Race-A-Peril

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After we got back from the triathlon, we were planning on sailing a full moon race. I was rather excited to check two races in one day off of my bucket list.

But the strong winds from the morning of the triathlon increased throughout the day making sailing conditions very treacherous. We thought the race would be cancelled but never found out for sure since we spent the evening in the ER instead.

But that will be a story for another day..

I typically compete in triathlons or running. My husband races our sailboat. Sometimes our race paths intersect and I can be found on the water and he on land.

Last night I was part of my husband’s sail race crew along with our friend Jerry. It was a lot cooler and windier than we thought it would be. We were sailing in rough conditions with 3 to 4 foot waves.

For a time, we were slightly ahead of a boat that always wins. They were alongside of us and fell back after we turned.

We were headed on a straight course to the first buoy in the race when disaster struck.

I knew something was wrong when, just like that, we were hurled off course.

A pin snapped. The rudder broke. We spun in violent circles while being struck by waves that rocked our boat and crashed upon the bow. The boom swung and the wind whipped our sails. A line from the main sail broke free and was swirling around overhead like a lasso.

Paul started the outboard motor. The rudder smacked back and forth into the motor’s propeller. Jerry and I worked on getting the jib sheet in as we spun in circles. Then Paul struggled to get the boat in irons to take down the main sail. Then the guys lifted the heavy rudder out of water while trying to maneuver the boat.

After taking the main sail down, the situation became less perilous. But we weren’t out of the woods(?) yet. Paul had to steer the boat back in to the harbor without a rudder. He had to rely on the small outboard motor. His arm was sore from the waves and strong winds that he had to arm wrestle his motor against.

To get back we had to go against the flow. The boats that were racing behind us were coming towards us to get to the racing buoy.

Finally we were able to limp back to shore. Paul had to steer the boat into our slip and it wasn’t going to be easy. There were rugged rocks and a cement wall to navigate around in the strong wind. He hollered to shore for help…but he was able to get us into our slip like a pro.

There were other boats with problems last night.

Another boat had issues and started to come into the slip sideways almost colliding with nearby boats.

The wind ripped another sailboat’s spinnaker in half.

It was the most exciting race ever!

I was happy that the rudder didn’t give out when we were alongside the other boat…we might’ve crashed. Also, the ER visit prevented us from racing this last weekend if the strong winds wouldn’t have. If the rudder broke at dusk 5 miles from shore in strong winds and waves who knows what could’ve happened!

I had a great time. There was no lasting damage. The problem is relatively inexpensive to fix. No one panicked, got hurt, or died last night.

After it was all over, we had a drink and reminisced about our previous perilous sail when we were beginner sailors…the accidental overnight sail…(maybe I will share the story with you all again). Jerry said it was one of the top ten memorable stories of his life. It was one of mine too.

I will not forget last night either.

I love adventure, but I am not a big risk taker.

I have to say that there is something totally exhilarating about challenges that push my mind, body, and stamina to its limits to get through…A sense of danger…Flirtation with failure.

Racing…competing…how I love the thrill of it!

I’ve learned to expect the unexpected.

No race is ever the same…even if it is the same race.

We didn’t finish the race, but we survived the night.

I will count that as a win.

 

Places where the past and present collide

The last few days I haven’t been feeling much like writing. I toy with the temptation of disappearing and being totally anonymous again. Strange thoughts trickle through my mind. I worry that my anonymity has been compromised when the phone rings. I get the pseudonyms crossed in my mind. Will I call someone by the wrong name in real life? Will I use their real name here? The boundaries blur…the wires cross…in my mind..

Time zigzags between the past and present…I enjoyed having Angel home over Easter break, but it blurred the adulthood with childhood in my mind. Is she still my child after childhood fades?

We had a bowling party for Matt’s birthday and a family get together for Easter. Right before the party on Saturday morning, I started feeling depressed and a tad bit angry. I didn’t want to share anything with anybody.

I always feel edgy right before family occasions. Matt’s party went great. We had a fun time. It’s just that sometimes in my head the past blends in with the present and I start feeling or thinking the way I felt or thought back then when Matt was violent.

A group of young laughing girls walked by Matt. I remembered the old Matt…the Matt that would attack them…the Matt that would pull their hair and kick them.

Fear trickled through me.

But the new Matt paid no attention as the girls walked by.

