Influence, Olympic Style

The speed skating season has started and I feel like it is my first year all over again.

After watching Bonnie Blair skate long track in the Lillehammer Olympics, I turned to my friends and said “I’m going to do that.” They all scoffed, but I didn’t care. This sport intrigued me and it looked fun. It took 8 years and a couple of moves across state lines before I laced up my first pair of speed skates; it was a day I found my passion.

The Winter Games were being held in Salt Lake City. It was the first time I had seen short track speedskating. It was fast, crazy and exciting to see. I was painting my dining room while watching Apolo Anton Ohno slide across the finish line, boot first. Later, I would have to do a few touch ups to the walls and viewers were finding out that he had cut his leg in the process and would need stitches. Wow. Intense. The next week I did some homework and found two clubs in my area that offered short track speed skating.

A local community college was the host to one of the clubs and I gathered the courage to pack my gym bag with the essentials the very nice man on the phone told me I should have. I needed long pants, long sleeved shirt, a helmet and gloves. I walked into the ice rink and found the person I spoke to on the phone. His name was Howard Ganong and he helped me get set up with a pair of “club skates”, very basic Zandstra skates that look like big plastic hockey skate boots with long blades. I stepped on the ice and could barely stand! I had skated as a kid on the ponds out back and at rinks here and there, but it had been a good 25 years since I had been on ice.

There was another fellow that was trying this sport for the first time as well. He was very chatty and gravitated to a person on the ice with official looking fleece. He was asking a bazillion questions and was basically screaming “Look at me! Look at me!” I stuck to the outside of the rink, as close to the wall as I could get in case I lost my balance, (which felt would happen at any given moment) and would have something to grab onto. The fleece guy skated over and asked if I could skate in toward the middle more so that the other skaters could skate laps. He then followed the single file line of skaters as they zoomed around the rink offering tips here and there. Ahh, the fleece guy was the coach.

Practice lasted a little over an hour and before all exited the ice, groups were standing together proudly holding trophies. Skaters had just competed at a local meet and were showing off their hardware. The club then posed for a group photo. They waved the new guy and I to join the group and I felt a little out of place, since I could barely stand on my skates let alone be considered part of a skating club. But they insisted and welcomed us “newbies” as part of the skating family photo. I looked over my shoulder and saw that the fleece guy/coach was standing beside me and I decided to ask him a question before “Chatty Kathy” could grab his ear again. I introduced myself and shook hands with Paul Marchese. I asked him how long it usually takes to learn this sport. He laughed and said “a lifetime.” He also added that coming off an Olympic year, clubs tend to get a surge of people that want to try it but after a few times out on the ice, interest dies out for most and only a few remain. He encouraged me to stick it out and keep trying. Then with a little point of the finger toward the question man, he said “he will not be around long.” At the time I thought how do you know that? But, he was right.

Practice ended and when I stepped off the ice I learned that this was the last club skate of the season. Oh, man! I just tried it and now it was over! Howard came over to me and shared that many of the skaters went to a local rink to skate during the week and if I wanted to practice I could try making it to one of the sessions. I thanked him for the information and said goodbye to everyone. I remember getting in my car and smiling the whole way home. I walked in the house and bombarded my husband with all the details. I was jumping out of my skin with excitement and could not wait to get back on the ice!

My husband and I took a ride up to Lake Placid to buy my first pair of skating boots; Bont Sharkies. They were awful. They hurt my feet from the moment I bought them, but I didn’t know any better. I thought this is how they were supposed to feel. I also bought a helmet, a neck guard and other miscellaneous things. Now I felt like a speedskater.

That spring into summer I skated almost every single day. It took me two months before I could do a decent cross-over through the turn. Howard and a handful of other skaters graciously shared their expertise and patience as I learned. Each session would bring new challenges and many falls but most importantly, fun. I felt a sense of community and was amazed by the openness and the ease of friendships that I still share to this day.

I did continue to skate. I have gone through 3 pairs of boots, the final keepers being Marchese boots that fit like a dream. I have skated all over the US and Canada. I’ve even competed nationally in both short track and long track. Some seasons have been better than others.

Eight years later, I am set to begin a new season. My goal this year is to make it to Nationals after a two year absence. It’s been a long road back. After a summer of focused training I stepped onto the ice last week to get a workout in and I was amazed at how great I felt. I definitely took note that I was cranking out some major laps for this two hour period and how I have never felt this strong at the beginning of any season.

