Big Sur Half Marathon Race Report

In mid-November I ran the Eighth Presentation of the Big Sur Half Marathon on Monterey Bay. This was a later addition to my race calendar; my sis and bro-in-law were coming to town for an event that ended up getting canceled so we took advantage of our vacation times and went to Monterey for the weekend. And since the timing was right, I registered for one of my favorite races in one of my favorite towns. I ran this half marathon in 2003, 2004 and 2005 and enjoyed myself each time.

In the days leading up to the race I was thinking I might end up with a DNS. My knee had been bothering me, and sometimes even walking was a pain. It was sporadic and unreliable and I wasn't going to take any chances of permanent harm (assuming that permanent harm hadn't already occurred). We did a lot of walking and took a hike the day before the race and my knee was slightly swollen and sore. Uh oh.

This year we stayed at the Hotel Pacific, a wonderfully odd conglomeration of buildings thrown together to make an all-suite hotel. We had great mini-suites next to each other on the top floor of one of the end buildings, away from the street. Little did I know that being on the top (4th) floor would give us clear access to hearing the sea lion barking frenzy each night. It was so incredibly annoying that it finally was just funny hearing the loud exclamations from the local wildlife all night long.

The expo was held at the Conference Center right across the street from our hotel, very convenient. We went there Friday afternoon and packet pickup was very quick and efficient. Race shirts were tech fabric; gray for men and a purplish-red for women and as usual, their XL women's shirt was too small for me. Since I expected that, I wasn't upset (I haven't yet gotten a BSIM shirt that fits). The timing chip was the disposable D-tag that so many races are using these days.

back of shirt

front of shirt

The expo was so complete that my sis and I managed to shop 'til we dropped - a bad habit we have when together at race expos. One thing I bought that ended up being wonderful was a pair of 2XU compression calf guards. Sis had a pair of their tights and was singing their praises so I decided to fork out the pile of dough and give them a try. This turned out to be a great idea. I also got a good deal on Gu and one or two (or four) other things.

Race morning dawned very early for me after being kept awake all night by exclaiming sea lions. I had no idea how my knee was going to react so I decided I could bail out at any point with no regrets, even if it was before the race started. Since it was supposed to get warm I dressed in my running skirt and the new compression calf sleeves. I topped that with a long sleeve shirt and throw-away gloves, and my usual hat and buffs. I thought about wearing a disposable poncho but already at that hour it was warm enough not to.

The course had a little revision since I had last run it, mostly having to do with placement of the start. Instead of being right outside the hotel it was a couple of blocks away, nearer the Bay. That gave me the chance to walk and feel out my knee. So far, so good.

My corral was towards the back, as usual. I had hoped to be seeded before the majority of the walkers and that ended up happening. Of course, there were walkers scattered throughout the crowd but that always happens when you use the honor system to give your estimated finish time (I'm not sure if there's any other way to do it). I stood around, watching the sun rise, watching the very energetic crowd, and waited for the start.

The crowd of about 6,000 people started off fast at the gun. Despite being way back in the "H" corral I was across the start very quickly. I ran at the side, determined to go carefully and slowly and trying to see how my knee was reacting. Still fine. We made a little loop around a park with a lake, through downtown, back past the hotel. I had thought this would be where my race would finish but my leg felt surprisingly good so I continued on. One thing that helped was the crowd was thin enough that I wasn't having to jig and jag around people everywhere.

We ran to and along Cannery Row, on Oceanview and then up the hill to Pacific Grove and Lighthouse Avenue. The Pacific Grovians were out in force (including, I think, the mayor) and we got a very warm welcome. Neighbors were on their porches watching or cheering, drinking their morning brews and wishing us well. I was still running with restraint, still feeling good. We headed back down the hill to the water. Memories of my first triathlon floated through my head. Glad this run didn't involve swimming in kelp!

The next part of the race was out-and-back along the Bay, exactly the same as the cycle portion of the triathlon. From Oceanview to Sunset Drive, watching the faster runners going the opposite direction. The course is a little rolling here, with a definite upgrade in the outward bound direction. At the top of the hill at the turnaround, about 7-1/2 miles, they had a bottle refill station. This is something I haven't seen at any race before and was a welcome addition. Since I'm so poky I always carry my own bottle and fill it with my own Ultima Replenisher and course water. Often this means stopping to pour water from several cups into the bottle. This time there was a crier with warnings of the upcoming station, giving me enough time to pull out the bottle and the Ultima packet. Another volunteer walked along side of me and poured water from a pitcher into the bottle so I didn't have to stop. Very nice.

I felt good at the half, very good indeed. My knee didn't feel exactly right, but it wasn't hurting either. I decided I could pick up the pace a bit without danger to myself. The weather could not have been nicer; sunny, clear, warm-ish but not hot, slight breeze. The view of the shoreline was great and I enjoyed seeing all the people who were, surprisingly, slower than I was.

Lots of times I can go a whole race without talking to anyone except for thanking the volunteers at the water stops. This race I chatted with several people as we ran along. I did my normal 9:1 run:walk and noticed many other people also running intervals. I guess most back-of-the-packers these days throw in some walking. At least they do toward the end of a race.

At almost mile 11 we ran onto the Rec Trail. I was feeling very good, no pain at all. I also was feeling surprisingly energetic for being 11 miles into a race. According to Mr. Garmin and my rapidly deteriorating math skills, it was possible that if I knocked myself out I could PR. One problem was that I wasn't exactly sure what my half marathon PR was, I just guessed. I also wasn't sure I was adding up the mileage correctly. But I decided to go for it, the worse that could happen would be having to hobble the last couple of miles.

I picked up the speed until I was huffing and puffing. Down the trail, back along Cannery Row, back to the trail again. I kept revising the time I needed, kept forgetting what I had just decided, realized I had no idea if I could make it in time. Then I realized that I might just possibly have started my finish line sprint a couple of miles early. Uh oh.

I cut my walk breaks down to a half minute and kept on running, kept wheezing and puffing. I started counting all the people I passed but then I'd forget and start trying to do finish time math again. I realized that my brain was no long reliable since I wasn't getting any oxygen. So I ran hard, tried not to do anything except watch my foot placement and look ahead, and finally saw the finish line. I gave one final extra push and crossed the line. I stopped Mr. Garmin, took and look and saw PR, Baby! At least I thought so.

I got my ceramic medal, gathered up my sis and bro-in-law and walked through the food lines while recovering my breath. I was terrifically excited about my fast time and the lack of knee pain. In fact, the total lack of any pain. I got water, a bagel, a banana and a cookie and we walked back to the hotel while I munched on the food.


It turned out that I had beat my 2002 half marathon PR by 2 full minutes. I beat my previous course times by 6 minutes, 6 minutes and 12 minutes. I can't think of anything I had done differently from any of my other recent runs, which made my knee hurt like hell and were slower, except for the compression calf sleeves. Yes, that means I'll always wear the darn things now.

The BSIM organization puts on a fabulous race. I may have some issues with their hoity-toitiness ("Eighth Presentation" anybody?), price ($95-$115 for a half marathon) and belief that women runners only come in very small sizes, but they sure know how to set up a race course. They benefit from two of the prettiest courses around (the full and the half) but they also get wonderful and knowledgeable volunteers and course support. Well done. I'm very proud to say that both of my PRs, full marathon and half marathon, are from Big Sur races.

