« April 2005 | Main | June 2005 »
May 31, 2005
looking ahead
I came up with a list of potential races/events, which of course is sitting on my home computer. I haven't even done the Gorge yet, and already I'm thinking about other races.
First and foremost in my mind is staying in marathon shape. I have started from scratch... and I don't want to do it again.
Here's what our guy Higdon says:
Return too quickly and you increase your risk of injury. Some experts suggest resting one day for every mile you ran in the marathon, thus 26 days of no hard running or racing. Others suggest one day for every kilometer, thus 42 days rest. Often the determining factor is not how quickly your body recovers, but how quickly your mind recovers, since you temporarily will have lost your main training goal. Olympic champion Frank Shorter says: "You're not ready to run another marathon until you've forgotten the last one."
The training you do in the three weeks following a marathon should be a near mirror of what you did the last three weeks before: in other words, a reverse taper. Your eating after also should mirror your eating before, since a diet high in carbohydrates can help refuel your muscles as well as fuel them.
More Higdon info that I could use:
Multiple Marathons
Post-Marathon Training Schedule (intermediate)
Ultramarathon Training
I will still be facing the same old problem—making the time to get the miles in. I'm not altogether sure how to make that easier.
before, during, and...
I realized yesterday, after we had done the better part of three days of work on the driveway—dear g-d, three days. Maybe we should try to keep up with this stuff better—that it would be very satisfying to have before and after photos. Ah, hindsight being 20-20 or some such.
The closest I have come to a before photo is this one, taken in April.
Note, the giant green blob behind the scooter? That's my shrub roses.
And this is what it looked like last night:
There is still so much to do. The shrub rose on the left must be moved. The last two lilacs should also, probably, be moved. We need to dig a 4 inch deep trench, and lay in sand and 3/4minus gravel. Where do you get 3/4minus gravel? That's another issue. Can we do all of this this week, and meet the Friday deadline? Ack!
May 30, 2005
weedkiller
We debated for over a month whether to use a weedkiller on the clematis and wisteria that has overtaken the front porch. Oh, the wailing and gnashing of teeth. We are just full of non-toxic, half-assed little details in our shared life.
Anyways, after lots of discussion, we finally decided that we would buy it, we would use it, and we would easily kill the vines. Treat the leaves, and the whole plant dies in 24 hours! Hurrah!
So yesterday, I went out and "treated" the vines. And, of course, nothing has happened. The leaves look no worse for the wear. The plants appear no less robust.
Naked
There has been much demolition today.
The day at a glance: Get up and go to favorite (though always too full) breakfast joint. Eat breakfast, then grimace that it is too early to run power tools. Do demolition with loppers and pruners, quietly.
At 11:20, hear someone firing up their lawnmower. Run outside with weedwhacker to mow down clematis, nightshade and blackberries that have taken up residence next to the driveway. Then, pull all of the clematis out of the lilacs.
Run in and grab the hedge trimmer. It will not start. It makes a groaning noise. Try a number of different methods to try to lull the hedge trimmer into operation again. It will have none of it.
Sweetie takes it back to the store. I continue handtrimming.
The neighbors all come by to marvel at the growing hill of clematis, shrub roses, blackberries, volunteer trees, corkscrew willow, and diseased rosebush clippings in the middle of the driveway. It's more like a collection of rolling hills.
I think about Tim. What happened? How can two people from my old circle of friends be dead? And what does this say about me? I panic a bit, and wonder if the guy I knew from college, who got me into cab driving, I wonder if he's still alive (he is, he of course has a web site). I wonder if this is some how related to class—I, after all, was one of those annoying college kids. I didn't need to be cab-driving. But I did need to earn money. And, I was entirely unconvinced that I could do anything other than service work. For the next 15 years, I was solidly blue collar, with brief brief forays into white collar work that never lasted more than 6 months, and left me feeling like a tourist, not that I had any right to be there.
Sweetie returns with a new hedge trimmer. I finish trimming the shrub roses. We load up the truck with lawn debris, and to both of our surprises, there is at least another load waiting in the driveway once the truck is full.
Our driveway looks naked. The three lilacs look sparse and sad once all the clematis and blackberries are cleared. The shrub roses are mere shadows of themselves. Two days ago, the sides and end of the driveway were lush, thick, verdant. The shrub roses were easily 7 feet tall, and six feet square. I don't like how bare it is. I don't like it at all.
However, few things are as satisfying as a trip to the dump. There is something so freeing about flinging things off the truck into a giant mountain as hard and as high as you possibly can.
We talk about stopping for a beer on the way home. I mention a place that the Portland Marathon passes, where Tanya Harding's goon squad had dumped their evidence, which Sweetie declares too much of a dive. We drive by on the way to the dump, and the place is closed and empty. We drive by on the way back, and the owner's car is there (Sweetie drives by this place almost daily) and we see him inside. He's painting. And he appears to be wearing a white apron. And underwear. That's it.
The rest of the evening—as we eat sandwiches, as we browse CDs, as we are driving home—sweetie asks me, what was he painting? Well?
May 29, 2005
trauma
Today has been an odd day. I overslept PFit and vacillated between really enjoying that and really feeling guilty.
Sweetie and I went to breakfast at our current favorite place, and just as we were planning out the rest of the morning, I remembered that the dog was due at the groomers in 20 minutes. So I ran outta there, scooted home, collected dog into the car and off we went.
Once I got home, I did some therapeutic cleaning, the ritual mowing of the grass (or at least as much grass as our aging electric mower's battery can handle), then some therapeutic weed and shrub destruction. It was beautiful. I so love the hedge trimmer.
And then I came in the house, saw an envelope from a friend who I haven't talked to in a while, who enclosed only a death notice for an old boyfriend. Ack!
I immediately did some websurfing, hoping I could find some more information. He was 49. Pretty outrageously young.
In the rest of my life, people die, usually of something clear cut like cancer. And by and large, people my age don't die. But that's not the case with my old cab driving friends. One was shot and killed in a robbery. One committed suicide. One died of lung cancer. And now Tim is dead, who knows why?
...
That wasn't my only trauma. I read Lara's reference of Megan's question of shorts that don't ride up. And immediately, I thought of Women in Motion's shorts—both the bike-style shorts and the running shorts—how they are intelligently designed for women. I wear their products daily, and I love them, they're well designed, and, the price point is reasonable. My only complaint has been the lack of pockets.
Until now. They are no longer selling from their website. They are selling a couple items from Jun0nia, priced about twice what they were at the WIM site. And, they're selling from G@rnet Hill, but I couldn't find any of their stuff either.
Just thinking about this makes me want to cry. I guess it was too good to be true.
May 27, 2005
bike, bike, bike!
First of all, I pass the book meme along to Neca or Nancy or Tszuj—have at, have a good time!
Speaking of Tszuj, her latest entry had this gem:
We're thinking about going in on a group order of "Scoop!" tee shirts (they say "it's a Pilates thing" on the back). Last week in class, after a particularly brutal set of ab-intensive work, someone said "my scooper is pooped". I think that would make a good tee shirt...hmmmm....
...