It seems the Olympic years do draw in a certain skater. What draw does it have on this skater?

Lillehammer inspired me.
Salt Lake City excited me.
Vancouver conditioned me.

This is going to be a good year. I can feel it.

The Ice Pirate Returns….Arrrghh

It has been months since blades have touched the ice. I have missed ye.

Me love of the sea is that of a frozen nature. I be the Ice Pirate. I like me ice smooth and cold and I be havin' no ruts to make me corners rough and hard. I have been stranded for months, six to be exact, from my frozen love and when it come time for me to finally set sail on my swashbuckling blades, I be faced with the worst thing to touch me frozen beauty; a bloke with hockey blades. In ten minutes time he crossed me frozen pond, zig-zaggin’ from one end to the other, scraping his feet and makin’ ruts in me jewel. Aye, a pirate such as me self takes pride in me ocean and gave the soon be prisoner a choice; get off me ice or walk the boards.

Aye, the young lad chose wisely and made his exit quick, but not before he was warned of trying his next passage across me frozen sea.

Me time resumed sailing on me beloved. How me missed the sweet cool breeze.

Yo-ho, Yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me.

Reenactment Day

Today was a good day. Actually, today was a GREAT day. It was probably one of the best rides this whole season and I feel a sense of accomplishment for completing a goal set only weeks ago.

In a recent post The Three Loop Cure, I mentioned a goal that my friend Alison and I set for the month of September; to ride 4 loops of the Saratoga Battlefield. Last week, we suffered through three laps and were completely toast when finished. I don’t know if we started too early, if our diet wasn’t up to par or if we rode it too hard, but we really struggled on the last lap and paid for it later.

What a difference a week makes!

Have you ever had one of those days where everything just “clicks”? You feel incredibly awesome during training, your races are going just as you want them to, or your game is just “on”? This was my experience today.

We arrived a little later for this week’s ride because it is getting pretty darn chilly in the mornings. Even the two hour delay to let the sun warm up the air, and an extra layer didn’t really work so well. Starting out on the first loop my teeth were chattering so hard! My fingers were numb, my feet were cold and a “Holy S***! It’s cold” flew out between chatters. I threw it in the biggest gear I had and worked it just to warm up my body. When we hit the first hill crest, I stopped to take a picture of the view I love on this ride. As I was taking a few shots, I hear “Hey, can I get in one?!” It is Denis, a friend of ours that my husband and I have been trying to get together with for a ride all summer, but our schedules never worked out. I was so glad to see him and motioned that my husband was already down the hill. He rolled off and I followed after placing the camera back in my shirt pocket. Denis ended up riding the entire ride with us and I’m so happy he did!

One of the reasons I brought the camera along for this ride was because the Battlefield was having a Reenactment Day. I thought it would be cool to capture some of the sights as we rode past. I’ve lived near this area for most of my life and I have never been to one of these events. All this time and I haven’t appreciated it until today.

Here are some photos of cannon loading, a guide and the British camp set up.














We continued through the first lap and up “the hill” and it was still cold. We made our right hand turn to climb to the parking lot. Our muscles were a little sore but I believe it was due to the cold and nothing more.

We reached the parking lot, had some Gu and water and were off for loop two. This lap was a bit warmer that the first but the wind was still biting. We started to notice more car traffic stopping at the different camp sites. Folks were learning what the Revolutionary soldiers did to prepare for battle on these vast grounds. This lap we came to a point in the ride which always makes me chuckle. I shared with Alison that every time we come up this incline and are greeted by this cannon, I always think “Ker-plow!, You’re done.” Our conversation then turns to 6-shot vs. 12-shot cannons. I ask what the difference is. It’s the size of ball that is loaded in the cannon. Hmm, you learn something new every day.



We also ran into a stretch of wildlife gone… well, wild! Chipmunks were darting across the road and barley missing our tires. Denis had a very close brush with a doe that decided it was time to run to a different field for grazing while bounding right in front of him. Alison’s friend Rich had a dragon fly hit his face and stuck to his cheek for a few seconds before flying off. I had a bee or fly (I’m guessing a fly, because I was not stung) fly right into the vent of my helmet and buzz around. I thought “that’s mathematically impossible!” as I screeched to a halt and unclipped my helmet and pulled out my ponytail. After shaking my hand through my hair and satisfied that whatever flew in was now gone, I pulled my hair back and put my helmet back in place. We soon turned right and were heading back to the lot. For some reason, this stretch of the course that always seems to be such a bear wasn’t so bad. I wasn’t tired like last week. And it seemed, if possible, shorter!

