My other half

I know that I don't talk about my daughter that much in this space. I know she wouldn't like it. We have a rather volatile relationship which goes from deep love to violent hate, sometimes in a matter of minutes. Part of that is her personality, part is a fourteen year old's hormones, another part is her being angry at life in general. These last two years have been particularly difficult for her at school. In grades 1 - 5 I sent her to a private catholic school. No nuns or priests, it was close to home, and they were in school until 4.00 pm and no school on saturday. This as opposed to 12.30 pm at the public school with saturdays included. When it came time to select a middle school for grades 6 - 8 I gave her the choice of the public school next to our house (walking distance) or to continue on at the catholic school where I would drive her in the morning but she had to take the public bus back home. It was only a ten minute ride, but a much bigger decision. It was also a different set of teachers and administration. Most of the friends she had made in school were continuing on at the private catholic school, she doesn't like change in general, so she decided to stay there.

The problem was that she changed. My sweet little first born started becoming a strong willed, opinionated, creative soul. This probably all happened at too young of an age for her and everyone around her, which threw her teachers off completely. So it's been a rough three years.

In Italy high schools are divided into specialties. You're expected to know what you want to do at fourteen and then choose that direction in your five years of studies. They have a "classic" high school where you study greek and latin, or a "scientific" high school where you study math and science. Olivia chose an art institute, with emphasis on photography and graphics. We're very happy with this choice because not only is it where she definately has talent, but she chose this particular school THREE YEARS AGO. She already knew what she wanted.

I hope the storms that she feels around and inside of her start to cease and she can find some peace in her creativity. I love her more than anything in the world.

Gift idea!

After three trillion orders with Amazon, the other day they sent me a coupon for a free photo album book through Shutterfly.com
If you don't know what to get Dad, Husband, Boyfriend, Signficant Other or ANY father you know, go put together a photo album. It was so much fun and so so easy. I took all the pictures that I had from my trip to Memphis, picked the best and then made a book out of them with captions and some writing. Then I sent it off to my Dad. Very very cool. I'll probably use it again at Christmas or for some important occasion.

When you get something different than what you went for...

I had a great time. The first few moments were a little ackward, if only for the time factor. Seeing people you know so well that have different faces and bodies is...surprising. But then ten minutes later you're already used to them again and all is well. My sister had her usual freak out moment, which I knew would come but I didn't realise that she creates them all on her own. Mmm, gave me lots to think about. In any case, I went there for me toteing Evan along with me without realising that we were actually going for him. When we arrived there my Dad was waiting for us, having already been at my brother's for a couple of days. Evan rushed up to my Dad and yelled "Grandpa!". Unfortunately my father is a little on the non responding, unemotional side so he didn't get it. We called Piero to let him know that we'd had a safe trip and Ev announced that Grandpa had a moustache and spoke in english. He didn't have trouble understanding anybody but he kept talking in italian on the first, second and third day. The fourth day he broke out of it and started speaking complete sentences in english with everybody. A non stop talker in both languages now! I mean he just never stops talking, plus he's in the "why?" stage. He played, he shopped, he loved running around at water parks and playing with his cousins. He went in the pool every day and learned not to be afraid of the water. He was happy to go home to his "Pappy".
Yesterday he was telling me that he likes speaking in english. I told him I was very happy for him and that I was happy that he met my family. His reply: "They're my family too!"

Carramba che Sorpresa!

A few years ago the Italian State televison offered a bizarre variety show called "Carramba, che sorpresa". It was hosted by the queen of italian telly hosting, Raffaella Carrà, who through the years was able to recycle herself from showgirl to dancer and singer, on through quiz shows, and finally into variety show hostess. The word "Carramba" is a leftover from her spending some of her career in Spain and South America, definately not an Italian exclamation. The whole point of the show was to surprise someone by having them see people they hadn't seen in a long time. Ninety-nine percent of the guests were people from South America (mostly Brazil, Argentina and Venezuela) who had immigrated to Italy in the fifties and had never been back. Every week, for four endless months they would drag some lady or man onto the stage, sit them down next to Raffaella while she told their life story and how they hadn't seen their sister, cousin, brother, for the last twenty-five years. And guess what? Carramba, che sorpresa...they're here tonight!!! The format was exactly the same every week and of course I couldn't help but cry every episode. Each week I would ask myself how can they not see they're family for 25 friggin' years! Buy an airplane ticket, go for Christmas! Did they have a fight? Maybe they didn't want to see each other! Not in a million years would I ever think to find myself in a similar predicament. No, I'm not going on a variety show...

In the eighties I used to go to California at least twice a year: sometime during the summer and then for Christmas. I did a work stint at the end of the eighties for a travel agency and I'd travel four times a year to the east or west coast. After Olivia was born in the 90's I tried really hard to see at least one member of my family once a year. That would be three people. My Mom passed away when I was a child, my little brother passed away in the mid eighties so that leaves my Father who still lives in Northern California, my sister in Kauai (three children) and my older brother who now lives in Tennessee (three children).

The last time I saw my brother was in 1997. I went there for Christmas with Olivia and don't remember it as being a particularly nice visit since I was just divorced and really struggling with a lot of stuff. In 2000 I earned a good chunk of money and was able to travel to Kauai with Olivia in tow to see my sister. I still remember crying at the airport and wondering why we had scattered to opposite sides of the planet. My father came to Italy in the spring of 2001 to see me. After 9/11 he hasn't ever wanted to travel back to Europe. Me? 2001 was the year I bought my house so all my money went into that. 2002 I was pregnant for four months then miscarried, 2003 pregnant again and giving birth. Traveling to the States doesn't mean just me anymore, it means taking the family. Four airplane tickets cost 6.000,00 and it's just money I don't have to spend on travel these days. I have been back to New York for work four times, and even if it's great to be back on home turf it's still not the same as going "home".

My brother has three sons. The first, Jonathan, is graduating from high school next saturday. He's won a full scholarship (in baseball) to the University of Memphis and we are all excited for him. When I found out my father was going to the graduation I thought that I'd just have to find the money to go, even if it meant just me traveling. When my sister found out that I was coming she decided to come too and bring one of her three children. I just could not go without bringing Evan with me. I'll be eating beans for months, but my family will finally meet my son.

The last time my father, my sister, my brother and I occupied the same space was 1985. Twenty-one years. Carramba, che sorpresa!

