Dirty Inspirations

When coaching athletes on self-talk, I encourage them to come up with a word or phrase that may help in keeping them present to their physical effort. Examining our self-talk properly can be a complex experience that takes time and practice while involving our sight, physical and emotional feelings, other sensations, and thoughts. Or, it can be a simple, playful intellectual slap on the face. Something like, “stay with me, relax for speed.”

After years of studying and practicing this type of mental focus in my own training and racing I’ve gotten pretty good at sharpening my mind at will, conjuring appropriate self-talk words or phrases in a flash, or kindly reprimanding myself for straying without placing value judgment on my disruptive thoughts. Racing can mentally be very logical and functional if you are willing to accept your fate on that day (or days), then hunker down and make the best of it, especially if one is comfortable being in discomfort.

But despite my ability to remain relevant in the face of desert heat, high winds, pouring rain, snow and pain—finding that elusive headspace in the office has never been as easy. 

It  could be because; when I am sitting at my computer I most often would rather be moving, or, that the emotional grind of surfing my favorite sites to catch up on the difficult world news can create internal angst, but I think for the most part its because I’ve trained my brain for many years to cope well with forward movement through nature and have not ‘trained’ for the mental rigors of day to day human living—until recently.  

I figured if I can stay present to my purpose with swollen, blistered feet I should be able to learn to suffer the sometimes tedious effects of organized work. So to help my cause I’ve been working on lots of types of sitting mediation (among other things) and last night we learned how to insert tiny meditations into our day with intermittent 10-15 second breath focus. One of the goals is to simply ‘Add spice to our day’. I can always deal with loads of spice and these are so fun and easy that I thought I’d share the great info! Here’s how it works:

Sit in a chair, feet on the ground, posture tall but relaxed and comfortable, eyes lightly closed. Let your breathing be relaxed and natural but as you breathe keep your focus on your breath ONLY. Don’t force the breathing, but when you do inhale be aware than you are inhaling and when you exhale, be aware that you are exhaling. Allow your focus to remain only on your breath for 10-20 seconds. After a very brief time and before your thoughts start to play in your head again, take your last aware breath, open your eyes and get on with your day. Do it again in an hour. And then again.

This is in some ways is the same manner in which we train in sport to control our head chatter (except there is more dialog involved and we are moving and in discomfort) – “relax for speed”, or in this case, “breathe for focus”. The result for practicing in both moving and sitting is a calm, yet laser focused mind, open to all tasks at hand, accepting, decisive. So if we slow down for a moment a few times a day our brain can actually work longer at warp speed and at will. The idea in both sport and work is that if we stop trying so hard and the results will happen.

Sprinkle this spice of calm focus into your day today and onward and you might even notie that “relax for speed” will happen a bit more quickly on your next run as well. Let me know how that goes! Namaste.

Amid the barrage of news about drugs, violence and corruption in our neighbor to the south, a few friends and I took off on bikes to remote parts of Mexico for a challenging cycling adventure and to find ‘real Mexico’. What we discovered on the surface was a materially poor, beautiful and rugged country, and much deeper, a close-knit and inherently giving people. The Mexican land kicked our asses and the people supported our endeavor with an inherent grace. In stark contrast to our ride, after 8 days and a little ‘boats, pedaling and buses’ – we ended up in Punta Mita for some surfing, whale watching, sun and family time. See the full picture story on my Facebook wall (schneiderterri@aol.com ) and a few pics below in my blog posts on the trip.

To recap these excellent couple weeks I thought I’d highlight some moments and experiences that seem to have contentedly stalled in my brain:

• Relentless pedaling uphill under a blazing sun in dead-still air feeling like a sweat drenched solar panel, then cresting a hill to start a descent and feeling an ever so slight breeze drape my scorched skin – and my body screaming – Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
• After 6 days of riding Mexico’s dusty interior, catching our first glimpse of the turquoise hued sea and white sand beach.
• Starting up pedaling after too long of a rest break – producing the most exquisitely painful, marrow deep, aching sensation in my flogged quads.
• That we were required to adapt to changing our route and plans many times. And that we did so with only a few glitches and with relative ease.
• Acknowledging on remote Day 3, with one of my riding-mates Greg, how completely ‘out-there’ we really were, with no connection to anything but our bikes and each other and finding out on that day that no Americans had ever come through the village we slept in. That giddy, edgy feeling of keeping-it-super-real.
• Waiting at the top of a hill in the blistering sun to regroup and being so completely hammered from unrelenting climbing that all we could do was laugh hysterically.
• That first sip of an icy cold Coke while standing in the blazing sun on the side of a long dusty road.
• Being verbally affirmed by a local, in yet another country, at how lucky we are as women to have the freedom to make choices about all aspects of our lives.
• Spending evenings with new-found friends who; helped shape our route and adventure, engaged in diverse and substantive conversation, always shared their best tequila, and who ultimately revealed the real face of Mexico.
• The cold lime-infused-cerveza sliding down my throat at the end of a day of hard riding.
• Experiencing a glimmer of doubt as to whether I could make it up yet another brutal climb, but always knowing that I could.
• Happening upon the spectacular El Cielito cabanas. A small piece of heaven after another hellish day of riding and too many prior flea infested beds.
• Having a father and his sons on horseback, gracefully move their cattle so we wouldn’t get swallowed up in the horn laden herd.
• Never really knowing what was ahead and having each day become a novel gift to unwrap.
• Seeing the Mexicans we met so pleased that we chose to see the real face of their country and people.
• That the route we chose was so sublimely inaccessible and supremely tough and in the end offered a satisfying and worthwhile endeavor with good friends. In short – doing cool things, in cool places, with cool people.

And post ride:

• To (carefully) rescue a puffer fish (with my surfboard), after it got washed up on shore and did its prickly/puffy thing for me.
• That stepping off sensation of catching a wave in sensuously warm water.
• Watching whales feed and breech.
• Knowing beloved members of my family so thoroughly enjoyed their vacation time.
• Coming home and looking back on a couple of weeks well spent. I am richer for the experience.

Enjoy my pics on Facebook…

Yelapa from the paragliding launch 2000 ft above

End of the road... to Yelapa

Two nights ago we met Luis, a retired veteranarian from El Tuito who, as with most English speaking folks we’ve met here was interesting to chat with and intrigued with our ride (and how we found our current location. He was our next ticket to paradise.

We disussed the problems with tortoise and jaguar poaching in Mexico, where to buy the best covert distilled tequilla (of which he gave us a sample) and our route and adventure. We were bummed at the prospect of being back on the main road the next day so he suggested we hit up El Tuito (his home town) and then Yelapa.

Yelapa

The only ways to get to Yelapa are by boat or by very substantial and reliable 4×4 vehicle. Even by mountain bike getting to Yelapa was a challenging endeavor for 4 weary riders.

After a lovely evening in El Tuito at the height of their 5 day religious festival, we ventured north to more parts unknown. At this point our legs are seriously fried, Greg has no brake pads and we are in good spirits but not certain how many more long, steep and loose climbs we can muster.

Yelapa to the beach

We would ultimately end up at sea level on this day but the route kept us high at around 2000 feet for a few hours… UP and DOWN and UP and DOWN… on a steep jungle road. Then we hit the paragliding launch ramp and our first sight of Yelapa far below. Gorgeous and enticing but we still had our work cut out for us. With no brakes for days,Greg was reduced to walking our severe downhill plunge to the beach, which ultimately ended up in a hike-a-bike through a creek bed to town.

Yelapa was the end of our ride and another piece of heaven in an otherwise distinctly challenging mountain terrain but not quite the end of our adventure. We got a boat ride to Puerto Vallarta (huge SHOCK to be back in ‘civilization’!) and then had to ride out to the airport to catch a local bus back to Punta Mita. With serious traffic and no shoulder on the road, the latter ended up being the most dangerous part of our entire 8 day trip and it didn’t help that we weren’t psyched to be back among many people and cars.

Some of my family arrived last night and we are all now staying in luxury in Punta Mita on the beach and I have that dicotomous sense of enjoying our relaxation time while a big part of me yearns for longer stretches of unknown road. I’m already planning another adventure.

The start of our 'boat, pedal and bus' to Punta Mita

I’ll be back at you with closing thoughts and until then we are surfing,snorkleing and planning a birthday party in a couple nights. If you are down this way stop on by…

Back at you soon,

terri

Our first glimpse of the beach

I can not remember a day in the distant past which felt this tough. No laughter today at the top of our relentless climbs on another stretch of brutal road, -just blank stares by all. My back did not cooperate today and I was reduced to stopping on all the climbs to stretch. Very frustrating as my legs have felt very strong thusfar. We rolled into El Tuito after 4 hours and only 28 miles of riding. With our loads and poor road quality and endless steep climbs we are reduced to a crawl but if done again I would not change the route at all. We´ve made many new friends and encountered Mexico in a very raw way and >I have a renewed love and respect for this place and these people. Its  been a brilliant adventure and a part of me will be sad to end it tomorrow.

