Tulsa Tough is Coming!

Very soon, Tulsa will be inundated with bicycles as the 11th annual Saint Francis Tulsa Tough opens on Friday June10. The Tulsa Tough is a three-day cycling festival that offers rides for just about every fitness level. Even if you’re not a cyclist, it’s amazing to watch the criterion rides on Friday night in the Blue Dome District or Saturday in the Brady Arts District. It’s thrilling to be among the crowd cheering the skill and speed of these professional cyclists.

There are also rides for recreational cyclists to join; ranging in distances of 36, 64 and 102 miles. There is even a 5.8 mile Townie ride on Sunday afternoon for families. This will be my fourth year to ride the Gran Fondo - which is a distance of a little over 100 miles. It may sound crazy, but I look forward to this event every summer. It’s become a tradition for my husband and me. Our oldest son began riding this event in 2011, and he inspired me to attempt the distance.

Bikes and cycling have been part of our family from the very beginning. Steve and I rode many miles together in the months we were dating and through our early marriage. Each of our kids can recall being pulled behind Steve’s bike in the trailer before they were on their own two wheels. Now that they’re all teens and older, we’ve returned to riding as a couple. These are sweet times together, reminiscent of our early years.

Being on a bike brings me a sense of happiness – joy – freedom. I am generally a cautious person, but on the bike I find a higher level of courage and tolerance for speed. Admittedly, on a bike, speed is relative. Slowly climbing a hill at 8-10 mph and then flying down the other side at 25-30 mph is something I welcome. On the long, flat roads of Oklahoma, cycling can feel like a nature walk on two wheels; listening to the rhythmic rustling of tall grass, the calls of birds, the occasional sighting of wildlife, even the chance to stop and forage mulberries along the trail. There are also a few less-than-pleasant realities of cycling on the open road: blasts of hot air from passing vehicles, drivers who honk and yell as they come alongside you and the presence of fresh road kill. As a cyclist, you just take it all. Welcome to life in the bike lane!

Cycling also tests me as an athlete – pushing me to summon strength, develop endurance and dig deep for determination. The Gran Fondo ride is no Sunday afternoon picnic. It’s incredibly challenging and deeply rewarding. The event begins downtown with hundreds of cyclists leaving en masse. There is the familiar whir of chains gliding over cogs, the cheers of spectators and the adrenaline rush of a tribe coming together again. But after only a few miles on the course, the riders spread out behind the peloton into clusters of bikes and several will ride alone for much of the 100 mile distance.

For me, the Tulsa Tough is a chance to enjoy time with part of my family as we press through one of the most physically demanding days of our year. It’s also about being in and among the cycling community. This is Tulsa! And this event brings together cyclists from all over the nation, and support from all over town.

I am looking forward to testing my training again next weekend. I’m not a fast rider, and that’s okay. This is not about winning or setting records. It’s about fitness and family. I am grateful for both.

#frugalfebruary

“There’s been a little incident at work...with my paycheck...”  I don’t think I’ll ever forget that conversation from late January 2001.  My husband explained that his payroll check had not cleared the bank - we were left in a lurch.  In those days we had no buffer - no margin to help us navigate a surprise incident like a missed paycheck.  We also had considerable credit card debt hanging over us.  This was no little blip on our radar.  This was a full-on wake up call. Thus began a family project I named “Frugal February”.  

We only had three kids at the time; our little boys were 6, 4 and 2.  We had just begun homeschooling that fall, and I had already outlined a Pioneer Unit Study for February.  The plan was for us to introduce life skills, eat simple meals, play old fashioned games, and explore what living long ago may have been like.  I had no idea that this would become a real life exercise in resiliency for all of us.  

As the reality of our financial situation sank in, we began to look for ways to improvise and make do with what we had on hand. It was a frightening time for me, but still I tried to make it a game for the boys: “Let’s eat dinner by lantern light”. “Let’s read Little House in the Big Woods”.  “Who wants to help bake some bread?”

My panicked and spontaneous action plan was something like this:

Eat from what was already in the pantry before going to the grocery

Meal plan: resourcing the cookbooks More With Less and Extending the Table

No convenience foods, carry-out meals, QT drinks, etc

Reread all the back issues from The Tightwad Gazette Newsletter.

Use the library for movies instead of Blockbuster (this was back in the days of VHS).

Find any cash we had on hand to use for necessities

Only spend for basic needs

In the years that followed, I read stacks of books on frugality, simplicity and personal finance.  Every February, in honor of that first shock, we willingly shift from maintenance mode frugality to radical simplicity - 28 days of spending only for necessities: food, shelter, transportation.  For many years it was a necessary action.  Now the annual spending fast has become a reverent season on our calendar.  It’s a mental reset; a renewal of intentional decision making about how we spend our resources.  It’s also a reminder that we are only stewards of the time and money entrusted to us.

I enjoy it when we challenge ourselves to do without, and test our ability to delay gratification.  Regularly tightening our spending limits for a short duration has helped us develop creativity, and learn better habits about money.  It sounds so simple now, but it hasn’t been easy.  Over the years we’ve realized that we can live on less than we earn.  We’ve learned to be content with what we have, rather than constantly craving more possessions.  We’ve also disciplined ourselves to plan for a rainy day, by building up a savings buffer for when trouble strikes. 

This February marks the 15^th year my family has played our simplicity game.  What began under a burden of necessity is now a time of remembrance and gratitude.  I never want to forget the years we lived with debt and lack.  That reality still frames the way we live today.  I also don’t want to fret and ruminate over financial mistakes we made years ago.  We choose to look back and remember, and then set our sights on the days to come.

Mostly, we’re just grateful.