I can't wait to see everybody (especially my sister, shhhh...). I'm getting tears in my eyes even writing about it. I won't be updating my blog until after the first of June. I'll be busy checking out Elvis's mansion and drinking American coffee. My sister-in-law has already booked me into some spinning classes and gotten me pool passes. She knows me well!

Solidarity

One thing I forgot to mention about the Tri in Viareggio: I was sick. On Saturday I was feeling achy and nauseous but I had a huge day ahead of me that went like this:

5.00am wake up

6.30am throw Evan while still in pajamas into the car and leave for Milan.

9.00am arrive in Milan, find park, meet babysitter, dress, feed and bring son to restroom. Thank the stars that Olly is self sufficient and can get to school on her own.

9.45 - 12.00 - Teach group of 20 runners.

12.00 - 13.00 - Coaching (business) session live.

13.00 - 15.00 - Find huge sports store to get last minute stuff for the race and try and control Evan who wants to buy every ball he sees in the store. Eat before leaving.

15.00 - 17.00 - Drive back home

17.00 - When I got home, waiting for me was my ex-stepmother (don't ask!) and step sister (double don't ask!!) who were visiting from Wyoming for only one evening, on their way to Switzerland. I hadn't seen Nancy (Mom) since I was pregnant with Evan and Susan since 1982! I took them to the center of town where we had a really nice walk while we talked. I was still upright but a little dizzy.

20.00 - Made dinner for everyone. Somewhere around this time Piero came home from Rome.
I ate a little but wasn't hungry, cleaned the dishes and straightened up.

22.00 - Alessia came over to pack the bikes in her car. I think I fainted on the couch (my bed occupied by guests) somewhere around 11.00 pm

The next day we got up at 5.30 am, left the house somewhere around 6.00 am. I slept for about an hour and a half in the car. At this point I just felt like I had a big cold. Why didn't I just bag the race you ask? Because I had talked my friend Alessia into doing a triathlon! In Italy this is an impossible feat since most women a) don't swim well b) don't own a racing bike c) don't have time to train for all three disciplines. When I mentioned that she too could participate in a triathlon she immediatley said yes and started training with me. She bought a new (used) bike and borrowed a wetsuit and went through all the nervous rituals that many of us go through when doubting our abilities. I could not say that I wasn't feeling well and was skipping out!

I felt fine during the race and okay for the rest of the day. Then monday morning hit and it was like I paid back all those dues...Hacking cough, flu like symptoms. Today I brought the kids to school in the morning, came back home to write but before that happened I thought I'd lie down for a minute. THREE HOURS LATER (!!!) I woke up. The positive to that is the annoying hacking cough just disappeared so maybe I needed the rest.

Sprint tri 2007 nr.1

On Sunday I raced my first tri of the season, a sprint in Viareggio. My last sprint race had been 7 years ago so I was a little nervous to do this. How bad could I have gotten in seven years?

The race started at 10.30 so I knew I'd be running under the 85°F sun at noon. 39 women at the start, more than 300 men.

I was happy to see that there were six women in my age group! (45-49)

Swim: 15'56" 750 mts

One of my "strong" points is my ability to swim a straight line. Not so much for other women!

I was going straight for the buoy and I'd get drifted by a bunch that started swimming into me

on the left. Then they'd realize that they were going off course so they start swimming to the right.

I really wanted to hit them but thought that I wouldn't make a lot of friends that way...

T1: 4'27"

Long stretch of beach to run up and then onto the far side of the transition.

Bike: 39'31" 20.22km

In sprints and Olympics drafting is legal and encouraged. What can I say? I caught a train...Pancake flat course with four hairpin curves. This is also the area where I need to work on. I used to be really fast!

T2: 1'40"

Run: 30'37" 5km

I didn't care about my time here, the only thing I really wanted to do was keep moving. It was two loops on the boardwalk and as I was coming out of t2 I watched the winners come in. I only walked once for about twenty seconds and thought to myself "why am I walking?" I passed one woman - yippee!

So I'm coming into the main stretch and I see a woman holding a rose for someone. As I passed by I asked "is that for me?" and immediately thought "It's Mother's Day...the kids didn't say or remember or..." as I'm mulling this in my mind and coming into the home stretch my little Evan, three and a half years old, squeezed in through the tapes and ran after me on the course. He took my hand and started running to the finish with me. I had to slow down to a walk 'cause his little legs go just so fast. He had this HUGE smile on his face and as we crossed the finish yelled "ABBIAMO VINTO!" (We won).

Now THAT is a Mother's Day present

Total time: 1h32'04

I had sort of predicted a 1h40' (based on NOTHING, just my cosmic psychic powers) so I'm really happy with the time and feel totally inspired to work harder on everything.

I used to live only a half hour from here so an old friend of mine Patrizia and her husband had come to watch the race. Afterwards we all went and had lunch on the boardwalk. The two hours we sat in the outdoor restaurant eating pasta with mushrooms and a chocolate gelato, with the sea breeze, friends, my family, my first tri in the bag...wow...I love life!

As American as...Tiramisù!

Today my little boy became an American citizen. I'm so proud! Now I just have to teach him the National Anthem. (Sorry about the blurry photo but he wouldn't stop wiggling).

Marathon!

In the past few years Piero's work responsabilities have changed a lot. He used to do more coaching and following the teams, but for the past two years they've put him into testing and research. He likes it a lot, especially going around and testing the athletes, helping out their coaches in understanding where, how they can improve. From a ten second taping or a glance at someone running he can tell you exactly where their defect is and what they need to do to improve. Anyway, he spends a lot of his working time in the Rome office of the Italian Athletics Association but he still has a few runners that he trains personally. Two of them are guys that he has trained since they were adolescents, Ottavio and Giacomo. They had both chosen to run the Trieste Marathon which in Italy is pretty much the last chance to run the distance for the spring season. There are two or three more races but it's just too hot to get a decent time in. As it was the tempature in Trieste was in the 80's, so it's a wonder they did well at all. Giacomo had tripped and fallen during a training session ten days before and missed out on two important workouts. Piero said he was running funny from the start of the race and eventually pulled out at 25km. Ottavio was doing okay but of course all the Africans were ahead of him with a group of eight that had surged ahead and started battling it out up front.