So, I didn't do pilates last night. After spending the day bouncing off the walls and trying to channel that energy—not so well, really—into work—aaannnddd, it's hotter than h-e-double-hockey-sticks outside, and the building A.C. has failed, again—I came home, we wolfed down some macaroni-cheese-&-tomatoes, I changed into my pilates clothes, and we ran over to the Bike Gallery.
My long-suffering sales associate/shop girl/bike guru sent me out first with a Townie24 (that's 24 speeds, dude!). It was a lovely Mela-shade of blue, so it would have matched the scooter (if I was trying to color-coordinate my transportation). The gears were heavenly as I rode up the hill to Alameda, and all around, but the bike felt kinda adult, and I'm definitely not looking for adult.
So I went back out with the pink Townie3, and while riding up the Alameda hill was not heavenly, it wasn't bad, and I dug it. It definitely doesn't feel adult. So I went back in to fill out the paperwork and empty my wallet.
They didn't have the fenders or rack that I'd like, but I did have them put on a big ole basket on the front. It disconnects easily, so if I were going to the grocery, I could just bring it in with me. How crazy is that? That rocks my world!
...
So, of course, I rode it in this morning. And I loved it.
My purse fits right in the basket. So nice. The bike is so comfortable. I went a leisurely pace, I thought, and had no trouble with any of the minor hills. I had no trouble with the only major hill too. And while Portland athletes are pretty friendly, just about everyone I saw smiled, waved or said hi. Including people in cars.
I was shocked to see that I made it to work in 25 minutes. Um, that's 5 minutes faster than with the other bike. And with the other bike, I'm totally winded by the time I get here.
Riding in was so much fun that I'm thinking about maybe riding to the eastside for lunch!
Oh! And, with the other bike, my private parts would totally numb out within 20 minutes. With this one, all of me remained alert and chipper!
May 26, 2005
book meme
Okay, I got this meme from Megan.
You are stuck inside Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
Oh! This is where I have to admit that I've never read Bradbury. (And yes, I do have a library and creative writing degree. This is the miserable state of education in this country. Or, representative of my dislike of fiction). But I would hope I'd be a book that is worth risking your life for.
That said, I used to be a really voracious book reader. But now, I find it kind of difficult to read books. I'm really much more attracted to magazines.
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
I'm sure I have. I seem to have the ability to get a crush on just about anyone or anything. That said, I can't recall one.
The last book you bought is?
Gosh. Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner. The book I'm dying to buy next is Laura Foster's Portland Hill Walks : Twenty Explorations in Parks and Neighborhoods which I'll probably get to read the day before the Gorge.
The last book you read was?
Change Your Questions, Change Your Life: 7 Powerful Tools for Life and Work by Marilee G. Adams. Before that was Googie: Fifties Coffee Shop Architecture by Alan Hess (which was mostly pictures!).
What are you currently reading?
- Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner
- Getting things done : the art of stress-free productivity / by Allen, David
- The life laundry : how to de-junk your life / by Walter, Dawna (I'm totally addicted to the BBC show)
- Absolute beginner's guide to databases / by Petersen, John V.
- Movable Type 3 bible / by Cadenhead, Rogers.
- Walking fast / by Iknoian, Therese
- Nuevo Tex-Mex : festive new recipes from just north of the border / by Garrido, David.
- Mexicolor : the spirit of Mexican design / by Levick, Melba.
- Meeting faith : the forest journals of a black buddhist nun / by Adiele, Faith.
- Jacques Pepin's fast food my way
- Epileptic 1 / by B, David
- Proficient motorcycling : the ultimate guide to riding well / by Hough, David
- The art of urban cycling : lessons from the street / by Hurst, Robert
Five books you would take to a deserted island?
- Girls, Visions and Everything and/or After Delores by Sarah Schulman
- Close to the Machine: Technophilia and Its Discontents by Ellen Ullman
- The Heart Can Be Filled Anywhere on Earth: Minneota, Minnesota by Bill Holm
- Locas: A Love & Rockets Book by Jaime Hernandez
- Just about anything by Joan Didion
- This Place on Earth: Home and the Practice of Permanence by Alan Thein Durning
- A world atlas
Hippie Chick pic
buzzzzzz
I'm really rather bubbling with excitement! In spite of sleeping badly, I am all abuzz.
Yesterday was a rest day from pilates—unusual as that may be in my recent pilates mania. I enjoyed the acheyness of my belly. After work, I picked up my scoot (it was in for its 300K tuneup), and we ran over to Corazzo World Headquarters so I could try on a women's hoodie.
Corazzo is a local firm that makes gorgeous body armor clothing for scooterists and motorcyclists. The idea behind body armor is to put a good barrier, and padding between you and anything you might interact with—like the surface of a road, other cycles, cars, etc. Wearing body armor can be the difference between an ambulance ride to the ER and walking away from an accident.
Anyways, it's gorgeous, and it's local, and best yet, it fits, so I got one. I love it. Though, yesterday afternoon was about 80 degrees and I was rather, well, warm. But cute, seriously cute!
...
Today I buy a bicycle! Today I buy a bicycle!!
...
I'm starting to get really excited about the marathon. Who cares about organization? Not me! I went to the R3I website yesterday, and was thrilled to see that they have a comparison feature. So I could look at all of their hydration units, and compare bladder sizes and storage! It looks like there are several that would do very well by me if I wanted to do a self-supported marathon.
Sweetie and I sat on the back porch last night and chatted about the logistics of said marathon and worked out a lot of the details. I am no longer freaking out. It's all going to come together. The car will be fine, and will make a lot of things easier. I still need to check with the motel to see if our room will have a fridge or internet access or wifi, but at least we can bring a cooler, the french press, and the electric kettle.
And maybe we can ride the scooters out to the race route this weekend, and get an idea of what I've committed to.
Really, it should be great. Hood River is one of our favorite places in the state, and the motel is right at the finish line. The motel has a restaurant so if I'm not doing so great after the marathon, I only need to hobble down the hall and to the elevator to get something to eat.
...
And I get to taper! Here are the highlights of training next week:
Monday: Cross-train or rest, preferably the latter. Your whole final week leading up to the marathon should be devoted to rest, rest, rest!Tuesday: Begin carbo-loading
Thursday: The last three days are critical to the final taper. Usually, I rest two days and do some light jogging on the third. In this schedule I advise that you rest Thursday and Friday with a final easy run on Saturday, the day before the marathon. You can juggle these days to suit your own temperament. Carbo-loading begins in earnest today. Pasta, rice, potatoes, cereals, fruits.
May 25, 2005
race worries
Well, I sit on my hands. I can't wait to get the new bike. I still need to compulsively compare models, but the pink only comes in 3 speeds, and I like the pink. Oh, and I need to order the rose stickers!
So, yesterday, I finally signed up for the Gorge Marathon. It's expensive—$92 including service charge. I barely had enough time to feel satisfied that, yes, I am going to do this, when I checked marathonguide.com and saw these recent horrible reviews. Ugh! I hate to be high-maintenance, but, um, I want races to start on time, and if I'm paying $92, I want a real start line, a clock at the finish, reasonable amounts of portapotties, lots of aid stations with the full compliment of supplies. I want to be sure that there'll be a bus that can take me from Hood River (the finish) to The Dalles (the start) that will get me there in time for the early start, and not leave at 4:30 in the morning.
