Wow.

Pink talks about doing this crazy st*ff in her Women’s Health interview.

If you missed this from last nights’ Grammy Awards (as I did), it’s worth the watch:

This one’s going into the inspiration file.

Amazing what the human body can do . . .

Dream, Interrupted

After a much-needed reprieve, I’ve been trying to figure out how to return to my blog. So I’ll start with today. I may have to back track a bit the next few weeks, to piece things together before moving onto next year.

Gram and one of her many gifts

Today I want to write about my Grandma, Mary K. Franco, who died two weeks ago at age 97.

My Grandma embodied the word ‘home’ for me. Homemaker, homemade, homecoming . . . going home.

She rocked the house-dress.

We grew up 20 miles from the little town where she and my grandfather lived. Going home for the holidays has always meant going home to see Gram.

Mary K. Franco, 1912-2009

She was born Mary K. Monago in 1912, the oldest daughter of Cesidio and Annunciata Monago. Her mother died when she was a young girl. She grew up caring for her father and siblings.

My Gram was a woman of simple needs. She lived for her husband, Alley P. Franco, her brothers and sister, three children, nine grandchildren, thirteen great-grandchildren, her lord and good food. I’m from a large Italian-Catholic family, so there was always good food and lots of it.

As a kid, I quickly learned being sick meant an early morning ride over the hill to Grandma’s house where she’d rub Vic’s Vapor Rub on my chest, wrap me in blankets and take good care of me.

When I arrived, she’d have hot tea with honey & lemon waiting. I’d get back into my PJ’s and set up on the sofa. Soon, I’d hear her chopping vegetables and the smell of chicken stock would fill the house. We’d have soup with pastina and fresh Italian bread for lunch, then settle in for As the World Turns, Guiding Light and The Price is Right. She’d do laundry or mending—but was always nearby, just in case. Before long, I’d hear the La-Z-Boy click and her soft snoring.

Grandma’s life centered on her family, her church and the community of Lewis Run, a tight pocket of Italian immigrants in Northwestern Pennsylvania. My grandfather helped build the church where they worshiped while Gram made meatball and spaghetti dinners to raise money. Grandpa’s Super8 film collection captures three decades of Franco & Monago weddings, christenings and anniversaries held at Our Mother of Perpetual Help. The first I remember was their 50th wedding anniversary when I was a teen.

Mary and Alley Franco

After she died I asked my uncle if they ever found love letters she and Grandpa had written to each other. No, he said, they were rarely apart.

My Gram had the one thing so many of us crave: time. She was rich with it and lived 97 years of good, quality uncomplicated time.

During her time on this planet, she taught those of us who knew her the meaning of faith, devotion, love, respect and fun. Bocci ball tournaments, horseshoe pitch and Easter egg hunts were always held in her backyard. What sparked her competitive fire most was a good game of Scrabble, at which she was unstoppable.

From her, the girls in my family learned to crochet, knit, sew, cook and be good mothers and aunts. She drilled into us the importance of keeping a neat and tidy home, (some took to it better than others). The guys, she taught how to recognize a good woman.

She never learned to drive or flew in an airplane, but somehow made it to all the important games, reunions, christenings and  graduations. Her frig was always stocked. There was a period where she worked at JC Penney in the mid- to late-70’s. But I never knew of her as anything other than Gram.

She grew roses and made food that left people asking for recipes, but never cooked with them.

She had a faith so strong that she seemed, at times, ethereal.

At the end of her life, Gram was filled with grace—for her family and the life she shared with us. She literally glowed. I got to spend time alone with her at Thanksgiving. I had a workout to do, but something told me I should be with her instead. She was winding down. I read her birthday cards and sang to her. I wiped her eyes for her and got her to drink water. We prayed. We flipped through the photo album my sister made of her ever-expanding family to help Gram recognize us and remember our names.

We are her life’s work.

She thanked me over and over again. I thanked her too, for everything, and held her hand.

She was a star to me. One of my favorite subjects. I took her to get her hair done for Easter Sunday in 1999, I think it was. I remember it being a great day. She giggled. She was embarrassed to be the center of attention with Kathy, her hairdresser, looking on. That’s when I started to call her Precious.

Here are some photos I’ve taken over the years. I’m so lucky to have had her in my life.

I feel I have some splainin’ to do

And I will. Promise.

But first I want to say congrats to all the track athletes on their performance at Elite Nationals last week. I watched from the cheap seats (the internet) and there was some really exciting action. New events, breakthrough performances and the first ever women’s Madison—very cool. Nice! Watching made me hungry to get back on the boards at the ADT Center.