Women's Half Marathon Race Review

I dreamed that I was running through a sea of Pepto Bismol. Pink --- pink everywhere! Soft baby pink, bright hot pink, flamingo pink, Barbie pink, cotton candy pink, bubble gum pink; pink pink pink. Then I came to my senses and realized that I wasn't dreaming, I was running the inaugural Women's Running Magazine's Women's Half Marathon in Nashville and pink was the girly color of the day.

We all know I love to run races, we know I love to see my sis. This race offered the chance to do both. It sorta kinda fit right into my training calendar, between my longest training runs. So I registered, bought my plane ticket and headed to Nashville for a weekend of family and fun.

We went to the expo Friday, arriving early enough to be first in line when before it opened. For us, it was simple to pick up our (pink) bibs, emblazoned with our names and race number. We moved along and picked up our very cool goody bags:


They were filled with an assortment of stuff and the usual ads and papers. The expo was definitely womencentric with all the girly clothing and gewgaws a (female) runner could want. I spent a teensie bit of money there, walking away with a pair of shoes, a running skirt, a couple of headbands, a couple of boxes of Gu, a pair of sunglasses and my usual running hat. We remembered to pick up our race shirts which were, surprisingly, pink. They were also, surprisingly, big enough. A very nice tech shirt with some shaping and no ads.


In total disregard of the old saw that you never do anything new on race day, I decided to wear my new running skirt and my new cap. I figured this was going to be one of my shorter runs for a while, I was supposed to treat it as a training run, so no big deal. I crossed my fingers and hoped I wouldn't regret the decision.

Early Saturday we arrived at the starting area. Still dark, it was bustling with excited runners and walkers preparing for the race. We headed over to the line of porta potties and the sky exploded. It was truly bizarre; the potties were lined up under a row of trees that were apparently the resting place of a very large flock of birds. There were many hundreds of these birdies who took wing as the sun started to rise. Sweeping back and forth and back again, the birds wheeled around the sky as runners and walkers and spectators covered their heads and hoped.

My sis and I knew we couldn't run together since she isn't running these days but we lined up together in our corral. Then we noticed that we were ahead of the pacers holding up signs for 2:30, 2:45 and 3:00. That was wrong so we moved back. My goal was to take it easy, have fun, not get hurt. I didn't want to start too fast. Her goal was to finish walking a half marathon when she just wanted to run.

Finally the race started and we split up right at the mat. The race was, to be brief (hah!), great. It was well organized, well supported, well routed. The course was varied through business areas, residential and parkland. We ran on streets and trails. The police were wonderful keeping the routes clear of cars, the volunteers were friendly and helpful, the water and ade stations plentiful. It was hillier than I had expected from the course profile but it wasn't bad until about mile 12 when we had to run on an overpass in the blazing sun in the heat and humidity. But after that it went downhill or flat until the end.

I ran:walked my normal 9:1 until that overpass when I walked and ran when I felt like it. My splits were pretty even (except for my fumbled water bottle fill at mile 8 that took an extra 2 minutes) until then, and my last 2 miles were slow. I had realized finally that I was running a little harder than I had intended, it was hot, it was humid, so I slowed down. That's my story and I'm stickin' with it!

I crossed the finish line to the sound of my name (according to my bro-in-law who was waiting, there were lots of finishers with my name), had my huge medal draped around my neck, and was handed a bottle of water. I wandered down the line, greeted my bro-in-law, had my picture taken and headed to the food tables. They were filled to bursting with bagels, muffins, granola bars, bananas, apples, probably more that I didn't notice. There were buckets filled with icy water and bottles of energy drinks and water. I grabbed a cold one and went back to wait for my sis to finish.

After a while I saw her and her friend cruising across the finish line. They had made excellent time on their walk and both looked fresh and happy to be done. We hung out taking pictures for a bit, then moved along to the food tables which still were groaning under the weight of lots of food - even after 3-1/2 hours. I'm not used to anything being left at a half when I finish, let alone much later. Then we walked over to the cookie place. Yes, a set of tables just for cookies. Not quite a beer tent, but second best.


The medals were made just for this race in Music City. They're a two-piecer, with a center piece that could be removed and put on a necklace. Which coincidentally they were selling at the expo and after the race for a mere $10. Yes, we had purchased them at the expo and worn them during the race with the intention of having the charm hung after the race. There was a booth with helpers transferring the charms and there was no line so we were through there quickly.


Final thoughts: great race. It's not east for an organization to put on such a successful inaugural race. Soup to nuts, everything went right. There was a medical tragedy on the course that was quickly handled with sensitivity. The expo, while not as huge as the bigger races, carried just about anything a runner or walker could want for a race or other fun run. Packet pickup was efficient. Amenities (bag, shirt, medal, food and drink afterward) were ample and fun. Course support, both police and volunteers, were ample and cordial and friendly. Participants ranged from newbies who had never done a race to experts hoping for a PR. The weather even cleared up; hot and humid to me but cooler and drier than it had been. I'd do this race again, and I'd do another of their races if I had the weekend free. Give it a try!

Random thoughts for Wednesday

I stayed out too late last night. In my world, "late" on a workday means anything past 9 pm and I wasn't home until about 10 pm. I had a very fun girls' night out; drinks, appetizers and the girly movie du jour, Eat Pray Love. Despite the evening having 4 complete flaws (1: staying out late; 2: drinking a cocktail during the week; 3: eating fried and gooey food whilst dieting; 4: chick flick) it was a lot of fun. Surprisingly enough I enjoyed the movie and stayed awake the entire time. Now I have to read the book.

I didn't get up to run this morning because I got to bed too late (see above). I didn't get up to run Monday morning either so I ran after work. I kept telling myself to take it easy since I had a trainer workout early Tuesday, then I ended up running 4 outside miles faster than I've done for a couple of years. D'oh!

That didn't translate well to Tuesday's training session. My legs were still fatigued and my arms decided to keep them company. I made it through the workout but wasn't my normal sparkling self. Wait, I don't normally sparkle, no sparkles here. I made it through the squat/ball tosses without dropping the 10 pound ball on my head (or dropping it at all, for that matter), I made it through the mountain climbers without pulling my groin (which I did last week), made it through the traveling lunges without toppling over (it was close, I had to keep grabbing the rail to get my balance), made it through the v-ups, twists, push-ups, tricep pull-downs, bicep curls without collapsing on my face. I wasn't a happy camper like I usually am when I finish, just relieved to be done.

Saturday was a long run, the first 18 miler of the season. We lucked out again with the weather. The cool, overcast, drizzly, breezy conditions were perfect while running. Kinda sucked when we finished; it took a half hour in a hot shower, warm sweats, thick socks and a blanket to warm me up afterward. Summer? Not here. We ran on the always lovely Alameda Creek Trail in Fremont. Since we hadn't run there yet this season we didn't know that the trail going toward the Bay is closed, while the other end's construction is cleared out.

Refueling and rehydrating on Saturday were amply supplied by dinner at my bro's. I picked up my mom and we went to one of my bro's and sis-in-law's patented food fests, this one Tacos Two Ways. Which could also have been called Margaritas Two Ways. Or Dessert Four Ways. Good thing I burned a couple thousand calories running so I could eat (fish and carnitas tacos with the trimmings), drink (ginger/tangerine margaritas and blackberry/mint margaritas), pray (that I wouldn't fall asleep during the meal), love (that I was still under my allotted calories for the day).

