Countdown to Triathlon - 244 Days, 34.85 weeks to Race Day (See Installment 27 of "The Journey", 220 mile bike ride, below)

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY -

My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?--Bob Hope

I have really noticed this year how different the average person in the stores are behaving.  It has probably been the same every year, but maybe I was too busy to notice.  It seems that everyone, shoppers and clerks alike are kinder, gentler, more generous with smiles and Christmas greetings.  I spoke with a clerk in Macy's the other night and he said he'd really lost weight last week and it would be worse this last week before Christmas.  I asked him if most people were nice and he said about half were really mean.  That truly did amaze me as I have not witnessed that attitude, but then I'm not out in the stores much.  I do the majority of my shopping all year or online.  I asked him, "How mean?" and he replied, "Really mean."  Let us hope that we never behave that way at Christmas or any time.

My Mom took Bob and I too her club last night for a delicious dinner for my birthday.  The club was beautifully decorated and there were four people dressed as old time carollers who went from table to table singing Christmas carols to the diners.  Here are some real live Christmas carollers.  The picture is not too great as it was not very light in the room and I had to use my cell phone.  The lady on the left had a tiny mouse pinned to her muff and said it was her "Christmouse".

Her muff, she said, was cut down and made from her grandmother's mink stole so her grandmother is with her every time she dresses as a caroller.

My Mom June

Me (not a very good angle)




My Sweet Ol' Bob

 

Poor Cindy. I've left her running in place in New York City for a whole week while I went on to other things.  She said she will try to email me another installment of her thoughts of the race so hopefully that will be in the blog tomorrow.  Today, we will continue with Lynda's last part of her story.

Thank you Lynda for sharing this very emotional story with all of us.

The Journey - Installment Twenty-Seven

(Lynda's story as told by Lynda - continued)

Shortly after 9:00AM, I heard people on the street screaming louder than they had screamed before and realized it was something very bad--worse than what already was going on.  It was the second plane heading towards the south tower.  I did not see that plane, but turned around just as it hit the south tower.   I was about three blocks away and felt the heat of the massive explosion.  At that point, all hell broke loose and people started running.  In all of the mayhem, someone stepped on the back of my sandal and ripped it, but I was still able to walk in it.  My co-worker Ken and I arrived at his friend's apartment.  She had just gotten out of the shower and wondered why we were there.  We must have been a sight.  We turned on the TV and watched the buildings collapse.  Watching the TV that morning was the first time I saw the planes, too.  Since I didn't have my cell phone, I was able to make four calls from the apartment.  The first was to home and I awoke my Mom and immediately said, "I'm okay."  She had no idea what was going on so I told her to turn on the TV and to know that I'm okay and that I had to go.  I also called a friend of mine in LA and told her to let everyone know I was okay.  I then called information to try and get the number of a friend's boyfriend who lived nearby.  Three other friends of mine worked downtown, near the WTC, so I figured they were all meeting there.  Luckily, he was listed and I was able to get through.  A friend answered the phone when I called and I said I was heading over.  I said goodbye to Ken and his friend and walked to my friend's boyfriend's apartment in the West Village.  We decided that we'd meet there then head uptown to my apartment.  On the walk over to his place, my shoe broke so I threw my shoes away and walked to rest of the way barefoot.  When I met up with my friends, one of them had a gym bag with a pair of tennis shoes in it so I didn't have to walk the 60 or so blocks up to my place on the upper west side barefoot.  My landlord was home and opened my apartment for me.  I spent the rest of the day/night at home.  My friends continued north to yet another friend's place, but I was exhausted and wanted to stay put at home.  I saw my building, number 7, collapse on TV at about 5 or 6PM that night.  Both of my roommates were out of town so another friend came over and spent the night with me.  The day before, on Sept. 10th, I mailed a package to my sister from work that was then postmarked on September 11th.  She still has that package.  About a month later, I met my husband Peter through one of my Citibank co-workers.  So, yes, this story has a happy ending (for me) .