Sarita Shoemaker

Black Beans From Scratch Recipe

Currently cans of beans run 4 for $5 to .99 each. EXPENSIVE and the quality is not the greatest. I’ve tried many brands, probably every brand available at Whole Foods, Lassen’s Sprouts, Pavillion’s, Vons and Stater Bros.

I have begun the quest to make my own black beans (stove top) and failed about 4 or 5 times over the past 8 years. They were ALWAYS crunchy. We wasted so much time and money (and anticipation)!

The Instant Pot Pressure Cooker has saved the day for me and I am happy to present a recipe to make some seriously DELICIOUS black beans in 40 minutes.

This is a variation of a few recipes I read online and my many failures.

The flavor of these beans: salty and savory.

Set these items out before you begin.

INGREDIENTS

a Pressure Cooker like Instant Pot
2 cups Dry beans (preferably organic) rinsed and duds/dirt picked out
8 cups veggie stock
1 yellow onion cut in half (take off outer shell)
3 bay leaves
1t cumin
1t sea salt
1 orange cut in half

DIRECTIONS

Place all ingredients in Instant Pot.
Set on HIGH.
Cook for 40 minutes.
Let is release on its own for the best results.
Open lid according to instruction and serve up!

Out Of Your Comfort Zone

christmas-figurines-angels-bw-img_9955_0108 — My Aunt LOVES decorating with little knickknacks at Christmas.

The holidays are here. We are pushed out of our normal routines and “comfort” zones and for some it causes great strain on their lives.

2017 is just around the corner! You just need to survive this small section of time. If you are gutting it out try this simple approach which has worked for us:

Ask yourself…WILL “IT” (the thing you are contemplating) MATTER IN 5 OR 10 YEARS?

Take the HIGH ROAD.
Chin up and keep smiling.
Don’t burn bridges.
Stay true to your word.
Keep your opinions to yourself.
Do your best to set an good example as a human being.
Don’t give gifts you cannot afford and definitely don’t allow someone’s opinion of that choice bring you down.
EXERCISE! Get your body MOVING. Break a sweat. Push yourself out of your comfort zone.
Rescue an animal from a shelter or official rescue.

OK, that last one is MAYBE not so easy for everyone. Personally I have discovered adding animals to my life has calmed me down. They appreciate EVERYTHING good about you – even the little things that other humans look past.

Back to EXERCISE!

First things first: show up. Don’t blow off the one hour of time for YOU. When you are hesitating or coming up with really really good excuses…come to camp (or go to your gym, class, workout…).

In our program we use the most positive encouragement we can find to get you to remember WHY you showed up. It wasn’t to jaw jack or just earn a credit (we’re pretty sure).

borg-scale-of-exertion-1 — Borg Scale of Exertion.

Without removing the fun socializing at camp, WORK HARDER and DO MORE!

Go out for a coffee to really catch up at camp or your workout.

You should be working at a level that would make conversation very difficult. The Borg Scale will help you gauge yourself. We want you at 9 or 10 for 85% of the class at least.

Together we will beat the stress of the holiday period and make progress toward a healthier and better quality of life.

That’s just a fact no one can argue with.

See you out on the planet soon!

Prince Or Scientology

PRINCE OR S C I E N T O L O G Y
The choice is obvious when you are 17 years old.

I almost got to see Prince in concert in 1985.

I had floor seats!! What!?! Riverport Coliseum!?

I would have been, let’s see, 17 years old.

Likely I would have gone to this concert with my friend Monika and her sister Linda.

Monika and I spent hours dancing in her living room (instead of doing our homework) with her Border Collies to 1999. I think we played that album 100 times a day, no joke.

That’s when the date 1999 was impossibly in the future. That would be in 14 more years.

INSTEAD, I was locked up behind a gun toting guarded barbed wire fence Serving Mankind at a secret compound near H e m e t, CA

Mentally and physically forced to work from 9:00am until 11:00pm, sometimes more.

They say, “you don’t know what you don’t know”. I guess the way you find out what you didn’t know is by staying alive and meeting people your age from all over the world.

Having done that for the last 30+ years I realize just how much I missed.

