Robin Chartier – Page 78

Cross notFit

I should have learned by now that saying, “I will never” practically guarantees that I will end up doing that exact thing. So let me use this phenomenon to my advantage: “I will never be a published author,” “I will never have a million dollars,” and “I will never have a house with a yard and vegetable garden and free-roaming chickens.” I think that should cover it.

Many, many moons ago I said I would never do CrossFit, that cult-like exercise thing where people run around lifting and throwing tires and doing burpees until they proudly throw up. So guess what I signed up for this month?

I don’t like doing what everyone else does and everyone who does CrossFit becomes an instant missionary and says things like, “I PRed my squat weight yesterday. It was awesome. You have to do it.” That kind of talk immediately guarantees that I won’t. First of all, because terms like “squat weight” scare me and second because I don’t like to do what other people tell me I “have to” do. I even bristle when someone on Facebook says: “Need ideas for a trip to Crete. Go!” Um, no. Don’t tell me to go. Try going to Google, you lazy . . . (so I might have a small problem here).

For the past 2 years I’ve been working out pretty regularly doing things like Pilates, yoga, and TRX, except during summer vacation because the keyword here is vacation. But my various teachers have all moved away so I’ve been out of the exercise habit since late spring and not missing it at all. But when I was on our recent trip to Germany and Poland, I saw a few things that reminded me that I need to get back to doing something active. First of all, the Germans are crazy in shape. I saw 70 year olds with calves that looked like they’d been carved out of marble. All that trekking and hiking and walking up mountains has turned them into unstoppable machines. Meanwhile I saw some Americans half their age who were huffing and puffing trying to walk up a hill. I’d rather be like a German at 70 than an American at 40 so I vowed to get back to doing something active when I got home. Use it or lose it, I guess.

The final straw was when I was sitting poolside, sipping my iced coffee (with ice cream) and Carter pointed to my leg and exclaimed, “Mom! You have a hole in your thigh!” Yes, sweetie. Thanks. That’s called cellulite. “But it’s a hole!” Yes, I know. That’s what happens when you grow up, have babies and don’t exercise. Let’s keep talking about this subject really loudly so everyone at the pool can hear us. So that cemented the fact that I’m not as fit or as put together as I’d like to imagine that I am and it reminded me that I’m only going to get more dimpled and horrifying to my children if I don’t do something about it.

So, enter CrossFit. In a moment of insanity, I signed up for the month. Three weeks in and I still haven’t gotten the hard body that I am owed after doing all this hard work. Every day I look around for my gold medal because I swear I’m working as hard as an olympic athlete with all the running, jumping, pushups, pull-ups and other ridiculousness. What does a workout look like? Here’s an example:

5rnd
Cindy x3 x2
C/J x 50,000
run 400 meters

I can’t even tell you what that means because I made it up, but that’s what all the workouts look like. A jibber-jabber of numbers and letters written on a whiteboard so I have to whisper to the person next to me, “What are we doing? Wait, how many times?!? And I’m supposed to be holding weights while I do that?! Am I being punked?“

I don’t like to sweat, I don’t like to push myself, and as we established previously, I don’t like when people tell me what to do, so CrossFit should be a non-starter. But so far I haven’t died, which is a plus and also shocking, considering that I did 50 squats this morning while holding one of those long bars that Olympic lifters use. And did more squats and overhead lifts with a bar with weights on the ends. And did some running. And some burpees. This morning. Before 9am. Who am I?!

I do like that it’s so hard that I feel like I’ve earned the right to complain about it for the rest of the day. After my workout I don’t have the energy to do more than lie on the couch and knit and binge watch Parks and Recreation, which seems a bit counterproductive, but supposedly it will get easier. I’m not sure how that’s possible when the coach tells me to add more weight every time I turn around. He seems to think I’m able to do more than I think I’m able to do. So far, he’s been right, but whatever.

Another plus is I’ve met some new people, both from the military community and Bahrainis. I can barely talk to them as I’m huffing and puffing between exercises, but it’s nice to have a change of scenery. It has also brought me closer to God, as each morning I wake up and whisper, “Oh Lord, what new torture will I have to face today?” I may not get to my ultimate goal of hole-free thighs, but hopefully when I’m hiking that mountain I’ll be moving so fast, my thighs will just be a blur.

a Magic Carpet Ride

A few times a year a children’s theater company comes to Bahrain and spends a week with the kids preparing and putting on a musical. This summer the show was Aladdin. Perfect for our Middle Eastern setting!