I was oblivious to all of this though. Evan and I had been dropped off by the organization in the Piazza Grande at 7.00 am. We went and got a coffee for me and a juice for Evan at a beautiful bar then I searched for a newstand where I bought the paper and Evan picked out a Chip & Dale magazine with a free harmonica included. When the race started we had the maxi screen to watch it on but it was so hot just standing there, I saw that Evan after only fifteen minutes into the race was already starting to fade. I took him down to the peers where there was a breeze from the water and we watched some row teams practicing. They had a mini ferris wheel that we went on, he loved that (me too!). Then we watched the marathoners as they passed by the Piazza and the half marathon finish. Evan tooted his harmonica for everybody. There were so many drop outs at this point which confirms why I hate two loop marathons. You have to be really mentally strong to keep going if you're feeling even a little bad at the half point

We positioned ourselves in front of the maxi screen again at 1h55' into the race which is exactly where Ottavio decided to make his move. He was in six place at the 38th kilometre. Apparently Piero yelled to him that the Kenyan in front of him was starting to look bad. First he passed one, then two...until he got to the last (first) and passed him at the 41st km. The whole Piazza roared as he positioned himself into first place. Winning time with heat and all: 2h10'56".

I'm always amazed at how impatient amateur runners are. Right now I'm argueing it out with this guy I train that wants to call it quits because he's not improving as fast as he would like to. I mean he is improving, he just wants more now. Ottavio is 34 years old. This is the second marathon he's won in his career. The first one he won was ten years ago. Ten years ago! And we're not counting the previous ten years. That takes a lot of persistence and patience and hard work and really believing in what you're doing. I don't know what he's going to do with his career now, but he really did have the race of a lifetime.

Ten days that changed my life

I'll do a one a day post for a week to try and catch up and then I have to take another ten day break.

Yep, it's hard to believe but my life changed in ten days. I just have a few minutes to write about it and then I have to get back to work so I'll try to condense this as much as I can. A few weeks ago I talked about feeling flat. Part of the problem was that I'd get up in the morning, cut my head off, run around for fourteen hours and then collapse at the end of the day. Usually in front of the television with some cop or lawyer show. I really felt like I had no time to do anything and that nothing was concluded. Not always of course, but on the few occasions that I was able to finish a project or work I was never satisfied. I worried about money a lot, didn't feel I could make plans because Hubby was always gone...the list just goes on and on.

I also mentioned here that I'm training a group to run NYCM. They're thirty entrepreneurs that own their own companies. The common link they have is that all of them use the service of a Coaching Service. a Business Coaching service. Everybody of course paid for me to train them for the year but the head of the coaching business asked if we could barter our services. They have a lot different course to take so I said yes but that I'd have to think about what I wanted to do. Last month I came up with what the exchange for me would be. I wanted him to help me get organized. I thought it would be something simple where he would show me that I needed to keep a schedule or something...which I do, but it went a little deeper than that.

First he had me draw a chart that I divided into eight areas of my life and draw lines where I wrote in what I wanted out of each area by the end of the year. Then he had me do a affirmation test on four areas on my life which had a points total. My strong area turned out to be in personal relations, my weak was finance. I'm shocked... Then he had me do another chart where I drew in my levels of satisfaction in the eight areas comparing 2002 to 2007. For those that don't know 2002 is also known as "The year that totally sucked" in every aspect of my life. The chart was easy to do but I was surprised that my satisfaction level since then in a lot of areas hasn't raised much.

I circled three areas out of the eight that I wanted to concentrate on: finance, work, body (mine). The first two are obvious but I need to underline that by "body" I mean sports, workouts, races, spirit.

Now that I had narrowed the three areas of concentration he had me break them down and tell him exactly what I wanted to accomplish, how I was going to go about doing that and a time frame them. All of this took hours of work until we finally got down to a one half hour phone call and we were able to condense the conversation and get to work. The first ten days I did this it really helped that Piero took Evan down to his Grandmother's for a visit. I had most of the day open (except when I did stuff with Olivia) to work on my itemized list and get myself organized.

It's just amazing how much energy I had by taking care of business that I had put on the backburner for months. Just for a reference, I am self employed. I have several companies I work for plus a regular writing gig for a magazine where I do have deadlines. The rest is all up to me. It's great because I can be available for the kids whenever, it's difficult because I need to give myself direction all the time and sometimes that is not easy. Just having a 30 minute appointment once a week with someone who asks me why I didn't get something done and when am I planning on getting it done has totally changed my life.

This is the first time in a long time that I really look forward to sitting down and working. The wheels are turning, that blah feeling is gone. Hurray!

***************************
Like I said, in the next few days I'll try and do a post a day before another break.
Highlights:

• my first tri of the season!
• Olly's going to Art School!
• New women to train with!
• My husband's athlete won a marathon!
• Evan becomes a US citizen!
• I'm seeing my family for the first time in 7 years!!!!!

Simple Requests

We bought the house we live in here in the north of Italy five years ago. We knew that we'd be staying in Modena for at least another ten years and we didn't want to keep forking over rent money to someone else, so we decided that we'd make the investment and buy. I know for American standards it's quite small, only one hundred and ten square metres, but for Italian city standards it is big. The number one thing that made us choose this house was the garden. We're situated one kilometre from the historic center of the city and even though it is in a condominium, three sides of the house is surrounded by a private garden. In April the house totally transforms itself because with the warm weather we can open all the doors up (and put the screen doors down!) and literally gain another two hundred square metres of living space. Whenever I get restless working I can just walk into our garden and relax. When it's really hot in the summer I like to get up early and have my tea on the patio table outside.In the evening I often work on my computer on the back terrace where I planted all the herbs. Neither Piero nor I are gardeners per sè, but we love to be outside. The one thing that really excited us was being able to plant our own garden. The house was brand new when we bought it so the garden was just this plot of dirt. We decided from the beginning that I was the designer and Piero was the laborer. Fair enough! I didn't really know what the heck I was doing but one thing I did have clear: the back corner of the garden, the one on the far side of the house was going to be the "scent" area. I wanted all my herbs planted on that side so that I could just go to one corner for all of my cooking needs. On the far wall ending the garden I wanted jasmine vines covering the fence.

When we bought the house we pretty much spent all of our savings and bigger than life mortage on the house itself. Plus this was that year that I was blessed with a late life, totally unexpected pregnancy, so extra cash was scarce. I opted for buying small plants that were inexpensive and tried to have faith in our gardening skills and patience with the plants growing. The jasmine bush cost about ten dollars. It wasn't very big, maybe five feet tall with two stalks coming up from the ground, but the perfume that the blossoms gave off was inebriating. I couldn't wait for it to grow!