The group was feeling good. I was feeling good. It was time to roll for loop number three. We wind our way through the course and catch glimpses of more and more folks near certain encampments. Cars are now starting to stretch down the inclines and I notice that many have out of state plates. Since this is a one-way road, I thought it good to stay aware of how busy it was getting and noticed on this loop, we were all taking turns yelling “car-back”. Hopefully the out-of-towners will continue to take it slow and keep traffic one-way!

When we turned right, I knew I was ready for lap four. I could feel it. I still felt fresh and strong. No struggle what-so-ever on this loop. It felt like I could ride forever. We make it to the lot and freshen up the water bottles. Questions abound- We doing 4? Yes! This will be our cool down lap and I will break out my camera to take pictures.






We start the ride and are finally greeted with a warm breeze. It is a STELLAR fall day. We reach the crest where 3 laps before we picked up Denis. Here, Alison and I stop and chat with a fellow from Massachusetts who is part of the Reenactment Day festivities. We take his picture and ask about his uniform. He is considered a soldier from the New England Regimen based on the white outlining of his uniform. He also explains that his coat tails are short and turned up, which signified that he was part of the Calvary. We thank him for his time and roll off down the hill. As we climb the next hill, we see activity just over the hill top. Soldiers are near a cannon and holding long sticks. Alison and I stop again to take out our cameras, not wanting to miss another great photo op. The men would have nothing of it, waving arms and yelled “Keep going! Don’t stop! Keep MOOOOVING!” Ok! You got it. You are the one with the big gun! So we ride on. Not three seconds later; BOOM! BOOM! The cannon fires and scared the crap out of us. I asked Alison, “Now wait just a minute! Did they see the whites of our eyes?”

This lap was a nice leisurely ride, full of conversation and picture taking. We are always working so hard on this ride that we never seem to take the time to stop and actually look at all the wonderful scenery. I had no idea that from one of the stops you can see the Hudson River. It’s pretty nice from up here. The hill did hurt this time around. I won’t lie. The real test would be the right-hand turn just up ahead.










We turn right and the legs are starting to feel tired but still feel pretty darn good. On the first roller, I stood up and it scorched my legs. I felt the left quad start to tighten up. I thought ok…just spin it out. We got closer to the end. I still have some gas in the tank. Nice! I click a gear, then another. I pass my husband and just keep my head down. He fights for my wheel and I hear him say “Hon, what are you doin’ to me? I can’t hang at this pace.” I answered with “I just want to get done. My leg is starting to cramp.” I spin a little harder. Could I finish this ride AHEAD of my husband?? I almost became giddy. He passed me on the last hill. I stood out of my saddle and tried to catch him but he pulled too far ahead for me to answer it. I still feel good and will get him next time!

High fives were shared along with some tasty banana bread. We did it. We reached our goal. Instead of lunch to celebrate, we decide to go to dinner during the week instead. Today, however, the couch beckons to be kept company while the football games play and we all gladly oblige.

You Know You Are 40+ When....

This is the question I pose to you today!

My addition:

...I noticed I had to start stretching my arms far from my face hoping that the small print I was trying to read would magically come into focus.

Wicked Good

This term describes many, many things. Today it’s all about my slippers.

My favorite season of the year is fall. I love everything about it; the warm earthy reds, yellows and oranges that are painted along the landscape and spattered in the changing leaves of the trees, the cool crisp air that is perfect for donning a sweatshirt to keep you warm, the smell of apples and cinnamon and candy corn. It’s time for soup to simmer on the stove and greet you on your return from the local football game.

As a kid I enjoyed crunching dried leaves with a big stomp. The good ones always sound like a whole bag of potato chips being crunched. I still like to do that, especially with my kids. It looks like a perfectly choreographed stomping dance as our quick feet try to get the dried brown leaf skipping by on the breeze. They seem to dance better than me these days and always catch the “chips”.

When the kids were small, I found that catalog shopping was the easiest and best thing around. Internet was just coming into its own. I remember a segment on the Today Show with Katie Couric and Bryant Gumble with Katie trying to spit out “www dot address dot com. Boy is that a mouthful!” There was no Internet shopping yet. It was still the old fashioned way of calling the 800 number and providing the item number and your credit card, to a LIVE person, I might add. Three to five days later, your merchandise would be delivered.