I can’t separate the past from the present. The old triggers still flip a switch in my mind that I can’t seem to turn off.

Yesterday, I pulled out another old diary from 1990. This was something I willingly decided to do in my writing process to confront my demons.

But sometimes I fear that this may trigger memories that are darkly hidden. I am afraid sometimes that I won’t be able to handle what I find…what I remember…and the feelings those memories trigger.

It seems insurmountable to me right now. Like running a marathon right up a mountain.

But once I make it to the top of the mountain, I will see things that I have never been able to see before…new insight, new understanding, a deeper knowledge…peace.

Sometimes I need to take a step back to go forward…too see where I’ve been…to notice how far I’ve already climbed.

I want to be able to put the past behind me so it doesn’t mingle with the present anymore. I think it is going to be a long and difficult hike up the mountain, but well worth the view at the top.

Maybe at the end of my climb, I can finally put my demons to rest.

Getting personal

A couple of weeks ago, I asked my husband if what I post bothers him because the content is so personal. Frankly, sometimes it bothers me.

I really enjoy reading personal blogs, but sometimes I am disappointed by the posts in that category. There are always a few people that post about switching coffee brands or ask which shade of lipstick looks better or post about movies which isn’t my idea of personal at all.

My idea of personal is talking about watching my mother-in-law die from cancer. It is talking about growing up with a violently autistic brother. It is about the issues I am having with my teenagers. Or feelings of depression, anxiety, and anger.

Paul, does it bother you when I talked about your mother dying??

Sometimes I don’t want him to read it, although the personal things I write about seem to bother me more than him.

He said that expressing my feelings is good. He said that if I didn’t blog he wouldn’t really know me as well.

I haven’t determined whether his response is good or bad.

The person that I am closest to in the world doesn’t think that he would know me as well if I didn’t blog??

All I know is that writing makes me feel better.

The last thing I want is for people to feel sorry for me. I want other people to relate and maybe feel like they aren’t alone on this journey.

I want to be real when I talk about life. I want to talk about the good along with the bad.

I don’t want to hear about perfection. I want to hear personal stories. I want deep conversation. I want honest reflection.

Tell me about the time when things went wrong.

Getting personal is what I want in a blog and that is what I’m trying to give.

Our cancer journey (what to expect)

I found myself crying, anxiously waiting by the phone, and having far more questions than answers after getting the initial phone call that a loved one may have cancer. I received that call from my own mother, but she had surgery and survived. We received the call from my mother-in-law twice, the first round she won the fight against breast cancer. The second battle she courageously fought and lost.

I found myself trying to find answers regarding cancer online. I found a few totally factual sites. This is what happens in stage I, etc.. I learned everything I needed to know, but really didn’t know what to expect.

My mother-in-law Martha passed away last week from lung cancer.

For the first year and a half before diagnosis, Martha was ill. She had this cough that wouldn’t go away. At first the doctor thought it was a side effect from her medication. Then she was put on round after round of antibiotics for sinus infections or bronchitis. Eventually, she coughed more, seemed short of breath, and was wheezing. We told her to see her doctor who gave her another round of antibiotics. The day after the doctor visit her doctor called her up and said he couldn’t sleep all night because something seemed off. He wanted her to go in for more testing.

The tests revealed two masses, one in her stomach and one in her lungs. They did a biopsy of the mass in her stomach as it was a lot easier than doing a lung biopsy. They found an easily treatable form of cancer and started treatment assuming that the lung mass was also the same.

There was some relief that she was going to be okay.

But after treating the stomach mass which shrunk, they realized that the lung mass grew. After doing more testing and a lung biopsy, they discovered that she had stage 4 lung cancer. She had two different types of cancer at the same time.

We went from easily treatable right to no cure within a couple of months.

This is the time we wanted to make memories with her while she was up to traveling and doing things. We talked about flying to Vegas or a road trip to Chicago to see relatives. Martha didn’t want to do it though.

This is also the time to encourage your loved one to plan out their will or grant the power of attorney to someone trusted. But at that stage, it is hard to look death in the eye.

Then the Chemo started. Martha had to go in every 3 weeks. The first week after Chemo, she was the sickest. She couldn’t eat and threw up a lot. She was too sick to go anywhere. She needed someone to drive her to appointments and take care of her.

