Long run Sunday

We're just going to pretend I didn't disappear from this blog for 3 months, 'k?

I haven't been running too much lately. A combination of leftover trauma to my lungs from February's pneumonia, lack of a running buddy and good old sloth had me going 2 weeks, after the Oakland Half Marathon, without running a step. So of course to make up for it I jumped right in with both feet (because otherwise I'd have fallen over on my face) and decided to run 11 miles this morning.

That was made a little more challenging by my somewhat excessive consumption of alcohol and food yesterday. Not only was it the monthly knitting Saturday at Walnut Creek Yacht Club (including some truly excellent blush wine of which I did not drink an entire bottle, despite having been accused of such), but afterward I met my family for another very merry unbirthday party. A fabulous meal and a couple of dangerous The Fourth Regiment cocktails later and I was feeling just fine.

I didn't sleep well last night, thanks to the celebration, but I knew I was getting up to run. It was a beautiful morning; crisp and clear. I met Anita for the anticipated 11 mile trek to Moraga Commons and back and something happened. I felt, dare I say it, great. I was running very slowly but steadily, breathing well, feeling loose. Everything around us was spring; the trees were blooming or leafing out, the grasses and weeds were that delightful shade of green, poppies were waving their bright orange heads in the sun.

So I decided that I wanted to run to the top of the hill, just to see the area while it was still the gorgeous green. Of course, that meant adding a few miles. We decided we'd walk up the biggest hills and run the rest and we headed onward.

The waterfall was still pouring down and we paused to admire the water-bred rainbow. We ran to the Commons and continued past. As we started going up the big hill we saw it: the Easter Bunny! Well, maybe he wasn't the official EB, he was very small and fluffy looking, and didn't seem to have a basket filled with eggs. But he was our first bunny sighting of spring. Right afterward we saw our first butterfly of spring too.

The view from the top of the hill was as spectacular as we thought it would be. Everywhere were shades of spring green, one of the loveliest spectrum of colors around. Since we were there already, we ran to the end of the trail. At that point we knew we had 7 miles left to go.

We ran along, yelling at the cows grazing on the hills, pointing out the red tail hawks circling in the sky (be careful, little bunny!) guessing names of the flowers and trees. Yeah, we got tired. But we kept running, keeping mostly to our original 9:1 run:walk. Maybe by mile 12 it was getting to more like 8:2. But we kept running. And continued running past our cars because I like round numbers. Sure, we could have rounded up from 14.68 miles. But we'd feel much better to have that true 15 miles under our belts.

Oddly enough, nothing hurt afterward except for some chafing from my capri seams (and as for that, owie owie). Lungs ok, legs ok, feet ok, back ok, sinuses ok. I was hot and tired, sweaty and stinky, but I felt good. Amazingly good.

So it looks like I have to keep running, and running long runs, whether or not Anita is available. I need to run by myself during the week, whether or not I have company. It just feels too good not to.

Race season starts this week

Most of you know I love running races. Even if I'm just planning on cruising along at a slow(er than normal) speed, I love the hoopla, excitement, fuss, course support, other runners. Yes, I like small races too, the ones without the hoopla, excitement, fuss. Give me course support and enough other runners that I don't get lost and I'm happy. Throw in a shirt and a medal and I'm thrilled. Easily excited, that's me.

That's how I find myself with 6 upcoming races, starting this weekend in Nashville. Run a half marathon with my sister? Sure! Run a half marathon in San Jose? Yeah! Run a half marathon in San Francisco? Heck yeah! Run a marathon in DC? You betcha! Run a half marathon in Monterey? Of course! Run a half marathon in Las Vegas? Bring it on!

On top of that I have a couple of long training runs for the full marathon, the first of which was this past Saturday. My 20 miler went just about as expected: it was long and tiring. I was slower than I had hoped but I finished, always a victory. Bree and I were lucky with the weather (again) which was drizzly and humid and warm to start and overcast and humid to finish. Good training weather, if warmer than optimal. We ran together for about 5 miles then split off to our own paces and routes. As a treat I listened to music the last 8 miles, hoping it would give me a boost to keep going. It did. But 20 miles is 20 miles and it's a long time to keep running. I was happy as a clam to finish.

Along the way I had a close-up and personal encounter with a Great Blue Heron. This huge, majestic bird was posed along the trail, not 5 feet away from where I was running my 19th mile. I slowed to a walk so as not to scare it away (and because hey, it was my 19th mile) and it remained there, ignoring the passersby on the crowded trail. Amazing. I was also treated to views of all the other seabirds including the pelicans sunning their wings on pilings and egrets shuffling along the shallows. I saw one silly wabbit (fine, it was a jack wabbit) (I mean rabbit) playing chicken with cars along the road. In the dark the jack wabbit -- er, rabbit -- looked like a very misshapen kitten since I couldn't see the dark tips of it's ears. Once it got lighter out it was more obvious what type of critter it was.

I tried a new gel a mile 15, wanting to see how it was during a long run. My go-to gel is always Gu, normally the Espresso double caffeine flavor, sometimes the Berry or Vanilla or Tangerine or Blackberry. At some expo or other I had tasted one of their Pineapple Roctane gels and thought it was yummy. I hadn't tried a Roctane before and wondered if the added ingredients would boost my performance. It gave me a boost all right; almost boosted the contents of my stomach all over the trail. My mouth was happy with the taste but my stomach rebelled almost immediately. Luckily I had just 5 miles to go. Unluckily that would take me over an hour to do. Note to self: stick with the regular Gu that works so well.

A couple of days after the run my legs are still somewhat fatigued, a fact I noticed clearly while working with the trainer this morning. Since my knee is very tender (that same old problem) we skipped the toe taps and jumps and I'll be resting instead of running for a few days. I don't have time for any injuries or aggravations.

I fly to Nashville to join my sis on Thursday. The race is Saturday and I'm looking forward to it. It'll be interesting to run in the hot humid weather that's expected. We've had such a mild summer here I've forgotten how ugly it can get when it's hot and drippy. That should be enough to convince me to keep my speed and ambitions in check. This is supposed to be a fun race, a rest week, so I need to be smart about how I run. But it's a race. I never know until I toe the line how I'm going to feel, what the conditions are, how it will go.

Do you like races? Will you do anything for race bling? Would you sign up for 6 races in a season?