That getting to The Dalles really does worry me. I wrote the contact address yesterday and got this reply:
The shuttles will leave the finish area in HR (Marina Park) one hour prior to start.
It's not inspiring confidence. I made our reservations at a place in Hood River, but now I'm questioning—maybe I need to also make one night reservations in The Dalles? Either that, or sweetie needs to haul me from HR to The Dalles.
Issue #45: we had talked about making this our first scooter trip. Hood River is about an hour away, The Dalles, maybe a half-hour further. It would be a great first trip, assuming no rain. But, if sweetie has to haul me, that means on one scooter. Is that too much excitement for race morning? Or, if we stay in The Dalles, sweetie has to haul all our stuff to HR. And does that mean we leave one scooter in HR? It's complicated!
There's the issue of making sure that I have enough fluids, so someone will have to provide support. Damn, that sucks. Sweetie isn't that crazy about races or crowds, so I hate to ask him. And I like being somewhat self-sufficient. And I guess I could if I got a super-huge backpack. Doesn't that sound like fun?
Anyways, this stuff is zapping my mental energy. That and a three hour meeting left me with a headache.
May 24, 2005
bike lust
I probably did more cycling yesterday than I have in 17 years. I rode in, of course, with the weird noise. I took it to my bike shop, and the guy looked at it immediately, quickly made a couple fixes, and mentioned that the place where I bought this would give me a free tune up and I should take advantage of that. Hmmm, they never told me that.
So, after he took the quick look-see, I took a look-see at the toownies. I've had a schoolgirl crush on them for awhile, but I had never ridden one. And. They had a girl-pink one. What more do I need, a lightning bolt? So I took it for a ride.
Damn. Damn. Damn. It was fun. I felt comfortable on slight hills, much better than on my bike. I loved the coaster brake. I just felt this feeling of freedom, which I haven't really had with my bike.
Afterwards, I retraced the route on my bike. Yeah, not as fun.
So I tell sweetie. He's well aware that immediately upon buying my current bike, I fell hard for the toownie, so he's like, let's go bike shopping tonight. And so after a fast dinner of pho, we went to the bike store.
The pink only comes in 3 speeds. So, I tried out the 21. The gearing didn't seem to be set up right, and it was unhappy climbing the Alameda hill. So I come back and try the pink. Actually, much better. Not that it isn't hard, but let's face facts, my bicycle fitness is not terribly high. I brought it back in as they were closing, with the I gotta sleep on it line. I can't wait to go back and get it. I might not, though that seems unlikely.
May 23, 2005
Just a flesh wound!
It doesn't matter how long the weekend is—it's never long enough. Oh well. Yesterday we purchased a shed which will be delivered in two weeks, which means we need to get a move on with cleaning out the area that the shed will go in. So much excitement!
Other than a shed, we also purchased the world's coolest peppergrinder, and a hedge trimmer. The hedge trimmer is my new favorite thing. It decimates like a weed whacker, but with precision. I very happily cleaned up an area which is nowhere near the shed location, and it looks great. We need to get another one, battery-operated so it makes less noise, because I'd like to get a little decimation into my mornings too!
I've already wounded myself, of course—no biggie, but it was a dramatic flesh wound all the same.
...
This morning I biked in. Blue skies, lovely, though a bit chilly. But my front tire was making a clicking noise. So much so that when I passed some homeless folk this morning, one guy yelled at me to get it in gear. Dude, it's already in gear. I'm sure it's something very obvious that will reveal me as the newbie I am, but I'm gonna bring it into the bike shop and let them deal with it.
May 22, 2005
PFit
Usually, after a long walk, I sleep like a baby, but not this time. My legs couldn't get comfortable, the cat was in my spot, blah blah blah—things that happen every night, and I usually can go right to sleep. So I was loathe to get up Saturday morning to go to PFit.
But I got up, and I got going, albeit, really really slowly.
I saw the faster walkers going out as I pulled up, and I coulda caught up with them, but I decided against it. Sure, I think I would have felt pretty good after I got the first couple blocks in, but I did do 21 miles the day before. So I parked the scoot and went over to help the main folks set up.
I helped out but there wasn't a lot to do right then. Holly came over and so we hung out and did her groups warmup, which was hardcore. There were these one-legged shiva squats—oh, my g-d, I don't think I'll ever be able to do those!
After they took off, I helped breakdown the tables and giant water containers, and put them in the truck so we could move them two blocks away. There are pluses and minuses to the new location, but I think having to set up and break down twice has to be a con. And then, we set up again.
We had talked about all going to get coffee, but once we got set up, people were beginning to come in, so the folks-in-charge stuck around, and Eric and I went to get coffee for all of us. I had never really chatted with him, even as he has been a hero to me forever. I remember during both of the long benchmarks last year, him riding by on his bicycle, checking on us slow-bots, which I so appreciated.
I told him about the Gorge Marathon and he was impressed. Immediately, I thought, shit, maybe I'm biting off more than I can chew here!
We brought back the drinks, and began setting up the t-shirts, and well, that's what I ended up doing for the next hour or so. We had womens shirts, which ran really small, and mens shirts, that ran rather true. The woman I was working with was wearing a women's XL—and she was tiny—while I was wearing a men's XL. So about every second minute or so, one of us would pipe up with "I'm/she's wearing a womens XL, and she's/I'm wearing a men's XL, so there is a bit of a difference".
It was comical. People would block others, trying on the shirts right in front of us. Or, they'd wear the shirts for a while, and then decide to try a different size (uuoooock!). Skinny people would ask for 2XLs, while fat people, who might not even fit in a 2XL, almost universally asked for an XL.
I finally ducked out to do a very gauche thing—to get a free 5 minute massage. I'm unclear whether us ACs get to take advantage of that, but I decided I would do it anyways. The massage tent was hosted by the folks from my sports chiro office, so my sports chiro worked on my calves. We talked about mechanics—did that calf tightness mean a muscle imbalance, and he said no, that it was probably just from a long hilly walk.
He introduced me to someone and said right off the bat that I was going to do the Gorge. Ack! The person said, wow, and my doc said, ah, VJ here is a machine! She'll have no trouble. Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
I stopped off to see Greg, the exercise guru, so we chatted a bit. I love seeing these guys outside of the office. I helped him break down his massage table, and then, all the PFit stuff was down too, so I took off. What a nice morning!
The long walk
Well, I did it. Not that it wasn't at points just completely non-sensical, but I did it.
I left the house at about 7 am. The sky looked promising, overcast, but edging towards sun rather than rain. I worked hard to go slow, and I was right on target for miles 2 and 3. After that I hadn't memorized the mile markers, so I was really on my own.
My rule of the day was ease. Go out easy. Stop at every restroom opportunity, whether I feel like I need to or not. Drink lots of water, and take my electrolytes and gu every hour. Enjoy the uphills rather than try to charge up them. And so that's really what I aimed at.