She also had to quit her job and had more medical bills which put upon them a huge unexpected financial burden.

After the first couple rounds of Chemo, they did more testing and found that the cancer moved to her brain which they treated with radiation. Martha had beautiful dark brown curly hair that was down to her waist. Her hair started falling out in clumps.

We started doing last things with her. We celebrated her last birthday, her last Mother’s Day..

Every time that we visited she got weaker and weaker. She lost more weight. Sometimes she was afraid that being around us would make her sicker. Sometimes she didn’t want us to leave.

Then there were days when she would eat and you could almost trick your mind into believing she was getting better.

What I remember the most now was the end days. The cancer starved her body. She lost about 100 lbs. It is hard to see someone down to skin and bones. After she could no longer have any more treatments, her hair grew back in wiry mismatched patches.

She collapsed on her way to the doctor appointment. The rescue squad took her to the hospital ICU. We had to wear gloves and gowns to visit. All of her dignity was stripped away.

She started getting blood transfusions. Afterwards, she almost seemed like herself. She looked better.

Then she moved from the hospital to a nursing home.

She could no longer walk. Sometimes when we would take her out of her room in her wheelchair, she would throw up.

At times she seemed agitated or anxious. Other times she was confused and would call us by the wrong names. At the end, she was not able to stay awake for our whole visit.

The visits were difficult. They typically ended with feelings of anger, sadness, or guilt.

She started gasping more for breath despite the oxygen. She stopped drinking, but had an IV in to hydrate her. The CNA’s had to come into the room every 2 hours to re position her because she could no longer move. She started sleeping more and more of our visits. She slept more than she was alert.

The last few days, her words were slurred and they didn’t make a lot of sense. She seemed restless and agitated. Her body started to get bruised and swollen.

The last visit, she didn’t wake up at all. She didn’t open her eyes. She tried to turn her head and open her mouth when we spoke to her, but didn’t seem able to.

The next day, she was gone.

We thought that there would be relief when her suffering came to an end. But it was really hard to get the last couple weeks out of our minds. My husband said he felt like he had post traumatic stress from watching his mother suffer. We saw her age 30 years in 3 weeks. She dropped a lot of weight in the last couple weeks too.

There was no hope that she was going to get better and that was hard.

It seems with each day that passes, we are able to let go a little more of the bad days and hold on to the good times.

 

Outrunning, the first steps

I never intended to be a runner. I never considered myself to be an athlete. This journey began unintended as journeys often times do.

My friend Cori started running first. Then my husband Paul. They tried to talk me into running. I thought to myself that I would start (perhaps) when hell froze over. But I told them I would run once Cori convinced her husband to run (which at the time seemed VERY unlikely).

Sure enough, Cori’s husband started running. Since those first steps, Cori and her husband finished countless marathons and both finished the full Iron.

Being good to my word, I started running too. It was tough at first. I remember my first mile. I thought I was going to die. I didn’t have the proper equipment. I didn’t think I really needed to do anything but run. I ran in heavy cheap athletic shoes and didn’t even have an athletic bra.

Several years after taking my first steps into running, I signed up for my first race. It was a 10k. I was afraid, I never ran that far before. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

I remember the first time I ran 10 miles. I thought I was going to die. I felt light headed and sick. My whole body ached. My legs were on fire. I was out of breath.

Then I signed up for my first marathon at the age of 40. I was terrified. I tried to get any advice that I could. One book I read was actually someone’s blog that she turned into a book.

A marathon? A blog? Why couldn’t I do that too??

So I consulted with my cousin and my pastor (probably a good thing to do?) who are both runners and have a blog.

Then I started this blog. At first it was going to be about running, or more specifically, training for a marathon. Then it morphed into so much more…writing about my experience growing up with a severely autistic sibling, parenting teenagers, travel, working with my husband at our own business, adventures in sailing…and it will probably take me down other winding roads that I have no idea about yet..

This is where it all began…How I started outrunning my demons, one step at a time…And it was something that I (as a big time planner) never planned. If someone told me I would be doing this ten years ago, I would’ve laughed at them. You’re crazy! Maybe when hell freezes over..

It almost makes me wonder where my journey will take me in another 10 years.

 

The interview

I was nervous.

I didn’t know what questions would be asked.

I looked at 100’s of interview questions trying to be prepared.

I looked in my closet wondering what I could possibly wear.