One fall day, I had enough of my feet being cold. Our house had hardwood floors and being a very old home, was on the drafty side. I wore socks ALL the time. On this day, I grabbed the LL Bean catalog from the recently delivered mail and started to look at the slipper section. I came to a page that had “Wicked Good Slippers”. I read the description and caught the price- $70.00! Like I said, I had enough and picked up the phone and ordered a pair. My husband freaked when he heard I paid that kind of money for a pair of slippers. Since my birthday is in the fall, I considered it close enough to justify it as a present.

Three days later my parcel arrived. I could not wait to open the box and slip my feet into these soft, warm, cozy, shearling fleece footwear that would envelop my foot on cold mornings. That’s what the description said and that is what I expected when I put them on. I was not disappointed. These things WERE WICKED GOOD! I wore them constantly and my feet were never cold again! I ended up owning this particular pair for over 10 years! I definitely got my money’s worth, that’s for sure.

As I am definitely a woman of function over fashion, I would bring my WG’s in a plastic bag to neighbors’ houses so that my feet would not be cold after removing my shoes. I would get a few chuckles over this, but I started to notice that when neighbors started to get together, I was seeing more and more plastic shopping bags under their arms containing warm footwear!

Two years ago, under the Christmas tree, I opened a familiar brown box and inside was a brand new pair of Wicked Good slippers. I think my family was sick of looking at my old decrepit friends who were worn down to the sheepskin with no warm fleece left. Or maybe they were starting to get embarrassed by what was coming out of my plastic bag. Either way, they are making sure that my feet stay toasty.

I know fall is officially here, because today I took my WG’s out of the closet and slipped them on. They will now be my constant companions until the tulips break through the ground in the spring.

The leaves are still morphing into their beautiful hues and not too many are on the ground just yet. But when you see them, dance the dance and I hope you land a “Wicked Good” crunchy one!

The Three Loop Cure

I woke up today in a very cranky mood. I did not sleep well and even after downing my cup of coffee, my mood remained the same. I was hoping that my bike ride, which was happening in an hour, would get me in a better state of mind and I believe my husband was wishing the same thing.

My friend Alison & I set a mini-goal for ourselves for the month of September. We decided that each week we would tack on an extra loop to our Battlefield ride and when we hit 4 loops, we will treat ourselves to a fine lunch.

One of my personal goals this summer was to not use my “Granny” gear. I have a 3-ring set on my bike, which means I have a big chain ring for high gears, a middle ring for cadence and a small gear that is the easiest gearing (aka-granny) and can be used on hills. I seem to use this gear a lot in the beginning of the season to go up any hill because my legs are not used to the climbing. One frustrating thing this season is that I cannot move my chain into my big ring. Something is wrong with my derailleur and I have been stuck in my middle ring all season long. The bright side to this is that I have learned to spin extremely well, but I so want to know what I am capable of in my big ring. I can throw a pretty good hammer down right now. Imagine how fast I could go if I could get in my big ring. Ahhh, something to look forward to for next season I guess. Ok, I got sidetracked there for a moment. So, my goal for my rides as of late is to not use my “granny” gear on ANY hill. I have been true to this for about two months, but today I would be tested.

This ride is short in distance (only an 11 mile loop), but very challenging. Cyclists often call small inclines “rollers”. They’re not quite a hill, usually short and just high and long enough that you can maintain your current speed with a few clicks of gears if need be. This course is loaded with them. Some more snotty than others and more than a few, I guess you could say, are actually hills. The only time your body is allowed to recover is on the slight downhill from the crest of each “roller” or an actual decent from a hill. The road ahead may look flat, but don’t be fooled, it’s a constant incline. It’s the perfect ride for testing your strength both physically and mentally.

My husband has come along for the second week in a row and I am glad. Alison & I both agree that he pushes us, especially when we really need it.

Our ride started out fine. I noticed that we were the only riders on the course this early and we rode past what seemed to be an unusually high number of runners. We shared our greetings of “good morning’s” and “hello’s”. We were soon near the second roller/hill and my favorite spot on this course. You climb past a monument to the left and to the right and when you get to the top of the hill you crest and see this vast mountain landscape in the distance. The view is awesome and I never get tired of it. We make it through half the course and are preparing for “The Hill” on the course. It’s steep enough that it hurts and also makes me practice getting out of my saddle to climb. My husband rolls up beside me and says “you seem very focused today.” I am. I know I have 2 more laps to go and I don’t want to ride too hard because I will be toast. I’m trying my best to keep my pace around 16-18mph, any faster and I’ll be in trouble later and my mood is still cranky. We make it up the hill (no granny for me, either!), I feel pretty good and so does Alison.
We have a steep downhill, a sharp right turn and we are faced with the true beast of this ride. It is a long slow 2 mile climb back to the parking lot.