It sprinkled every now and again, but nothing bad. Until I got to Barbur Blvd, one of my big landmarks. It started pouring. I took refuge by a bank, and then it became clear that it would continue pouring indefinitely, I ran into a hardware store.
I love hardware stores, and this was a particularly good one. Which was good because it poured for a long time. It finally occured to me that I could get a garbage bag and wear it, and while the cashiers offered to just give me one, I decided in my own superstitious way that I should buy one. So I did buy a 10 pack, and immediately, the pouring slowed to the drizzle, and I set off. An hour later. Maybe. Maybe more.
I pass south of I-5, then through the neighborhoods, then past the grocery store and coffee shop, and then the sidewalks on my side of the street abruptly stops. There's a sidewalk across the street, but you have to cross the road with heavy, fast traffic and blind curves on both sides, so I stay along my shoulder and hope that not too many massive trailer-trucks whizz by.
I finally get to the 8 mile point, and then the bike trail. While parts of the Terwilliger paths are really beautiful, they have nothing on Tryon Creeks trails which are tremendously lush and gorgeous. At this point, I haven't even hit halfway and I'm flagging. The constant up and down of the rolling hills takes its' toll, and I'm sure shuffling around a hardware store for g-d only knows how long doesn't help either.
But anyways. The trail goes out of the forest, and along the road, next to really expensive housing. A million and a quarter. Man, am I outta place.
And just when I abandon hope that I'll ever come to Hwy 43, there I am, and workers are planting flowers at the junction. I want to celebrate somehow that I've made it halfway, seeming so much longer than 10.5 miles, but there is nothing there but road and municipal gardeners and so I head back up hill. Getting to this point has taken a little less than 5 hours.
The next couple miles are a bit much. The work crew is out in their little four-wheeled truck, wanting to pass me, and then pass me again on the bike trail. I get out of the park and I trudge further up the hill, thinking that suburbia here is so soulless. Then I pass a house, no doubt a student house for the nearby college that has a banner on the side:
Budweiser warmly welcomes you to 9XXX SW Terwilliger Parkway
and I think, maybe this isn't so bad after all. Promptly, less than a mile later, the skies open and thunder crackles. I take shelter under a flower shop's awning, but the ladies inside insist that I come inside too.
They all think I'm clearly insane that I still need to walk back to NE Portland (but dear, the buses will start running again soon—that'll get you downtown). Maybe I am insane. Suddenly I realize that the grocery is 2, maybe 3 blocks away, and I could get lunch there. So I thank the ladies and headoff.
It's still pouring and still thundering and lightning, so I move as fast as possible to the grocery. Once inside, I'm sort of baffled and overcome by options. So I order a half a sandwich and collect three bottles of sm@rt water, and once I start eating, I'm ravenous. I will never be full! I decide, in a moment of clarity, to just eat my sandwich and call it good.
The rain lets up and I head out again. I'm driven at this point -- looking forward to the landmarks: Barbur Blvd.; the picnic tables at Nebraska Street; Capitol Hwy; the Chart House; the Marquam trail; the VA; Casey Eye Institute; and crossing 405 into downtown. Everything aches, but at this point I'm reminded that the game is all mental. I can dwell on the aches and pains, or I can stay a layer above it, focused on the goal.
I think about my dad. Poor guy was in constant pain the last four years of his life, and he ate painkillers like I used to eat ibupr0fen. But, he didn't let the pain get him down, as the commercials say. Painkillers helped, but didn't make it go away. His ability to meet goals and his attitude, were all focused above the pain. When you saw him, and didn't know him, you wouldn't have necessarily known that he was in pain. Hell, even I forgot, and would suggest we do something, and he would very gently remind me that he wasn't feeling that great. Gosh I miss him.
My last pitstop is at the Portland Visitors Association. As I am walking in, I walk by a crazy-eyed street person, teeth gone from meth, with a boombox blasting country music. As I walk inside, I mentally thank g-d that I'm not her, and that hopefully I won't see her again. So, of course, who ends up in the stall next to me but insane-meth-country-boombox-blaster. Her boombox seems earsplittingly loud, and the music feels like a grater on my feet. So I put back on my ipod and turned it up, which just ended up leaving me with a cacophony, but gave me the sense that maybe I had some control.
I finally got home, 10 hours after I started. 10 hours! I did the marathon in 9, and had a major breakdown, for heaven sakes! Oh well. Part of me thinks it was more than 21 miles all told, but I won't find out anytime soon—I won't go out and ride it with the bike and a cyclometer. And, I guess the question is, how much longer does it take for me to do rolling hills than flat?
The results? The tops of my feet are swollen in places. My hands didn't even swell. Otherwise, I'm as good as new. And, I ended up with no crunchy covering of salt at any point—that has to be a first.
May 19, 2005
Tomorrow's walk
So, I went out this evening and mapped out tomorrow's route. To get an out and back of 21 miles requires me to go from my place in NE Portland to Lake Oswego. Really!
So here's the plan, Stan. I'll hopefully get out there at the crack of dawn. Cross the Broadway Bridge, take Broadway down to Terwilliger, and Terwilliger down to the Lewis & Clark Law School (where the sidewalks mysteriously end). From there I'll take Law School-Lake Oswego bike trail that goes through Tryon Creek State Park. And I'll take that til it ends at Hwy 43 in Lake Oswego.
For whatever reason, Lake Oswego seems really far away. Who knew it was only 10.5 miles away?
The weather for tomorrow: Overcast with rain showers at times. High 62F. Winds SSW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 60%.
Who knows what that will mean, really. This evening, we got home from work and it was gorgeous, so I hauled the scooter out of the backyard (which is getting harder and harder as the yard becomes a soupbowl of mud), and then came back in to eat a snack. At one point, I heard a noise outside... and it was pouring. Hopefully I don't have that to look forward to.
Me, drinking beer
There is so much I could say. The counters, for example, still look gorgeous, even though we have a new ant invasion (into our tea cupboard! Ack!). Allegro kicked my ass as usual. I am so looking forward to a day off! There was a great article about some folks who bought a courtyard apartment building, and turned it into inexpensive (for Portland) cooperative condos for their friends and like-minded souls, like my dream of redoing a seminary or convent, only way better.
But instead, I offer you a picture of me drinking beer at my coworkers retirement party. I particularly like it—I look so happy.
May 18, 2005
cleaning and stress
This is what happens when you bicycle wearing a dress.
I brought in a dozen magazines to leave with coworkers and the gym. I filled the backseat of the car with things to go to Goodwill, and then, gasp! I took them to Goodwill! And this morning I did a load of dishes, scrubbing down the counters. Let me repeat that. I removed all the dirty dishes, I put them in the dishwasher, I turned the dishwasher on, and then I scrubbed down the counters. Wuhoo!
This mania (I say with the common usage of the term, not the psychiatric usage) caused me to be late. But hey, I've put in a lot of extra time lately, so no big deal. Yes, big deal. Sigh. I guess the previous coming in super-early and working through lunches and sometimes even staying late doesn't count. Don't get me started.
Friday's forecast shows showers. Yep, walking 21 miles in showers sounds better than work, yep.