I missed knitting so I picked up the sock I started so many moons ago and tried to figure out where I had left off. Somewhere in the gusset so I continued on the row I thought was correct. I'm not sure the pattern is written right for across the instep but I'm going to blindly follow it. Heck, I can do it correctly on the second sock if this is wrong. Nobody looks at my feet anyway.

Now that I've worked out with the trainer a couple dozen times, gotten up at the ungodly time of 5:15-5:30 am to train or run during the week, counted every single thing that I put in my mouth, I'll have to say I'm seeing results. I've lost some weight (lots more where that came from), gotten a bit faster with running (it's relative, I'm still snail-slow), gained some upper body strength (some day I'll be able to do a real push-up). I detest getting up so early but I'm getting better at it. "They" say it takes a couple of months for a pattern to become habit. I'm still waiting.

Where oh where has our summer gone?

When I look out the window it's hard to remember that it's August. Overcast, windy, cool, drizzly. Yeah, lots of Bay Area summer days start this way, but this year it doesn't clear out. Except for a few days where the sun shone and the temps rose to the 90's, it's been cool and gloomy. I'm not complaining (oh wait: yeah, I am) because it's perfect for those morning long runs, but it's strange to have SAD in the middle of summer. I wouldn't want the sweltering heat that the eastern and southern parts of the country are experiencing, but sunshine would be welcome.

Saturday morning I wasn't complaining about the weather (oh wait: yeah, I was) while I was running. I deeply appreciated the cool temps in the 50's, appreciated the overcast, didn't mind the mist that made water drip off the brim of my cap, but I wasn't too thrilled with the constant wind in my face for the first 7 miles. I was running merrily along in my tank top and shorts, passing walkers bundled up for the arctic. These people had on parkas and gloves and scarves while I sweated my way past them. We all looked at each other as if the other were crazy.

The run went well. I met Bree at the Lafayette-Moraga Trail at 6:30 am (yawn) and we started running together. We ran together for less than 2 miles and then I sped up to a more comfortable pace and she slowed to her own comfort zone. I stopped at the bathroom at Moraga Commons to release and refill fluids, then continued on. The trail that was so beautiful in the winter and spring was dried and weedy, with only the prickle vine weed (whatever it's really called) and blue star thistles showing any color. A few of the oleanders are still in bloom, adding bits of brightness to the overcast gloom. Strangely enough, I really love the look of dried California summers. Whether you call it golden or brown, it looks like home to me.

I kept up the 9:1 run:walk except for the 9% grade hill leading to the end of the trail where I extended my walk break. That gave me a chance to talk with a little bunny hanging out on the side of the trail. No, he didn't talk back (sheesh, bunnies don't talk!). I ran to the end of the trail, tagged the post and started back the other way. I passed Bree going the other direction, continued on.

Back at the Commons I refilled my fluids again and then went on. With the wind at my back it was easier to breathe but I was getting a bit bored. Luckily the trail was busy with walkers and runners and I stayed busy saying "good morning" or "hi" to everyone. There weren't many cyclists on the trail (except for family groups), probably because those weeds are excellent at puncturing tubes.

Another way I kept myself busy was tying to figure out how far I had to backtrack to get in my 16 miles. My math skilz are absent once I've been running for an hour or so. I really didn't want to run more than 16 but I wanted at least that 16. Lessee, according to Mr. Garmin it was 7.3 miles to the turnaround. That makes the trail 14.6 round trip. That means I need an additional 1.4 miles. If I turn around at mile 2 and head back toward mile 3, I only need to run ... oh! lookit the rose blooming in that yard! Wow, I'm thirsty. Is it time to walk yet? What was I doing? Oh yeah, it was 7.3 miles to the turnaround. That makes the trail ...

Pitiful. I ran past the Senior Center, deciding that I'd run to the 2.25 marker and back and then stop to refill and empty fluids. All of a sudden I saw the 2 mile marker and realized I'd gone too far. I certainly wasn't going to run an extra half mile so I refilled my bottle at the fountain behind the fire station. Bree and I encountered each other again (hey, how'd she get ahead of me??) as I headed for the last couple of miles.

I ended with 16.2 miles. The sun was just starting to peek out and it was getting warmer (oooh, it was in the 60's!) so timing was good. I stretched out and waited for Bree who wasn't too far behind me. I was happy with the run; it was the most consistent long run I'd done in ages. Consistent not in the TnT definition of slow (although it was that) but in the true meaning of equal (and almost negative) splits.

A shower and a nap would have been a good thing, but Saturday means Momday so I headed over to see her. We're in the process of putting her condo on the market and she's decided that she needs to be in control and sign everything, so I took the massive pile of forms to go through with her. I read them to her, explained them to her, showed her where to sign. We answered the gazillion disclosure questions, marked those that were questionable, she initialed and signed. In the middle of it all she insisted it was lunch time so we went out for some truly mediocre Chinese food (which had the added benefit of being a zillion calories). Back to reading, explaining, re-reading, more explaining, signing and initialing. We had a major difference of opinion when it came to setting a price; my mom wants to list the place at about $100,000 more than anything has sold for in the past couple of years. I think that's ridiculous and a waste of everyone's time. I told her she needs to speak with the agent who can hopefully get her to see the light.

Next weekend's run will be 18 miles, starting the long runs early. I'm looking forward to it!

Not the race report ... yet

I've been putting off writing about the Mermaid Half Marathon until I get the pictures from my camera to my computer but since that's taking forever, I'll write around it.

Friday was my birthday, the latest of many others. It astounds me when I think that I'm in my mid-50's since I don't feel that different from how I felt when I was, oh, in my teens. That same sense of self, of "this is me" is there. Yeah, I have a different body and different life outlook from when I was younger but it's still the same Amy inside my head. I still sound like me to me, I still have my same feelings, but the calendar and my mirror tell me that yes indeedy I'm middle aged. Not complaining, mind you. I know the only alternative to getting older and it's not something I want. Age over death any day, thankyouverymuch. It's just that it's so odd!

My celebration included going to work, since that's what I normally do on Fridays. Luckily I like my job and I like my co-workers. I had purposely scheduled a race for the morning after my birthday so I would have an excuse to stay home Friday night. Partying late is something I got out of my system when I was much younger. Like in my 40's. I had an easy, enjoyable day, heard from friends and loved ones and got in a nap, reading, knitting and even some sleep. Oy. I am old.

Saturday morning I got up at 4:50 am (just about the time I used to roll into bed after a birthday celebration) and got ready for my race. [Pretend you're reading a race report here.]

Saturday afternoon I was able to crash on the sofa for a while before going out to dinner with a friend. Her birthday is a week after mine so we always try to celebrate together. Sometimes that doesn't happen until June, but we were both available so we scheduled an early dinner at Casa Orozco. We each felt we'd be home and getting ready to settle in by 7:15 - wild and crazy girls are we!

Instead, we had a great dinner (with only one margarita each, mind you) and sat chatting away until we realized it was 8:30, the restaurant was crowded and we were taking up a table. Oopsie, so we retired to my house with a glass of wine and continued talking until after 10:15. That's what happens when we don't get together that often.