Personally I know what I saw and did within the Church of Scient ology’s management group called The Sea Organization.

Now that I am a mother, one of the the worst memories would be a grown married father molesting and having sex with an underage girl. I think they are both still members…he should be in JAIL. It was kept extremely under wraps during a Religious Freedom Crusade I attended in Portland Oregon in 1986 for so many reasons – I felt they were (at the time) justified. I know the girl. She was my friend, close friend. The molester worked for Author Services, Inc.

Today, 2016, the current promotion and marketing (they still send me literature, letters, books, pamphlets and the like to entice me to donate money to their latest endeavor to help save mankind) is packed full of bold faced lies.

I’ll have to tell you more about that someday.

Meanwhile, instead of getting to see Prince in concert with Sheila E (CAN YOU IMAGINE!?!) I was helping Save Mankind (as you can see on my ribbon) at a secret base in the middle of the desert of California earning pretty ribbons.

Oh, and they have almost $40,000 of my money they refuse to give back to me (another story of insanity). I guess I’ll need an attorney to help me on that because in order to get my money I have to go into their Church and fill in forms and follow their process but they have apparently declared me a Supressive Person which means I’m forbidden from going into their Churches or talking to any of their members).

Moral of my post today: To be happy, don’t join or support the Church of Scientology. It is not what THEY say it is. It hurt me and my family. Pain that cannot be undone. Loss that they could care less they created.

PS: I did get to see Prince eventually in Los Angeles at a “rave-style” club. A transformed warehouse I’d guess in the early 90’s. Phallic was the theme. Drinks were flowing and dancing was going! I had a blast!!

Being judged is FUN!

BEING JUDGED IS FUN! Said no one ever.

Last night was our annual financial meeting.

A room of casual millionaires listening to a great man give his point of view on the market and the future.

This Great Man has been correct every single year we’ve been attending this dinner and that’s why I never ever want to miss what he has to say. I’ll let you be the judge of my financial status (which I’m pretty sure you have already done…because that behavior seems to be ‘natural’ these days doesn’t it?).

Thankfully, The Great Man happens to be a dear friend of my husband. He has taken us through the deepest saddest and toughest times of our lives as husband and wife. You would like him because he is real, honest and sincerely cares.

He knows I’m vegan and asked my husband if I’d like a vegan meal as opposed to the giant italian style dinner they normally serve. Mistakenly, my husband said YES. For the record I’d NEVER EVER want to be accommodated for my diet or health choices. I’m a big girl and I’d be just fine sipping a glass of red wine and passing up the food. I was there to hear The Great Man speak anyway.

Husband Unit informs me that there will be a vegan dinner for me. I got pissed instantly.

“No, please tell him no thank you. I’ll be fine.” I calmly reply via text. Meanwhile I think I got an ulcer at the thought of being cared for “specially”.

“Too late. I’m not telling him no.”

“OK” I shot back, irritated.

Recently I’ve been through the Super Wash of Criticism and Being Judged. It’s been painful and my stomach is in knots trying to navigate past it. People I thought were my allies shoved knives in my back quietly. Why? Why? Why? I repeated to myself.

In a casual conversation I discovered what I’d been through is nothing new to other Small Business Owners. It seems all business owners have customers with “good ideas”, “great advice”, “you should”s and “you shouldn’t”s to give you.

When you are a Small Business you listen. Sometimes the criticism is hurtful but you still listen with an open mind. “Never take it personally” my Chiropractor reminds me pretty much EVERY visit. “You can’t take it personal.” “It’s business, don’t let it get to you.” Well that’s not who I am now is it? I’ll save that for another post.

Back to my dilemma at the Millionaire Meeting…

We took a spot at the second to the furthest round table from the presentation screen. I was a little concerned about being able to see and hear. We were six tables back, about 40 yards maybe. The table was supposed to seat 8, but it was set for 10. Not much elbow room. I was happy for The Great Man because I’ve watched his business expand and the men and women (mostly in their 60’s and above) arrive excitedly to hear him speak. People were there on their own initiative and it was PACKED.