Caleb auditioned for the role of Cassim, a character who spends a lot of time hiding from the 40 thieves through the use of various costumes and props. The play is very loosely based on the original story/movie. He and his brother, Ali Baba are hiding in the large water jugs.

Camille, thrilled that she’s finally old enough to join the cast, was in the role of a lost penguin (remember how I said it was very loosely based on Aladdin?)

She was the happiest penguin I’ve ever seen.

In disguise as Harpo Marx

More grinning

I can’t tell you much about the storyline of the play. Something about not judging people based on appearances. I was too concerned with watching my little penguin and my Master of Disguise (and trying to delete photos off my phone since I ran out of space as soon as I started to video. So aggravating!)

Cast photo

It’s pretty amazing that they take this group of kids that shows up on Sunday morning, run them through auditions, assign parts and begin rehearsals and are ready to put on a live show on Thursday evening!

Live like a princess

Our last day in Bavaria, we signed up for a tour of one of the palaces in the region, Linderhof Palace. This guy, Ludwig something or other, built several Over The Top castles/palaces back in the mid 1800s. His most famous castle, Newshwanstein, (not how it is spelled, but close to how to pronounce it) is the one that inspired Walt Disney’s Cinderella Castle . We did not go to Newshwanstein because it tends to be very crowded and because Ludwig died before he finished, so supposedly the outside is the beautiful part and the inside is a bit disappointing. We were told that Linderhof was the one worth visiting.

The grounds are gorgeous. This is Bavaria. Green and lush with mountain peaks all around.

From the parking lot it was about a 10 minute walk through the greenery until we came to this clearing where the palace sits.

We made it in time to watch the fountains — waiting for the water to spring up.

I don’t know how they do it, but the fountains are run using natural pressure. It builds for 30 minutes and then shoots for about 3 1/2 minutes until it dissipates. I was expecting small shower, not a huge geyser!

It’s impressive.

The palace was smaller than I expected. My kind of place — huge grounds, small house. That’s my dream for our house someday.

We couldn’t take any photos inside, which is tragic because it was so crazy and ornate . . . I’ve never seen anything like it. Fortunately, they have a fabulous website so you can see all the rooms for yourself if you want. Take a tour. I liked that we saw every room in the palace. We started in the music room and made a full circle. It’s small (for a palace), but every surface is covered with gold, mirrors, feathers, or crystals.

These photos are from the Linderhof website. This was his throne room, or what they call the “audience room.” Basically it was his office. As you will see, he was kind of a nutter — his life was in Germany, but he imported French palace life to the countryside.

His bedroom was huge. The biggest room in the house. The gigantic velvet bed, the tiered chandelier (think of the servants that had to balance on a ladder to light all those candles!), and the part of the room that isn’t shown would be big enough to hold a dance. I guess the French used to entertain guests in their bedrooms so he thought he should do the same. There was also some amazing porcelain sculpture work around the windows in this room. Flowers and scrolls and vines winding up the side of the wall with spaces for candles to add extra light.

The king’s dining room. This table would be lowered through the floor by a crank mechanism, set with dishes and food and then raised up again. I guess so they didn’t have to walk the food through the other rooms in the house to get to the dining room? (They are all connected in a circle so the only way to get there would be through the other rooms.)

Remember when I said he was a nutter? All the paintings and sculptures are of Louis the 14th and other famous French royalty that he idolized. That is weird on it’s own, but I just read this quote from the Linderhof website about his dining habits:

“He (the king) wants no one around him (at meals). Nevertheless, the dinners and suppers always have to be large enough to serve at least three or four people. This way, although the king always sits down to eat alone, he does not feel alone after all. He believes himself in the company of Louis XIV and Louis XV and their lady friends, Madame Pompadour and Madame Maintenon. He even greets them now and then and carries on conversations with them as though he really had them as his guests at table.”

Yep. Crazy town.

This is his Hall of Mirrors, the most ornate room in the house. I guess he liked to hang out in this room at night. Alone.

Back outside.

Another surprise on our palace tour. About 10 minutes away from the palace, hiking uphill, is a hidden man-made cave called the Venus Grotto where he used to put on opera numbers in this underground lagoon. I couldn’t even make this up. So crazy. He had his people dig out this cave and then disguise the entrance with fake rocks so it couldn’t be seen.

