Last night my soccer playing middle son and I went down to Wolff’s Biergarten to take in the women’s World Cup semi-final game. It was a great match up – #1 ranked Germany vs #2 USA and we, along with the majority of those present, were thrilled when our women were victorious with a final score of 2-0.
The bar was packed and the roars of the crowd were deafening. It was fantastic. There were so many familiar faces and it took both hands to count the number of former students who were present. Time does move on, doesn’t it?
The last time our women’s team won the World Cup was 1999, the same year my middle son was born. I remember we were in Harwich Port, MA and had the game on the little television set which was in our bed and breakfast. My oldest son was two and was completely captivated by the post-game excitement emanating from that small TV perched atop the mini fridge. It was unforgettable.
If England beats Japan tonight, Sunday’s final, a USA v England match on Independence weekend promises to be epic. I hope to be with both of my big guys, Liam the Anglophile and Griffin the baby born in our last winning year, at the Biergarten. Maybe I’ll see you there!
Photos from last night’s match are here.
I’ve been a member of ARE for maybe a year or so and, other than my recent forays into their (our?) Thursday Night Summer Trail Series, I haven’t really participated in much. Last week was a crazy, busy week for me with an activity or event every single night other than Monday, which ended up working out (pun intended!) perfectly. You see, Monday nights, according to the ARE members’ calendar, there is a group run of approximately 5.5 miles at a 10:00 mile per hour pace. Can you say right in my wheelhouse?
You should know by now that I’m not really a joiner and I don’t typically run with anyone beyond my Lunar B*tches and my friend, James. This means that getting in my car and driving down to Kinderhook to meet and run with people I had never met was a bit of a leap for me. But, the sun was shining and I wanted to start my week on a strong and positive foot, so off I went.
Pulling into a stranger’s driveway is kind of an odd experience, but the host of the event was friendly and chill. Guess what? Turns out she is also a librarian! Pretty cool, right? She actually didn’t make the run due to her participation the previous day in a trail half, but there were 6 or 7 other folks who laced up and took a counterclockwise lap around Kinderhook Lake. I originally set off on my own, but somewhere around my third mile I hooked up with three other runners and we finished up together.
Everyone was really nice, funny and low key about pace. I had dinner plans and needed to get back to Albs, but the rest of the group had brought food to share post-run. Who knows? Maybe I’ll cook a little something next time and make it an evening.
2 out of 3 (again) on the Lunar B*tches
After missing last week’s run at Five Rivers, I was excited to get back on the trail with Thursday night’s 3 miler up at Thacher Park. And I do mean up. The first approximate mile was pretty much an uphill climb. The saving grace was the fact that the trail wound about a bit, in a similar fashion to the lines for the amusement rides at Disney World, so you never really saw how far there remained before things might level off.
Thacher Park is known for the phenomenal views from the escarpment, but the trails we were on were set in the thick of the woods with lush, green views and gurgling water from active streams. I’ve only run up here in the fall when most of the foliage was already making a bed on the forest floor, so this was a new perspective for me. The trails were a bit rutted and rocky, with some potentially slippery moss, but more than wide enough in most places for three runners to run shoulder to shoulder. The surface was intermittently marked by mud after the rainy week we’ve had, but there was room to avoid it.
After the intense opening climb, the path leveled off for probably* a mile plus before the descent and loop back to our starting point. Those parts were pretty damn idyllic and nearly inspired us to take a second loop, before we decided to cross the road and run along the escarpment trail a bit until we felt finished. Of the three runs in the series which I’ve been able to make, this was the most challenging and I’d like to get back up there to explore more of the trails. Maybe I can find one (or you might know one to share?) that doesn’t start quite so aggressively.
Check here for next week’s run, but I think I heard it might be back at Thacher – with a bar-b-q! I’ve got the Albany House and Garden tour that night, but I’m confident I’ll meet my goal of hitting at least 50% of the runs in this series.
*continuing to hold true to my vow of not taking any electronic gadgets into the woods.