Runner Girl's Great Vermont Adventure

Last Thursday I gleefully hopped a plane to head to the eastern part of this country. I arrived on time in New York and proceeded to go nowhere fast. They were experiencing thunder and lightning at JFK and didn't think we should try to fly in it. Sissies. On top of my expected 3 hour layover, there were an additional 2 hours of delay. BORED! (Which is completely sad since I had 2 books, my knitting, several movies on my computer, airport internet, etc. etc.)

I finally arrived in Burlington, VT before midnight and made my way to the motel. Sandy had an easy drive up from New York and was comfortably snuggled in her bed. I made sure she was awake and we popped open a bottle of wine to celebrate seeing each other again. Chatter chatter until the wee small hours when we finally realized a little sleep would be helpful.

In a move that surprised both of us, we decided to actually go for the run we had talked about before sleeping. I slathered on sunscreen and dressed in a tank top and shorts - first time for sleeveless this season. We drove to the waterfront and after driving in circles for a bit, parked and started on our way. The plan was for 4 easy miles on the lakefront trail.

We were ignoring that "easy" means a different pace for us both. Although Sandy tried to slow down to my slug-pace, I'm easily rabbited and when she'd get ahead of me, I'd speed up too. The remarkable thing was that as long as I stayed slow enough, my breathing was better than it's been since that first cold I got this winter.

The trail on which we were running, the Burlington Bikeway, is part of the marathon route, toward the end of the race. I knew that even though it was "flat" or "flattish," the little changes in grade would drive me batshit beyond mile 20. The trail was well maintained asphalt with glimpses of Lake Champlain on one side and greenery or houses on the other.

It was fun to me to once again be in the type of vegetation in which I grew up (I grew up in a house, not a garden, but you know what I mean) (don't you?). I had just missed the Lilac bloom which was too bad since it's one of my favorite woody plants and they don't grow well in the East Bay. I seemed to hit peak Peony time though, and from what I could see they weren't the ant attractors that mine are. It was nice to see the varieties of maples and oaks and other hardwoods that don't grow as well (or as big) in the Bay Area, and the green green undergrowth of ferns and vines and flowers. I really felt completely at home. I also realized that I've quite forgotten the names of all the viney plants and wildflowers. They were pretty to look at, whatever they were.


It was a warm, breezy, sunny morning and after about 2-1/2 miles I started getting lightheaded. Because we had forgotten to eat anything or have coffee before starting. D'oh! Here I was, pushing it just a little past my comfort zone speedwise, and I was empty. Dummy. I should have known better. Luckily I had some Sport Beans in my pack and I knew it was only 4 miles. We made it to the end, feeling quite righteous.

After cooling down we returned to the motel for their free breakfast and then showers. We had a full day ahead of us and had to get on the road. Luckily Sandy had a GPS unit since the Gmap directions I had brought with me were complete confusion. We started out for our yarn crawl.

After a while of driving in circles we arrived at our first stop, Northeast Fiber Arts center. Since my stash is a bit out of hand I was only going to buy yarn if it was from a local sheep/spinner/dyer/company and whatdaya know, I found some. I bought a few skeins of a lovely electric blue hand dyed Vermont Border Leceister. [Note: this was very odd to me since I was reading John Scalzi's "The Android's Dream" which involves a sheep with bright blue wool, which I picture as looking exactly like this yarn. ]

I also fed my sock yarn addiction and bought a skein of Ella Rae Lace Merino. The shop was lovely and welcoming and the owner (I think she was the owner) showed me around and pointed out local yarns. The selection of yarns was great but I was being reasonable and stopped while I was ahead.

I thought See's was the candy store for knitters, but I stand corrected

That didn't stop us from moving on to the next yarn shop, Kaliedoscope Yarns. Although this looked from the outside to be someone's home, inside it was all yarn. Once again I was helped by the friendly staff, although they weren't quite as willing to just let me look at only the local items. Because of this, I walked out with a couple of skeins of Madeline Tosh DK Yarn in Tart as well as the relatively local (at least to a clueless Californian) Lobster Pot Yarn's Lobster Sox in Salt Rose (and I would have bought another skein in the gorgeous Lobster Bisque had it been in stock). If you're in the area I recommend visiting both of these shops!






We were getting hungry by then but didn't want to take too much time out of our busy touristing, so we found a local sandwich/Vermont-y store and got sandwiches. We gobbled them down and headed off to my real goal of the entire vacation, the Vermont Teddy Bear Company factory. That will be a story in itself. A long story with lots of pictures. And bears bears bears.

mine mine mine mine mine

After many hours (yes, we went well beyond "couple" and "few") we bid a fond, expensive farewell and left. Next stop, right up the road, was a brewery with free tasting. Marathon, schmarathon, we wanted beer!

The Magic Hat Brewing Company tasting room looked like a combination between a pub and a tourist store. I'm pretty darn certain I was the oldest person in there. Their beers were all listed on the wall and the kind servers poured us whatever we wanted. Between the two of us we tasted most of the choices, liking some more than others. We decided to buy a bottle or two for that night, although we never did end up drinking them (too much wine, I guess). Sandy got to take them home with her, lucky girl!

We were heading toward our motel when we remembered that we were supposed to go to the race expo between 4-7 pm. Funny, all that yarn and bears and beer and we forgot why we were in Vermont in the first place. We went to the expo, which I'll talk about in the race report, then finally made it back to the motel.We were exhausted by that time so we just had dinner at the motel's pub. Very healthy option: salad bar and wings. Well, we needed protein, didn't we? Then we headed back to the room to attempt to sleep.

We spent a night tossing and turning (usual for me, not as much for Sandy) and decided we should eat the free breakfast and get a move on. Again, we had lots to do. Our drive was a little longer this time, out to the Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream factory.

ice cream cows!

We were just in time to catch the next tour and walked around the factory. Since it was a Saturday, nobody was working on the floor but the guide was still able to show us how ice cream would be made, if anyone was working. At the end of the tour we got our taste of one of the newest flavors, Boston Cream Pie. Very delicious. In fact, when the tour guide asked us to please take seconds because otherwise they'd be thrown out, we were happy to comply.

waste not, want not

a decent tour would let us taste each of these

From B&J's we moved down the road a bit to A Special Place where our first stop was the Cabot Cheese Annex Store. We sampled all of their tasty varieties of cheddar cheese and ignored the fact that this wasn't quite the nutrition we needed for the race. We ignored that even more at the Snow Farm Vineyard Tasting area, where we tried mouthsful of their wines from the Champlain Islands.