We began our second loop. A quick shot of Gu and healthy drink of water and we felt great. Muscles were warm and my mood was finally turning around. We rode this lap a little harder than the first. I decided that I was going to try to hang on my husband’s wheel for as long as I could while climbing the hill. I shocked myself after matching his cadence and climb. He stood, I stood. He clicked gears, I clicked gears. I made it ¾ of the way up and he was gone and I sat. I was so excited to have done that! And in the middle ring! When we all met at the top I was so excited- then I learn that he climbed in his BIG ring! Nice!

We made our turn for the last climb and our legs were feeling it now. I stayed side by side with Alison so that we could encourage each other to finish this climb. At the top, she said she wasn’t sure she could do another loop. I told her she can. It’s just one more than two.

The third loop was hard. I was tired. Alison said she was tired too. A cyclist passed us going the opposite direction and would soon make his way through the roundabout we just rode through and be behind us. This thought was making my husband’s legs twitch. Alison and I both said, “Go get him” and set my husband loose to get a head start to be the cyclist’s carrot. The rider caught up to us on the next hill and blew by us like nothing. His legs were fresh and ours were burning. I tried to stay in his slip stream for as long as I could because he smelled so good- like a big bottle of Coppertone! Alison and I both agreed we loved that smell. Both my husband and the cyclist guy were soon out of sight and the girls rode the rest of the ride together. We clawed our way up the hill, both of us agreeing that the last climb hurt. Before we knew it, we were turning right.

When you are near the end of anything in training or racing, I believe it is always the test of one’s self. The last lap of your 1500m speedskating race is painful, the last ½ mile of a running road race is painful, the last 30 seconds of a dryland exercise is excruciating. You know it will end- you can see the end- but your mind is screaming stop the pain but your heart is saying-No! We must finish strong! Your body is listening to your brain, but is in love with your heart and keeps going, trying to fool your brain for just a little longer to make it to the end. Maybe it’s where the phrase “A heart of a champion” comes from.

Alison and I always groan when we make that right hand turn because we are tested by our mind and our hearts. Who will be the victor today? The first test we passed. The second test we passed. The third test we were struggling. The first tiny roller and Alison said “I’m out of gears.”, meaning she could not get into an easier gear. I said “Me too.” And here is where the brain tried to trick my heart. I still had granny I could go to. I thought, “I don’t think I can make it. I think I’m making a granny visit today”. But then I said “No. It’s a tiny hill and you CAN do it.” Middle ring prevails. We struggle through. Then the sign that marks just a little bit farther and the pain of the climb will end. Again I’m tested. Granny flashed through my mind again. No. I can do this. I look over my shoulder and Alison is in her own battle as well. I see the parking lot and yell back to her “You Rock!” We completed our goal for today of three loops. Hearts were victorious!

My face is gritty with crystallized salt. I am completely spent, but my mood is now happy.

A Visit Home

Our second week of vacation brought us to the familiar sights of Pittsburgh, PA. I remember the first time I came to visit this city with my husband. I was nervous because I was meeting his extended family for the first time. I am Italian, Irish, German and Polish and grew up with getting in a car to travel for short family visits. My husband is all Italian and his family is extremely close. Weekly Sunday dinners, cook-outs or just coffee and dessert, had a table-full of food, family and friends with chairs added for each welcomed guest that would be waved to join everyone at the table. It was loud, it had hands moving, but best of all, it had laughter and stories.

As this is my husband’s home turf and most of his family has remained here, we visit at least once a year. Each time we arrive, we have our standard things to do; ride the incline, visit Station Square, walk through “tahn” (town for those that don’t speak Pittburgh-ese), walk along Grandview Avenue for awesome city viewing, just to name a few. What we really like to do is explore and find things that are new or have changed.

Last summer my husband was preparing for a climb of Mt. Whitney. He walked and hiked everywhere and being in the city did not change his training at all. Actually, Pittsburgh is extremely hilly and suited his training well. He had some mileage planned on his walks with his day pack loaded with water bottles for weight. I decided to join him as this was perfect for me at the time. I was rehabbing a very nasty knee injury that I obtained from a skating camp a few weeks earlier. During this 10 mile hike, we found something new. An old steel mill was converted into a very nice community; housing, parking and shops.