Then he’d invite people to parties I guess?

The guide said he liked for his people to row him around the lagoon in this boat while the opera players would be performing in the background. It’s like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride 100 years ahead of its time.

After the tour we explored the hills around the property and checked out a few of the other buildings that Ludwig had brought to Germany.

Like this mosque that he called the Moorish Kiosk. He used to come here and smoke shisha (and who knows what else). He brought it in from France (of course!) in pieces and had it reassembled on his property.

Who expects to find a mosque in the middle of a German forest?

Funny that for us, the green trees and the mountains are the most unusual parts of this scene.

We hiked around and made it to the hill overlooking the palace.

He might have been a bit strange, but he has a beautiful property.

Another out of place outbuilding: An imported Moroccan teahouse.

gorgeous ceiling and tilework

The boys showing off their days of the week socks that we bought in Poland. They are very particular about wearing the right socks on the right day. It’s Wednesday today.

Back to the bus for the second half of our day: A visit to Oberammergau.

This German town during the time of the Black Plague cut itself off from the rest of the world and prayed to their crucifix that they would be saved. When they were, they committed to performing the entire Passion Play (the crucifixion of Christ) every 10 years. It’s a 6 hour play, performed 5 or 6 days a week and to be in the play you have to be a resident of the town. No outsiders. Josh came to see it back in 1990.

We visited the church

The famous crucifix (In the glass box underneath are some human remains — clothes and bones. I don’t know who the person was because the signs were all in German.)

Pretty place, but I’d seen enough gold to last a lifetime by then. It was HOT out. Germany was in the middle of a heat wave and while we are used to the heat, we are not used to no AC.

We spent the rest of our free time eating ice cream and shopping for German clothes. The boys (Carter and Caleb) wanted lederhosen SO BADLY, and yes, they are adorable, but completely impractical for desert weather. I promised them if we moved to Germany ever that I would buy them a pair. Since they are made out of leather, they aren’t cheap.

Yes, she got a dirndl because she will be able to wear it. Josh bought her one 3 years ago and she’s worn it until she’s almost outgrown it. You can look back on that one in this post. What a doll!

We’ve been home for a week and Camille has already worn this one 3 times. Desert style — without the blouse underneath. Money well spent.

For our last evening Josh and Calvin went on a brewery tour and had lots of fun tasting and learning about beer making and I stayed home with the kids where they ran on our lawn to their hearts’ content and spent one last evening with their friends.

Sunset on the mountains.

Bavaria was a paradise in every way.

I’m on the Top of the World

One of things the boys have been most excited about on this trip (I say boys out of habit from all the years it was just “the boys,” but girlie was excited too) was going up to the snow in the middle of summer. On the Zugspitze — I think it’s pronounced ‘Zoog spits suh’ though most of my German attempts sound like ‘Zoog spa wa-wa’ or ‘New shwa de ha.’ After the first syllable, I’m completely lost — anyway, this mountain is the tallest point in Germany and it has snow year round.

So we took the bus back up to the lake where we had ridden to the day before (relieved that I wasn’t having to pedal that stretch again) and bought tickets up the mountain. I had known that this was going to be a stretching kind of event (anxiety-wise) because the choices to reach the top of the mountain are either by train or gondola. Did I trust that a train was going to be able to make it straight up (and inside the mountain tunnels) without falling off the track? Or off the side of the mountain? On the other hand, a gondola is just a big freaking ferris wheel car, except higher up and hanging from wires. I hate ferris wheels. Ever since 6th grade they have been my amusement park nemesis. Roller coaster? Sure — all buckled in tight and moving fast. Ferris wheels leave you hanging and stranded and they swing unpredictably. The horrors.

I don’t know how I decided that we should take the gondola up, but I marched myself on knowing that I probably wouldn’t love it, but world traveling flyer that I am now, I should be able to handle this mode of public transportation. And then they started loading the car full of people. Super full.

Squeeze in tight. What’s the weight limit on these things? No one was checking. That’s concerning.

Oh Lord, we’re moving.

She’s just bored and too short to see out of the glass windows. Don’t worry sweetie. You’re not missing much.

We start to glide up and my body relaxes — this is smooth and virtually motionless. Almost like an elevator. Piece of cake.