The first speaker, Mr. Surfer (names changed to protect their identities by the way), started us off. I watched intently and tried to hear him. The acoustics were tough and people were still arriving so I didn’t catch much of what he was saying.

I began to discover the table in front of us had two individuals that were there for the free food with zero interest in what was happening at the front. They carried on talking over Mr. Surfer and even cracking jokes. BUMMER. I felt it was just plain disrespectful too.

I cupped my hands to my ears to hear better. It worked.

Mr. Surfer finished his presentation and turned it over to The Great Man.

I leaned in and pushed my cupped hands closer to my head and ears.

The food began to be served while all of this was happening. Clanking spoons on Family-Style size trays of food, people whispering to pass things, glasses clinking and REALLY old people trying to QUIETLY ASKING TO HAVE THE SALAD PASSED. This was going to be tough so I mentally prepared myself to not get my knickers in a knot.

I sipped my red wine slowly then cupped my ears again.

The Great Man had the front of the room mesmerized. No one was passing food or talking. What he was saying was interesting AND important.

The table behind me seemed to be filled with all men in snazzy suits. One man in particular had pin stripes on. Reminded me of my days in the big Corporate World: The Suits. These were the “Important Men” in the room. The were clean shaven and looked sharp.

They also completely forgot they were in a meeting with The Great Man speaking and were talking amongst themselves even chuckling and laughing at their own conversations. I turned to look, unable to hear The Great Man, hoping to give them a hint that it was tough to hear.

That’s when Philip, the BMOC of the Dining Hall arrived. He was standing behind my left shoulder about one foot. “HELLO LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I UNDERSTAND THERE IS ONE OF YOU HERE THAT HAS REQUIRED A VEGAN MEAL!?” he f’ing thunders loudly.

I winced and turned to face him – my neck was red hot and I was embarrassed. Exactly what I was afraid was going to happen was happening. I was very sure he did that on purpose but I took a breath and quietly said, forcing him to kneel down to hear me, “Would you not make a spectacle of me please? Maybe bring it down in volume a few notches?”

“OH, SORRY ABOUT THAT. I SEEM TO TALK LOUD ALL THE TIME. I’LL BE SENDING OUR COOK OUT TO DISCUSS THE MENU OPTIONS FOR YOU TONIGHT, OKAY!?!?” he was 1 decibel quieter and 20 decibels higher in condescending tone.

I turned to my husband, my stomach was in knots, and looked him in the eyes visibly upset. He got the message and chuckled leaning over to the person sitting next to him mumbling something about “oh man I’m gonna be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

I turned back to Philip and said, again quietly, “Look, I would prefer to not have any special treatment.”

“OH DON’T WORRY, MY COOK WILL COME TO YOU AND TOGETHER YOU CAN DETERMINE WHAT IT IS YOU CAN EAT TONIGHT.” Yep, still loud and yep, still condescending.

I took a deep breath and thanked him very much. He went away. THANK GOD.

The giant bowls and plates of Chicken Parmesan started to come out along with the Salmon and Spinach. I kept myself busy helping the nice millionaire Janice next to me and her 97 year old father Spencer (he looked like Spencer Tracy to me) who was so nice as well. Side note: neither of them could hear anything as well…she repeatedly asked me what The Great Man had just said and was scribbling notes and clarifying. I did my best to help but The Suits had brought it up a notch and were a little louder.

Waiters were buzzing around being super helpful to everyone. These young men (I did not see any women) were on-point! Clearing the tables as fast as a dish was empty, filling glasses, keeping the booze flowing…great team.

Philip arrived with Eduardo, The Chef. “HELLO AGAIN. I HAVE THE CHEF EDUARDO HERE FOR YOU TO DISCUSS HOW WE CAN ACCOMMODATE YOU TONIGHT.” They were both wearing name tags. I can read.

I hear Husband Unit groan behind me…and next I hear a soft bit of laughter between him and his buddy in the next seat.

Eduardo squats down next to me on my left (my husband is seated on my right).

He’s calm and quiet and I tried to explain that I didn’t want ANY of this special treatment. He stared at me blankly.

I told him I was just fine with everything and he did not need to do a thing for me and thanked him profusely for the gesture.

“So you are OK with the salad?”