The schools were closed and the roads were slick.

I didn’t know if I would be able to get there.

Who cancels first? I really didn’t know.

My child was sick.

I called the doctor.

Was her mouth swollen from the strep or an allergic reaction to the Amoxicillan?

I was put on hold.

The minutes tick away…

Would I make it there on time?

Could I even go??

Just strep.

Eight inches of snow fell overnight. It was starting to rain.

Would I go in the ditch on the way?

Would the sidewalks be shoveled or could someone in dress shoes (who was training for a half iron) possibly twist an ankle and fall down?

Break a leg!

I was frantic, but made it to the interview with a few minutes to spare.

This was my first time as an interviewer..

I think I found the candidate I like.

It is hard to turn the other applicants down.

Owning a business is so much more than just doing what you are good at.

A flame’s last few flickers 

Yesterday I spent the evening in the ICU.

My mother-in-law Martha collapsed on her way to her doctor appointment. An elderly friend of Martha was taking her to her appointment, pulled over when Martha said she was going to be sick, and couldn’t get her back in the car.

The rescue squad transported her to the nearest hospital where they had no room in their ICU. Then they transported her to a hospital a couple of hours away. This was good news for us because Martha was 20 minutes away versus 2 hours away. 

We drove in nervous silence to the hospital. It was a long, windy, and bitterly cold day. It seemed like I had to park miles away from the door. The sharp winds whipped my face and stung. I ran to get in as fast as I could, but I really didn’t want to go. I was afraid of what I would find. I was afraid of how I might respond.

We searched for a long time down empty corridors for Martha’s room. We didn’t know where to go or what was happening. We weren’t sure what to expect. We had many questions and no answers.

We finally found the ICU. Only 2 visitors were allowed at a time. Paul and Angel went in first. While we were waiting, Martha’s husband Darryl arrived. Angel came out crying. My other 2 children went in. Angel sat on my lap and I held her in my arms while she cried. 

Darryl and I were the last ones to enter. Paul helped me tie on my gown and I put latex gloves on as was ICU protocol. Then I saw Martha. She was so weak, sick, and fragile looking. She asked me if I was okay since I looked so tired. Her concern for me was strangely touching as she was the one in the hospital bed hooked up to machines. She was getting a blood transfusion and had a couple more bags being emptied into her body. She had to sign a consent form but couldn’t quite remember how to spell her name. 

She told me that if she didn’t make it home, I should go through her items with the girls and take what I wanted even though she said she doesn’t have much. I told her I would.

It was all very beautiful and ugly at the same time. All of our previous issues faded away into the past. Yet I felt like I was in the way of the nurse. I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing I could do. Nothing but be there for her as her light starts to fade during her flame’s last few flickers.  

Soon our brief time together came to an end. I tore off my gown and threw it in the garbage along with my gloves. I washed my hands in the the sink. Martha told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her back. 

After a long glance, I walked away and didn’t look back.     

I could’ve been a millionaire…

I have been sworn to secrecy about this for over a couple of months now. But it really doesn’t matter anymore. I decided to do the 30 day writing challenge partially to avoid talking about it. I am really good at avoiding things. I should’ve listed it as one of my greatest strengths a couple of posts ago. Or maybe it is a weakness?? Who knows?

Nevertheless, a secret is a secret no matter how hard it is to keep.

It all started back in August when my husband Paul was approached by a multi-million dollar company that wanted to acquire us. We really didn’t think much of the idea at first. We weren’t interested in selling. But they wined and dined us. After a couple of meetings, this company offered to fly Paul across the country (all expenses paid) to tour the corporate office and meet with all of the bigwigs. The meeting went well, REALLY well.

After Paul returned from the meeting, this company requested all of our financial reports. Paul keeps meticulous financial records and they corresponded with each other over the weekend. Over the weekend! Although we weren’t looking for a relationship, they relentlessly pursued us. They even spoke of us moving in together.

We thought things were serious, like we would be getting a big honking diamond ring.

Then we started to dream… Suddenly our small 3 bedroom house wasn’t good enough any more. Our college age daughter already expressed disinterest in coming home for the summer. She didn’t want to have to share a room with her younger sister. I noticed the worn flooring. I grew tired of the neighbor yelling obscenities at his dog. I wanted something bigger. I wanted a 4 bedroom house out in the country. Then I got tempted. I started looking at houses online. We even went and looked at one.

