Hooray hooray! The first of May! Outdoor fucking begins today!

Never Done: I went hiking (walking, meandering, picnicking) on Staten Island

My friend L has a weekly Sunday ritual in which she gets out of the city and walks somewhere beautiful. She invites friends. She brings wonderful snacks. She goes no matter how many 12 hour work days she's been pulling in a row. She invited me. I decided to go on May Day.

When I was a little girl in kindergarten, we used to give each other handmade May Day Baskets, filled with candy and flowers, and dance around a May Pole -- holding on to long ribbons and weaving in and around each other, singing, dancing, and feeling the first bursts of Spring. At the time I had no idea that May Day was a workers' holiday -- just that it was a celebration of Spring, flowers, and the outdoors. Which all might sound wholesome and pastoral, except that in my house, my father would come downstairs every May Day morning, singing, "Hooray hooray! The first of May! Outdoor fucking begins today!" I've been trying to trace the origins of this chant, and curious to know what others know. Some people say it actually originated in the early 70s, and trace it to the Illuminatus! books, which does actually seem like something my dad would have read. Others attribute it to Allan Sherman in his book, The Rape of the A.P.E. (American Puritan Ethic) which I do actually remember seeing around the house. Others still attribute it vaguely and without specific reference to the 1940s, which would also make sense for my father, who was far from puritanical, especially during the 1940s. Wherever it came from, it did in fact open my mind to outdoor erotic possibilities, which is a pretty wonderful gift to receive from a father.

Wow, I have set myself up for a challenging segue. Because that's not what I was doing on May Day. Instead, I just gave you a completely misleading inner life free association, so let me bring you back to the exterior life, when my friend picked me up at 8 AM -- earlier than usual to try to avoid the road closures from the 5-boro bike tour, which I decided not to do. Our timing worked out great, because we sped to Staten Island -- were there in 15 minutes -- and called up her other friend A, who lives on Staten Island, to come with us. We found her house, picked her and her dog up, and wove our way through manicured suburban neighborhoods I didn't even know existed in NYC to the parking lot at Todt Hill, one of the good walks in the Staten Island Greenbelt.

The Greenbelt consists of more than 2,800 acres of public and private land in central Staten Island, and includes natural areas and traditional parks. 2800 acres of land, conserved in one of the 5 boroughs!?! God, I love conservation land programs. There were times in our hike (which was really a slow walk with frequent stops for good snacks) when we could see for miles and miles (oh yeah) -- all the way out to water.



And then there were other times when we picnicked under a blooming apple tree on the edge of a golf course. So wilderness it isn't, but it has more woods than I've ever seen before in NYC.

It was a gorgeous day, and I loved being out there -- but most of all, I loved being invited into someone else's ritual practice -- respecting it for what it is while also making it mine for the day. I think I was more attentive than I would have been if I was just out by myself, but more importantly for me, I gave up control of the day and went with the flow of what was instead of clinging to what I thought was going to be. And the rewards were many. Hard boiled eggs dyed and marbled in cabbage, turmeric, and coffee. Hot chocolate made with a little portable camp teapot. Cactus growing in nature (in New York!?) Another friend. Her dog. And taking it slowly, however we define "it."

I went to swim practice and I learned to draft

Never Done: Went to Team in Training swim practice (and drafted!)

One of the things they tell you in Team in Training informational sessions is that you are going to make a lot of great new friends. Honestly, I cringe every time I hear this, because really, the last thing I need is more great friends. I am already blessed with the best. So I've been going to trainings and focusing more on myself than others. Not unfriendly, just not solicitous. Which is not actually easy for me to do, accustomed as I am to focus outward, take the temperatures of the people around me, assess their needs before my own. But I've been staying pretty close to myself, and I'm enjoying the training.

I love to swim. It's really one of my true joys in life. I love it so much that I am willing to drive to Staten Island to go to swim practice because the Brooklyn practice is on my Mussar night. I especially love to swim at night. When I lived in Portland and had 24-hour access to a wonderful pool, Jensi and I used to swim at 10 or 11 PM, and I found it would do whatever I needed it to do -- if I needed to stay up and work, it would energize me so that I could do that, and if I needed to go to sleep, it would calm me down and relax me.

