We ended Summer break with a lot of adventure in 3 of our country’s most beautiful states – Oregon, Montana and Wyoming.
A quick stop in Portland was all about family, and we spent a terrific evening with my cousin Kurt and his crew. Our kids hardly remember each others’ names – it’s been a long 2 years with both families fighting cancer – but they had such fun together! The next morning, Dan – another of my Most Awesome Cousins – and his girlfriend gamely stood in line with us at Voodoo Doughnuts before we caught a flight to MT.
In Yellowstone, we were amazed by the bison, geysers and huge buck that hung out at our campsite. But biking along Montana’s Gravelly Range, with only a herd of antelope racing by, was the highlight for me.
The time I spent riding alone next to each of our children (both during this trip and in Colorado 2 years ago) ranks as my proudest and most enjoyable as a mom.
Sara rode 15 miles one day, telling me stories the whole way. I wish I could bottle the contentment I saw on her face, to save for her for the years ahead. When she came to my tent later and asked if we could do yoga together – she had to be exhausted – my heart nearly burst!
Sam would tell you that it was too much biking for him, but he sang Ease on Down the Road at the top of his lungs while he pedaled! His killer smile was on full display when he saw snow, peed outside, rode through a herd of sheep and watched our guide Wes do cool tricks on his bike.
He also hunted for a special place in camp each evening to set up his plastic toy animals. There was “Pine Tree Peak,” “Matt’s and My Mini Man-Made Mountain” (after our guide Matt) and, at the base of Black Butte Mountain, just “The Rock.”
Nature does the heart and mind good. And makes the body stinky.
I’m getting ready to coach Sara and 15 other girls on a Girls on the Run team this Fall, and I just started a new Zumba® Kids class at the YMCA. Tomorrow I start teaching my first weekly adults’ class since treatment.
Joey is rehearsing for Capitol City Opera’s production of La Bohème – when he’s not at the job that pays for our awesome vacations! He’ll sing in the chorus and play the toymaker, Parpignol, in shows September 6-8. Other than filling in on a couple of barbershop shows (and reading Family Book every night!), it’ll be his first time on stage since Sam was born.
We are very proud of him and thoroughly enjoying speaking in Italian accents around the house!
My right implant continues to head south, but not enough yet to make me want more surgery, so I canceled my August appt with Dr. Woods. Don’t care about the other cosmetic stuff right now, either.
In physical therapy, I graduated to strength training for my left shoulder, where the muscles have atrophied. The therapists think it’s too soon to focus on my pecs, which are still so tight from radiation.
A new development is pain in my left hand that goes from my thumb and forefinger into my wrist. I haven’t had it looked at, yet, so no idea if it’s treatment-related or not. I actually thought it might be from braking while going downhill on the bike for so many miles, trying to stay next to cautious Sara :)
But none of this is affecting me much. My next check-up at Emory is in October.
Thank you for checking in!
Last week I had a check-up with my oncologist, Dr. O’Regan. In defiance of ever being sickly, I wore a bright dress and new shoes. After I had blood drawn, Dr. O’Regan did a physical exam, complimented my shoes and sent me on my way.
More good news – I taught 2 Zumba classes (subbing for other instructors) and my boobs didn’t fall off! Seriously, the right implant feels like it will drop onto the floor at any moment. So I wear a bra, all of the time. I’m still hoping it’s just a sensation I’ll get used to, but I suspect I’ll be back in the operating room eventually.
In the meantime, we’re off on another fabulous Yates Family Adventure!
Friday, we fly to Portland, Oregon, to visit family. We’ll spend a couple of nights in downtown Portland before flying to Bozeman, Montana on Sunday.
Early Monday we join Western Spirit Cycling and another family (whom we don’t know) for 5 days of biking and camping. We’ll ride across the Gravelly Range (mountains northwest of Yellowstone) into the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest and, by Thursday, into Yellowstone National Park. Back in Bozeman Friday night.
This will be my 3rd Western Spirit trip (our 2nd as a family). The first two were fabulous, so we have high expectations – physical activity, nothing but fresh air, awesome scenery and expert guides who make it a vacation as well as an adventure!
Joey and I can’t wait to see that part of the country and get recharged. The kids have been wearing their headlamps for days.
We’ll fly home to Atlanta Saturday, 8/2. Then we meet the kids’ teachers on Monday and school starts Wednesday.
Enjoy the rest of your summer – we will!
This past 4th of July I ran my first Peachtree Road Race.
I was SO happy to be there.
I almost didn’t go because I hadn’t trained properly. Sure, I’d had surgery the month before and couldn’t do much. But, frankly, I didn’t do anything.
Instead, I sat on my butt and whined about the things I couldn’t do. I spent too much time on Facebook begrudging working Zumba instructors and friends who posted about their BRFs, PRs and WODs. It was ugly and my negativity made for some unusually blah days around here.
I went to the race, anyway. 1 of 60,000.
The overcast skies were a blessing for those of us who hadn’t trained in the heat. The huge flag at the start was awesome and I was startled by how grateful I felt to be American. I thought about my cousins Brett and Mike, and my grandfather, and every other soldier who has ever braved real fireworks on behalf of the rest of us.
The start of the M wave (M for “mosey”) was kind of anticlimatic, but running through Buckhead was like a slideshow of my early twenties. Then I passed Piedmont Hospital where I left both of my breasts and the last of my cancer. Next was Midtown where I restarted my advertising career and finally grew comfortable in my own skin (age 27, give or take). Just in time to meet my husband…
Who was waiting for me at Piedmont Park.
Truth be told, I didn’t run all of the race. I even walked a few times, crossing the finish line in 1:16:08. Not a time I’d gleefully post on Facebook. Even so, the only disappointment of the day was the color of my first ever Peachtree shirt.
The lessons here? Participate. Run your own race. And, smile when you see the cameras.