Then I found “the house”. It had everything I wanted and more…It had 4 bedrooms on 6 acres of land. It even had an in ground indoor hot tub and swimming pool. I imagined myself throwing lavish parties there.. But it would be practical too.. I could train for triathlons in my pool without having to spend money on a gym membership. It was almost 7,000 square feet of pure bliss. I know, it seems excessive…But who cares when I could buy it in cash??

Then I started to dream bigger. I had it all planned out. We would go through with the acquisition. I would work many hours over the next 6 months training my replacement. Then I would have the summer off to spend with my kids and train for my races. In the fall, I would start working on my Master’s degree in creative writing. Then I would start writing my book about growing up with an autistic sibling..

Paul started sharing our good news with close family and friends at the time the deal seemed certain to go through. I told my mom my plan of writing the book and she was excited to work on it with me. It seemed so perfect. I wouldn’t have to work or worry about money. I could be a writer. Let’s face it, I am not going to write the next Harry Potter series..I’d probably only sell a few copies…I would do it because I enjoyed it, not for money.

I admit, perhaps I was a bit greedy planning my new life as a millionaire. It seemed like all of the hard work of starting a business was finally paying off. All the years of pouring ever extra penny into our business. I thought especially of the early years when we barely had enough to pay our monthly bills and we had three little mouths to feed. I thought of the long hard hours when we couldn’t get away. I remember dragging Paul to the office after major surgery when he wasn’t supposed to work. I thought of Paul working hard to earn an MBA while running a start up business, raising a family, and still making time to volunteer in the community. Finally, we could enjoy the fruits of our labor. Or so we thought..

Not only were we planning on paying off all of our debt and investing our money, we were planning on helping others. We were thinking of helping out the woman at church whose husband lost his job. We just found out that Martha’s (Paul’s mom) cancer has spread and that the chemo is no longer working. She needs a new medication that she can’t afford. We could help her pay for some medical expenses. Hell, I was even thinking of supporting some of your blogs..

Then the day came and went when we were expecting the initial offer. They kept putting the meeting off. Our patience started to run thin. I became edgy, worried, and depressed. The uncertainty was killing us. What was going to happen? Were they going to offer us what we were worth? Would it be months of bargaining? Would someone else buy the house that my heart was set on??

Then yesterday we heard the bad news that they were no longer interested in acquiring us despite having every reason to believe otherwise. Instead, they wanted to see if we might be interested in consulting with them in how to start their own division. Consult our new competition with deep pockets! Hell no!!

The CEO wanted to go forward with the deal, but the owner said “no”. The CEO said the owner might change his mind and come back to us in a couple of months if things don’t work out. I really don’t want to be with you anymore, but maybe we can still be friends with benefits (without health insurance)… Yippee!!

I was expecting a nice big fancy engagement ring, but instead got a one night stand. Talk about leaving a bad taste in my mouth!!

This all happened yesterday. I felt so angry that I couldn’t even talk. I wanted to be alone because I thought I might scream at the first poor hapless person who stumbled upon my path. I am still pissed. I am disappointed. I am depressed. I want to break something.

How can I explain how it feels? How can I expect sympathy when others around me are struggling?? Losing their jobs…barely able to make ends meet…getting divorced…Woe is me, I am not a millionaire..condolences please..

So we will continue to build our business…slowly placing one small block upon another…until one day hopefully this all pays off.

We will continue to live in debt…mortgage…two car payments…high health insurance premiums…another kid in braces…college tuition, for my daughter instead of me…business loans..

I will continue with my 30 day writing challenge…

Although a few tears still drop for my dreams that died..

At least we still have each other…

Maybe this is for the best… My husband won’t be gone all of the time playing the corporate game…We can come and go as we please now that our business is not in its infancy anymore. I can take a long lunch to train for a marathon without anyone to answer to. I can tell you all of my secrets while I am at work if I want to. I can even leave early to attend my kids endless events…or to go to all of the wonderful orthodontist appointments..

I have to think this is for the best, otherwise I would be devastated.

23. My top 5 hobbies

Day 23: List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.