Grow it did. Those shoots seemed to take off overnight. I coaxed them off to the left and the right and tied them onto the fence. Over the winter the plant survived and had no trouble fighting off even the coldest snowy climate. When spring came around I was all excited, anticipating the sensorial experience, but nothing happened. No buds, no blooms, no flowers.

I thought to myself that this must be how it works; the plant has to grow and the first year there will be no flowers... but wait 'til next year! Next year did come...and go. In the meantime the plant was growing. I had to cut it down to prevent it from taking over the whole back garden. I regularly chopped off the shoots that were growing outwards and on to the persimmon tree. To get it to bloom I tried giving it more water. When that didn't work I tried giving it less. I tried liquid, pellet, and organic homegrown fertilizer. Nothing, niente, nada, not even one little bloom.

Three weeks ago Piero and I were in the back gardening and he asked me what I wanted to do with the Jasmine vines. I said that I was going to give them one more year and then they were out because it had been five years now and they really had been given all the time in the world to produce some flowers with no results so far. I stepped over to the jasmine vines and said to them "I really really like having you here but if you don't produce any flowers this year I'm going to have to take you out. You have about another month and then I'll be planting photinia bushes in your place. So, make a decision here." I said this out loud and straight to the plants. Piero was watching me. No, he doesn't think I'm crazy. Besides he's seen me do these type of things before. Observing me having a one to one, serious conversation with a jasmine vine didn't phase him at all.

Today I walked outside and smelt something in the air...


I immediately called Piero on the phone. "You know that Jasmine vine?" He started laughing. I didn't even have to tell him what had happened.

No excuses!

Go read Nancy Toby's entry for today HERE and then tell me you don't have time to workout. Puts us all to shame...What a strong woman!

In limbo

I am still in training limbo. Not feeling so bad that I can't get out there and do something, not good enough to actually do any sort of structured training or (heaven forbid!) actually PUSH. Today was my last day on antibiotics and, even though I'll have to see the doctor again about my ear since I still can't hear out of it, I should start to be feeling better sometime this week. Linda sent me a phone msg this morning offering to watch Evan at the park for an hour while I ran. What a great friend! I have a new unidentified pain area in my left glute so I just 1' walk/1' ran the entire time. It did satisfy me!

I wanted to post some photos of my food obsession of the week: cooked apples. I love these and they are good and good for you!

Step One: Ingredients - big apples (I use Fuji apples) and pitted prunes. One large pan to use in the oven. Wash the apples and dig the core out of the them. Warm the oven to 325°F

Step 2: Place one prune where the apple core used to be. Place apples in the pan and fill the pan with about an inch of water. Bake in oven for one hour.

These are actually better when they're colder, but I eat them warm...or piping hot. The colder they get the sweeter they are, you choose! Variations can be using pears (those brown ones with the thick skin, can't remember the name) or sprinkling cinnamon on top. I know some people that slather them with sugar, but that sort of negates the healthy part of the whole operation. I can totally eat several of these a day. Buon appetito!

1)

Easter (cough, hack...)

What went as planned:

• Beautiful Easter weather, about 70° with floating clouds and being able to once again wear sleeveless shirts.
• Easter lunch with friends, homemade pasta with zucchini shrimp sauce, fish, fabulous potatoe/artichoke/zucchini vegetable ring, cakes and chocolate chocolate chocolate.
• Hanging out with friends, no hurries...
• The half marathon, one woman in our group that I train ran a 1h36' PR and won her age category.
  

What DIDN'T go as planned:

• Evan has been sick for about ten days now, hack coughing into my face every five minutes. It finally caught onto me. I started to lose my voice around friday. Saturday I was out of it but at that point I didn't want to call all the people I had invited over to Easter lunch and the half marathon the next day. Plus, I always think that I'm going to get better.
• Sunday night when I felt everything shift into my left ear, I knew it was over. Around 11.00 pm P took me down to the emergency room and they have me five different prescriptions, including antibiotics.
• No half marathon for me. I slept in for about 12 hours.
  

I still have another day of antibiotics and then it'll probably take another ten days to feel decent again. I obviously haven't made it back to the pool but I have gotten back on the bike. The uber gorgeous springtime weather we are having here really helps.

Yummy Easter Cupcakes

Happy Easter

This is our Easter photo from 1965. My Mom is in the middle, I'm in yellow on the right and my older sister on the left. My Mom had made all of our outfits, including her own. Check out the Jacky-O hat! My Mom was really tall, 5'11". I came out small at 5'10". We're in front of the church with my Dad taking the picture. I think she probably wanted an all girls shot, seeing as our two brothers are missing. Anyway, Happy Easter to all!

On death and dying

On Monday Olly's paternal grandfather passed away. She was of course very very sad but more importantly, this was the first human death she had ever experienced. They had the funeral yesterday so we all piled in the car at 6 a.m. for the two hour drive to Viareggio. The night before she had expressed being "scared", that she didn't know how to act or how it would be. I gave her a big hug and held her for a long time. "Don't you worry, I am the expert on death and dying, you're in good hands with me." Driving over the Appenine Mountains she asked me about my deaths. I told her about my Mother dying when I was ten and my brother dying when he was twenty-two. All my grandparents have of course passed away and one boyfriend who died rather quickly from ALS. She didn't know if she wanted to go into the church and I let her know that that was okay. My sister did not go to our mother's funeral, everybody just has a different way of dealing with a loss. There is a certain point where I had to decide what this all meant and where everybody was going and why they had been here for such a short amount of time. I told her that I didn't think that her Grandfather was any longer in that body in the church, he was definately somewhere else. Maybe near or maybe already far away. He was seventy seven when he left us so he had a long life on this earth. More importantly I was sure that wherever he was now he was no longer suffering from the cancer that had eaten his human body.
The church and cemetery where he was being buried was on a beautiful hilltop above Viareggio. It was a sunny day and you could see the light shining on the water below. Evan was still sleeping in his pajama in the back seat so I waited outside the church during the funeral ceremony. He woke up just in time for the walk from the church to the cemetery. In this small hilltop village they still have the tradition of a few unknown women inserted in the crowd that sing or recite the rosary on the way to the cemetery. Grandma Elsa, eighty seven years old, rather loudly requested that these ladies NOT attend her funeral. The cemetery was filled with plots of people that had died twenty, thirty, fifty years before. I thought about how I believed that none of those people were really present anymore. Just bones, and I don't mean that in a disrepectful way. My brother had mentioned in passing conversation just a few weeks before his death that if he ever died he wanted to be cremated. I'm glad we were able to do that for him. It really gave me the conviction that we are not our bodies, that they are just vehicles for this voyage in life.
After all was said and done we went back down to Viareggio. Olly went to spend a few hours with her Grandmother, Evan and I went to the port and beach to spend some time playing on the sand and look at the boats. This is the town where I did my very first Olympic Triathlon in 1996 and it's where I will be doing my first sprint Triathlon for the 2007 season in six weeks.
While I was playing with Evan I was imagining my swim and...imaging my swim. Didn't really think about the bike and run...I guess I'll just be happy to be in the water again. I know these two thoughts don't go together too well, funerals and triathlons, but that's kinda how the day went!

