being able to start each day with a run
my iPhone (shallow? I don’t care!)
the morning ritual of drinking herbal tea
a fridge filled with food
my Welsh relatives
desert summers
being able to call myself a citizen of this great country

turkeyday

Today’s Running Tip: Run a local Turkey Trot!

If there is a Turkey Trot scheduled in your neck of the woods be sure to sign up and run it. Turkey Trots are usually 5-K races, easy to prepare for and great fun to get out in your community and meet up with other local runners. Not to mention the added benefit of burning some calories before sitting down for the Thanksgiving Feast!

Remembering

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September 11, 2001 started out as any other work day for me. I got up around 7am, put on my running clothes, tied my running shoes, put Nelson on a leash and headed out the door for our daily six mile run. As I was running down Carrillo Boulevard towards Shoreline Park on this perfect Santa Barbara day I noticed that the roads seemed to be less busy than normal and I did not run into the usual early morning dog owner crowd in the park, but I did not pay much attention as I turned around at the bottom of Shoreline and made my way back home. I took a shower, got dressed, fed the dog, brushed his teeth (don’t ask!), got my backpack and got into the car to go to work.

Just a typical morning in our house, except for one minor detail: Hubby had flown to a conference in Atlanta (of all places!!!) the day before and therefore the TV, which is usually switched on by the time Nelson and I get back home, remained idle. I never turned in on that morning and was literally oblivious when I got into the car and the radio station did not play the usual music. Instead a male voice that sounded like Peter Jennings was talking. Without really listening to what he was saying I switched to a different station only to hear the same voice. By the time I tried my luck with the third station and was again faced with who was now clearly Peter Jennings I had reached the first traffic light and slowly started to listen… “and at approximately 10:30am local time the second tower of the World Trade Center collapsed!” WHAT??? Is this some kind of sick joke? I was immediately ripped out of the early morning, pre work trance and thrown into the reality of one of the most tragic days in this nation’s history. By the time I arrived at work ten minutes later I had been able to somehow put two and two together and ran upstairs to my office where I found my co-worker and dear friend in tears watching a live stream of downtown Manhattan on her computer screen. Even before I asked her “did we have an attack?” I already knew the answer and as we learned more details we realized then and there that this country would never be the same. Since no one knew how many planes were involved and as we heard the news reports that all air traffic would be shut down my thoughts went to Atlanta… A place you do not want to be stuck in! But that is exactly the situation Hubby found himself in. With nowhere to go. The conference was canceled and all transportation out of Atlanta was immediately booked solid, including rental cars. But quite honestly, I did not care at that moment. All I cared about was that he was save. It is amazing how selfish we become when it concerns a loved one.

Not a lot of constructive work got done that day and as more and more of our fellow co workers arrived we made sure immediately that all their loved ones were OK as well, before turning out attention back at the unfolding news.

Late afternoon we all gathered at the restaurant next door to watch President Bush address the nation and a sense of community spread amongst those gathered around the table. We all realized we were in this together and that we could only overcome this tragedy by putting differences aside and working in unison. And amazingly this feeling lasted.

I think back to those days and weeks following the events of 9/11 and how our country rallied, standing unified behind our President. It did not matter if you voted for him or not. He was our leader and needed all the support he could get.

What happened? I look at our country today, eight years later, and I cannot help but feel dismayed by how soon we forget and how short our attention spans are. Eight years after that gruesome day our country is more divided than it was even before 9/11 and yet should we not all rally behind our current President? A man that was democratically voted into office by a substantial majority, a man that is trying his best to get this country back on track from an economic collapse, a financial disaster that I would not hesitate to compare to 9/11. Instead I see fear mongering, lies, racial innuendoes, and blatant displays of hate. In part egged on by a nut who is making a personal profit out of the tragedy of September 11 with his “912 Project”. A man I deem certifiable, who claims he wants to bring us back to those days after the biggest terrorist attack on our nation’s soil. It is unfortunate that this guy is so terribly misled that he actually wants a revolution to take down President Obama rather than remembering what 9/12 and the following days were really about: standing united behind our President to get out of the mess we were in!

Today’s Running Tip: There will be no tip today!

Sunshine

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Sunshine -

21 years ago today you were born and I remember this day as if it was yesterday. You came into this world just shortly after 9am and when I saw you for the first time that same afternoon you were the tiniest person I had ever met. I held you for hours while your mother made sure that your big sister did not feel left out, setting a trend that has continued throughout the years.

Having dealt with your sister from the time she was two months old I only expected that you would follow in her footsteps of screaming down the house, not to mention the neighborhood. But to everyone’s surprise you showed us that babies can be happy and content. From the moment you came home you were nothing but smiles and full of joy, only crying when you were hungry. A new, but very much welcomed concept for all involved.

From a very early age on you were just content with being by yourself and once you became old enough you happily played with your toys for hours on end.

As a toddler you had the most beautiful blonde curls (that your father refused to cut off for the longest time) and since your general happiness showed all over your face people were drawn to you wherever we went, other kids wanted to be friends with you. There was just something about you that made loving you so easy. You were easily pleased and the smallest gifts made you happy, if only you could be home. Home was your favorite place and every time we took a trip you would ask us at the second street light when we would go back to the house or you would inform us that we were “really far away from home now!” To this day change remains one of your biggest challenges.