Next up was Lake Champlain Chocolate factory outlet, where the samples were ok and the chocolate was expensive. We bought not one thing there, the first place we'd gone to without spending money. Since we were there, we also went into the Danforth Pewter shop and browsed through their pretty merchandise. I didn't get off as cheaply there, I bought a hair clip and a letter opener.


Since we hadn't tired ourselves out enough, we decided to next (and last for the day) check out the Church Street Marketplace. This is a street that's closed to traffic and made into a pedestrian mall lined by restaurants and shops. And cows. Seriously, the cows came home to Burlington. For a change, these didn't scare me in the least.

the cow jumped over the moon

how pastoral

a porcelain bovine

groovy, man

ok, maybe this one scared me

a little busy

gift wrapped!

I'm seeing spots

mooing in a winter wonderland

We decided it would be nice to rest a little so we headed back to the motel and both took a short nap. We wanted to be lazy once again and had dinner at the motel restaurant for a second time. We tried for an early night but it didn't look like either of us would be having a lot of sleep.

We were right. Although it was late for a marathon (the race didn't start until 8:00 am) the alarm went off at 5:40 am. I spent the night with bizarro oddball dreams and nightmares and didn't mind getting up to shower.

The race was long, and hard, and wonderful and the race report forthcoming.

Sunday afternoon we didn't make it back to the motel until 4-ish. We took turns standing under the pouring hot water in the shower and each climbed into our bed for a little shuteye. Not much sleep, mind you, just resting. The vast quantities of caffeine Gu kept me from sleep.

No motel restaurant for us again, we wanted pizza and beer! We queried the motel staff and were told of a close-by pizza joint, Marco's Pizzeria & Grill, that was very good. A couple of minutes later we had ordered a Go Greek pizza (feta, sundried tomato, artichoke and black olives), wings and beer (that protein thing, again!). Despite not having had anything to eat all day except performance food, our eyes were much bigger than our appetites.

While we were lazily eating our pizza and drinking our beer, we noticed (couldn't have failed to notice) 2 little kids running around the restaurant and playing together. They were loud but not screeching. The sound of their laughing and giggles was fun to listen to. It turned out the family was part of the owner's family. We were talking to the owner's sister and told her we had run the marahton. She was so impressed that she offered to buy us another round of beer. Neither of us was too inclined to drink more but neither were we inclined to move, so we happily accepted her gracious offer. When we got back to the motel Sandy had to pack, I just had to pack it in. I crawled into bed, read a little, and hoped the beer would help me sleep. Notsomuch.

Although I was staying another day, Sandy had to drive home. We had breakfast and decided to go to the waterfront and take pictures. Upon stepping outside we noted it was very hazy. And very smoky. As people who live (or lived, in her case) in a place where a season is called "Fire Season" we knew there was a big fire somewhere. We didn't know there was a huge forest fire in Quebec and the smoke was drifting southward and piling up over Vermont. It was way beyond nasty. Our photo op was spoiled by the thick haze. We went back to the race finish area and walked around a little, but our breathing was bad enough that we didn't go too far or stay too long.

pretend you can see New York and a lovely shoreline

Oddly enough we were getting hungry again so we decided to take another look at Church Street and find a restaurant. We walked up and down and the air was clearing just enough to make it ok to eat on one of the shaded patios. We picked one of the very similar restaurants and I had my annual or semi-annual Reuben (I normally don't eat beef, but I make that exception). Along with the brightly fluorescent orange sweet potato fries, it was utterly delicious. A couple of quick stops later Sandy packed up her car and deserted me (sorry Sandy, just kidding).

yum, orange food!

I intended to take a walk, or knit, or read, or load picture onto the computer. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a nap. Mostly a toss and turn, but I think I grabbed a wink or two. Afterward, the rest of the day went quickly. I did a little of this and that, went for a walk and got a sandwich for a late dinner, watched a little tv and went back to bed.

And that was it. A great vacation with a great friend in a great area. I can't say enough about the friendliness and kindness of the Vermonters we met. Almost everyone was welcoming to these Californians (which isn't always the case). Even the worn areas around Burlington are pretty and lush and green. When I win the lottery I'm getting a summer home there!

Slower than usual

It's currently my turn to have the office cold. I've had possession for the past week and I'm more than willing to pass it along to the next taker. Yes, it was only 3 months ago that I got the last cold that devolved into a sinus infection and bronchitis. Hopefully this one will depart my lungs and sinuses without having to resort to antibiotics. I've been making good use of OTC remedies though, popping pills and sipping syrups in hope of relief.

Despite not being able to breathe well, my longest training run for Vermont was scheduled for Saturday. Each night last week I went to bed hoping I'd be better the next day; week morning last week I wasn't. I was determined to do the best I could, knowing in my heart I couldn't run 22 miles but wanting to get 5 hours on my feet.

I planned the run for Alameda. Since Mary Ann had made a surprise visit to the area, she joined Anita and me bright and early for a couple of 6 mile loops. The first loop went very well, even though right now my "fast" pace is still about 13 minute miles. We chatted, admired the spring scenery, and ran along. Since Mare was getting over a cold and Anita will go along with whatever I decide, we slowed down even more on the second outing. I decided to just do an out-and-back that time and thus bypass the verdant weeds and grasses, hoping to skip a little pollen.

Bree joined us about a mile from our cars and ran back with us. We said goodbye to Anita and Mary Ann and headed out for the last 10 miles. By then I was completely pooped. Even walking briskly was hard for me, but I knew I needed the time on my feet. I was trying very hard not to move so fast that I'd wheeze since that would set off coughing.

By then it had warmed up a little, probably just about 60 degrees, but the cold cross winds were always in our faces. There were some clouds, and when the sun was covered and the wind blew it got very chilly. That was pretty good incentive to keep running instead of walking. The morning's intervals of 9:1 became 4:1, then 2:2, then finally 1:2. Sometimes we'd run to a light standard, or to a garbage can, or to a pole. But except for mile 17 where my exhaustion triumphed, we continued to run as much as I could.

It was great having Bree there encouraging me to run, cheering me on, keeping me moving. Seriously, I would have just collapsed on a park bench somewhere and snoozed for a couple of hours if I had been alone. I didn't get my 22 miles, or even 21, but I got 20.2 in the bag. And funny enough I finished at 4:59, just at the 5 hour mark that I had wanted (of course, I had wanted 22 miles at 5 hours, not 20 miles, but I'll take what I can get).