I have a favor to ask...

I've been feeling...flat. I can't really describe it otherwise. Not depressed, not excited, not emotional, just flat. I know that there is something causing this but I haven't really had the time to be quiet and figure out what is going on.

Last week I had a mini-two-hour-meltdown. I had to go to Trev1so for the weekend to work the marathon there. Piero was going to be working in Rome so I had to take Evan with me. Olly was supposed to go to her father's in Milan, but he called at the last minute to say that...he couldn't. So it was me alone having to decide how to single handedly juggle two children and my job. In that two hour window I told Piero that this was one of those days where I just want to throw the towel in. Sell the house which now has an ever growing mortage, move down south where it's cheaper living and just take care of the kids. I know in my heart that I'd last about seventeen minutes in a situation like that, but for sixteen and a half of those minutes I wouldn't have to worry about multi-tasking all my life roles. I tried to have Olly stay schoolmates house but to no avail. Then on two runs everything fell into place within 24 hours. On wednesday, without mentioning ANYTHING Linda asked me if I wanted her to come up to Treviso with me and take care of Evan while I worked. I was so touched, I mean she was giving up three days just to help me out! I accepted right away. The next day I went running with another friend and came up with my own little plan. Since there were two days that Olly wouldn't be going to school (friday she wasn't going on the school field trip and saturday the school was closed because they were going on a trip to the Vatican city) I decided that she could spend the day by herself in the house and then go sleep at Elles' house. They both loved the plan so it worked out for everyone.
I was very lucky to have Linda with me since Sunday it rained for the second half of the race and I absolutely wouldn't have known what to do with Evan if she hadn't been there. The photo above is Ev working the booth at the marathon, he's giving away pace bracelets.

So I have a favor to ask. There's this website that I read everyday, Ali Edwards.
She's trying to raise as much money as she can for her favorite charity, Autism speaks, inc. I tried to donate some money but for some reason the system won't accept foreign payments.
If one of you will donate the ten dollars, I will send you a bottle of my very favorite and expensive Aceto Balsamico. It comes in a beautiful bottle and goes on salads like syrup. It has a delicious cherry retro taste to eat. I could guzzle the stuff but that wouldn't be very ladylike. I do lick the little drip off the spout when I pour it though...that's not very ladylike either and Olly gets really mad at me when I do it. Anyway, the vinegar costs 9,10 euro plus I'll have to pay for shipping so it'll cost me another 8,00 euro to ship it to the States. The ten dollars you spend for the donation will be more than compensated by the orgasmic balsamic vinegar.

I can only afford to send ONE bottle so the first person to leave a message in the comments saying that they donated on my behalf will be the one I send the package to. I'll get in touch with you to get the address where to send it to.
Of course you can donate without the vinegar incentive!
Thanks!

different intelligence

Lately P and I have been having conversations like this:

Me: Did you get that email I sent you about Carlo M?

P: What email?

Me: I sent you an email yesterday about Carlo M, you said you would answer it for me.

P: Who's Carlo M?

Me: He's that runner from Milan...

P: (blank stare)

Me: ...thirty-fiveish, blonde hair, we did a test on him. You wrote in the test that he had a torsion problem with his feet...

P: (nothing registering)

Me: ...You know, last month when we did those tests on the Milan group. I've been training him since January...

P: Who?

Me: (starting to lose patience...) CARLO M!!

P: Who's Carlo M?

Me: THE GUY FROM MILAN THAT YOU TESTED AND WROTE THAT HE HAD A TORSION ON HIS FOOT!!! THE FAST GUY!!!!

P: Oh, you mean the first in the group?

Me: Yes...

A lightbulb had been lit, all was good. Of course he didn't remember what he had said and I had to dig the test out for him to see and then remind him four times to give me the exercise file to send...

I've never considered myself an "intelligent" person in an academic sense. I always gotten decent grades and I never failed a class. I do have one very strong point going for me however that has always served me well.

I remember everything.

I remember situations and conversations and sometimes if it's necessary I can remember mundane details like what the other person was wearing, the jewelry that had on, or what kind of furniture was in a room. I can remember as far back as when I was three years old. It's like I memorize details and surroundings and conversations and feelings. Sometimes I forget appointments and I have to have a list of things to do on a day to day basis in order to remember what I have to do, but once I've done it I can tell you in what sequence it happened and what the weather was like that day. That's why I can tell you at what time Carlo M arrived for his test and what he was wearing and those black sunglasses he had on with the baseball cap on backwards (it was green with white stripes) and how he was running and the questions he asked that day and how soon afterwards he emailed back.

P doesn't remember any of this. He can remember anybodies important PR in any distance from the 400mt to the marathon, but he has no detail for anything else. I know I'm supposed to do something with this gift of mine, I just haven't figured out what yet.

With the wind in her air...

I wouldn't have used that title, but someone did think it up for an all women's race in northern Italy. This group called me in november and asked if I would offer one of my 8 week training courses to prepare the women of Belluno for a 5km race that they were organizing. I went to the first workout in February and gave my spiel on how they had to plan their workouts, take time for themselves and all the good stuff that becomes a habit to anybody that takes care of their body with physical activity. I think this is the one and only time that the group of women grew over time (from 40 to 60 participants) rather than decreasing. They invited me to come and be guest of honor at the race yesterday, how could I refuse?

We left the house at 6.30 am and arrived in Belluno at around 9.30. The whole main piazza was full of balloons. Evan woke up from sleeping the whole trip in the back seat and the first thing he said was...

"I want a blue balloon."