Yes, I assure him quietly. I’m really OK.

“Can you tell me what your food allergies are? I can make something for you, really no problem.” he whispers back.

I LOVE THIS MAN FOR NOT MAKING A SPECTACLE OUT OF ME.

“I’d prefer not to eat dairy or meat.”

“OK no problem. I can make something for you. We’ll bring you a salmon with no butter on it.”

I now stare at him blankly but say, “it’s OK. I’ll just have this salad you’ve prepared here.”

“But the salad has blue cheese on it.”

“I can handle taking the cheese off. Seriously, no problem.”

“OK you can eat the calamari too. It is no butter in the batter. (sic)”

“Is it possible to get just vegetables and maybe some light pasta.”

“Yes! Yes I have colorful squash and broccoli and carrot.”

“Perfect – thank you so much. And please, just a child size. I don’t eat much.” and I show him with both of my hands how much I meant. I felt this was necessary because of the size of the dishes being served around me were feeding 8-10 people. This place is very generous in their servings.

The Chef went away…quietly. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let it out slowly.

Suddenly the calm was broken, “DID YOU GET EVERYTHING YOU NEEDED FOR YOUR SPECIAL MEAL?” boomed Philip standing above my left shoulder but speaking to the entire table (and The Suits as well it seemed).

I’d watched Philip moving around the room at other tables.

His excuse for talking loudly to me “because he always does” was pure bullshit. He was expressly quiet at every single other table.

My gut was right: he was judging me and going to make me pay.

Him and all of The Suits.

At this point I wondered if this was a joke. When my husband and I have our patience taken to the edge we both look around to see if we’re on an episode of “Boiling Point” or the like.

Nope, no cameras. Just The Suits having a great time, Philip making a spectacle of me and The Great Man yammering at the front of the room with a slide on the screen and a laser pointer bouncing all around.

I whispered to Husband Unit, “I’m going to stand at the front so I can hear a little better.” I scooted my chair back slowly so I wouldn’t knock over my neighbor then inconspicuously moved to the front of the room.

IT WAS A MIRACLE!!

The Great Man’s voice was clear. I wish I’d brought my chair to just sit and hear him.

I stayed up there for about 15 minutes leaning against the wall. It was time to go back to my seat and disconnect from the best lecturer I’d heard in a decade.

As I walked toward the back I noticed, again, the Millionaires at the front tables all craning to not miss one word The Great Man was saying.

Sitting back down, Philip arrives with my meal. My “please keep it small” request was DENIED! The two-foot long oblong PLATTER was set down after space was made on either side of my space (remember, room for 8 yet set for 10..NO SPACE FOR THIS GIANT PLATTER).

Will this unspoken torture end soon?

Now I felt obligated to eat. Philip did not say a thing as he walked away (THANK YOU BABY JESUS).

The Suits yammered on in their own world, I poked my fork into my vegetables. My stomach was twisted in knots at this point and I was not hungry at all. AT ALL.

It doesn’t really matter whether or not the food was good.

What mattered to me was how gracious The Great Man had been to offer. I ate. Slowly.

When I was full I pushed my trough toward the center of the table hoping one of those On Point Waiters would grab it…and they did!

I listened as best I could to The Great Man finish his presentation. He was talking about having a dream and sticking to THAT. Letting him help all of us accomplish THAT DREAM.

A photo of me and one of my dreams popped up on the screen. My stomach dropped. I looked around nervously hoping the next slide would hurry up!

Time stood still and that slide stayed up there.

I felt my hearing go, pretty sure a natural response in a state of panic.

I had NO WHERE to run and prayed NO ONE would match my face to the Vegan Spectacle that anyone with decent hearing experienced.

Click. The next slide.

I exhaled.

Philip: shame on you for your condescending behavior.

Husband Unit: please never ever accept “special treatment for my vegan choices” on my behalf. Ask me. Chances are I’m going to go with the flow.

To Anyone Bothered By My Personal Or Business Choices And Willing To Act or React On Them: Am I your only target? Think about it for a second.

Please remember and realize: I do not treat anyone this way. When you treat me this way you are making my life harder than it already is. You have no idea. Please be kind or kinder.