The one thing that kept me going was how glorious it was out there. Seriously, how damn lucky are we to have places like that in our neighborhood? ("Neighborhood" used very loosely here.) The Bay, the hills, bridges, wildflowers, gardens, egrets, ducks, geese, dogs, cats, millions of ground squirrels. All with a well tended multi-use asphalt path with fountains and bathrooms. Support your East Bay Regional Park District, because boy howdy, it would be much tougher getting out there while sick if all we had were busy urban streets for running.

I'm glad it's taper time now, time to start worrying about making the time cut-off at a race where the cut-off shouldn't be a problem. I'm appalled at how slowly I'm running and I hope that during taper time my cold, allergies, sinus woes, breathing issues and all that drippy stuffy wheezy crap is cleared up. My determination, stubbornness and will can only go so far, my body has to play along too. I've been looking forward to this race (and vacation!) for a long time. Three weeks from today I'll know my capabilities.

Mermaid Half race review (finally)

Last year I "competed" in the Mermaid Duathlon and decided that I liked the way they organized their races. I knew they held a half marathon in the early spring but it never fit with my schedule. This year the race had changed venues to the other side of the Bay, and was the day after my birthday. Since normally the only marathon/half marathon the weekend of my birthday is that famous one on the other side of the country (for which I will never run fast enough to qualify), I grabbed the chance for a (day after) birthday race and registered.

My training runs had been going well, even though my earlier half marathon in Oakland had, quite frankly, sucked (me, not the race). I was a bit concerned about the Mermaid Half since the pollen levels have been off the charts and my breathing has been poor. But the weather forecast was for a great day and I figured I'd enjoy myself no matter what.

I arose early, at 4:50 am, and forced myself to eat some breakfast. It's getting harder and harder to fuel before a run or a race; food of any type is completely unappetizing. I know I can't get past an hour of activity if I haven't eaten something like oatmeal but physically it's a struggle to choke it down. I met Anita, who had decided to run the race with me, at a parking lot in San Leandro and we drove together to Mountain View. I knew the start was in a park near Shoreline Amphitheater but the exact location was unclear. We did find the parking lot though, and were nice and early.

We parked and used the clean and fresh porta potties, then went to packet pickup. The goody bag was a very nice reusable bag, the tee shirt was good quality and cute. There wasn't much in the bag other than our bibs (with the disposable D timing tag), the shirts and a Luna Bar, along with a bunch of ads. The bag itself was the goody. And damn, for someone with borderline dyslexia, "goody" is hard as hell to type. It's also a very strange word to look at. Goody. Goody. Goody. Or, goodie.

Yeah. We went back and sat in the warm car for a while then waited in the rapidly lengthening line for the potties. It turned out that line wasn't long, it was the line to wash hands at the portable sinks, an option usually not available. Funny, at races without sinks everyone just walks away, but with a sink it become imperative to wash up.

In addition to the half marathon there were also a 10k, a 5k and a "mini-mermaid" race. The starts were supposed to be staggered with the half beginning first, but the loud speakers were very garbled and I don't think most women heard anything other than "start." There were clearly runners of the other races beginning at the same time as the half; the bibs were different colors.

We started off slowly in comparison with everyone else, but a bit quickly for us (like maybe 10 seconds per mile faster than optimal). It was overcast, breezy and cool and we knew it would warm up while we were out there. The crowd quickly thinned out along the path as we headed along the Bay.

The first part of the run was on asphalt trails and was very enjoyable. The scenery was lush and overgrown with the mustard plants taller than both of us. Other delicate wildflowers and grasses grew along the trail, leading to the Bay. All types of water birds (collectively to me as "ducks") and fowl ("geese") were watching us run past. We were enjoying the beautiful morning.

Then the trail changed to a dirt fire road. I immediately slowed down, even though the effort remained the same. The road at this point was well graded dirt and relatively easy for running (for someone who isn't as uncoordinated as I am). We continued winding along the road, slower and slower. Then the trail turned to ungraded, rocky rutted road, much harder to run on. I was sure I'd turn an ankle or fall if I didn't keep my entire attention on each step. Too bad, because it was really pretty along that part of the race.

The water stops were spaced a couple of miles apart and were manned by some of the friendliest students I've ever seen at a race. Normally anyone younger than 20's is a little grumpy at having to stand around for hours, but these (high school aged) students were wonderful and helpful.

The route was an out-and-back with a loop so we got to see everyone running back toward the start. There were a couple of incredibly speedy women and each one took the time to smile or wave to cheer for those of us plodding along at the rear. And plodding we were. By the turnaround my lungs were heavy and wheezy and my legs were tired from wobbling on the rocks. I couldn't wait to get back to the paved portion of the run.

Slower and slower, until I was sure that we were going to have the chance to be DFL, something I intended to take great pride in. But no, there were a couple of girls who were challenging us for that "honor." We ran when we could, walked when we couldn't. The sun came out, the breeze increased, and we marveled at the lovely scenery around us. We made up names for plants and birds, something easy for 2 middle aged women who don't see that well. Blue duck, huh?

We got back to the pavement and were able to pick up our pace a little but by then I was burned out. Then we saw the return route wasn't quite the same as the start; we left the pavement and returned to dirt. We could see the finish line and could also see we weren't last. Anita fell back behind me; as a birthday present I got to finish first. Heh. "First" being relative since 98% of the runners had already finished.

We were handed a bottle of water and a little bag containing our medal/necklace. There was a pancake breakfast but as usual my stomach was in no shape for food. There was fruit, pancakes, juice, candy. A group of booths were set up with different vendors including Luna, a big sponsor of the race. We wandered through as we cooled down, looking and tasting. The award ceremony had taken place some time before we got there. The last few finishers wandered across the line and the race remained open until they crossed.

I was again impressed with the quality of the race, especially considering how much cheaper it was than the big 'uns. Everything essential (water and electrolytes, well marked route, porta potties), good premiums (the bag, the shirt and the necklace), food at the finish, friendly support personnel. Throw in a gorgeous route in spring and I'd do this race again in a heartbeat - assuming I get my breathing under better control.

Afterward my lungs still hurt, badly. But I was heartily amused when I discovered that I was third in my age group; because Anita dropped back and let me cross first, I placed in the race! Too bad the award ceremony had taken place earlier and you have to be present to get any awards, but I still get a giggle that someone as slow as I am can place.