I've been having trouble with my left knee for about three days now, but only when I walk. For some reason it doesn't hurt when I run but it's like I don't trust it yet. Anyway, I was afraid I was going to look like an idiot, getting injured while running (great promo for the sport!) but thankfully all was well and I felt no pain the entire run. It was and up and down and up again route all through the small town. It was really nice to just run in a new atmosphere, mountains instead of flatland. I had started out in the back so I just kept passing women that didn't know anything about pacing themselves yet, right up until the end. About a quarter of a mile to the finish I passed a group of women at a good clip and then as I was coming down the straight I could hear them coming up from behind...No way I'll let anybody pass me at the finish line! (me in black...)

I have no idea how far I ran or how fast it was but I am really happy that I had a painless run, even with the gimpy left leg. Afterwards I talked with another group of women that are from a town near Belluno that would like to organize the eight week clinic for women in their area. While I was talking to them all I could think about was being able to come to the first meeting and bringing my bike so I could get in a really great training session in the Dolomites! Can't wait!Piero was able to capture a lot of positive, powerful images for me during the morning, like this one...

...and this one...

Ev got to play with lots of pink balloons.

Reasons and Purpose

Do you read this blog? I mean, if you're reading this sentence, of course you do, what am I talking about...Sometimes I ask myself what I'm doing with a blog. None of my friends know I have one (except one), I'm not making it specific about anything: triathlon, diet, me, or whatever. So what exactly am I doing here and what do I want out of this?

I started out with the excuse of losing those last 10 lbs of pregnancy weight. Let me announce to you that 8lbs are still stuck there so I might as well just face that I am not here for that anymore.

Part of it is a huge opportunity for me to write in english. That sounds silly, but it's totally true. I know you don't know this but I'm quite an accomplished writer...in italian. It's always been that way for me. I have a bachelors in Italian literature and language from San Francisco State. I studied at the University of Florence for a year. But when I had to take the required english classes in college I squeezed out of it by taking the English Proficiency test. You walk in a room, they give you a few white sheets of paper and a subject to write about. I knew enough that I had to have a) a paragraph introduction b) two supporting paragraphs c) a conclusion. Bingo! You don't have to take a year of obligatory english.

I have now lived more years in Italy than the time I spent in the States. That would be twenty years in the States and almost twenty-seven abroad. I still love to read in english and I like to watch television in english (thank God for that language switch button they have now on the remote). I still speak english well of course, but I do have a strange accent and I started to see that I was losing my ability to write correctly...so here I am.

This has been a strange week. Not good or bad, just strange and different. I need to get back on track, need to get centered again.

Roma Ostia 2007

This weekend I ran (um, if that's how we can define it...) the Roma Ostia Half Marathon. This is still one of my favorite races even though there is a bit of disorganization. But then again, it wouldn't be an Italian racewithout it, right? Linda and I drove down to Rome on saturday morning, Evan slept the entire four hours of the drive which was really really nice. We went to the expo which was totally boring and had nothing but N1ke hype. I was able to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in a long time so that was nice.
Piero showed up (driving from the south) at about five p.m. with his little boy really excited to see him.

The next morning Linda and I went to the start with Patrizia while Piero drove straight to the finish line with Evan. We went to our meeting point where Lucy and Livia and Alessia were waiting for us. I love having a women's running circle!

Given my back situation I had 3 tiers of what I would call "satisfaction". The first was 2h06', the second was 2h10' and the third was 2h15'.

We were all in the last corral except for Livia, so she waved goodbye and set off to get a spot. The rest of us huddle together waiting for the start which came when people started to move.

Breakdown of the race:

Kms 1 - 3 - Cruising along at 6'00"/km, no problem except for all the crazies that decide to walk yet feel the need to position themselves up front. Lots of weaving in and out. I almost took some guy's shoe off when he insisted on speeding up and placing himself in front of me, and then slowing down.

Km 4 - There's a crowd on the left hand side of the road with an ambulance and police. There's a guy on the ground with a few people crying. I say a silent prayer. I later found out he was a friend of my friend Giancarlo. 48 years old, very experienced, three hour marathon runner. Worked as a nurse in a hospital. He died from a heart attack. He leaves behind a wife and three daughters. I tell myself that my ******* time doesn't matter, I am fortunate to be able to be here right now and in this moment.

Km 7 - This is where the big 1,5 km hill is. My back starts to hurt and at one point I decide that I could power walk it faster, so I do.

Km 9,8 - I have two Powergels, one tucked in my left bra side, one on the right. Take out the left side one - Strawberry-Banana! Yum!

Km 10 - They've run out of water and my mouth is all pastey and yucky. I walk for five minutes trying to scout out a water bottle that someone has thrown to the side. I score a full unopened bottle. Even though the organization should have had more water, I can see where the runners are also at fault.

Km 17 - I am never going to run a race again. I mean with my bad back, what the hell was I thinking?!

km 18 - Ostia is at the beach and this is the km where we reach the shore. The last three kms are up and back so I got to see all my friends that were ahead of me and then all my friends behind me on the way to the finish line.

Km 20 - Piero and Evan are here and take a few pics:

Finish - 2h15'10" , by the skin of my teeth!

True to a runner's word, for about an hour afterwards I thought I didn't want to ever run again. By the time we were cleaned up and driving back home (where the best boy in the world slept another four hours!) we were already planning our next half marathon on april 1st!

Routine

I have a wonderful sister that lives, literally, on the other side of the world. The last time I could afford a plane ticket to Kauai was in the year 2000 and that is the last time I saw her. We'll probably be seeing each other this spring, meeting somewhere in the middle of the USA. I remember when we were about 10 (me) and 13 (her) she used to keep a timetable on what she was to be doing at particular times. 7.00- Get up 7.05 - wash face 7.10 - brush teeth 7.13 - eat breakfast. She'd do it too! She had a timer and she would make herself do this whole routine. As the day went on it was a little more lax, an hour for television, two hours for reading, but then she had a night timetable as to what time she was to go wash her face, brush her teeth again and get in bed. She was and is a very creative person. Lots of knitting and beading and beautiful drawings and playing with colours...I was always envious of her being able to draw, which I cannot do. But she had the schedule. That kept her in line, put her in place.
I have that same need for discipline though I'm not as good at keeping it up as she was and is. I certainly like a schedule though. I write times out for myself and I love lists of things to do, but I still have a hard time being flexible when my little schedule gets thrown off.