In closing, karma.

PS: If you would like to meet The Great Man, PM me.

“Epic” Fairy Tale Pumpkin Smoothie

1 Serving

100% Delicious

We grew 33 Fairy Tale pumpkins this year. The largest one weighed in at 47 lbs. No joke.
Now I’m making everything pumpkin.
This smoothie is delicious. It tasted like pumpkin pie.

What you need

Blender or similar
Pint Glass
1 Scoop Epic Vanilla Protein Powder
1 Cup Almond Milk
10 Ice Cubes
2/3 Cups Pumpkin Purée (fresh baked, steamed or pressure cooked is best)
5 Dates (pitted)
1T nut butter
1T Maple Syrup
1T Pumpkin Spice OR
1/2t Penzy’s Cinnamon
1/4t Organic Ginger powdered
1/4t Nutmeg

I build my shakes in a Blendtec in this order on purpose. I’ve learned how to avoid chunkier and powder puffs. The first two steps are critical in my opinion.

The simple steps are...

PLACE ALL OF YOUR INGREDIENTS ON THE COUNTER BEFORE YOU BEGIN.
Combine milk and ice cubes in your pint glass (or serving glass). It should reach 75% full. If it doesn’t, add ice if you like it thicker or almond milk if you like it less thick.
Pour cubes and milk into blender.
Protein Powder
Spices (remember it is EITHER / OR on the two suggestions)
Nut Butter
Pumpkin purée
Maple syrup
Put lid tightly on blender and BLEND on “smoothie” level. A Blendtec increases and reduces the blade spin over about 30 seconds. After one blend process, remove lid.
8) Chop dates and add (this is for sweetness and thickness…I also love getting the jelly bellies at the end and during drinking my shakes).
Put lid back on tightly. Blend again on smoothie setting or until you don’t hear stuff bumping into the blades.
Serve it up!!

Spartan Training Day #1

Houghton-Schreiber Park, Simi Valley, Ca

The plan was a 30 minute workout. Quick and dirty.

Just to give all of us a little taste of the expectations (reality) of a Spartan Race.
My awesome husband Randy decided to put a group together of willing participants for the Spartan Race happening in January 2017.

Willing is the first step, right? What are the remaining ingredients necessary?
I think we found out as we had our asses handed to us in a kindergarten level workout.

Punctuality
Focus
Responsibility
Teamwork
Positivity
Drive
Strength
Endurance

Almost everyone showed up on time.

On Time Crew — We. Are. Sparta. Wait…what have we decided to do here again?

Those that were there before 4pm seemed to be the most dialed in to the plan.

We were instructed to wear long sleeve shirts, no jewelry and shoes with traction for mud/dirt. I got 2 of the 3 straight. Wore my newest pair of road shoes because I figured we would be road running. I was partially correct.

These things all work themselves out once you get a group rolling as we’ve discovered over the last decade. Randy is an expert at creating tough workouts that you can adjust to your fitness level. This was a different animal and it became obvious we would need to practice and work hard on our own.

I’m going to describe how it went in my opinion. I’m a cautious one with my new knees but after the past few weeks of successfully getting out of my box I was going to push myself a little further.

Like the scenes in the movies Stripes and Private Benjamin, we began our running warm up from the park down Arlington and back. I’d guess all of us are over 40, most of us over 50 years old. We need to take time to lube up the joints and muscles so dynamic warmup is a no-brainer.

It was a half mile out and back. My goal was to not stop at all, which I accomplished. That gave me a little boost in my own efforts.

You know how ducks gather and pick in the grass and dirt moving a lot, quacking and somewhat excitedly bobbing their heads up and down for feed? That was us. In a circle, Randy giving us the starting information (to which a few people just weren’t even listening). In a few minutes it was time to begin as just like ducks sensing the danger of an approaching predator we were off!

The Assignment today: warm up jog, 40 tire flips, 90 Spartan Quality burpees, bucket carry twice, two times through the bear crawl, military crawl (“it’s just like Spider Push-Ups” Eric pointed out) and log roll. Did I miss something?