So I had my first swim practice with Team in Training. It was supposed to go from 8:30-9:30, but when I got there at 8:15, it was already in progress, and the coach (Mark) and I had an awkward little introductory conversation that went something like this.

Me: Hi. Doesn't practice start at 8:30?
Mark: We start at 8.
Me: Oh, my Brooklyn coach said it started at 8:30.
Mark: Yeah, we start at 8.

I am the person who gets there 15 minutes early to stretch, so in a way I think it's good for me to be the person who thought I was getting there 15 minutes early, but was really 15 minutes late. Good in terms of ... you can't be perfect, and life doesn't fall apart. When I hopped in the pool and started to swim, it was clear that I'm on the advanced end of the spectrum of this group of swimmers, and he sent me and another guy off to do my first real workout in 35 years, and then he stayed with the other swimmers, who could literally not swim a length of the pool. I was so impressed with these guys, that they are learning to swim and then are going to swim a triathlon! I mean, at least I know how to ride a bike.

Mark told me to start with three 200's, 30 seconds apart, and try to keep them all at the same pace. I remember when this used to be easy. Back when I was on swim team in 1976. (Tshuve.) (Is that right, Claire? When is the last time I actually on swim team?) But since I spent the last 5 years of my life with Olympic swimmers, and watching swim practice at the highest level, I think I sort of faked myself into thinking I was in better swim shape than I really am.

As soon as we started I got nervous that he had pegged me as a good swimmer and that I would start to fatigue faster than he expected. This might be true, but he tracked how I was doing, and told me my stroke looked great. At some point, I switched it up and did some back stroke, and he told me to try putting my head back more. I loved getting real coaching from someone who had the capacity to watch a bunch of people in the water at the same time, and offer instruction to everyone at their own level. So I did what he said, and I tried putting my head back further. It felt strange. Water went deep into my ears, and over my face, but he was right -- my stroke was smoother.

After that, he had me do five 50's, 15 seconds apart. And then a 10 minute endurance swim, which I was enjoying, just taking it slow and steady, when my foot cramped up. Which was a sure sign that I was doing something different/harder from usual, because I routinely swim a mile and my foot doesn't cramp up. But once again Mark coached me - this time through my cramp. I had gotten out of the pool and was rubbing it, but he told me to walk and drink water. I don't even know if was a better approach, but there are so few occasions in my life when someone mentors me that I just suspended my questioning and did what he said. I think that training for the triathlon will give me much reflection about the mide (middah) Humility: Seek wisdom from everyone, including the ways I crave wise guidance, and also the ways I resist it.

About 5 minutes before practice was over, a woman (Tonya) arrived and hopped in the pool. By then, I was sitting on the deck, having not continued my endurance swim. The rest of the guys were leaving, and Mark said to me and Tonya, "If you stay, we can do some fun training."

So I hopped back in, and he taught us how to draft. Drafting is swimming (or bike riding) so close to the person in front of you that they create a wake that basically pulls you along. I've watched people draft, but never done it myself, because ... well, basically because I like my space. And I have some fears about being too crowded in certain situations, and water is one of them. You're not allowed to draft on bikes in a triathlon, but it turns out that not only are you allowed to draft in the water, you are encouraged to.

So Tonya and I took turns drafting off each other, and it turned out to be a smart thing to practice. She kept actually touching my feet when I was in front, and I didn't kick her in the head, so that was good. And when I was behind, I was able to reach right out and stay super close to her without actually touching her feet, and I definitely felt the water pull me along. Then we practiced a fingertip drag stroke, and sculling, and did a few other things, until Mark wanted to go home. And as Tonya and I showered and dressed and talked about her sister in the Pacific Northwest and her work with children with developmental disabilities, I realized it was happening, the Team in Training experience I didn't think I wanted. I was making a new friend. Just like my coaches said I would.