Whether it was the conversation, the wine, the food, the race, the pollen-stuffed lungs or something else, I was wired (ha! betcha thought I was going to say I couldn't stay awake!) and jittery and didn't bother going to bed until close to 1 am. I tossed and turned and dragged myself out of bed early Sunday morning and set to the day's chores.

Sunday was mom's day, and we shuttled back and forth picking up more things that she decided she needs to have. She's slowly cramming her new apartment full to the rafters (figuratively; there are no rafters where she lives) and the old house still has enough stuff in it to furnish another apartment. I'm trying not to think about having to sort what's left, but at least we're not in a horrible hurry to do that. I think my mom still hopes that someday she'll be able to go live there again. Yeah, that'll be right around when they invent those youth pills we've been told about or when someone discovers the Fountain of Youth.

Frequently when I go to a store these days there's someone with a petition for something. "Don't let your freedom to [whatever] be taken away, sign now!" or "No representation, we must be able to vote on [whatever] now!" or "Save the [parks/taxes/children/animals] now!" they say, "add these to the upcoming election." The only petition I'd sign is one I haven't seen yet. That would be the one creating an 8th day of the week, to fall on the weekend between Saturday and Sunday. I'd call it "Momday" but I'm willing to let someone else pick the name if that isn't acceptable. "Momday" will be a day for people to take that extra step for their family members, either the elderly or the young. The day would be spent either with the family member, or for the family member's behalf. It would still leave a 2 day weekend for recreation and errands and housework. C'mon, wouldn't YOU sign that petition?

Random Tuesday

Bits and pieces of this and that.

Yesterday was a beautiful day to run, but I didn't. The sun was shining, it was quite warm, the wind was gently wafting through the grasses. But the pollen count was off the charts and I still had a sore throat so I decided gulping in great breaths probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Excuse? Possibly, but at least a good one. I've had my cold this year and I'm fighting off this next one for all I'm worth.

Saturday morning I ran 15 miles with Anita, again on the Lafayette-Moraga Trail. We went from the parking lot to the end and back and averaged about 45 seconds per minute faster than the week before. It was a scenic run, but there was lots of dodging everyone else who was taking advantage of the cold, sunny dry morning. We're still horrifically slow, but the nice thing about that trail is we finish running faster than we started. I take it as a good sign that although I'm tired after these runs, I'm not in the least bit sore.

I finished the feet on my second pair of socks. That's a good thing, because I don't really like the yarn. I have a blue streak across my finger, where I wrap the working yarn, so I have a strong feeling that I'll have blue tootsies when I start to wear the socks. There's still the leg to knit but I've decided to make these short, probably 3 inches of pattern and 1 of cuff.

I figured we weren't going to have any more hard freezes this year so I started cutting back my frost-burned jasmine. A little late, as it turns out. I had to carefully clip around all the new growth. I also decided that this year I absolutely have to find a new gardener. The current ones keep the grass short, but I think they do that by killing it. Anyone who knows a good, affordable gardener/landscaper in this area, let me know.

I took my nephew out on Sunday to buy his Hanukkah present. Yeah, we're a little slow but at least we did it sooner than last year. He's an enjoyable kid to be around and we have fun together on our little jaunts. I can't wait to see what he's going to come up with to get for his 13th birthday, this October. Knowing us we won't be shopping for that until the following January. He's going to be an interesting teenager.

I'm having my usual trouble adjusting to the spring time change. I like it being dark in the morning but I think it's going to take a couple of weeks to reset my sleepy switch at night. Right now I think I could sleep from about 5:30 pm to midnight very well. That's actually more than I usually sleep but then what would I do from midnight on?

That's all I've got for now.

Blocked

Tongue tied. Wordless. Mute. Inarticulate.

I've had lots to say lately, but it never looks right when I type it out. It's stilted, jumbled, cold and ends up looking like endless whining (which it is, but doesn't have to look that way) or senseless babble (which it also is, but ditto). So bear with me.

There's been a little cross-training, a little running (very little), a little sleeping, a lot of knitting, a lot of family, a lot of eating and drinking. When the sun shines I've been happy and energetic and when it's gloomy I want to scoot under a shrub and hibernate for another month.

Every night at bedtime I think in panic "ohmygod I'm running a hilly marathon in 3 months" and tell myself that tomorrow's another day and I'll do a good run then. Once in a while I run that run but more often run/walk and even more often than that I plain old walk (or sit on my ass). I'm having a lot of asthma problems, some of them I'm sure related to RWF since there's been weight gain but I'm at that precipice where I need to run to lose weight but I can't breathe well enough to run until I lose weight.

Changing the subject to yarn, I bought oodles of gorgeous yarn at Stitches West. It seemed that this year every independent dyer had an Amy colorway (which would be true-red with shades of black and gray or white). Splendiferous yarny goodness in every booth and thanks to my new love of knitting socks, I didn't feel at all bad buying 15 many skeins in variations of those colors. The fibers ranged from 100% merino to wool with additions of tencel, or silk, or cashmere. All soft and touchable and they'll be wonderful to knit and to wear. I wore my self-knitted socks with shoes for the first time yesterday and even after those long hours of up and downing the Stitches aisles, my feet were happy. The sole of the socks showed some wear (I'm notoriously tough on my socks, which is why I wasn't ever going to start knitting socks) so I think I'll end up learning how to darn also.

We celebrated my mom's 82nd birthday this weekend. Like the Energizer Mummy, she keeps on going. There are good days and bad days with a couple of very good days or very bad days thrown in. It's hard being her main emotional support and I have to keep telling myself that it doesn't matter that I didn't sign up for the job. I'm hoping that the good days will continue and the bad days are kept to a minimum.

Anyone know any 12.5 minute milers who want to run about 5 miles in the Valley area after normal work hours a couple of days each week? Maybe what I need is just a running partner!

Thrice

I was quiet last month, hmmm? As it is, I think I posted as much as I ran. No reasons for either, just excuses that I won't re-babble. Busy and tired but nothing that more activity and more posting wouldn't have helped. February will show improvement; that's my story and I'm stickin' to it!

A very nice thing happened yesterday: the sun came out. I am such a creature of brightness and the last couple of dark gloomy months have made me want to hibernate. This is the same every winter and usually at the end of January I shake myself and tell myself to snap out of it, dammit! So now that it's February I'm going to snap out of it, dammit!

I've been reading, I've been knitting, I've been eating, I've been napping and working and most of all I've been helping my mom get settled. She's doing well, or wellish, and turning her rather institutional apartment into a glorious, comfortable museum setting. But since it's a new facility she is just about the only resident. She's certainly the only person on her floor, so she's lonely. I'm filing the roles of daughter, friend and confidant as well as packer, mover, sorter, carter and the usual bookkeeper, mail clerk, health insurance coordinator.

During a long talk I told my mom that I miss my old life. The greatest thing in my life is my friends and I've been neglecting most of them for months. Yes, I mean you. You too. My email friends and my phone friends and my running friends and my knitting friends. I miss socializing. I miss going out for a run and chatting for hours. I miss having a glass of good wine with a good friend. I miss having a stitch 'n' bitch at my house. I miss going to bed and sleeping soundly the entire night -- oh wait, I never did that. I miss my routine.