Well, PERSONALLY, I think I heard more moaning and groaning on the log roll than anything. I had my plan if I, too, became dizzy after that station. Just “unroll”. It worked as a kid so it better work now.

It seems that once you become an adult you forget how to do the simple things we used to do as kids; like rolling down a hill, spinning each other in chairs until we can’t see straight, running across fields of grass without being concerned of gopher holes or tree limbs.

We were 15 minutes, I’d guess, into the workout and I could not believe how far I would have to go. These were baby level challenges and I was pretty cooked. I was also concerned that I’d split my pants on the burpees and made a mental note to wear different chonies just in case that actually did happen. Spartan is no place for thong underwear.

I stopped (or was it that I was just going so slow it would be considered a full stop) to catch my breath after my 7th burpee and looked around the beehive of activity. Pretty much everyone was drenched in sweat and openly stating how tough this was. I liked hearing that I wasn’t the only one dealing with gravity and age.
Mark came up next to me to do his burpees when I got to number 20. He made it look easy, of course. Mark is in his 60’s and build like a brick shit house SOLID with muscle. I happen to know his body fat is lower than most everyone I’ve ever tested. He’s freaky strong. Here I was trying to do burpees next to Superman. I gleaned a little of his energy and his encouragement as I watched him perform his first perfect burpee. I’d been doing them wrong leaving out the HOP at the end. WTF.

I looked down at my Roxy’s Revenge shirt. I’d chosen this shirt on purpose. She is one inspirational woman I definitely could use some Roxy’s Power from. I added the hop to the remaining 9 burpees and picked up the pace a TINY bit. Mark was long done when I finished.

The stations were all booked up except for the bucket carry. I headed over trying to move quicker than before and catch my breath. It was a short distance through sand and that made it a little tougher. I got to my bucket and lifted it into my arms as instructed then surveyed the path. Through sand and up a small hill about 80 yards then back. Eric was on the return and made it look easy. I like Eric’s wit but didn’t hear any at this point. He, too, was dripping sweat carrying the bucket quickly. Strong. Man. Move. Fast.

I heard Randy behind me, “Good job Honey!” That gave me a little boost in my heart.

This is hen I realized what I was actually experiencing. This was reliving my childhood. There was always one friend that could rally and organize the fun outdoors and a pack of us would follow. It was just like that and I could see Randy having a blast (inbetween coughing fits that kept creeping in because he is dealing with bronchitis).

On my right I saw P1 and P2 working together on the tire flip and getting on each other’s nerves. Beyond the P’s was father Rajeev knocking out sloppy burpees absolutely drenched in sweat, Tina G was “bear” crawling, Dorothy was lugging a bucket, Shawna was log rolling crooked and headed out of the coned area, Bill was just lifting a bucket into his arms as though it was filled with feathers, Jaydee was just beginning the military crawl (and not that good at it). We were a combo of starting practices of the movies The Bad News Bears, Major League, Stripes and Private Benjamin.

The best part was no one was standing upright flat footed and relaxed. We were all in various states of action working at our own 110%.

Diane twisted her ankle but was there for moral support and got roped into keeping track of the assignment and along with Tracey they were encouraging (laughing) and helpful (pointing and laughing) while snapping photos of our various states of pain.

I’d just finished another round of bear crawling, army crawling and log rolling (and teaching Hilda about unrolling out of the dizzy) and headed over to the bucket carry for my second round when Diane shouted, “STOP!!!”
That was the end of the 30 minutes and Randy gathered us together again. We looked like wet cats and were breathing a little harder. I was happy to stop (officially) and laid down on the grass. Jaydee set himself up nicely in the recliner/tire.

We all looked to Randy for “what’s next!?”

“OK, that’s all on the obstacles here. We’re going to do a few more over at the school playground. We’re going to practice hopping a fence. Remember, this is a TEAM activity and that means we get each other over the fence before we move on.” We stared at him. He stared back and took off running across the grass yelling, “follow me.” Jeff was on his heels immediately and I hurried to catch up.

I’d lost the button on my pants while doing burpees and they were slipping down. I had to hold them while actually running. I contemplated how I’d get over the fence and decided to try the one-hop-right-foot-touch-push-over method and land on both feet. Mentally I reviewed how great it would look as we ran up the embankment for a turn.