Anyways. I'm bound to win friends and influence others with my schedule today: an allegro class, then a going away lunch for one of my best work pals. My allegro instructor scolded me on Monday, reminding me not to come in exhausted today. Let's see how that goes. I tried my best to underdo it in mat pilates last night, but my calves are screaming in pain. They've been screaming since Monday's class actually.
May 17, 2005
biking!
I don't know what got into me this morning, but I decided to ride the bike to work, even though rain is forecast and the skies are threatening.
As is my wont, I wore a dress today. I especially love wearing skirts or dresses while on two-wheeled vehicles. (I would love to find leg armour that would not ruin the look of a skirt on the scooter!) That, and now that I only have one pair of pants to wear to work, and I wore them yesterday and got them dirty, um, I had to wear a skirt or a dress.
The dress is one I bought probably 15 years ago. At K-M@rt. For less than 15 bucks. For reasons that elude me, it always gets compliments.
Today's ride was incredibly pleasant. I took the usual straight route to work, but I didn't feel like I was working so hard so much of the time, and I was able to ride in lower gears for most of it. And I never hit the highest gear, wuhoo!
But, I kept feeling the dress get caught. By the time I got to NE Holliday, right before the Steel Bridge, I stopped, and saw that not only was my dress caught, but at this point it had a big black hole near the hem from where it was getting caught in the brake.
I don't know why, but my reaction was pure joy.
So once I got to work, I wandered around looking for people who would appreciate the hole in my dress. It was a great ride!
May 16, 2005
sore toes
The deeper I get into the week, the more I think that I will take a day to de-stress and walk later in the week. It's been crazy, and realistically, it's all my own stress—nobody is making me think about work most of the time, and nobody is making me come in early and stay late. I just know that it's not helping me get out of my funk. As if I knew how.
I went to mat pilates today. It was good. It was super hard. My feet, for some reason, were killing me, especially as we did toe raises (you know, going up on your toes). Between that and my calves, man, I was a wuss. But as usual, spending an hour being told what to do, and that doing being very hard, made me feel like someone had showered out my mind. I was much more calm and focused when I went back to work.
I scooted into work this morning because of the dentist appointment. Oh gosh, the dentist. I am so sick of the dentist. It was rather good, though—I told my dentist directly that I was going to fire her if her front office continued being such flakes, constantly canceling appointments the morning of and rescheduling appointments, like almost every time.
I stopped and got some coffee, which wouldn't fit on my "dashboard", so I put it in the back box. Of course, when I got to work, the back box was a bowl of coffee.
And on the way home, I forgot to bring home the new walking shoes. Ugh. Tomorrow, hopefully.
Whiney
Well, I ended up doing 10 or 12 miles yesterday. Not too much.
Initially, it started out really nice. It was cool and drizzy, and I was doing the short end of the Terwilliger Hill. The wooded hills and drop-offs was gorgeous, and there weren't many folks out. I had parked my scoot at the Chart House, and had a supply of water in my collapsable cooler under the seat.
I had planned to do 20 miles. The thought was to do the Sheridan to Capitol Hwy loop of Terwilliger twice, and then do the Marquam trail up to Wildwood and back. I figured it was doable — there are several restrooms on Terwilliger, and I could go get more water from the scooter as I needed it.
I noticed a sign that said "SW Trails 1" -- does that mean, SW Trails, 1 mile away. Or a trail that is a mile long? Or that this is trail #1? Who knows? I decided to go down it.
The trail went down someone's driveway, and then along a series of public stairs descending down the hill.
WARNING: Okay, it's about to get ugly here. If you don't like graphic discussions of bodily mis-functions, do not select the black box with your mouse because it really doesn't get any better.
At one point, I had a choice: continue down the stairs, or take the plywood ramp. I'm trying to do new things, so I went down the ramp. And I slipped and fell right on my ass. In the mud. And peed myself.
Feeling completely humiliated, I look around. No one anywhere in sight. I'm covered with mud, and I'm probably the only one who knows the worst of it. Ick.
While I'm sitting there, I consider my options. I could go home and change my clothes. But would I come back out walking? I've done less than 3 miles at this point. Who am I kidding, of course I wouldn't come back out walking.
I am still vacillating about the Gorge Marathon. I want to do it, but am I ready to do it? If I don't get 20 miles done in the next couple of days, planning on doing the marathon is a gamble.
So, as awful and humiliated as I feel, I decide to soldier on. And to make a stop at the Y.
The Y is only five or six blocks away. I'm not a member, but maybe they will take pity on me? And they do. So, I'm able to use the washroom and wash up.
This is the way it started. Sigh. And really, I do pretty good until I realize, on the second Terwilliger loop, that I'm running out of water. I'm supposed to get on the Marquam and do my 10 miles. With just the 20 oz of water I have on me. Stoopid, stoopid, stoopid. So I decide to go past the Marquam, up to the Chart House, and get some water. Though of course, once I get to the Chart House, there is no doubling back.
I was never so happy to take my icebath and warm shower.
...
This has been such a crazy stressful couple of weeks. And I had another absolutely enjoyable visit with my dentist this morning. If I can just get my work done (or not, maybe), I'm thinking maybe I'll take a mental health day. And maybe see if I can't crank a long walk out then.
May 15, 2005
Distances for some routes in the SW Hills...
Terwilliger Hills
Starting at SW Sheridan & Terwilliger south to Barbur Blvd.
4 miles one way or 8 round-trip
Marquam Trail
Terwilliger to Wildwood Trail
5 miles
Vista Hill
Starting at the Goose Hollow/SW Jefferson MAX stop.
South on 18th, west on Market, south on Vista...
at Montgomery (.5 miles)
at Vista Springs Cafe (1 mile)
at Montgomery & Patton (1.5 miles)
gas station at Dosch & Patton (2 miles)
Health Food Energy Products
It's time for another installment of Health Food Energy Products, where VJ tries them, so you don't have to.
Bumble Bar Organic Energy (original with Almond). With a name like Bumble Bar, I hope I can be forgiven for hoping that it would be like a Bit 'O Honey. This is a gluten-free, and vegan product, so no honey here, honey. Mostly, this tasted like sesame seeds with bit of nuts mixed in. Not unpleasant, but a little odd.
Would I eat it again? Yes.
Tofurky Jurky. I have always wanted, but have never tried, a Tofurky, the vegan turkey substitute. When I saw the jurky in the coop, I had to get it. Basically, the package has about 8 slices of jurky, which was plenty for me to snack on. It has a great smokey flavor, all the way til the end. The texture, however, is hard to be crazy about—it's just not right.
Would I eat it again? Yes.
May 14, 2005
Funk
Today's been kinda a rough day. I had a rough night, and woke up on time to begin my long day of walking, but then my belly would not cooperate. After missing the window of time to walk to PFit, and then missing the window to ride to PFit, I went back to bed in a funk.
I know I should just dig in and do it. I know that's the party line. But sometimes this all seems like too much. If I do a 21 miler as a LSD, that's 7 hours of walking, plus the ice bath, plus the nap and the eating, and it will take up all the time given to it.
I have two days off. I have PFit one day. It doesn't feel like a lot of time to recooperate from the workweek, get the yard work done, get the errands run, buy groceries. How do other people do this??