So that's the goal. Reconnect. Write call visit entertain. Less time napping, more time conversing. What do you think?

I didn't think this day would come

This past July and August my mom was in the hospital (actually in 3 hospitals). She had been over-medicated and mis-medicated and was suffering deep dementia-related symptoms. She was agitated, raving, hallucinating, confused, angry, delusional, violent. She was so weak she couldn't stand unassisted and had to be helped with the most basic tasks of living. Her diagnosis was multi-infarct dementia and the doctors assured us that the condition was permanent. She would need life-long confinement and constant care.

I'd like to tell all those doctors that BULLSHIT YOU JERKS, it was the medication after all. Today my mom moved into a brand new assisted living facility. She has a very minor level of care, 3 meals daily, medication oversight and complete freedom of movement. There are a lot of things she can't do, but so many more that she can. She can't live alone again but she doesn't need to be locked away for her own protection or watched constantly.

A tough part of this move was my mom's having to acknowledge that the large part of her independence is gone. She's been her own support system for most of her adult life and to have to depend upon others, to have to ask for help for basics, is foreign to her. She'll never again drive a car, never balance a checkbook (or even write a check), never set her own daily schedule. She won't be planning her own meals, won't be cooking or shopping alone. All her financial decisions are out of her hands.

But the hardest part was having to downsize her possessions. For almost three quarters of a century my mom has been a collector. When I was a little girl she started collecting antiques. She scoured old barns and out-of-way shops and had her own personal antique store owner who would call her first when something good came in. Lovely, heavy dark woods; fancy intricately designed upholstery fabrics; antique pewter mugs; old red glass. Then she started traveling around the world and collecting more things. First there were the fine art objects, then the folk art.

Two years ago she moved from La Jolla to a smaller home up here. She needed to be closer to me, closer to my brother, closer to a support network. She went from about 2000 crowded square feet to about 1500 square feet. She didn't pare down her possessions, didn't sort anything, didn't discard anything. Everything squeeeeezed into the smaller home. But now the space she moved to today only has 750 square feet. Lots of things needed to go.

As the main packer it was my job to talk my mom into sorting her possessions. We started with big furniture, went through books and then sorted objects. We packed what she absolutely wanted. We stuck books to donate to the library in a far corner. I set aside a large table for questionable items. About the only thing that convinced my mom to not take everything was the idea that her choices weren't irrevocable. We covered that table, then surrounded that table, and went through rolls and rolls of bubble wrap. Boxes were marked as "books" or "fragile" or "very fragile" or "the most fragile."

Everything we moved - packed or piled - had a story. "I found that in an old store in the U.P." Or, "Noreen called me when this came in and I rushed to get it. " And, "I bought that in Alaska" "Russia" "China" "Mexico" "Egypt" "China" (she liked it there, went a few times to different places) "Cuba" "Mexico" (went there a lot too; I went with her a few times) "Thailand" "Detroit" "Jupiter" (I made that up to see if you're paying attention) (but she would have gone if there were interesting things to see).

There is memory loss, with some things there's lots of memory loss, but my mom remembers where her beloved belongings are from. She remembers who she was with if she wasn't traveling alone, she remembers how she bargained and often how little she paid. She doesn't remember when she went to many of these places. I thought that putting aside her stuff was remarkably brave and it broke my heart to see her have to go through this.

It only got worse when we got to her clothes. My mom has always lived with plenty of closet space so she has never had to get rid of things. Before arthritis crippled her fingers she made most of her clothes; she was a fabulous seamstress and had a great eye for colors and great touch for fabrics. She made timeless classics and, apparently, kept them all.

She went through her first closet by herself and almost everything was in the keep pile. I took her into the next closet and told her that everything had to fit onto one hanging rod; everything else would go on her bed. When it was all "keep" "keep" "keep" I made the same bargain about the clothes that I had about the other items: nothing is irrevocable. Once the movers took the clothes she definitely wanted, I'd re-hang the rest of them and she'd have plenty of time to change her mind. That got things moving.

I'd ask when she had last worn something. Point out any spots or worn bits or tears. Ask if it fit. Cajoled her. Jollied her. Laughed. Rolled my eyes. Admired dresses while telling her she had no use for them. Asked her if she planned to move back to Detroit to wear some of her warmest clothes. Took things away while she was undecided.

But I knew exactly how hard it was to put aside a couple of articles. One was a gorgeous red lace (backless) party dress that she wore when I was a little girl. Yup, that was in the 1960's! She has kept this dress, moved it about 8 times and probably hasn't worn it for 40+ years. It's still in perfect shape, still stylish. She will never wear it again, I could never wear it (although I'd love to); it will just hang. She finally gave it to me to put on the bed and it looked like she was going to cry. I felt like the meanest meany who every meaned.

We never even touched the folded shirts and sweaters, that will be another job for another time. We didn't go through any of her paperwork, didn't touch the garage (oy. The garage). I met the movers this morning and in the pouring storm they spent a couple of hours loading our carefully packed boxes, the bed, the sofa, the desk, the chairs, the end tables, the lamps, the mirrors, and more more more. When they left the house still looked full.

They brought everything to her new apartment in her new home. The movers carted in the goods and I unpacked some things while my bro and sister-in-law took my mom down to the dining room for her first meal there. I emptied the wardrobes, filled the mini-fridge, set up the bathroom. I placed things in drawers and in the closet and on the shelves. I didn't touch the boxes of "stuff" but made sure my mom had the things she needed for her first night.

When my family came back from lunch, raving about how good the food was, I had a surprise for my mom. I directed her to the closet, stuffed full of her clothes. And there, hanging front and center, was her beloved red dress.

I'm such a pushover.

Is it spring yet?

Foggy, drizzly, overcast, cold. Come on, if it's going to be ugly outside at least we should be getting some measurable rain so that when it's 100 degrees here in 6 months we'll be able to water the lawn. But no, just enough precip to dampen the freeways and my spirits. Although I think the cloudy sky and waving trees are beautiful, enough is enough. Gimme some sunshine!

Gah. I vastly dislike having deadlines and it seems that lately everything has a time cut-off that has to be met. Personal life, family life, work life. I end up overwhelmed and having to recheck everything I do for stupid errors and hmmph.

The only good thing going on right now is I'm not exercising. No, that in itself is very much not a good thing. What's good is that when I exercise I don't sleep. When I do nothing my sleep improves. Totally bassackward but that's what I've found. Last night I took a 1 hour nap, got up and was productive for a few hours, then slept for 6 hours, got up once to go to the bathroom and slept another hour. I've had many weeks when I haven't had that much sleep. And I'm still tired. And don't want to run or wii or cycle or anything.

I'm happy I didn't make any resolutions because it would be pitiful breaking them so early (except the sunscreen thing; despite there not being any sun whatsoever, I'm still applying sunscreen to exposed skin).

We've found a new home for my mom and she's supposed to move next week. We won't be selling her current home for a while to make sure that she has everything she needs, but it's still a move with all the attendant problems. Throw in her physical problems and it's challenging for us all. The great part is that she's doing so well, is so stable cognitively and emotionally that it's enjoyable spending this much time with her. Of course, that increases my guilt about not being able to spend even more time with her. That also gives me a (somewhat) valid excuse for not having time to exercise.