The biggest change in your young life came when your parents separated. You were only five at the time and the blow was so significant it almost broke you. The world as you knew it had shattered and you had a very hard time dealing with the consequences of your dad no longer living in the same house as you. We tried our best to ease the pain but we could not overlook the impact it had on your young soul. Those first couple of years after you had to deal with two homes and going back and forth were definitely not easy and it certainly did not help that you started school at the same time.

And school turned out to be an issue from day one, a place where you had to follow in your sister’s footsteps, a straight A student only a grade ahead of you. The teachers all remembered her when you entered their classroom. In 1st Grade it was even said with a factitious chuckle in one of the parent teacher conferences “And you thought you had another Boardman on your hands!”… But it wasn’t a simple hand off. You were never a teacher’s pet and paid the price. In a school that prided itself as being a “blue ribbon” school. I couldn’t stand it! I remember walking into your 2nd Grade classroom to pick you up one day only to observe your teacher yelling at you and telling you that you would never amount to anything. YOU WERE IN 2ND GRADE!!! It broke my heart and I was only happy to find out when in 3rd Grade you finally had a different teacher than the one your sister had and for the first time you started to thrive.

But you never did like school and who can blame you for this after the experience you had in 1st and 2nd Grade. It is unfortunate and appalling that this set you up for a constant struggle with school and caused endless and countless hours of aggravation over the years. It also made me lose all respect for the school system in this country.

But when I look back on your childhood I mostly remember all the good times we had and there were plenty of those. One of my fondest memories was the year that your sister decided we were not worthy her visitation and you came to stay with us by yourself. We spent a lot of one-on-one time together especially during your summer break. You only went to camp for a few hours in the morning and every afternoon I took you to the YMCA for swim camp and watched you take the pool like a duck to water. We always cooked your favorite meals each night and talked about the great day we had. This was also the first summer you walked home from camp by yourself, although I did meet you half way and you made a friend across the street which opened up your world of playing outside in their vast backyard and exploring the neighborhood, doing what boys do.

When your dad got a job offer in Santa Barbara we wanted you to move with us and even though you were torn for a while in the end such a drastic change was just too much for you to handle and you decided to stay with your mother, sister and stepdad. Looking back I often wonder if we should have pushed harder, it might have changed your whole future but hindsight is always 20-20 and we did not want to tear you away from your familiar surroundings.

We saw you as often as we could while we lived in Santa Barbara but by that time your sister’s illness had fully taken hold and consumed most of your family life. When you finally did move to Santa Barbara a few years later the lack of attention that had been part of that life was more than apparent. Your dad and I made it our mission to make up for lost time and although it seemed to have an effect at first it became clear very quickly that it was just not enough and that you would always seek the attention that you could never get.  I am not lying, that year was hard. Hard on you and hard on us. It was almost as if you could not handle being the center of attention and having us try to help you move on from the past few years was more than you could handle. Instead you kept going back to it and trying to reverse the path. I often found myself at work during that year not wanting to go home. I recognized myself less and less and was turning into a person I did not like.

In the end it became so painful you decided (with the help of a more than willing instigator) your only way out was to just leave our house literally overnight and move back in with your mother without telling us. You had never been good at covering things up and the warning signs had been there for a while. Your move did not come as a surprise but that did not make it less painful. We had invested so much in that year you lived with us only to be pushed aside by pure selfishness. A selfishness you are paying the price for to this day.

I told you back then: only those you love can hurt you! But in the end I got over the mess you had left behind and moved on only looking forward. For you this decision, which looked so brilliant at the time, marked a turning point and your remaining high school years ended up in a downward spiral of getting in trouble at school and at home. As always you found out that chasing the past was an impossible fantasy, the past could not be recovered nor would there be any change for your future. Life was just what it had been all along before you moved in with us.

And then you came back. And although we welcomed you with open arms I had my reservations. I tend to learn from mistakes and this just looked like the past could repeat itself very easily. But I wanted to give you a chance, I wanted to see you have that chance. It was not to be. What started out again as a promising set up turned into absolute emotional turmoil and home wrecking chaos which in the end, after 13 months of utter frustration, forced us to do something I never though I was capable of doing: kicking you out. By that time you had not been home overnight for six weeks, had ignored your father’s calls, had decided not to take the help your dad had offered of setting you up with your own apartment and after trying just about everything to have you respond to us we were literally at the end of our rope.  I can say without hesitation that the day we kicked you out was one of the hardest, if not the hardest, days of my life. I know we had reached a point of no return, but it was by no means easy to follow through with what we had decided was the only thing we could do. We were about to move to the desert full time and this day would have come sooner or later anyway. I had envisioned it differently but you left us no choice. It broke my heart!

It has been over two years since that fateful July 4th and looking back we did make the right decision. You still live in Santa Barbara and made it through the rough part of moving out on your own and making it.

Over the years I often looked back to your childhood and how much I adored you, how much I loved spending time with you and one of the hardest things has been watching you struggle in your later years. At times that little boy was still visible, allowing me a glimpse of what could have been. I realize you did not get a fair shake in life, not even close but you had always been your dad’s and my first priority, something that was unfortunately not enough in the end. We did love and care for you to the best of our ability but did not live up to your expectations of what life should be like, something that is impossible to live up to. I wish it could have been different, I wish you could have found what you so desperately sought, I wish all the grown ups in your life could have seen you the way I saw you, as someone who literally brought sunshine into a room!

I love you and I only hope that the future will treat you better than the past!

Today’s Running Tip: Dealing with Anxiety

Feeling anxious before a race? Try to only focus on yourself not the other runners. It is all about your run not the run of all the other racers. The saying “you run every race by yourself” rings true!