Return to the hills

A couple of years ago when I screwed up my knee, I quit running or walking hills; it just hurt too much. I didn't mind little inclines or declines but even walking up steps was bothersome. When we decided on a marathon last year we picked the flattest one around, Chicago. Our training included no hills whatsoever and that suited me and my knee just fine.

This year I decided I wanted to run Vermont, so hills are back in the picture. Our longer runs have had a little hill here, a little hill there. But nothing like the hills I'll face in the marathon. Seeing that the race has a 6 hour cut-off and seeing that I'm running slower than I ever have before, I realized that I need to get a bit of hill training. Or a lot of hill training.

The return of Daylight Savings Time meant I could do a short hilly run after work. We've avoided Inspiration Point (and the damn cows) except for a couple of easy walks, but it was time to give them a try. Yesterday after work I met Anita for a planned 4 mile run. Our (my) intent was to do a firm 9:1 for 2 miles, turn around, and 9:1 for as long as we could before I blew up on the hills. It actually worked as planned, with a couple of exceptions.

We started out slowly (... like I'm running any other way lately) and the first hill had us both huffing and puffing. I literally gasped my way to our first walk break and never did catch my breath before that short little minute was gone. We made it through the first mile, continued on. A 9:1 with our pace usually has us running the hill leading up to the short forested part and sure enough, despite checking my watch desperately to find the walk-9, it was all run. I was determined to suck it up (heh) and keep going, so keep going we did.

When we got to the 2 mile marker I decided we should go out to the 2.5, turn around, run our complete 4 miles and then walk the rest. We kept going but right around the corner, to my cownsternation, was a large bovine on the side of the trail. My heart sped up a bit, but I decided to tough it out and edge around the far side. We ran a bit further and as the path opened up I saw on the other side of the trail: 3 more big -- really big -- cows gazing at us. Getting to the 2.5 marker would have meant squeezing past in both directions.

That was all I needed. We turned it around and hoofed (heh) it back down the trail, away from all that beef. Seriously, I wish they didn't cause my heart to race, my teeth to clench, my brain to freeze. It's dumb. It's silly. But the whole thing about a phobia is that it's irrational. Cow anxiety, sheesh. As if I don't have enough things in life now making me anxious.

It turned out to be for the best. Except for one slightly extended walk break we 9:1'd it right on back again, including the hill I had said on the outward bound that I'd be walking on the return. Yeah, I was wheezing like a bellows and at one point I think my quads were yelling loudly enough to be heard at the Golden Gate, but I kept on running. Heck, it was just 4 miles, right?

What made this a good run was the scenery. Yeah, it was gorgeous. From the views straight across the Bay, as far as that Golden Gate, to the vistas of the spillways of the reservoirs in the other direction. It was every shade of green imaginable. The wildflowers were yummy yellow, baby blue, sparkling purple and orange orange. We saw a murder of crows soaring on the thermals and perched on the pylons. The lowering sun, blowing wind and low-60's temp created the perfect conditions for running.

Today my legs are a little sore, my lungs are very irritated, but my spirit is high. I'm a bit more confident that the run in Vermont will go well, including the hills. I'm hoping to get to IP several more times before the race, increasing the mileage and my hill stamina. I'm glad I got to see the area in all it's spring glory!

First run of Spring

I realize that technically it isn't Spring. I also realize that it isn't even my first run this week. Today was the first time this year I felt it could be light enough after work for me to run alone, safely and in the daylight. I've been slacking on my running, slacking on my cross-training and all that slacking is making me grumpier and crankier and sadder. I decided I'd run after work come what may and if it ended up raining on me, or if it got dark before I finished, tough luck.

But it was gorgeous out. Probably mid to low 50's. Storm clouds passing by but never dropping rain. The sun low but still in the sky. Very little wind. The recent rains have left everything looking clean and fresh and growing. The grasses were that lovely shade of new green, bending in the slight breeze. Fruit trees had their fragile pink or white blooms. A few early poppies were closing up tightly for the evening to come.

I slowly wheezed my way along the trail, enjoying every breathless (literally) moment that I was running. Pollen is not my friend but it was so enjoyable running off a cruddy work day that I didn't mind my lungs working so hard. I may have scared a few people as I noisily gasped my way along the trail but I smiled to let them know I wasn't at risk for dropping dead in my tracks.

When I finished I felt fabulous. Tired, sweaty and dripping,wheezing. But fabulous nonetheless. Not a traditional runner's high, just a run well done, an accomplishment of which I was absurdly proud. My plan and my hope is to do this at least a couple of times each week after work. I doubt I'll get anything else done tonight but I don't care. Once again, I am a runner.

I fought the lemon tree and the lemon tree won

In the past I've written about my craptastic gardeners. A typical mow-and-blow company, once in a while they'll get bored and try to pretend they know something about plants. Their biggest thing is taking a hedge trimmer to something that isn't a hedge. They've frequently mutilated my jasmine, which is almost a hedge but needs to be cut by hand because of the way it loops back on itself (and the way the leaves will die if there's any damage). The gardeners have also butchered my lemon tree, despite my telling them over and over to leave it alone.

For some reason they seem to think a nice, tight, round shape is suitable for a tree. Nuh uh. It's a tree dammit! A fruit tree! Where you have to be able to pick the fruit, let alone have sun and air for the fruit to grow. I've been busy enough this summer that I've rarely even looked at my garden, let alone done anything. I saw several weeks ago that they had attacked my tree but I didn't have time to do anything. Once again, insomnia to the rescue. I was awake early Sunday morning and decided to go spend some time in my garden before it got hot.

I wore long pants but it was already too warm for long sleeves. I wore gloves, but the thorns on the tree are long enough, sharp enough and strong enough that I think I'd need steel gloves for them to do any good. My arms look like I was attacked by a pack of feral cats. I had to reach into the interior of the tree to remove the last of the previous season's fruit (yuck - big and squishy and purple-ish green and moldy and diseased). Way into the interior, because otherwise the fruit had already been picked. Ouch. I had to reach into the middle to cut back the suckers, so overgrown that they were almost branches. Owie. I had to cut away some dead wood, and it needed to be cut back right to the main trunk. Youch. By the time I had the tree looking again like a tree (instead of some ornamental ball) I had blood literally dripping down my arms. Oooh.