I also want to wish my buddy Matt, aka the Bald Bomber, good luck at Masters Worlds in Sydney in a few weeks. We had our last training session today before he flies to Sydney, and the guy is F-L-Y-I-N-G. Literally. He gets on a plane tomorrow and he’s leaner, meaner and in the best form of his life. Matt Diefenbach’s his name. Watch for him.

I’m gathering years of training journals and came across some fun things I wanted to share.

From the race program for the 2004 Masters World Championships, the organizers in Manchester asked for our most admired sportsperson (very British of them). My response was:

Sir Roger Bannister: For breaking through pre-conceived ideas about what was possible.

First man to break the 4 minute mile. I had the pleasure of meeting Sir Roger while  working for Runner’s World magazine. My brother and I approached him like a couple groupies. He was a charming man. If I find the picture, I’ll post it.

Fanny Blankers-Koen:  For breaking through what was thought possible for a woman.

World record holder, Olympic gold medalist, European champion, unbelievable athlete. Her list of titles is a mile long. She won 4 Olympic Gold medals in 1948 as a married mother of two! This woman was a Goddess. I don’t think gals were even supposed to run back then, lest we faint. They called her the “Flying Housewife.”

And finally, when my husband and I started dating he used to leave or send me these notes. On April 29, 2004 he sent me one of his ‘cookies’, soon after I committed to winning a Masters World Championship that year:

One of the redeeming things about being an athlete—one of the real services we can perform—is to redefine what’s humanly possible.

We cause people to reconsider their limits, to see that what looks like a wall may really just be an obstacle in the mind.

I have to thank Sir Lance for that one. It’s particularly useful for what I’m doing.

You’re not going to puke!

I’ve been meaning to write an update on last weekends’ Girls on Track clinic. We had 10 women and 2 girls ranging in age from 11 to 54. Most of these women have never ridden a fixed gear bike, ridden on a velodrome, or pinned a number on to race, so it’s interesting to hear why people sign up.

Everyone’s game. That’s a given. Lisa was convinced she was going to puke. Donna wanted to learn about pedal mechanics. Ainhoa wanted to expand her racing repertoire. A few came because their husbands made them! Allison raced T-Town when it opened in 1976 and wanted to introduce her daughter to the track. Aleth said her neighbor Pat (Marzi) took up track cycling at age 50 and has turned into a lean, mean fighting machine! True!

We’ve got a stellar cast and crew. Aside from myself, riders were schooled by 2008 Pursuit champ Kim Geist, 2008 Points Race champ Kacey Manderfield and former mountain bike pro Stacey (Gold) Finney. Team Salamander’s Pat Marzi, Leah Flickinger from Women’s Health and USCF ref Deb Schiff helped last clinic. T-Town’s own Nancy Neely and Ben Miller from the velo office keep us straight.

It’s a blast watching these women go from learning to roll off and stop along the boards to racing 3-up Match Sprints by the end of the day. Too. Much. Fun.

Soooo, I have to share this letter . . .

. . . because it’s a great way to end the season. I don’t think Donna will mind my telling you she’s 52, and she rocked it. Maybe it’ll convince you to join us next season. It’s never too late to try something new!

Dear Liz:
I want to thank you and the other coaches and helpers for giving us all a unique, memorable, worthwhile and purely fun experience at the Girls on Track Clinic.  Two days later, and I’m still smiling -  I can’t remember an equivalent serving of joy in my life since I was a child.  Like some others in the group, I had my (self-) doubts and questions about what I was getting into, but your organization and professionalism quickly put them to rest.  I was very impressed at your skill in instantly learning names, assessing skills, and constantly checking in with how each individual was feeling.  It’s almost as if there was a Liz there for each of us –watching, helping and cheering us on.

I thought the program was very well structured and though the hours flew by even faster than Ainhoa sprinting out of my slipstream, I felt I got a real taste of the fundamentals.  I’m enthusiastically recommending it to my friends and riding partners, and I only wish I could do it all again next week.

Most of all, it was inspiring to be around women athletes, both accomplished professionals and amateurs in the truest sense of the word – people who love what they’re doing and generously share the joy of it.  I was in high school when Title IX was passed, and in my graduating class there were only one or two young women who were serious about sports (and this was in San Diego!).  While I’ve been happy to see the culture change in the years since, it was only six years ago – when I found cycling – that I began to realize for myself the beauty, power and pleasure of participating in sport, not just spectating.

I’m extremely grateful to have been able to push beyond my comfort zone within this committed, supportive and encouraging group, and at a facility the caliber of the Valley Preferred Cycling Center. I’m sure you (and the rest of the organization) understand the value of this, and I hope you’re able to keep doing it, and more often!

Best regards,
Donna