On a night that felt borderline oppressive in the city, I loaded up my wagon with lots of water, towels and Jeter and headed south to Schodack Island State Park for the first trail run of the summer season. One of my summer goals is to make at least half of these runs and, so far, I’m batting a thousand.
I’ve never visited this park before but I know I’ll be back. The drive took about 20 minutes from the DelSo, yet ultimately felt much further away. The trails were amazing – wide, soft and flat. The breeze coming in off of the river was lovely and the temperature was absolutely perfect.
I’m really working on simply enjoying these runs and to foster that mindset, I left my phone in the car. That means no Runmeter recording my miles and no motivating playlist. You know what? Other than my unfamiliarity with the course and where I was in terms of miles, I didn’t miss either. The magnificent green ferns and plentiful pink, white and purple phlox along the trail were stimulation enough.
This particular run was followed by a potluck bar-b-q, which I didn’t participate in due to a need to get back home. Jeter, however, was rewarded for his efforts when he scored a charred burger that he found on the ground. I believe we both left the park happy.
It probably wasn’t coincidence that I heard that Springsteen song not once, but twice, on my way to the 35th reunion of my 8th grade class, right? There probably isn’t a song more appropriate for getting together with classmates and reminiscing about shared childhoods than that nugget that made its debut the same year I graduated from high school.
I’ve been to school reunions before, 4 of them actually. But this, the first middle school reunion planned and executed, was different. After a couple of days reflecting about it, I finally recognized what made this reunion so very novel. From the first M-W reunion in 1984, which I attended in a white crepe number I referred to as my Ginger Grant dress, I went with the intention of showing people who I had become, how I had grown and changed. Going to a reunion of my 8th grade classmates couldn’t have been more dissimilar.
Attending a reunion, in my actual hometown, with other members of the Class of 1980 wasn’t an exercise in validating who I am now. Instead it was a warm embrace from the friends who have always known exactly who I am. From the former teacher who remembered me as being “so smart” to the women who made a point of telling me that I had given them something intangible that they had never forgotten, those that were present on Saturday night demonstrated that the value I held for them was completely unrelated to anything I may have achieved in my life. It was simply because of who I am, and who I’ve always been, in an absolutely organic way.
Getting together with those who shared critical, right of passage events – field trips to NYC, hitchhiking adventures, explorations with gateway substances, first kisses, was positively fantastic. The hard work of classmates to make this event happen was greatly appreciated by all who attended and I truly believe every one there had a special and memorable night. For those who weren’t there, by choice or circumstance, you were missed. Pencil this event in for 2020. It’ll be epic.
1. Eat and drink at Nine-Pin Cider’s Dine’n
2. Dinner at 15 Church Street.
3. Paddleboarding on Saratoga Lake
4. A day hike in the Catskills with my camera.
5. Host a party on my new and improved deck
6. Get to a Soul Cafe dinner
7. Volunteer to prepare a meal at the Ronald McDonald House
8. Check out local Farmer’s Markets more often.
9. Get away for at least one night with the girls
10. Take the train to Hudson for an afternoon
11. Figure out what to do with my weedy, unappealing backyard
12. Watch one of those series that everyone talks about but, I’ve never seen.
13. Make it to at least ½ of ARE’s Summer Trail Runs.
14. Repurpose my spare bedroom into something more useful.
15. Enjoy these last couple of months of having all 3 of my boys home.
You remember that Billy Preston song, don’t you? I don’t think I’ve heard it or even thought of it in at least 20 years. Until about two weeks ago, that is. The context that day was a theme park, a carousel, and a boy. The song popped into my head and caused me to smile.
The most recent mowing of my neighbor’s yard also featured circles. I know I’ve shared before the artistic mowing for which, among his other artistic endeavors, my neighbor is known. As soon as I saw the pattern from my deck, I once again heard that tune bouncing around in my brain.
During my run last night, the song came for the third time. These things usually happen in threes, right? I was reflecting on a personal situation and thought about the uncountable conversations which seem to consistently travel in a circular fashion. Although I like to travel in a circle, preferring to take a different route home than the one I took during departure, when it comes to relationship interactions, circular is definitely not satisfying.
Will it go round in circles? Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?
I just don’t know.