Take this week for instance...After ten days of itching and not sleeping and trying to keep him from scratching himself, Evan is almost healed. He has a few more scabs that have to fall off his face so I want him to stay home from school until that happens. I don't want that angelic face scarred for life! Just as Evan was getting better, Piero fell sick. If his tempature goes above 100° it's like he's dying. It's been hovering around 100° for two days now. I am not complaining about having to play Florence Nightengale to everyone, I signed up for this for better or worse. But my little "routine" goes out the window. I have to write when I can, update clients charts when people are sleeping, constantly clean clean clean because four people in a small space make a mess mess mess. There is a certain point when anything I try and do gets interrupted (Mom! Do this for me!! Julia, come sit here with me...) and I go crazy. Today I put my workout stuff on and just left the house before I went nuts. Piero and Evan were napping on the couch so it seemed like a good moment. Here's what I did:

• Went and had a coffee at a bar
• Got some cash out of the ATM
• Bought some Dandelion tea to see if it would work with my water retention problem.
  
• Bought myself a new Timex Ironman Crono watch
• Bought myself some new Speedo pool flip flops (same store as watch)
  
• Went to the track and did a 15' + 10 x 500mt + 2 x 1km workout - felt good

After that I was able to go home and be pleasant to everyone. I cooked a yummy dinner (chicken and rice stir fry with ginger). I have to learn to adapt, but I secretly have to let you know that I can't wait to get back to the routine. Any routine.

Old space - new space

I discovered a new blog to read this week (Superhero!) that I liked so much I went back and read all the entries. On her website she has a really nice document on designing a creative space.
If you happen to be self employed, please read this. It really inspired me to rethink a lot of my own space and I'm proud to let you know that I've decided to redo everything. EVERYTHING.
I really feel I need an enviroment that I love to be in so that I can be more productive and creative. My space has potential so I'm excited about the project.

This is my space from the outside. It spills onto the livingroom area as the glass door can slide open all the way as it is hidden into the wall on the left.

Here it is with the sliding doors open


On the left, general Mayhem on the bookshelves.

Plenty of wasted space and general ugliness at my feet on a daily basis.

Just so you know, you're looking at it after I spent two days cleaning it all up. I hauled away 8 bags of paper, garbage and old CD's and floppy disks. My new computer doesn't even have a floppy disk slot! One of my agendas had my address book in it. It was from 2003 with a broken zipper and weighs about two pounds . I took the address pages out, added some abc pages that I had bought to supplement the already overcrowded addresses. Then I had to find a cover. Olivia used to doodle on the pages all the time so I found one where she had drawn her version of a chinese girl. I put it on a piece of cardboard, applied an acrylic gloss on top (two coats, ten minutes to dry) and Voilà - new cute handmade, makes me think of my baby girl - address book!

Just one moment

I have been able to keep up on my bi-weekly visit to the pool and so far, for the month of february, I've also been able to complete a minimum of 2,000 metres each and every session. The problem is in what I've been doing for those two thousand metres. Quite frankly, I do whatever I can. Crawl, kickboard, floating thingy between the legs, backstroke, freestyle, whatever hits me at the moment. I am very lucky to be able to swim in a 50 metre pool. I found that out two weeks ago when I was forced to go back to the 25 metre pool for one training session. It looked like a duck pond in comparison. Believe me, fifty metres up and fifty metres back goes much faster than twenty five up-down-up-down-up-down-up down! In any case I had never gotten back into being able to jump in the pool, pump out 1500 metres and be done with it. I used to do it all the time. I'd even make myself perform a monthly time trial just to see where everything was. Why am I having such a hard time convincing myself to do it now? I think part of it is fitness. After committing to the pool now for almost six month I am stronger. I have a bicep (actually two!) , I feel firmer, I like going to the pool as opposed to making myself go there. I am definately in better shape than just last month. But the thing that I am surely missing is knowing that I am doing everything correctly. While I swim I question everything. Am I putting my hand in at the proper angle? Is my elbow too high? Am I balanced or are my feet dragging? By the time I get to the other end of the fifty metres I'm a mass of unconfidence . The other day I did have a small revelation, it lasted for exactly six minutes or three hundred metres. That morning I had been reading from Terry Laughlin's "Total Immersion Swimming" where he talks about swimming like a vessel and making your body long. As I swam one length I started to get into concentrating on my stroke and making the most of it. All of the sudden I was at the side of the pool and I started to love what was happening. For another pool length I was almost laughing at how good it felt and in a mini state of Nirvana. I imagined that it felt better in the water rather than out. I remembered all those dreams where I could magically breathe underwater. It-felt-so-utterly-fantastic...and then the bubble burst and I took a break. I know what is keeping me from progressing now. It's the doubt I have in my stroke. My swimming isn't automatic anymore and that's what it has to be if I am going to be able to do any long distance swimming. SO...for the month of march I'm going to take some private lessons. I really need someone to look at me and tell me where my mistakes are right now (yep, they change) and help me correct them so I have no more doubts. I'm not looking to be perfect, just the best I can be. Mostly I'm looking to get back to that nirvana state. Those six minutes were worth six months of bad swimming.

True happiness

Anne Nicole Smith? Further proof that money does not bring happiness.

I hope she finds peace wherever she is now.

Universal Tornado

I really wanted to have the time to sit down and write out a proper entry, but so far, no extra time. There's been a lot of strange stuff going on, though I oddly feel "protected" from it all. Just need to step back, watch it happen, help out if I can but avoid getting hit by any of it. Haven't heard back from the bulimic client but I did let her know that if she needed friendship, it was here, no questions asked. There's not a lot you can do for a person that doesn't want to help themselves. I have another friend who gets deeply depressed, and this was one of her weeks. She has nothing to be depressed about and she even admits it. I told her that when she's in the depressed mode she doeesn't call friends, she doesn't go out, she doesn't run (another runner!), and doesn't make plans or meals for herself. That she has to just make herself do the same things she does when she's happy - see people, run or swim, call her friends. I know it's not that simple but you really can get yourself at least out of the rut but taking some action rather than being passive.
Two cancer cases this week, one friend with breast cancer and another with skin cancer. They'll both be operated on this week and again, it's the mind that will do a lot of the work here. The skin cancer friend is super super positive and is absolutely sure that he'll come out okay. The breast cancer friend has closed herself in her house and is worried about her hair falling out. I've never been in either situation so I can't really say what I would do, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't stop answering the phone.
The worst was a my next door neighbors Pina's sister being murdered. She had a bar (in Italy it's more like a place to get coffee) and was killed while closing up. She was given continuous blows to the head, then covered and put behind a refrigerator. Pina is a pretty strong lady, very practical so she hasn't really broken down or anything, but now she's sees crime and violence in everything. I can't blame her really. I hope the police are able to close the case for the family, the assasin seems to have left plenty of fingerprints behind. Last night I was making Lasagna for dinner so I doubled the recipe and gave it to her. I thought "if I was going through something like that I probably would not want to cook". She gave me a huge hug when I gave it to her, like I'd signed a cheque over or something.
Last but not least, Evan has come down with chicken pox. Not exactly a tragedy but it's three weeks at home trying to keep him from itching himself.