Top of the hill laughing fit

We head back to Punta Mita to end our ride and meet up with my family for a few days of surfing, fun and exploring. I´m certain I´ll be back at you with closing thoughts as I process all that we have experienced.

Best from El Tuito Mexico,

Terri

After a seriously brutal day of riding we stumbled upon a small piece of heaven .

El Cielito oasis

Our bungalo

Yesterday we were mostly on busy roads and as our goal is to see as much of off-the-beaten-path Mexico as possible we headed west from La Cumbre to hug the coast and see what we could find. By desiring to find a beach and anthro-americanizing our trip momuntarily, we figured that if we head toward the ocean we eventually would be riding along it… Not. The terrain in this region outside of the prevalent marijuana growth is agricultural and/or grazing land and is quite dense and hilly. Today would be another ride on sandy, washboardy, gravelly, rollercoaster roads in a wet sauna.

Cock fighting "farm"

At one point we regrouped at the top of a climb and we were so completely trashed we reduced ourselves to hyserical laughter at our predicament. A few kilometers further along we meandered through yet another tiny, very poor village looknig for a hotel of some sort when we stumbled upon El Cielito Cabanas. It was an intense bizarre  contrast.

Impeccable cabanas and pool were perched atop a cliff over looking miles of empty white sand beach – there was no question we would break our budget of $10-night and stay in this oasis. A dip in the ocean and some food later and were were concerned we wouldn´t want to roll out in the morning.

Thus far my companions on this adventure (and many prior) have been excellent teammates. Louise Cooper, Nancy Bristow and Greg  Thomas have rolled with every twist and turn in our trip including our status as the rolling Blancho freakshow through most of our trip. What we keep hearing from our new Mexican friends generally is, ¨How did you find this place¨…

The dreaded HWY 200. We exited it as quickly as possible.

We headed west from Tomatlan with visions of white sand beaches. We hit the coast Hwy and headed south to La Cumbre – no beach in sight – confirming our naivete.

Our first dead end.

Virtually every town in Mexico has a town square and church (usually in the same area) and we´ve programmed ourselves to head for this area to find food and lodging.  We´ve seen a diverse array of churches from the ornate cathedral sized in Talpa, to the basic cinderblock walled, doorless structure in Pina Suarez. Reguardless of church size and decor, these people covet their religion and the churches are easy to find. A non-outdoor-cart cooked meal, on the other hand seems to be difficult to come by in the remote towns. We found out from another impeccable English speaker who´s husband got deported from the US after getting arrested, that most Mexicans in the remote small towns we have seen can not afford a sit down dinner so these tiny towns do not harbor many restaurants. And in the ones we do find open, someone will often scoot out the door to go and purchase the ingredients to make our meal (tortillas, cheese, eggs, beans). ´Wé´ve been going ´sin carne´and thus far no one has gotten ill (knock on cement).

Another... end of the road.

We ride several hours today but had no interest in deciding on a destination – until we had to. Once we found out there was no beach in site we wandered aimlessly into a couple dead ends, through a swamp, banana, papaya, and coconut crops and ended up in Pina Suarez in a bed filled with fleas. Back at you…

Hotelier in Llano Grande

Entrance to our hotel courtyard in Llano Grande

Llano Grande

We just arrived in Tomatlan! Found a place to crash, showered the inches of dirt off our tired bodies and we are now looking for food and cervesa fria. Wow – this type of cycling reminds me of adventure racing – a ton of work on a bad stretch of road with loaded gear in oppressive heat = very slow moving. It was an awesome day and we are slightly bummed to be back in a bigger town.  We´re not sure where we´re headed tomorrow but I´ll check back in after tomorrows ride!

xoxo – Terri

Llano Grande

Road to Tomatlin

Looking down on Talpa. The religious mecca of this area.

Its pre’-dawn Monday morning and I´m sitting in the town square of Llano Grande. I can hear more roosters crowing than I can count and yet no signs yet of people.

Road to La Cuesta

The Church. Talpa

Yesterday we rode through Le Cuesta and quite readily into the middle-of-nowhere-Mexico. In several hours of riding on a mixed bag of rocks, ruts, washboard, and sand (and about 1 mile of pavement…) we saw 3 trucks.