Then, just to make sure I was grimy enough, I cut back a lot of the jasmine. Jasmine "bleeds" this sticky, milky fluid. I ensured that I'd have to scrub those new scratches just to get the gooey stuff removed. I wasn't able to finish everything since my garbage can was full, but my yard looks vastly improved. I'll still need to cut more and hopefully the gardeners will stay away from my plants.

You might be wondering why I don't fire the bums. This is the 3rd gardening company I've had since I decided that I didn't want to cut my lawn myself, about 9 years (oddly enough just about the same time I started running marathons; go figure). The last company was good, but the owners retired and sold the business to their workers. I've called around, tried to find another company that won't charge an arm and a leg but still understands plants, but apparently there is no such thing. I'll probably start looking again when (if) my life quiets down, but for now I'll just keep gritting my teeth, ripping up my arms, and hoping for the best.

Now that it's summer

The Bay Area finally noticed that summer has officially started and presented us with glorious weather. The sky right now is about as blue as you'll ever see when you're staring wistfully out of your office window. While I'm not a big fan of running or cycling in it, the wind is fascinating to watch as it blows bits of the overgrown Eucalyptus trees all over the place. I see that the temp is currently 68 degrees, although I'm shivering in my over-air conditioned office. I'd love to be outside.

I'm pretty sure that back when I was about 30 I thought that by 55 I'd be seriously considering retirement, that I could do whatever I'd want because I'd be so financially secure that I wouldn't have to work. Uh, right. Although I'm feeling much older than then, I'm still thinking it will be at least another 10 years before the retirement bug bites me hard enough to get out of here.

All of which comes down to this. Why can't we be like civilized nations where hard-working people get several (or many) weeks of consecutive vacation time in the summer? Why do we feel guilty leaving work for longer than a week, why do we feel indispensable, why do we think things would fall apart without us? Or why do we feel that in this economy we're lucky to have a job at all, and if we take any vacation time the job might not be waiting for us when we return?

[edited to add: I thought I posted this yesterday after I wrote it. Whoops!]

Take time to smell the flowers

Spring is my favorite time of year. Although the East Bay doesn't have traditional seasons there are still plants that flower now and at no other time. The almost overwhelming scent of jasmine wafting throughout my house; the delicate smell of peonies on the other side of the yard. Deep greens, crisp whites, pink, red, purple and all shades in-between.


As I sit in my favorite knitting/reading/tv watching spot I only have to turn my head to the right to see this glorious sight:


A few feet across the yard I get close-up views like this:


Only one problem with spring: a-a-a-CHOO!

Keep the sharp instruments away

While gardening today I had another example of why I shouldn't. Somehow I'm managing to slice or impale some body part almost every time I'm in the yard. Today I was trimming back some branches from my beautiful backyard maple tree (too much shade on my struggling lime tree). I guess I didn't see that my hand was in the way of the pruning sheers so I made an incision in my palm. Sheesh. I have to admit, though, that the red dripping on the green leaves was very pretty.

My wall of jasmine smells so astoundingly wonderful that I wish I had the capability of smelloblogging. Maybe we could convince Blogger to come up with an app for that?


On Saturday I ran 10 miles with Anita on the Lafayette-Moraga Trail. It was the best run this year, possibly the best run in over a year. It just felt right. We did a 9:1 run:walk for almost the entire run excepting the time I was choking on a gel and the time I had a crying jag (don't ask). It was cold and windy, probably low-50's when we started and maybe mid-50's when we finished. We had an unusual but welcome tail wind for the last 5 miles and that helped. We started slower but our overall average was 12:30 and the entire run I felt comfortable. I think keeping our mileage at the 10-ish range will help our endurance and rebuild my confidence in my running. I'm looking forward to See Jane Run Half Marathon next weekend.

Since I've registered for the Mermaid Duathlon (which is in 2 weeks) I felt it would be a very good idea if I did a brick training. I haven't done that since the tri last year and I've forgotten how to transition. Not the change-clothes part, the use-different-muscles part. The du is 1.5 run, 10 bike, 2.5 run. I wanted to do something similar but save the full distance for the race.

Sunday morning I left my house and ran out a half mile, turned around and ran back home again. I scurried to change shoes/helmet/gloves/jacket and popped onto my bike. I dithered for a moment as to which direction I should go and decided that heading south was good. I went down to Dublin, up and around a neighborhood and then back north again. Part of my brain was telling me to take it easy since it was training; the other part of my brain was telling me to push it to see what I could do. It was cold and windy again, a swirly wind that would smack me alternately in the face and crosswise.

When I arrived back at my garage I had ridden 9.5. I did another quick shoe/hat change, headed back out and Holy Sneakers Batman! I had completely forgotten that wobbly-legged feeling of running after cycling. My legs weren't exactly fatigued, but they weren't working right either. After about a quarter mile I felt like I was back in the game and I pushed on. I had that same half/half brain talk going on, with the additional voice saying I was only going 2 miles total during that leg so I could push it.

My workout ended about 1:25 after I began with 1m run, 9.5m bike, 2m run. The first pre-ride mile was 11:22, much faster than it should have been. The first post-ride mile was 11:16 and what the hell is up with that? My last run mile was 11:37, still faster (much faster) than normal. My cycling average was about 13, mostly due to the wind.

I'm feeling more secure about the real race now. The run is on dirt so I know I'll have problems (and slowing) there and the crappy revised bike route is 3 tight loops where I know I'll have to slow way down to make all the turns. Despite that, I know I can do it and do it without beating myself up too badly. I also know I'm probably going to be racing it harder than I had originally anticipated.

If you'll excuse me now, I think I'll go play with one of these:

Smells like summer

Something about flowers in bloom and 98 degrees means summer to me. A wall of fragrant jasmine, giant peonies, sweet lemon flowers among the thorns. Smoggy blue skies tinged with brown around the edges. Time to run!

So run we did. On Saturday Bree, Anita and I were joined by Ellen at the Alameda Ferry parking lot. We were hoping it would be cool along the water and we were completely disappointed. Usually there's a cool strong breeze making up for the total lack of shade along the route but it was only a measly fluff of wind here and there. It was hot, the hottest weather we'd run in this year. So to gradually acclimate ourselves to to the heat we decided on a short run.

Or, that would have been the smart thing to do. In our my quest to get up to double digits we were scheduled to run 11 miles and I didn't want to change that. I'm afraid that if we change the schedule this early in the season it will just be too easy to change it later. That meant running, walking or crawling 11 miles however we could.