And let's face facts, it's a whole lot easier to do a long walk or run with someone else.
I'm back to my long-standing internal discussion. Should I be training for marathons, or halves? Halves are easy, they're humane, and even I can get a 14 mile walk in, but where's the glory in that? I think about the Gorge Marathon, and I have to admit, I'm infatuated by the thought of the hilly beautiful course. Though not infatuated enough to get out for a 21-miler today.
So today, we went out for breakfast at a cute place called the Industrial Cafe and Saloon. We waited over an hour for our breakfast—mine was okay, but sweetie's was overcooked and featured canned mushrooms. As well, the service kinda sucked. They comped us, which was the only redeeming feature to the meal.
After that, we did some scooting... to the library, to sketch out some walks. Coming back from one, we encountered a motorcycle being pushed up an exit ramp—out of gas. So I pulled over, and agreed to give the cyclist's girlfriend a ride to the gas station. The cyclist asked if he could take sweetie's Stella, and to my huge surprise, he agreed. So off we went. It all got a little crazy after we took off from the gas station, and the cyclist on the Stella was nowhere to be seen. Oh dear. So I take the girlfriend back to the Harley, and we wait. He comes tooling up maybe five minutes later, with mud-marks on the sides, and a fresh dent in the Stella. Oh, great. He then announces that he needs to pee and wades into the front yard we've parked in front of, which seemed like the best time to get the hell outta dodge.
There are times, you know, when you want to believe that the media is feeding you a pack of lies, and you don't need to be afraid of other people. And then something like this happens, and you feel like you should have known better, you should have rolled up your windows and looked away. There are times, you know, where you don't want to be the suburban-raised middle-class white girl—you want to trust that others aren't going to screw you over.
I've been dying, for weeks, to take someone for a ride. I finally got to. The girlfriend looked like she weighed 90# soaking wet. I didn't notice any difference in the ride at all!
May 13, 2005
pleasure and work
Last night I cooked. It was great. I should do it more often!
I've really been wanting to cook lately, and it's really been a long time since I've made something from scratch that isn't, umm, tuna and beans, or quesadillas. So last night I made lemon linguine, a Nigella Lawson recipe that is super-fast and super-good. So I felt sated and satisfied when I went to pilates.
I haven't been to a single pilates class all week, so last night's class was tough. But good. I had a great time, worked hard, and got into it.
And this morning, I rode my bike into work. It was great. I was leisurely, I took detours and pictures and just generally had a good time. And it felt really good.
And then I got to work and have been on a dead run ever since.
Today has just been stressful. I am looking so forward to the weekend. I'd really like to do some heavy work, maybe beginning to put down the stone in the yard? Nothing is scheduled, nothing is happening save my 21 mile-and-PFit thang tomorrow.
May 12, 2005
surprise!
I rode the route from home to PFit this morning: 3 miles, short a block, according to the scooter odometer. Gosh, it's so much fun riding the scooter.
...
So I had a really disturbing dream last night. I dreamt I was pregnant. We were about to throw a big house party when I realized that my water was about to break, which, huh? I guess I'm pregnant! How could I have gone 9 months and not noticed?
(Mind you, I know that there are women who have not noticed they were pregnant until they gave birth, but still! And I have no idea how you'd know that your water was about to break—maybe you just know when it happens?)
So, I'm thinking about it. Yeah, I guess about 7 months ago, I went through this weird nauseous period. Man, I guess it was a bad idea to have been partying so hard the last couple months (dreams, gotta love em. I can't remember the last time I partied hard—I am so middle-aged!).
Everyone, however, is very supportive. Sweetie, supportive. Dad (making a cameo—hi, Dad!), supportive. Mom, supportive. All of our friends, supportive.
That's when I woke up. Dang.
At first, I was like, what is that about? And then I remembered. I've mentioned to several co-workers that I'm covering for another coworker who is out on maternity leave—and invariably, the response is, 'Oh, I had no idea she was pregnant'. Sometimes, the person will go on to mention another fat woman in the office who recently had a child, and how they didn't know that she was pregnant either.
And these women, of course, are my size. I mean, in general. And they are both attractive, stylish women, as well as fat.
Mind you, maybe because I was paying attention, I could tell they were pregnant. They didn't look like they had big bellies, and wide hips—it looked like they were carrying their own Egg around in its' specially designed carrying case. And yes, they also had bellies and hips.
I'm not sure what to think of it, but it's just (obviously) on my mind.
May 11, 2005
All things being equal
Exhaustion is the shortest way to equality.
—Nietzsche
do it now!
Death is not the greatest loss in life, the greatest loss in life is that which dies inside us while we're alive.
—Norman Cousins
better and cranky
I'm feeling better this morning—like I actually have a little energy—but also a bit down. I've been going into work early-early and working through my lunches to work on a project that's due on Friday, and this afternoon, I'll spend the whole time in meetings. What a waste. That three-and-a-half hours could make a huge difference. Like between whether I have to take work home tonight and tomorrow night. Oh well.
I found out last night that I won't be doing the Willamette Valley Relay. It wasn't my decision, natch—there's just not enough folks to form a non-competitive team. I wouldn't have thought that this would bum me out so much, but I am really actively grieving this. I am so very sad.
Mind you, I am still doing the Portland to Coast with the Librarians on the Loose (great name, n'est-ce que pas?), but that's not as immediate. And I only know one person on the team.
...
Last night wasn't too much better. I was feeling not terribly energetic so I didn't go to mat pilates—I was afraid it would wipe me out and set me back. Thursday, g-ds willing, if I don't have to take work home.
We ran some errands, including going to the mall. I don't go very often, and I remembered why after going. Basically, I have one pair of pants that fit that I can wear to work. I have jeans that fit, but they don't meet our dress code. Since I've gotten lucky recently at le T@rget, I went back. Sigh. In plus sizes, they have ugly pants—that are all cropped. Grrr. That's useful.
And I had that unfortunate experience. You're sitting on the bench in the dressing room, across from the mirror. You're leaning over, putting on your shoes. And you're just a series of large rolls. Okay, so only two large rolls, the breasts (which we'll refer to as one unit), and the belly. I manage to avoid self-loathing most of the time, but with that sight, it's hard.
At that point, I hate everything. The clothes I'm wearing now (which are my old-standard work pants, that now fit like clown pants, with a blouse [note to self: put them both in the Goodwill bag]), my haircut, my haircolor, my face, my belly, and of course, the accursed breasts.
In that moment, I lose grasp of all of the progress I've made in the last year. I know I've made progress. And the fact that I went home and drank fizzy water while reading rather than eating chips and guacamole and drinking beer—that's progress too. Sigh. I just want instant gratification. Or gratification that's faster than what I'm getting.
I know I'm on the right road. I'm not having to diet to maintain the new weight, though I'm going to have to find the wagon and get on to get to the next new weight.
May 10, 2005
dreaming of running
It happened again. I dreamt about running. It was effortless, it was fun, it was that feeling of control and effort and skill, awareness and ease. I dreamt I was walking with someone, and we crossed a street at the stoplight. When we got across the street, we ran, like children. Down brick sidewalks, through arches, up and down stairs.