And thus I come full circle. Where's the sun?

Let's go for a wun

Thanksgiving and the weekend following were wonderful. At the last minute I decided that my sis had to come to town so we tracked down some flights and got her out here. We spent some time with the rest of the family, some time at my office working, but mostly we spent time together. There's just something about having a sister, a best friend, that makes everything all right.

Makes everything tired too. As I'm fond of saying, my sis has more energy than a two year old who just consumed a box of Froot Loops. GoGoGoGo all day long and then collapse at the end of the day. I'm more like GoGo all day long and then get a burst of energy at 9pm. Our biorhythms aren't quite the same but we manage.

One thing we managed was to get outside each morning and get moving. We had decided to get ourselves up and do the Walnut Creek Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning, the 5k version. Sis hasn't been running much for various reasons but at heart she's still a runner. I haven't been running much because I'm sluggish and lazy but at heart I'm still a runner. We decided that we'd run, and run:walk, and walk if necessary. Sis is faster than I am (by several minutes per mile) but she said she'd slow down for me. I've heard that one before.

It was cold Thursday morning and there was a lot of waiting around for the Trot to begin. We were bundled up because we anticipated lots of walking and so when we actually started running I was a little overheated. The race was crowded with real runners, families, dogs, baby strollers, walkers. We fit somewhere in the middle there, just wanting to have a good time. Seriously, who beats themselves up at a Turkey Trot? (Well, one fellow did. He was running along at a very fast pace, repeatedly projectile vomiting as he ran. Just as disgusting as it sounds. Dude. Slow the hell down and get your germs away from the rest of us!)

Somewhere in the middle of this Trot I decided that it was time we had a new word for the whole run-walk interval thing. Thus: "wun." Sure, I could have come up with "ralk" but that sounds like what the guy was doing as he ran. "Wun" conjugates like "run" so "I went for a wun," "yesterday we wan 6 miles," "we were wunning along the trail," "my wun was 9:1," and so forth. I anticipate that the same people that don't know the correct conjugates of "run" will also make a mess of "wun" (and seriously, what's up with that? Haven't schools taught grammar for the past few decades? Am I the only person bothered by this?).

So spread the word! Many people are training, and racing, with run:walk intervals. Heck, I've heard that people are training for Ironman Triathlons with intervals. Yes, you too can wun an Ironman. Join with me and be a wunner!

Running and eating part 2

As happened the previous weekend, this past weekend my 10 mile run turned into an 8 miler. What was supposed to be the great reunion run of 2009 turned into just two of us; Anita and I met up at the Lafayette Moraga Trail for a chilly outing. Once again it was freezing and I decided to only run 4 miles and not blow out my lungs with the cold air. Once again we ended up running to the 4 mile marker before turning back. It was cold, I was wheezy, but it was still great getting out and running, looking at the bright crispy clear scenery, carefully making our way across the icy wooden bridge without slipping. We were both tired once we finished but not wiped out, not ready to drop in our tracks. That's an improvement.

I like going out to eat no more than weekly; my known habit is to feel that since I normally eat so well, a restaurant meal is a treat and I can eat what I want. That doesn't work well when you go out 4 days in a row. On Friday my bro had taken my mom to see a new doctor. Due to an obstructive nasty receptionist they walked out. Since there was time, they called and asked me to join them for a sushi lunch near my office. How could I say no?

Saturday night was an office party at a Japanese restaurant in Oakland. The food was incredibly good and rich, although not big in quantity. The wine was incredibly good too, but I only had one glass since I was driving (I should mention that the "one glass" was because after about 3 sips a waiter would walk up from behind and refill the glass. I never did empty that glass all night, so "one glass," right?). Sunday I took my mom to lunch at the newish Lake Chateau on Lake Merritt where we ate too much. Last night I took my mom to a doctor appointment and since she would have missed her dinner at the home I had to take her to dinner.

We were in the Danville area so we went to the new Maria Maria. I was ready to face the same awful service that they have at the Walnut Creek restaurant and was quite pleasantly surprised by the attentive waitstaff. That meal would have been nice and healthy if we hadn't ordered the melted cheese dish to go with my shrimp tacos and her chicken salad. At least I have a leftover taco and leftover salad for my dinner tonight, there was no way we could finish that much food.

So I'm still feeling sluggish and stuffed. Stuffed head, too. My allergies are acting up (no, it's not a cold. I keep telling you that). Mornings and evenings I'm sniffling, sneezing, coughing. Two mornings in a row I've felt like there's sand underneath my contacts. Before I put in my contacts. I've ended up wearing glasses instead. By mid-day I feel fine, get a burst of energy, breathe clearly. But by bedtime I'm all congested again.

I finished my nephew's hat and I'm not too impressed with it. Sure, it's very cute with the stripes, I-cord and tassel on the end. Being a novice I didn't use enough yarn for a true pom-pom but I think it looks less girly being less full. I'm sure it's because of the cheap crap acrylic yarn, but the hat doesn't feel shaped right and is too stretchy. I'll see what my nephew thinks about it and decide whether it needs any adjustments. Now I just want to knit with some natural fiber yarn, something that grew on an animal or plant and wasn't made from chemicals. Good thing I have about 5 WIPs on my counter, I can choose from those. Or go with my feeling this morning: it's freezing out, I need another pair of mitts!

It's raining, it's pouring

I'm hoping this will be a heavy, short storm that passes through the area by the middle of the night. I'm going to run long tomorrow morning and don't have happy thoughts of running on piles of wet leaves. Slippery and I don't go together.

My great plan for being back on track went all to crap again. I started the week well and just ... let's just say I tapered and leave it at that. I've been eating well so that balances it a teensy bit but this isn't particularly the way to stay healthy or not get fatter.

I've been knitting again, recently on a stupid, fun project. My little pre-teen nephew asked me if I would knit him a hat and how could I refuse that face? I asked what type and he said he wanted one where he could swing the top around in circles. Yeaaaaah. He doesn't want a long tapering point, more like a hat with a ball on the end of a string. Oooooookay. At least he said he wanted it in red. And black. So I'm knitting with colors I like and knew that I had in the house. I discovered some hand-me-down nasty acrylic worsted weight yarns in my stash and was happy not to have to waste my Malabrigo on what seems to be a joke hat.

A couple of weeks ago I cast on for a basic 2x2 rib hat. I was at the end of the decreases when I convinced myself that the damn thing would be too big for a jumbo pumpkin and there was no way to fix it. I ripped it back and started over on a smaller size. Again, 2x2 rib but this time only on the brim and plain old stockinette for the rest of it. I made the decrease on the pointy side and instead of binding off at the end I did an I-cord for about 10 inches. Now I'm trying to decide whether to make the pompom attached or whether to bind off the I-cord and do maybe 2 small pompoms and attach them. At this rate my nephew should be getting his hat just about in time for spring thaw.

Running and eating

I've been doing too little of one and too much of the other. Care to guess which is which? Alrighty, then!

I managed to go almost 2 weeks with close to no running, no cross training, no core work, no strength work. Any excuses I can come up with are exactly that, excuses. I was tired, I had a visitor, I was busy, wah wah wah. Shoulda run no matter what.