Soon after we began our group split up since Ellen is speedier than we are, and Bree was running a 4:1 while Anita and I were running a 9:1. We all met up at Crown Beach, halfway along, and ran together again for a short while. Once again Ellen pulled ahead, but we stayed with Bree for a couple of miles. At that point it because a chore to get done with, an obligation, instead of just a fun run. It was hot, I was sweaty and verging on overheating.


But finish it we did! It was ugly, it was slow, and there was way more walking than made me happy but it was still 11 miles. I was literally wringing, dripping wet. Sausage fingers and a slight dehydration headache reminded me that I wasn't ingesting enough electrolytes with too little water. That would be why they're called practice runs, right?

I don't understand why it's so hard, why it isn't getting any easier. Granted, we're increasing mileage constantly. Also granted, it was our first hot long run of the year. Finally granted that the air quality wasn't too good. However and what the hell? I haven't had a good run in double digits since early last year. I'm happy that my knee and back are ok for now but I have no endurance or stamina. Even the short easy runs feel hard. That has to change.

Oh! Those little black bits on the lovely flowers? Ants. Lots of ants. Zillions of ants. I won't be picking the flowers and bringing them into the house no matter how lovely or fragrant. Ew.

It's a beautiful morning

The sky is blue, the air is clear, the wind is light, the temperature comfortable. Flowers, trees and shrubs are in bloom and the grass is green again. It's a gorgeous East Bay morning and the reason I live here. A day like this tickles my fancy and warms my heart. It makes me think anything is possible. I feel upbeat and positive and happy and perky.

I dream of long bike rides, quiet runs and brisk walks. I think of birds chirping and bugs chittering and the feel of air moving along my face.

Too bad I'll be spending my day sitting inside at a desk.

Mole or gopher?

During each of the first several winters of the years after I bought my house I planted dozens (hundreds) of flower bulbs. All different types and colors, lovingly plopped into the ground in the front and the side flower beds. I had 4 or 5 glorious springs with massive displays of flowers that lasted a couple of months each year.

That all ended a few years ago when some burrowing pest decided to make a smorgasbord of my beds. This mole or gopher, or families of moles and gophers, must have thought they had found heaven. It (they?) devoured almost all the bulbs, dug tunnels through the flower beds and deep holes in the lawn. I wasn't happy (actually, I was livid) but also wasn't going to poison the damn thing just to keep my yard pretty. Too many neighborhood cats and dogs made a habit of wandering through my yard and I didn't want to chance killing anyone's pet.

Gopher/mole finally decided he had eaten everything tasty and moved on to greener pastures. There were a few straggly, lonely bulbs left that would shoot up a flower in the spring but I decided not plant more; why put temptation in the way of a pest? Mole/gopher and I lived in a state of peace; I stepped around the holes on the lawn and it consumed someone else's yard. Until about 2 weeks ago.

I have a "mow and blow" gardening company take care of my yards, even though they're supposed to be full service. I never see them since they come while I'm at work. The couple of times I've happened to be home I was unable to communicate with the workers since they (at least pretend to) speak no English. A few weeks ago I got fed up with the state of my yards and wrote a long letter to the owners of the service. Part of my complaints centered on the fact that they had blown away all of the topsoil in all of the flower beds. I realized they would probably ignore my letter but then one day I noticed the ground around some of my plants had been disturbed.

It looked odd and at first I thought it had been a skunk; there were what appeared to be claw marks (but skunks would have torn up the lawn too). Then I decided it must have been a small garden rake since the lines went around the plants. It appeared first in the front, then on the side, and the next week I noticed it in the back yard. Since I've been spending more time in my yard, sprucing it up for the summer, I know what should be where and how it should look and it was definitely looking different. I had to face the sad fact that the pest had returned.

I've been fixing and replacing the outside lights around the house. I went to put a new one in the ground yesterday and an entire tunnel collapsed. Crap. Then I planted a small azalea and another tunnel collapsed. Double crap. On the one hand I didn't have to dig through the very hard dry soil. On the other hand, where the heck is the soil from the tunnels being deposited? There has to a spot with mountains of dirt that I didn't see it. On the first hand, nice aeration of tightly packed dirt! Back to the other hand, there's no soil around the roots of my shrubs! I don't know what to do. Any suggestions out there in blogland?

Happy Earth Day!

Today in celebration of the environment you should go outside, take a deep breath, hug a tree. Unless you have breathing problems and live in the Bay Area; don't breathe deeply of the polluted air or the high pollen count. And make sure that the tree you're hugging doesn't have thorns or streams of ants or dripping sap.

While there is great dispute as to the cause, there is widespread agreement that the Earth's climate is changing. More storms, more drought, more melting of ice caps and freezing of Dakotas. Most of us have recently said that we can't remember another time when it's been so hot (or so cold, or so dry, or so wet, or so stormy or just so different from what we're used to). I think it's partially because the human brain has a great ability to forget discomfort (which is why we run marathons). But mostly it's climate change. We're a wonderfully prosperous nation with a huge sense of entitlement. Ease and disposability have been the way to go with no cares that our children will not have any resources for the same comfortable lifestyle.

What can you do about this? Wake up! Jeez, it's not like it's not all over the media. There are tons of places with hints for the greening of the planet. Go to a library, pick up a newspaper, turn on your computer. I'll sit here and wait, while I sip my non-sustainable coffee in my non-recyclable cup and then go get a plastic bottle of water to wash it down. Ooops. Let's look to ourselves before preaching to others.

It's also Administrative Professionals Day. Happy day to all those office workers (mostly women) who make business and commerce flow while the bosses (mostly men) take all the credit. Go hug a file cabinet -- oh wait, that's not nearly as much fun as hugging a tree. As a career "administrative professional" who got a degree in forestry (which is why I'm an administrative professional ...) I feel like today was made for me. Anyone else want to lobby to make this a national holiday day off?

Moving along

One of the prettiest places in the Bay Area, in my opinion, is the Nimitz Trail at Inspiration Point. So it stands to reason that I'd take my sis and bro-in-law for a walk there while they were visiting. I've dragged them up there before but I can't help showing off the beauty of where I live. The one fly in the ointment is the vast number of cows hanging out on the trail.