When I was a kid, I ran everywhere. Or I rode my bike at top speed. My dad was constantly telling me to slow down, and to stop running. And when I drive, I'm a leadfoot. So it's ironic that I'm so slow walking, cycling, even running.
I'm feeling a little better today, though not exactly high-energy. I walked for about five minutes this morning, and it wore me out. Going down five flights of stairs for a cup of coffee also winded me for about 10 minutes. And hips and arms still ache. And my brain—a little foggy.
But I've had some success wrangling some PHP, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to delegate some work and get myself out of a bit of the work stress I've been under.
I've been trying to figure out how I will get this 21 miler in this weekend. I figured I could walk to PFit Saturday morning, which at tops is 4 miles. We'll be doing 9 miles in PFit. Okay, so that's 13 miles down, 8 to go. Okay, and if I walk back home, another 4 miles, which leaves 4 miles left to do. So, if I do an out for 40 minutes and back for 40 minutes, there's the 21 miles. Let's see if I actually manage this.
To add to the potential fun, there's a racewalking seminar scheduled for right after PFit. I know if I do the racewalking seminar, I'm going to be hard pressed to do the rest of the 21 miler. But I'd really like to do the racewalking seminar.
...
While I think my body is still reshaping, I have so fallen off the weightloss wagon, and I need to find the wagon and jump back on. I've been stuck at my plateau, and really not trying to move past it. I know the rules: decrease empty calories, increase activity. But knowing the rules and actually acting on them is another thing altogether.
I'd love to lose a few pounds by June 5. It'd be good to have less weight to carry up and down all those hills!
May 9, 2005
Monday
So, it's the day after, and I'm feeling wrecked. I think that's more from the flu than from the event, but still. There we are.
Yesterday as I was doing the Hippie Chick, I was comparing it to the last walking event I did, the 31K AVA walk. At the AVA walk, I noticed very little trash. None of this quarter mile of abandoned paper cups after an aid station, bits of wrappers all over the place.
Whereas, at the Champoeg 30K, I threw my first paper cup on the ground ever, being practically shamed into doing it by a volunteer.
Still, I don't know that I've ever felt that relaxed in a race. If the volkswalk enabled that, than that's really good. Though maybe I was too relaxed. Oh well.
It looks like the next race is the Gorge Marathon. Yesterday, I had lots of doubts on if it's doable. It's hilly. It's 26.2 miles. But if I can do the 21 miler this weekend, I should be in good shape. I just gotta do it.
May 8, 2005
Hippie Chick Half Race Report
I felt better than yesterday, but on the whole, not so great. I called my mom to wish her a happy Mother's Day, and she told me I should DNS (do not start). Of course, she didn't put it that way, but she was adamant that I shouldn't race when I'm sick. Which is probably true.
Outside it was drizzling. Oh good. But this was Hippie Chick, and Lori had given up her place for me, and 175 women were on the waiting list, so I had to go.
I didn't get excited until I was in the car. But man, I was excited. Suddenly, I had that old race fever again. And the drizzle had stopped.
Hippie Chick takes place at Champoeg State Park (remember, say it shampoo-ey), so about 45 minutes from home. I lead-footed it all the way, so I made it in an insane 25 minutes, which gave me time to catch up with Mark and Hollie. I had been planning to hit the head before the race, but there were lines around both the men's and women's entrances to the restrooms, so I decided I'd make it up on the road.
Stupid thing number one: I walked across the field to the start line, rather than taking the longer route down the path. As soon as I got a couple feet into the field, it was clear this was a really bad idea. By the time I got to the start, my socks and shoes were soaked.
Anyhow, we start. I begin walking with another PFitter, and we chat for about the first mile or so, then she takes off. I'm suddenly feeling really good, and I'm having a hard time holding it in. The weather couldn't be better (though the moss on the bike trails makes it a little slick).
I see some old coworkers on the sidelines so I stop and say hi, catch up a little bit. Then I run into some of the PFit coaches and I stop and chat with them for a few minutes. The whole first half of the half was fluid and glorious: I stop, I slow down, I speed up, it's wonderful.
As I come in to end loop one and begin loop two, I spotted the volunteer who looked after me at the last race at Champoeg. I smiled and said hi, though he didn't appear to recognize me. Maybe because I didn't look like I was at death's door?
All during loop one, I thought about doing three loops so I'd do just short of 19 miles. But once I got out in loop two, it was clear I wasn't going to be doing that. I could feel the lactic acid buildup, and was having a hard time doing the appropriate hip swivel. But I kept chugging along.
I really like it when I hold back enough early that I can really push it at the end and finish really strong. No such luck this time. I did manage a negative split, but I was really feeling it (and questioning the whole Gorge Marathon thing again), and by the time Hollie slipped the medal over my head, I was ready to just go back to the car and have my chocolate milk (which unfortunately was spoiled, in spite of multiple icepacks in the cooler).
My official time was 3:49. So, no PR, natch, but I think it was respectable considering everything: my stopping to chat, the dumb bug I have, my complete and utter inability to control myself. In Austin, I did 3:41 and my last best PR had been 3:53.
Tonight, after an icebath and a nap and a dinner at Fryer Tucks (bad idea, very bad idea), my legs aren't feeling too bad, but my arms—damn, my arms are sore. Several women actually commented on how good my arm action was. I feel like I could sleep for a couple of days.
May 7, 2005
Ugh!
I woke up this morning with a sore throat. Damn it, I'm contagious, and I can't afford to get sick. I can't miss work. I don't want to miss Hippie Chick. Ack!!
May 6, 2005
predictable
I am so predictable. So, for Hippie Chick, you can pick up your packet today, tomorrow or before the race. I thought about going over there at 10 when they opened. VJ, calm down, calm down already. So showing incredible restraint, I left at work at 1, got stuck with a bridge up, etc.
I went in armed with my psedonym (hi, I'm Lori, I'm 43, and I run an 8 minute mile), but Hollie was in, working for the organizer, and she totally blew my cover. It's just as well—nobody is going to look at me and think an 8 minute mile is plausible. And, the results will be under my name which is good, because at some point in the future I'd look for my results and freak right out not finding my name.
After a disappointing lunch, I'm back at work. Hydrating like a maniac. Working like a maniac. Hoping to get enough done so I won't have to bring work home. But I'm feeling a bit lighter.
diffuse
I'm having another down day. I feel wore out. I've had the same low-grade headache for a couple days now.
You know when you need to do something, but you're afraid in trying to big-picture make things better that you might really make things worse (big or little picture)? That's where I am. I need to find some courage and do what needs to be done. But I'm afraid I might not be equal to this.
I suspect getting some exercise might help, give me some clarity. But of course, I'm not making the time to get my endorphin rush. I feel like I'm on a dead run. Without the endorphin rush.
Focus on the good, VJ, focus on the good. Okay. Yesterday a couple of us went down to the Cinco de Mayo Festival. It's a typical Portland "festival" with booths for corn dogs, german sausages, pizza, asian noodles, kettle corn, and other typically Mexican treats. But there are a couple good booths there that make it worthwhile. At Mister Taco, we got huaraches, puposas, and a lengua taco, yum! At La Flor de Michocan, we got gorditas and a torta, and at Salvador Bakery, a fresa con crema (strawberries with ready-whip) and some baked things.