To make up for lost time I thought running 10 miles on Saturday would be an excellent idea. Thought that right up until my alarm went off Saturday morning. The reason I need friends to run with me is that I will not, unless sick as a dog, cancel out on them. I was supposed to meet Bree and Sandy (yes! she's in town for a short visit!) for this 10 miler so meet them I did. I'd like to say that once out of bed I was much livelier but that wouldn't be true.

The 10 miler turned into an 8 miler, which I considered a success since I really only wanted to run 6. It was a beautiful day running through the leaves on the Lafayette-Moraga Trail. I don't like running on leaves since they're slippery and hide pavement faults, but I kept an eye on the ground and only tripped once. I felt quite righteous once we finished. And quite tired too. I'm glad we didn't push those extra 2 miles because that would have been asking for injury or a tumble. Next week! Er, next week on the extra miles, not the tumbling.

I was pretty horrified at how badly I was wiped out from the run. I'm hoping that memories of that will keep me more honest with my workouts. Since I fully intend to keep my weekend runs at the 10-15 mile range I need to keep up with the the daily ones too. I'm pretty sure that when they say you should do an average of 40 minutes activity each day, they don't mean to do it all at one time and slack off the other 6 days.

Today my bro and I took my mom out for lunch. We had a fun, wacky, silly time (not to mention some great food). Because she dislikes the food at the Place, my mom looks forward to the weekend meals out. Also, before all this started she frequently went to restaurants and she misses that. My bro and I are always on the lookout for my mom's newest favorite place (it changes each time she has a great meal somewhere). When my mom went to the ladies room my bro and I remarked on how we had thought the days of my mom being bright and intentionally funny were gone. It's remarkable and great to have her back.

Of course, that also means that I only have 1 day on the weekend to get my regular chores out of the way. And that means that mostly they don't get done. A little laundry, and little grocery shopping, a bill or two paid. The rest of it I put aside and hope I have enough energy during the week to do everything else after work. Normally I don't, but somehow the essentials are getting done. The biggest essential, taking care of my mom, gets first priority. Cleaning house or gardening just don't seem quite so important any longer.

Visit from a friend

Last weekend my one remaining friend from my college days came to visit. Although we had met a couple of times in the past few years (once in Monterey and once at her home in Washington), she hadn't been to visit me for more than 17 years. Yikes! She'd never seen my house and hadn't seen the valley area since it was so built up. Although my compulsive cleaning days are long since past, I'm still house proud enough to have spent the weekend and week before the visit cleaning and straightening frantically.

Carol was supposed to visit during the summer but we rescheduled until a time we thought my family life would be more settled. The timing worked out well. We spent one day with my mom, taking her to lunch and to see her old home and all her "stuff." We spent another day at the Jelly Belly factory and wine tasting. Another day we sat around and schmoozed. It's incredibly reassuring to talk with another person who knows your history, knows your family and is experiencing the same trials of getting older (everything from elderly stubborn parents to slower metabolisms to wrinkles).

Without a doubt my closest and oldest friend is my sis, but it's different. With my sis, my history is her history, my family is her family, my aging is her aging. There's no outside point of view, no gap in experience, no comparison of families. It's great to catch up when there's been a long time apart, reminiscing about people and places that you haven't thought of for decades. It's fun to trade stories of the past years, interesting to get another opinion.

Thank you Carol, for a wonderful break from real life. Let's do it again soon!

Moving and moving on

This summer my family was told by several doctors, in many specialties, that my mom would never recover from her hospital-caused mistaken over-drugging that led to psychosis and dementia. They said she might improve but she'd never be back to how she started, the day she was taken to the emergency room. They expected little cognitive and only partial physical rehabilitation. I'm quite happy to say they were full of shit.

These days my mom is living in a dementia oriented assisted living facility. When she was initially discharged from hospital #3 and delivered to her room she was confused, weak, slightly agitated. She spent most of her time the next couple of weeks in her own room; she had had enough of the 24 hour sitters watching her every move. When she did go into the common areas she didn't engage with the other inmates residents and in fact was frightened and creeped out by many of their behaviors (understandably). She had difficulty transitioning from sitting to standing and was assisted with many day-to-day tasks. After constant adjustment of her medications, physical therapy and time she is almost the same as she was back in June.

Almost, not quite. In some ways she's physically stronger than she was then. If she's not tired she moves well with a walker (and is actually willing to use it most of the time), she can walk stairs easier than she did, her endurance has increased. Her memory of the time when she "was someone else" is thankfully blank. When she tries to remember things from then we try to dissuade her since it was such an ugly time. Her short-term memory has suffered and her long-term memory isn't quite as sharp, but she's still improving so that may change.

All that means it's time for her to move on. When we placed her in the facility we were told something to the effect of when you move in, you don't ever move out. People don't recover from dementia, they just get worse. But when the dementia is in large part created by chemicals it can be reversed. My mom wants to get out of the "nuthouse" and away from the "crazy people." And we agree that she needs surroundings that are more stimulating and more open.

Now we're looking for a new home. She can't live on her own, she needs help with medications and meals and cleaning, and really needs someone to periodically check on her to make sure she is ok. She's willing to give up her independence to a point, but still wants to be able to come and go at her own whim. That's fine, but she can't drive again and that will be limiting (although she still has hopes that she'll improve enough that we'll return her car keys) (which won't happen). The type of place we want is an assisted living facility that also has transitional areas for nursing care and dementia care. Those places are few and far between.

My bro and I took my mom to see one such place yesterday. We had dinner in their very nicely appointed dining room (tablecloths and linen napkins and wait-staff included!), toured the spacious building, common spaces and activity rooms, watched some of the residents as they interacted and then looked at the personal rooms. They were small.

My mom moved last year from a very large crowded home, with a 1000 square foot living room, to her current 2 bedroom smaller unit. Now she's looking at something under 600 square feet total and she's freaking out. She has so much "stuff" that it'll never fit into something so small and she loves all her "stuff." Yes, her "stuff" is mostly incredible; antiques, rarities, collectibles, folk-art from around the world. But it's just "stuff." Until she's willing to part with some of it, she won't be able to move. Until we find a place that fits all of the family's criteria, and all of hers, she remains with the people she's fondly calling "crazy." Hopefully she'll get enough of crazy that she'll adjust her hopes and we can find an affordable, lovely, comfortable, stimulating and safe place that is acceptable to us all.

... and by the way

I finished the Chicago Marathon, I really did. I just haven't gotten around to writing about it (although I will, soon). The short version is that I had a good day. I was mostly able to stick with my plan and ended up finishing more than 10 minutes faster than expected (and 4 minutes slower than hoped for). This ended up being the coldest full marathon I've ever run and it reinforced the reason why I moved from Michigan after college: I truly hate being cold.

The weekend in Chicago with my friends was wonderful. It was relaxing and interesting and fun and expensive. My head has been spinning since I returned, real life intruding as it always does.

Except for the Nike Half Marathon this weekend I have no concrete plans for my next runs. There are races I very badly want to run but right now my schedule isn't my own to plan. I'm superstitiously afraid to register for anything in advance right now because I ended up canceling every plan this summer. I don't want to waste money and I don't want to raise my excitement level and then get shot down. I also feel incredibly guilty planning any time away from my mom, and guilty relying on my brother to take care of her while I play. So the future now is a gigantic blank slate. I guess I'll fill it in on a daily basis.

A marathon, a half marathon and an ... ultra?