This summer we decided to go back to this area in South Side, this time via car. My husband heard that a new Hofbrauhaus had opened, one of only three located in the United States (the other two are in Las Vegas and Newport, KY). The original is located in Munich, Germany and is home to some tasty beer. We bellied up to the bar and chatted with the bartender. Nice guy that was from Maryland and moved to Pittsburgh with his wife a few years earlier. The beer was fantastic, the plate of brats that we split was so incredibly delicious and conversation was very comfortable. My husband and I both agreed that if we lived anywhere near this place we would become fixtures like Norm Peterson & Cliff Clavin.




We also explored the new casino that just opened, Jerome Bettis’ (aka “The Bus”) restaurant, which I might add, was where I had THE BEST turkey burger ever and discovered a new hole-in-the- wall sports bar close to home.











One constant that will always be a part of our trip to Pittsburgh is going to the Strip District. This place is always bustling with locals and tourists, but is home of fresh produce at ridiculous prices, street vendors that are selling items from biscotti to everything Steelers, Pirates or Penguins and the Andy Warhol Museum (which still needs a walk-through). We stop here every weekend to sit outside and enjoy a perfect cappuccino at La Prima and again, a table full of food, coffee and conversation. We make our way to Pennsylvania Macaroni Co. to load up on cheese and olives. I wish we had a market like this near us; I would be a constant shopper.

Our week here was the perfect ending to our vacation. We explored new places, met new faces and relaxed in the familiar.

Over the Hills and Through the Woods

It was sad to leave Virginia Beach. We had such a good time playing in the sand and reconnecting with family. We had another 8-plus hour car ride to share our favorite stories from the past week and to get ready for our arrival in Pittsburgh, our second half of a two week vacation.

As we began our trip, it was pouring rain. It was hard to continue my photo-journal through this kind of weather. After an hour or so, we drove out of the storm and had sunny skies for the rest of our trip and I clicked away as the world passed by out my window.

We soon had to make a stop to stretch the legs and get some breakfast. We were in the western part of the state by now and about an hour away from West Virginia. We pulled off the highway to head to the nearest McD’s and drove through a very foo-foo part of town. Nice hotels, nice landscaping and over the crest of the hill, we drove through car-dealer alley. Both sides of the road were flanked with car dealers offering Lexus, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche, Land Rover; you get the picture. We pulled into the McD’s parking lot. The building was nice outside, brick with brown rooftop, however, when you walked through the door, the only thing reminding you it was a McDonald's was the smell of the food. This was by far the nicest fast food place I had ever been in. Wooden tables, flat screen TV’s, a fireplace and a conference room. Where the heck am I? Then the Twilight Zone experience happened. All the clientele, excluding the staff, had one tooth. That’s right, one. An order would be put in, the cashier would say thank you with a smile and the customer would turn around with a grin showing off the one tooth protruding out of the top gum area. Alrighty, then. Apparently, this part of town is catering to professions that do not include orthodontic backgrounds. So Bizarre!

Back to the highway we went and made our way to West Virginia. This is the first time I have driven through this state. Unfortunately, the battery in the camera went kaput and I was only able to soak in the beauty through my eyes. Wouldn’t it be cool if your eyes were a camera and you could capture what you see on film? Maybe someday. We made our way through the Shenandoah & Allegheny National Forests and the scenery was breathtaking. Our car was soon filled with occupants that were turning a bit green from car sickness. The switchbacks on the mountains were quite extreme with some of them almost having the road fold on top of itself like a squished “U”. Just when we thought we were clear, the GPS would show what was ahead and a collective groan would be heard. We all decided that this would be the first and last time we would travel this route!

The Pennsylvania border arrived and also the cell phone signal. My phone began to buzz as messages were being received. A few of these were from my in-laws who were wondering when we would get there and what we would like to eat. That’s when I closed my eyes and a small smile graced my face. The thought of the smell of my mother-in-law’s Italian kitchen filled my senses. It’s the smell of sauce, garlic, bread, cheese, olives, cake and coffee all mixed together. It’s very hard to explain in words, but it is like no other and when I walk through the door, my stomach knows it will be eating extremely well for the duration of my visit and starts to growl.

I can’t wait to walk through the door, receive warm hugs and kisses and sit around the table sharing stories. This is the place where I experience “Soul Food”. I mean that in a way that touches so many levels. I’m nourished in body, but I am nourished in heart as well.