Ah, pretty trees below. No big deal.

And then we reached the first tower and the entire car jerked, froze in mid-air and then swung. There was a collective gasp and “Woah!” from the crowd and I clutched the nearest shoulder (Carter’s) and started hissing, “Shit . . . shit!” under my breath as I broke out in a sweat and the gondola started getting really hot. Carter turned around, big eyed and laughing, “Mama!” I was sure the gondola needed all the help I could give it so I stood half hunched, half on my tiptoes, trying to weigh as little as possible. We caught the next cable and continued on up, but it was no longer smooth sailing for me.

The other people with me have lost their minds and don’t see the danger in all the swinging.

As the cable got steeper the car slowed even further and I knew we should have weighed everyone before loading because someone obviously miscalculated the load. Everyone is happy and laughing and breathing all my air.

There is no way we are getting up this mountain. At this point, the cable is running practically vertically. Who in the world thought this was a good idea?!

Bob could commiserate with me. He wasn’t a huge fan of the whole thing either, but he was less wild-eyed and sweaty than I was.

Yay, yay, pretty things down below. Just ignore what is happening above my head and the creaking sounds and the grinding of the cable and all the people making jokes that we’re going to get stuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

So we did make it to the top in about 10 minutes that felt like 100 and aside from stopping 6 inches short of the platform and having to drop back down a few feet and approach it again (also not my favorite part) it was an uneventful trip. Supposedly. I guess all that swinging stuff is normal. And the bumping from one tower to the next. Also normal. Supposedly. That’s what they say about ferris wheels too, but people still get stuck in them.

This is a look back down the path we traveled. See how steep those wires are? 3 guesses as to how I get back down the mountain.

It took about 5 minutes for me to be able to walk normally, not on my tiptoes, because even though we were on solid ground, I still felt like the mountain needed me to help it out. It also felt a bit like I might fall off the mountain if I weren’t extra careful.

I might be afraid of the gondola, but I wasn’t scared to do this! Leaving the ‘safety zone’ (that’s what the signs said) to climb out across the peak, up a metal ladder and scramble using a cable for handholds to get to the actual highest point of the mountain. Yeah, phobias are weird. Carter wasn’t scared on the gondola, but he said there was no way he was going to do this.

“Our lake” Eibsee down below.

Climbing out to the mountain peak. Waiting because a guy is proposing to his girlfriend at the top at the moment (she said yes!)

Looking back at the observation deck. The blue and pink dot is crying Camille. She was so mad that we wouldn’t let her climb it with us, but her legs would have been too short to climb the ladder.

Made it! Caleb really is hanging on for dear life. It’s a long way down . . .

Picking their way back down the mountainside.

We walked around up top for a bit where there’s the observation deck and beer garden/outdoor restaurant, but the kids were itching to get to the sledding so we took a lift down to the glacier where the ski slopes are in the winter and the sledding run is in the summer.

Carter sidled up to me hoping for more Crazy Mom, but this one was a quick glide down. Easy.

Lots of snow!!

In spite of the cold stuff on the ground, the air was smokin’ hot. We stripped off our jackets and found some sleds. The rest of this post is mostly just photos of the kids playing in the snow, throwing snowballs, or sledding.

Off she goes!

Calvin and Caleb

Caleb and Carter

Two things we never see in Bahrain: my bare shoulders and snow.

There was plenty of snowball throwing.

Sunbathing at the top — it felt like a day at the beach. The kids kept playing in the snow and Josh and I found ourselves some beach chairs.

A beer for Josh, a cappuccino for me. Coffee is my green eggs and ham: I’ll take it anywhere.

We ate, relaxed, and looked out at clouds that were almost eye level.

Enough rest — more snow!

I needed to cool off so I lay down in the snow. Waterproof jacket means chilling without getting wet! Not only was it hot, but hiking back up the steep hill after sledding down was a workout!

The kids went up and down the hill over and over again, but I only sledded 3 or 4 times. I was flying down, but the trek back up took forever.

I’m gonna get you!

After a fun day, it was time to head back down the mountain. By train this time. Camille wanted to take her snow baby home with her, but I convinced her to leave him with the rest of his snow family.