Counting down the days (12!) until the Chicago Marathon. Run that, then count down the days to the Nike Women's Half Marathon a week later. Run that, then count down the days until -- well, maybe nothing. But maybe my first ultra.

I've been wanting to try an ultra (just a 50k, about 31 miles; I'm not totally insane) for several years and had set my 55th year (that would be now) as the time to get it run. I don't have much choice for ultras because I'm so uncoordinated. Most ultras are run on trails and I'm unable to even keep my footing on pavement. It would be disastrous for my skin, bones, muscles, tendons and sanity to even try to run on trails. That leaves the few local ultras that are on roads or asphalt paths.

There's a legend in the ultra world by the name of Helen Klein. Now 86 years old, she didn't even start running until she was my age. She discovered that she's a fast, efficient runner and loves distances. She's completed over 100 marathons and close to 150 ultramarathons. Yikes! She's set age records all over the place and although she's slowing down now she continues to run ("slowing" being relative of course; she's still faster than most people). She was the speaker at the Leading Ladies Marathon back in 2006 and I found her to be highly inspirational. She and her husband also put on a little race each year called the Helen Klein Ultra Classic, this year set for October 31st.

Early this year I set my sights on this race, feeling that Chicago would be a perfect test of my running ability and a perfect training run for this ultra. Of course, early this year I had no idea that my family situation would cause such upset and turmoil and lead to the cancellation of most of the plans I've made. I decided not to tell anyone since that would be a commitment, right? I didn't want to announce my plans and then (like almost every single plan I've made for the past few months) have to cancel. I can't reschedule a race like I've rescheduled the visit of an old friend (hi Carol!).

I think I'm in good enough shape to run the ultra (except for that whole tripping and falling thing) (and the breathing thing) (and the not-enough-time-to-train-properly thing). It's a perfect race for a beginner and even more perfect for a slow beginner. It's on a bike path for most of the distance, it's well supported, it's open for 10 hours for the 50k, some people walk the entire thing and the weather should be ok. I'm pretty sure I could do it in about 8 hours (give or take an hour).

What's the problem then? Same as it's been all summer. Just when I thought it would be safe to register, my mom's doc told us that she feels my mom will be ready to move from the dementia facility to a less restrictive assisted living facility at the end of the October (yes, she's doing that well). The race is October 31st. There's no way I can go away for a couple of nights, exhaust myself in the longest run I've ever completed, and still be available to help my mom.

Could I register at the last minute? Yeaaah, but with my propensity for planning ahead that doesn't sit well with me. I like to know what's coming up, what I need to prepare for, where I'll be and what I'll be doing. I've had enough of last minute changes this year, enough of being unsettled, enough of being on edge and not knowing what comes next. That isn't about to change so I hate to put my leisure activities (heh! running an ultra is a leisure activity!!) in the same unsettled category as the rest of my life.

So what will I do? Hell if I know.

The high cost of being sick

In the middle of all this hoohaw about health care and the debate about coverage and the yelling and lies and insinuations and "death panels" and "patriots" toting guns outside of the President's speeches, the talking heads are ignoring the little picture. On June 30th my mom went to the hospital with chest pains, was mistakenly medicated with inappropriate drugs that made her crazy, stayed in that one hospital for 13 days, went to a nursing home for a night, then to another hospital for another 9 days, then 4 days in assisted living, went back to hospital #1 due to a fall (caused in no small part by the medications), then spent 20 days at yet another hospital. Now the bills are appearing.

In the first hospital the room was $5,750 each day. The room ONLY. A baby aspirin, 81mg tab, was $18.94. Yes, $18.94 for a baby aspirin. Acetaminophen 325 mg, a very basic generic tylenol drug, cost $21.91 per tablet. In all, oral medications for the first hospital stay (including the ones that caused this whole problem) were over ten thousand dollars. That's not even including the injected drugs or the inhaled drugs which totaled more than another six thousand dollars.

This first hospital stay cost $140,700. That's not including the doctors: the hospitalists, the cardiologist, the psychiatrist, the therapists, the whothehellknowsists. They charge separately. If that isn't bad enough, there are two more hospitals which have yet to send an invoice or statement.

My mom has very good insurance, but even so this could cost her tens of thousands of dollars. What about someone who has no insurance? What about the poor schmuck who gets this statement from the hospital and owes every single cent? There are states where you can buy a lovely house for less than this episode.

It all makes me so angry I could scream. My mom is feeling better now, slowly rehabilitating her body and trying to stabilize with her new level of cognition. She's living in an assisted living facility geared toward dementia residents. There are people screaming all the time, people who walk in her room and get in her face, people who, frankly, scare the crap out of her by following her around and making weird noises. And this is one of the very GOOD dementia facilities. With some stability she may be able to go to a facility less geared toward dementia but she'll always need 24 hour care.

My mom is an elderly lady who had chest pains, got incredible full medical care (although she shouldn't have needed it if they hadn't made a mistake) and it could cost her every single cent she had saved despite the fact that she's insured. This isn't right, it isn't fair, and shouldn't happen in our wonderful country. Health care debate? To me there is no debate. We need affordable care with reasonable costs. We need politicians who don't accept money from the insurance industry or the drug industry or the hospital industry and then make decisions based upon that money. We need truth and honesty and civil discussion. We need change and we need it now.

It's getting easier

Last year was a mostly non-running year for me. Yes, I managed to run 10k during the triathlon, but that was it. The next race I attempted was a dismal failure because I hadn't been running enough. I started the year with a knee injury, had a back injury in the middle of the year and was just discouraged at the end of the year. I never had a decent run that was longer than about 7 miles and even those never felt comfortable.

This year started with long cycling miles and again no running. After the century in March I started running again. Nothing hurt, but it was hard because I hadn't been running regularly for so long. I was starting from zero and it was discouraging.

When I made up our training schedule for the Chicago Marathon I decided that we needed to have lots and lots of runs in the 13-16 mile range. After about a half dozen of those, it no longer feels unnatural to run for hours at a time. Sure, for several reasons there's a lot of walking involved but I'm doing the miles and they're not killing me.

Saturday, Anita and I ran almost 16 miles. We met in Danville way too damn early, 6:15 am. The plan was to run the 8 mile street route that included a couple of hills, then do out-and-backs on the Iron Horse. Unbelievably, it seemed if not easy, then at least not hard. The air was the clearest it's been for ages and for the first couple of hours my breathing was smooth enough for me to blab nonstop. When we finished I was tired, exhausted even, but nothing hurt.

Today I don't even feel like I ran long miles. My lungs don't hurt, my legs don't hurt and even after yet another sleepless night I'm not tired. Yay!

Yesterday afternoon I spent several hours with my mom. She's in an assisted living facility in Oakland that's for dementia patients. Mentally she's the sharpest she's been since all this started, but I think she's still a good 20% less competent than she was two months ago. Physically she's very weak, both in strength and coordination. She's probably very close to her new baseline and seemingly stable.

We've got appointments this week with her two new doctors and we'll know more afterward, including what type of living situation she'll need. I don't think that at this point she needs the very intense scrutiny and care she's receiving now but I also don't think she can live on her own. It's also unclear whether she is indeed stable, and whether any change in situation would set her back. But for now, at least I was able to talk with her. I didn't think I'd have that again.