Greg and Nancy

Louise

There is one “hotel” in Llano Grande and after showing us the room in which his wife birthed 16 children he informed us that no American had ever stayed in his hotel before. That was not surprising to me as I´m not certain that anyone not from this area would be able to find it.

A short bit of flat road.

Mexicans are readily helpful in giving directions but if they are tripped up by our hack-Spanish or do not know the answers to our questions they will make something up (this is quite common in many countries).

La Cuesta

We were told NOT to ride the main road to Talpa – it turned out to be paved and no big deal. We were heavily warned against another dirt road south of La Cuesta because on Sat. and Sun. drunk men might find us enticing (I then nicknamed this – The Rape Rd). We were then advised to take another northern rt across to Tomatlan (Rape Rd. Anex) but that it would be best to go on Monday and that it was anywhere from 20-180K to Llano Grande.

The road to Llano Grande

Rape Rd Anex was our choice (which ended up turning into The Rape Rd but we figured it was Monday and so we should be ok…). This road turned into a rutted, bouldered, sandy, washboardy stretch which decended to La Cuesta then on to Llano Grande. I can´t imagine we could find a more remote region of Mexico and we are in adventure heaven. And yet every where we go we meet at least one Mexican who has lived or lives in the US and who speaks very good English. Some of them are here on extended family visits, some were deported and some moved back to be with family. All are open, helpful and very friendly.

Road to Llano Grande

Family ties are stronger than we can remember them being in the States and yet one woman stated how much she admired our freedom as US women toi make choices and live our lives as we wish.

We´re psyched to  head soon for more parts uknown (none of our current route is on our maps). Our goal today is Tomatlan and the coastal area…

The Church. Mascota.

We tried several means to leave Mascota todaya but alas we are still here. The incessant rain, lack of warm rain gear and mountain terrain that lies ahead kept us off our bikes. So we explored the area a bit and had a lovely dinner with our newfound Mexican friends (read Root Canal).

Herba Buena area just outside of Mascota

This mountainous Sierra Madre region of Jalisco is lush and fertile with copious agave crops and the people are open and outwardly helpful – in our cold and wet state today in the back of a pickup truck we were given tequila to warm up. Mexican hospitality at its best. Overall Mascota appears to be a slightly upscale mountain town.

Federali always packin big guns...

Day 3 has dawned clear and cold (we are at 5000 feet) and we´ll be heading south to Talpa, where many Mexicans make pilgrimage each year to the Virgin Mary. The brutally ornate Catholic churches remind me of many days past in American Catholicism.

Herba Buena area.

After much discussion and deliberation (and WAY too much information offered from locals) we´ll be changing our plan again and heading south east, then west toward Llano Grande. I´m restless to get started again. Back at you as I can…

Church ruin in Mascota.The Church in Mascota.The first of much 'advice' we acquired on our route. All written down on a napkin...The map. And directions on napkin since map didn't have very many roads we needed on it.

Bus to edge of PV to avoide massive traffic

It was about 4 pm when Louise doubled over with cramps

and crying out for help. Greg and I rushed down

from where we had been waiting on the side of the

road, extracted her from her pedals and carried her off the road.

     Seven hours earlier we mounted our 5 mtn bikes loaded

down with packed panniers – 4 hard core endurance athletes and guest, and

headed east from Puero Vallarta.

Checking out our first of many cobbled street villages.

    As the temp. rose so did we as we climbed for hours. We ultimately ended up on a 12% grade for miles, pedaling through blazing sun. After 6000 feet of climbing we had covered only 40 miles and with darkness looming we put out our thumbs. The couple who picked us up were heading to Mascota so that she could perform an emergency root canal. It was a poignant end to a brutal day of getting our asses kicked in rural Mexico and we were reduced to hysterical laughter in a pile of bodies bikes and gear in the back of  a pick up truck. What a perfect day 1 of our adventure!

The inevitable ride to Mascota.

The first of many animal signs we'd see. Most of which were not on well traveled roads.

    Mascota has proved to be lovely and over pizza and beer last night we planned to replan our second day. Thus far we´ve riden through mountains and a rain forest and have found the Mexican people to be helpful and friendly.  I´m sitting early morning in our hotel courtyard writing this, listening to the church bells and I hear my teammate stirring in the room.

We´ve decided that Menno will stay behind in Mascota to take in the sights and Louise, Nancy, Greg and I will forge ahead in the rain toward Tomaltin… back at you later!!!