The train ride down was pretty uneventful. Mostly because for the steepest part we were inside a tunnel (about 20-30 minutes). There was a lot of hissing of brakes and other unsettling sounds, but I was too full of sun and exercise to care much. As we came out of the tunnel we passed this hiker who was headed up the mountain. They do sell one way tickets for those adventures who either want to hike up or hike down under their own power. Maybe next time. I’d prefer that to the gondola.

killer ride

Since we rented the bikes for two days, on day 3 in Germany we chose to bike to Lake Eibsee, located at the base of the Zugspitze (pronounced Eyebsee, something about the rule in German being to ignore the first vowel and say the second. I’m terrible with other languages and feel ridiculous trying. Meanwhile Josh is ordering food in German and God knows what else since I can’t understand him as he talks to the bus driver or the security guards. I think if my hearing were sharper, I would do better, but the new sounds are all just fuzz in my ears.)

We were told this ride was beautiful and it had “a small climb,” which we found is German-speak for a straight up and down mountain.

See that look of pain on his face? He’s usually our strong one. The only reason I’m ahead of him to take this photo is because we stopped for water and I got back on my bike first and only made it around the first curve before deciding that walking was easier.

She called, “go faster!” at a few inopportune moments.

It started out lovely, as slowly rising road through countryside and quaint German towns and then the mountain got real. We were all making it until the path switched from asphalt to gravel and then I started looking for a bush to ditch my bike. When I saw this sign I thought I was about done and then saw we still had 20 minutes to go. Those are hiking times, but I was biking about the speed that someone could walk, so same-same.

At one point he decided it was actually easier to carry his bike than to ride it.

Carter and Calvin were around here somewhere, but I was too busy to take many pictures. Calvin was riding up and back the way a teenage boy can, Carter was struggling and refusing to switch to the right gear, but between walking and riding, we all made it to the top.

A rest at Lake Eibsee

Since we went to all the effort to get there, they had to see if it was warm enough to swim.

Cold, but worth it (not for me. I’m not biking in wet clothes.)

Gorgeous, clear, sunny and they said the water wasn’t too bad. It was warmer than the Pacific ocean.

Many people spend the day hiking around the lake. We originally discussed biking around the lake, but used up all of our biking goodwill getting up the mountain. We decided to eat instead.

Beer, sausage and fries. All day, every day. The beers are both regular and non-alcoholic. They call the non-alcoholic wheat beers “German gatorade” because they have all the nutrients, minerals, etc of regular beer, but none of the alcohol so people will drink them all day to hydrate.

Time to get back on the bikes for a quick trip down the mountain.

Free range cows

The ride back was a breeze once we got off the gravel downslopes. The constant braking and slipping was a bit hairy.

Here is where I’m a great sport and instead of turning in to the hotel, we continue on another 20 minutes down the road to the ski jump/Olympic stadium.

The boys weren’t really interested in the ski jumps, but wanted to try out the alpine coaster that is right next door.

It’s a summer luge

The car is put on a track and you are pulled up a steep ramp (on a chain like a roller coaster) and then set loose on the track. It’s about a 3 minute ride full of spins and centrifugal forces and speed until your car glides into the station back at the start.

Meels and I heading up!

It was really fun. We wanted to try a longer coaster (almost 3 kilometers of downhill track) in a nearby town, but we didn’t have time to get over there.

After we biked back to the hotel it was time for dinner. We quenched Josh’s desire to explore by taking the bus into the village for dinner. A friend recommended this restaurant (and told me to ignore the name), but it wasn’t open so we headed to a place down the street that Josh had tried last time he was in town.

The kids like to bring cards wherever we go. This trip they played a lot of “scum.” I have no idea how to play — I hate games. I actually told Josh I was cashing in my points from all the family riding and activity from today and was going to read a few pages of my book while waiting for the food to arrive. I had earned it.

More non-alcoholic beer. It tastes just like the regular beer, but better because it doesn’t have any of the bitterness from the alcohol. The kids wanted to order it at every restaurant.

Pork everywhere. Germany is the opposite of Bahrain. Pork and beer are staples instead of harem (ha-raam, forbidden). I’m drinking sparkling water everywhere. “With gas.” I love Europe.

And why not some more ice cream? Not nearly as cheap as in Krakow, but at $1.50 per cone for the good stuff (gelato style in the huge piles with exotic flavors) it’s impossible to pass up.

Another day over. Not that you’d be able to tell from the sun still so high in the sky. Daylight Savings Time plus being further North means that the days are so much longer here. That’s a great thing to have on vacation!