Randy was there helping get us over and beyond him Jeff stood watching probably concerned at the lack of fence-scaling skills a majority of his team was displaying. He stood akimbo and eyes wide.

I approached the fence on the right scoped out my section and put both hands on it hiking my right foot up to the top…I was halfway there when I remembered my past fence-scaling disasters all had to do with my shoestring catching on the top. I slowed my butt way down which was a big mistake. The inertia was gone and I was now straddling the fence keeping my hoo-hoo above it using what strength I had left in my arms. Crap. I looked down the fence at the other Spartans. Jaydee and Eric were busy trying to assist the gals over, all of them did the same thing as me. Randy was shouting encouraging words while trying to help and capture the moment on his phone.

I took a deeper breath and heaved my leg over the rest of the way and landed heavily. I ran over to help Shawna and Tina just getting in their way of dismounting. Note to self, not everyone needs help which is comforting!
The last to approach the fence was Rupa, Rajeev, Preksha and Prerana. He’s a gentleman through and through and got his family over the fence becoming a step. Even with the step, Rupa is pretty short and it took a lot of her inner power to clear the fence. Raj got himself up and over and we headed down the hill into the school yard toward the monkey bars.

I heard Rupa say she tore her shirt. “Flesh wounds.” I thought to myself.

In the back of my mind I reviewed my apparel choices and what might be best on the big day. Definitely not shorts. Definitely not cotton. I was a little lost in my thoughts and missed the beginning of Randy’s next plan.

“…as long as you can or as many as you can. Three sets.”

We were doing pull ups or hanging. Randy had been doing all of the photo coverage and I took over so he could jump in.

The shorter campers headed over to the geometric dome. Once they all found their rung and began the hang they sincerely looked like monkeys, cute ones by the way. The sun was setting behind them and the conversation was yammering on about how unexpectedly difficult “just hanging” was.

Randy took the phone back and I began my assignment to just hang. I’ve tried doing pull ups and have yet to get one executed without assistance. I thought about that as I held on to the bar holding my feet off the ground. Counting to see how long I held on, the stinging began on my hands. 24…25…26…27 I’m out. I turned to try a different set of bars (as though that would make a difference). Jeff was across from me looking bored! How is that possible!? This was tough. He is 6’9″ so had to really lift his heels up for this to work. Since he was making it look easy, I tried holding my heels up higher but my hamstrings weren’t cooperating and I lost count cursing myself.

We’d all done our best and now it was time for the Grand Finale. The jungle-gym crossing. I got in line for my turn. Bill went before me and I watched his technique. Clearly it’d been a while since he had crossed a jungle gym and I was thankful there were no crocodiles or hot lava below. I held my breath hoping he’d get all the way across and at the 5th rung I shut my eyes because he was writhing all over the place, legs flinging left and right…it was not looking good for rung 5. With my eyes closed I heard everyone cheer prompting me to open them and exhale. Awesome.

My turn. I stepped up onto the foot rung for some reason. My arms reached way too far so I let my body drop hanging on tight trying to swing forward. It takes a bit of coordination to get the process moving and by the third rung I felt it kick in. The only problem was the skin on the inside of my hand was burning like acid had been poured on them and it took my mind off of the inertia I felt almost kick in. Three rungs from the finish I gave up and dropped. My fingers were locked in a curve and burning and I looked for Tina to commiserate.

Every one of us tried those monkey bars and I’d say we did pretty darn good for our first try.
That concluded the training, WHICH WAS AWESOME, and we headed back to the starting location to clean everything up only to discover Diane and Tracy had done it for us!!

What I completed in the initial 30 minutes
Bear/Army/Roll
Bucket Carry
30 Burpees (only 10 with a hop finish)
Tire Flip 20 times
Bucket Carry
Bear/Army/Roll
5 more Burpees

How I feel
My knees are good.Mentally I feel excited to do this with the group of people signed up.

What I learned
My army style pants were too heavy.

Pockets are a no-no. They were too snug to do burpees.

I can hang on longer than I thought possible.

I believe I can get stronger.