1. Writing 

I love writing because I am secretive, quiet, and pensive person. These thoughts demand release. I don’t like talking on the phone, small talk, or long periods of silence that I feel like I have to fill with meaningless conversation. I have to think about everything before I say it, then think about it some more. I have a need to tell people what is on my mind, but when I try to talk the words just don’t come out right away. Then I miss the opportunity. Or people talk over me.. So I share my thoughts with you. Most of these thoughts I don’t even share with my closest friends. They don’t even know about my blog. When I was a kid, I wrote fiction books, poetry, and in my diaries. Then I put it all away for 20 years! I love to write about my childhood, my life in general, and stories of eccentric people who inspire me. I am a peace loving person, so I will never speak much about politics, religion, or controversial issues. I won’t write about beauty products, movies, or contemporary culture because I have no interest in writing about that. I have been blessed to have lived an eventful life. It has given me more than enough to write about. I also love to read the interesting stories of people who do unique things or overcome struggles.

2. Running

I never thought I would love running. I never get sick of the same route because every run is different. What I love about running is pushing my mind when my body has different ideas. It has given me endurance, preseverance, strength, and it makes me feel tough especially on the days that a Netflix marathon seems more attractive. I don’t like sprinting and prefer to run great lengths. I love competition and racing, especially 10k’s and half marathons. Although I said I wouldn’t, I will probably run another marathon since I haven’t achieved my goal time yet. I also like badminton, swimming, cross country skiing, hiking, dancing, and biking. These other likes prompted me to do my first triathlon. I want to be very active even into old age and am setting the pace for that now. Running has been my first love and I don’t see myself falling out of love with the sport any time soon.

3. Photography

I love capturing the beauty that surrounds me. I love taking pictures of landscapes and people. I like candid shots and don’t care for posing. I have always wanted to take my kids senior pictures and decorate my house with beautiful canvases of my creation. I love my vacation pictures of The Grand Canyon, New York City, and Pigeon Island in St. Lucia, etc… Or the simple beauty of wildlife on the lake, sunsets on the bay, winter snow storms, summer rainbows, or autumn leaves. I want to capture that beauty forever and surround myself with it as a reminder of my days in the sun during the dark days.

4. Singing

I have always liked to sing, especially with my daughter who is going to college for vocal performance. I have been thinking of getting lessons, but decided to ask my daughter to teach me new things over her breaks from school instead. I love singing in musicals. There is something very special about dressing up in fancy costumes and being someone else for awhile. I love the challenge of difficult music. I also like to sing Christmas carols with my daughter in church, go out for karaoke, or sing while my husband plays guitar. It has been a dream to write and perform my own music or to sing in a band. I don’t particularly like singing in choirs or singing music that I don’t like though.  

5. Traveling

I love to go to new places and experience new cultures. I love thinking and planning. I like to do a lot of research beforehand about the area I am going to and the things I could do while I am there. I like to interact with the local people. I love taking a lot of off the wall pictures. I almost love the planning as much as the traveling itself. I would love to be a world traveler off the beaten path someday when I have the freedom. I want to go to the underwater hotel in Dubai. I want to see the pyramids. I want to visit the roads that my ancestors tread. I want to see the beauty of Iceland. I want to sail the Caribbean. I want to sit on the beach in Bora Bora. I want to see every part of this world. 

22. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?

Day 22: Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?

This is a really difficult question for me right now… I see myself approaching a major fork in the road.. I don’t know where it will take me or what I will decide because there are too many unknowns right now..

I have been thinking more and more about going back to school to get my Master’s degree and then writing. I may have the opportunity to make this dream come true. If things don’t work out, I will simply keep on doing what I am doing….Nothing changes.

In 5 years…. I will be sending my last child off to college. I will have my Master’s degree and have finished my first book about growing up with an autistic sibling. I am almost done with my second book which I will write about my husband. It will be an American success story about a boy growing up in poverty, working hard, and succeeding in business. I also will complete my first Half Iron in this time frame. 

In 10 years….. I will be traveling the world with my husband taking pictures and writing about our adventures. I will be very active on my trips from all the endurance I gained from years of exercise. We will be free from anything that ties us down….Work…Debt….Pets…Our kids will be out of college and settling into their own lives. 

In 15 years…. My years of adventure and excitement are behind me now. I will be ready to settle down with a house full of cats. I will spend a lot of time in a rocking chair telling my grandchildren the story of my adventures. 

It is hard to guess what I will be doing next month, but I can see this being a plausible way of spending my next 15 years…