Training is going well, the least of my concerns at the moment, but any positivity helps right now.

How to help...

I got an email the other day from a woman I train. She'd done really poorly at a race last week because she was sick. In the email she sent me she confessed that she was actually bulimic and had been going through a rough few days...and that was the real problem. Today she called me to tell me that she wanted to stop running, that she was quiting. Before she called me on the phone, I was going through her email in my head for most of the day. I just kept thinking that I know very few women (and quite a few men) that do not have some sort of an issue with food. There's the one's that eat too much and then one's that don't eat enough. Being in a sports enviroment I've seen quite a few people who "race" in order to eat, or eat nothing in order to race better. Two extremes, the same problem. Now I'm certainly not a bulimic specialist or even a counselor but what I told her when she phoned was that giving up on herself was not an option. You make a mistake on Monday, you pick yourself up and try again on Tuesday, even if that means on Wednesday it happens again. If there is one thing I have learned in all the weird overeating and undereating is that the problem is not the food. The problem is somewhere else, the food is just a dulling tool to take away whatever pain you have in that moment. I gave her the number of a really good psychologist I know and made an appointment with her to go running next week. Running is not the answer to her problems, but I've always found it to be a good tool in these situations.

It make me feel sad to see how f**cked up this society can be in terms of body image and what we should all look like or what the ideal body shape is. I know so many women who strive for something that they will never be able to obtain rather than just trying to be the best that they can be. Strangely enough I find this easier to do the older I get. Maybe because I don't have to look like a twenty year old beauty queen anymore, I can just be a strong-kick-ass-going-towards-fifty year old. Now that's an image I like!

San Geminiano

Yesterday was a holiday here in the city of Modena: San Geminiano, the patron saint of the city. Besides all the schools and public offices and stores being closed there are two events that celebrate the deacon saint. The first is a fair that covers every street of the city. On San Geminiano, always the 31st of January, you can buy anything and everything from street vendors that come for the event. The second is "La Corrida" which is a 13km footrace. This was my second "b" level race for the year and I have to say I'm very pleased with myself. First of all, my back is feeling better. About four days ago I noticed that something had changed, mainly that my gimpy left leg was no longer aching. Then I looked in the mirror and noticed that my shoulders aren't slumping to the right as much as they used to. Probably a 80% improvement there. This means that I'm more in balance and am probably able to use the left leg better when I'm running. The first two kms of the race were a stroll through the market, literally. There were about 5000 participants, a lot of UNtrained people up front blocking everything. I must have walked about half of the first mile. Finally we got passed the market, center of town and onto wider streets. I ran the whole way (yay!) and around the 7th km I passed a shorter big haired lady. I think she didn't like that 'cause after about five minutes I saw her pass me again but then she gave herself away. She look back at me. HA! I'm really good at letting people go but making sure that I'm close enough to them so I don't lose them. So I let her run herself crazy for two more kms and then I concentrated on picking up my turnover. I passed her again and just kept trying to run smoothly. Mission accomplished. Again, don't know what my timing was but my HRM read between 164/169 the whole race so whatever it was, the effort was there.
The best part of the day inviting FIVE women runners over to my house for tea and cupcakes afterwards. I know y'all in the anglosaxon countries are used to it but it's taken me twenty years of running to be able to have five women friends that run and race all in the same town. I made walnut cup cakes with molasses buttercream frosting. Congratulate me that I only ate one!

This morning I swam 2000 metres which felt really good for working out any residual muscle aches. Now I just have to get back on the bike...It's always something.

Time flies...

I can't believe how fast time is flying by! It's almost the end of January and I feel like the year just began. This blogging thing is funny because I know a few people read here so if I'm absent for a while I feel like I need to apologize and say that I've been away and I've been busy...on the other hand I think "well, who really cares?" I hate to keep doing breakdowns of what I'm up to but it always seems like the easiest thing to do in order to give a little picture of what my life is at the moment.

THE POOL: I promised myself I'd be going twice a week and twice a week it is! I don't always do a lot while I'm actually in the pool, but I have the excuse that I'm working on my "technique". (Ha!). Anyway, it's doing wonders for my back so I am very happy about that. Also I have a training secret: I have a "monday" partner (Tiziana) and a "thursday" partner (Linda). It is set in stone that we meet at the pool so I have no way to back out, someone is counting on me being there. I do this also for my Sunday workouts (biking or running). It's always a good idea to have training partners that keep you on your toes.

MY TRAINING: The running is going good. Not great but good. I did my first key race of the season last sunday, a 12 km near my house. I completed it. Enough said. The swimming is going good. Not great but good. The bike is non existent and I have to change that really really fast. I went out for a 30km spin yesterday but I really should be on the bike twice a week at this point. I now declare that I will get on the bike twice a week. For all of those keeping tally that's two swims, two bikes and three runs per week. Go!

MY BUSINESS: I've doubled my clients in the last two months so I am really busy with that. Next week I have two women's running clinics that start off in an area near Treviso. I've very excited about it since this is a new area for me, meaning I've never done clinics in this area. If you want to read about my clinics in english you can go here. I just feel SO optimistic this year, I can't wait for each day to start...

MY RHYTHMS:...and in my can't wait for the day to start mood I've taken to getting up at 4.30 a.m. - It sounds freaky, but I love it. First of all I love having some time to myself in the morning. Olly is a big girl now and stays up late so I almost always have someone around. I love my alone time, need my alone time. I get up, meditate for a few minutes, make a cup of tea, then I start the day writing. The time actually flies by since I have to get the kids up at 6.30. I bring them to school then get back home at around 9.00 where I can either continue working or go train guiltlessly since I've already put in a few hours of work. The most difficult part of the day is going to bed early. It pretty much means no television but I'm okay with that. This morning Piero got up with me and then we had breakfast and some time together just talking before he took off for Rome where he will be until Friday. Anyway, if ten years ago someone had said that I'd be up at 4.30 a.m. to work I would have laughed in their face. Look at me now!