The food was good, and it's fun to get to try all sorts of things. But really, the company was the best. Someone who I haven't seen for awhile was there, and hugged me several times. That was very good—right now I have a high capacity and need for hugs.
My darling is still sick. Poor guy, I am worried about him. I'm looking forward to the weekend, to have a little time to take care of him.
May 5, 2005
Vive!
So, it's Thursday on my week of rollercoastering. Today I'm better. I can hear. It took me all afternoon, but I finally got my ears cleaned out.
Weird fact: liquid stool softener is an excellent wax softener.
Today I'm a little tired, and worried a bit about my darling who is home sick today. He's a lousy patient, or I would try to stay home and take care of him. But I have so much work that I should never leave my desk again. Sigh!
May 4, 2005
purpose
I am losing my mind. My ears are clogged with wax, and they've both sealed shut this morning. I can hear, sorta, but I can't tell which direction sounds are coming from, and I can't differentiate noises. I have a call in to the doc and I'm just waiting on pins and needles.
I had plans tonight to go out with the food group for a fancy meal on the west side—but if my ears are like they are now, I won't be able to do it. My ability to hear in a noisy situations is not really good anyways, and this will add insult to injury.
(Hurrah! I just got an appointment with the doc for this afternoon!!!)
Okay, now I'm feeling like life is just a little bit less desperate.
Last night was the first night of the new mat pilates session, and true to form, our instructor made it super-super hard. I had been not looking forward to class, but I really really enjoyed it and worked very hard. But, by the time I got home, my abs were already aching, so I did something new. I iced them! Got out two packages of chiropractic ice and put them one on each side of my belly. I do ache less this morning, but I really coulda used an ice bath. For pilates! Yow!!
Suddenly, the next four or five months are coming into focus. Hippie Chick is Sunday. I am going to do the Gorge Marathon, no backing out, and I'm hoping sweetie can come with and we can have a romantic weekend in Hood River. It looks like I'm going to do two relays this summer, the Willamette Valley and Portland to Coast. And, of course, there will be other events too -- perhaps Helvetia Half, probably the Foot Traffic Fast Flat Half, the Columbia Classic. I'm filled with purpose again!
May 3, 2005
better
Thanks for the kind words, guys. I'm feeling more human this morning after indulging myself and going to bed really early.
We got lucky—the exterminator comes today! So I need to do a pile of housecleaning (mostly hauling clothing hither and thither) before I can go to work and/or the dentist. Oh boy! I'm pleased, though. The back of my car is almost full of bags to go to Goodwill.
And, it does look like I'm scoring an entry to Hippie Chick. Yay, I'm actually going to do a race this weekend—a half, my favorite distance! I'm so excited! It's a whole lot easier to get excited about a race rather than illegal walking the route of a race or setting up my own g-dawful unending route.
May 2, 2005
off Island
I'm having a grade-A bad day today, so I'm just popping in to say hi, and hope you all are keeping your heads above water.
It began just as generalized sadness, but it went rapidly downhill.
The one good thing, that actually made me cry with joy, is that I might have a lead on a slot for the Hippie Chick.
It was very sad taking the coffee maker, which after several days of being repeated dowsed with boiling water is still crawling with ants, out to the trash. Like the end of an era.
I guess I'm getting a rep at work as the crazy walking woman. The receptionist asked me how far I had walked, and I said, "nothing, I just did 7 miles", in a very disappointed voice. She pointed out that lots of people have never walked that far. Yep, I suppose. It doesn't make me feel any better though.
May 1, 2005
hal-an-tow
Life is uncertain. Don't sip.
—from a bottle of Lagunitas Sirius (A Hi-Gravity Cream Ale)
I forgot that today was May Day until I was out in the middle of G-d's country on a scooter ride today. We took the back roads, including the Historic Columbia River Highway, to Bull Run (Portland's water supply), around Roslyn Lake, and then to Sandy, all in the foothills of Mount Hood. Damn. Gorgeous. Sweetie spotted eagles, I almost hit a chipmunk.
We stopped at a Harley bar in Sandy, and the Harley guys were quite kind to us, as I've almost always found motorcycle folks to be. Our group was about 25 strong, about half vintage-style scooter-riders, and the rest plastic, with a couple motorcyclists along for the ride. I was surprised, actually, at the number of 50cc bikes. There were also a couple 400cc Burgmans.
It was a great ride. But, by the end of it, my rear and other parts of me were very unhappy. Is it my seat? Who knows? But it was a great day. We found a new, great cafe in the neighborhood, we went on a lovely ride and met some new folks, and did some housecleaning.
...
It's been kinda a lowkey weekend. I got a fair amount done on Friday. And then the calamity hit.
We've been seeing ants in the house. No swarms, just scouts out wandering around, and very few of them. So Friday night, Sweetie goes in the kitchen and sees a line of ants leading to the coffee maker. A little closer observation reveals that the ants are carrying eggs... into the coffee maker. Many, many many of them.
Initially, we are both calm, until we realize that they are nesting in the coffee maker. And then I become hysterical and practically inconsolable. The new coffee maker, our holiday gift to us, is now history.
On Saturday, Sweetie talks to the exterminator, and tells him the long sad story in the hopes of getting him to come immediately. But it seems that a lot of people in Portland are having problems with ants. "That's a new one", he says. "Usually they nest in the dishwasher". Oough!
....
So, without the benefit of caffeine, I got to PFit superearly, as one person had asked to go out early, and several of coaches and I volunteered to go out. The week before, 8 people had gone out early, so I expected that we might have a clump. Wrong. It was just us, hanging out. Not unpleasant, but it would have been nice to have gotten a bit more sleep, or a cup of coffee.
My experience with PFit continues to shift and change. This time I wore an assistant coach shirt, and many many people introduced themselves to me (ooh, hope I can remember names—I'm so bad with names). I had decided that I would do 14 miles after our 7 miles, so I went out slow and ended up with one of the back-of-the-packers. She has been in PFit for a number of years and has never made it past 9 miles. That breaks my heart!
And while I am fond of walking slow, I think I have identified too slow. To go as slow as I needed to, I needed to have bad form, not move my arms, not really stand up straight. When I assumed good race walking form, I immediately sped up. To put it bluntly, it hurt to walk slow!
It gave me lots of time for thinking. Among other things, I thought about whether I wanted to do the upcoming racewalking sessions and retreat, and part of me was thinking that speed was overrated. And part of me is still questioning the whole walking thing—like, why am I doing this?
And then I started thinking, well, I'm always a bit loopy after a long walk, maybe I shouldn't have to drive the scooter back home. And maybe I should just stop and have a cup of coffee and something to eat and then do the 14 miles. And in this way, I never did the 14 miles. I came back home and immediately felt sucky, and went to bed. Stoopid.
...
I saw Double Dare last night. Great movie! It made me want to do cartwheels and drive fast and do high jumps. Wuhoo! Cross-fit!