Anita met us there Saturday morning for a scheduled 4+ mile walk. Seriously, the length of the walk would be determined by cowage. It was a crisp, clear morning and we could see for miles. Anita and I had fun pointing out our favorite sights and probably got a bit annoying with our enthusiasm. I mean, how many times can someone listen to someone else gushing about the view of the Bay? Or the view of the bridges? Or the view of San Francisco? Or the view of the valley with Briones Reservoir glistening in the sunlight? Or the blue wildflowers (which we still are unable to identify)? Or the poppies or the bunnies or the eagles? Come to think of it, I'm surprised they didn't just take off running and leave us behind.

As we got close to the 2 mile marker we could see a large herd of cows off to the side but they were behind a fence. Except for one lost mama standing on our side of the fence right next to the trail. I hid behind my companions and made it past, but then we turned the corner and realized that another herd was on our side of the fence. Next to the trail. On the trail. Surrounding the trail. I thought I could suck it up, but decided it wasn't worth the adrenaline rush so we turned around just before the 2-1/2 mile marker. I'm glad we did, both to keep the encownters to a minimum but also because by the time we finished, my legs were tired from the hills.

On Sunday the three of us wanted to actually get in a run so we decided on the pancake flat Iron Horse Trail. We decided a half hour out, half back. I warned them about the grade on the trail; it's much easier going out than returning. My sis took off and my BIL steadily increased the distance between the two of us. I was trying to go easily but I'm having consistent difficulties with my legs going faster than my lungs can suck in air.

To purposely slow myself down I was run:walking a 9:1, and checking Mr. Garmin regularly to make sure I didn't speed up. Despite that I was tired at 2 miles and decided that 4 miles would be a good workout, even if it was shorter than an hour. I turned around and headed back up (literally up) the trail and discovered for myself how much harder it was in that direction. But it was a beautiful morning, clear and bright and sunny and cool and breezy, and I was determined to enjoy myself.

I finished my run with about a 12:15 average. Not too bad, not too good. The last half averaged about 15 seconds per mile slower than the first, a little slower than I had expected. Afterward I was tired but also had that "hey I'm a runner again" feeling.

Slowly I'm getting it back. Slowly I'll increase my consistency. Slowly I'll run and slowly I'll re-convince myself that indeed I can run distances. Slow isn't that bad if at least I'm moving forward.

Peace and peanut butter

I had the best Saturday ever. Ok, maybe not EVER ever, but for a very long time. I got up early, drank some coffee while I read the newspaper. Then I found a book and sat on the sofa reading until it warmed up outside. Then I went and sat outside reading. When I got too warm and a little worried about too much sun I went back inside, sat on my comfy chair and continued reading. When I finished that first book I read another. When it got late I went to bed. The end.

Normally the only time I sit and read all day is when I'm sick (and then I don't enjoy it because I'm sick). I just don't have the time to do that otherwise, no matter how much I love to read. I can't justify spending the entire day doing, well, nothing. Yes, I know that reading isn't nothing, but in my society just sitting around all day constitutes sloth. Well, for one lovely day I was slothful. A slight nagging guilt hovered over me all day but I ignored it.

Of course nothing that I had to do just went away because I wished it would (I guess the lantern, the first star bright and the wishbone were off their feed). Sunday was chock full of things to do.

I got up early to meet Bree and Anita for a run. We planned on an easy 4 miles, thinking that sooner or later 4 miles will be easy again. It wasn't easy, wasn't pretty, but we got it done. It was a lovely day with a surprising headwind on our return journey. We were all bothered by the pollen in the air. I don't want to complain about it since it was truly lovely outside. The sun was out, it was cool enough for a good run but warm enough not to be cold, the sky was a brilliant clear blue, the air smelled good, the grass (and weeds) were that bright spring green, the tree were in flower and wow, just perfect. We ran, we walked, we talked a lot and it was over too soon. I think one reason I like long runs is that it's an excuse to spend more time blabbing with buddies.

After that it was mom time, doing the usual. I came home and faced lots of laundry, bills, house straightening and for once, my taxes. Yep, finally got them ready to send off. Then I sat down and browsed around trying to decide on a new computer before this once plotzes permanently and irrevocably. I think I know what I'm getting and I'll decide tomorrow after checking with some of the guys at work.

Oh, the peanut butter? Lately there has been no food that has sounded particularly good to me, nothing really tempting. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I haven't eaten anything, it's just that nothing has tasted good. I've eaten the frozen crap dinners that I have, or stuffed some chicken and veggies in a tortilla, or just had popcorn and ice cream (healthy!). I don't eat a lot of peanut butter since the calories and my body aren't happy with each other. But tonight that's what sounded good. I had bought some cherry preserves for when my sis and bro-in-law come to visit since I had to throw out the jar that was in my fridge (it was blue -- blue strawberry jam -- and fuzzy -- ew). I pulled some slightly freezer-burned bread from the freezer, toasted it, spread on some crunchy pb and cherry j and yum, best food in several days. Liked it so much I went back for seconds, which would be worse if the bread hadn't been the tiny end pieces left of the loaf. Tasty, and now I don't need peanut butter again for a long time.

Great. Now I'll have to eat real food.

Solvang Century ride report

DISCLOSURE: My memories of the ride itself are a little confused. I can't remember exactly what happened exactly when. Please forgive me if I refer to someplace at the wrong time, or some time at the incorrect distance, or if I just scramble the whole thing up. What I remember is here, in whatever order I seem to remember. I suppose I could browse through other ride reports and get it straightened out, but I want this to be what I went through, not what someone else experienced.

I took Thursday and Friday as vacation days. Although I travel to lots of races, none of them have required cycling gear except the triathlon. I was nervous about forgetting -- oh -- anything, and wanted Thursday to pack in peace. By the time I hopped into bed Thursday night my car was packed up and ready to go.

Bree met me at my house Friday morning and we transferred her bike and gear to my car. Although she accused me of being Count Pakula there was still a bit of room for her to load up a couple of things. We stopped to pick up coffee and hit the road at 8:40 am.

Long drive. We stopped once to find a bathroom (all that hydrating) and once for lunch. As we drove we pointed out hills that we hoped we wouldn't be climbing during the century (and it turned out that one we only jokingly included as a probable due to its very large size was in fact one of the larger hills we climbed). We arrived in Solvang, Buellton actually, in very good time and went into the hotel to see if we could check in early.

Bree was able to get her room. The hotel had no record of me. As I steamed and fumed the ("I'm in training") clerk repeatedly tried my name and found nothing. I called our team manager and discovered that although she was in the hotel, she was involved in a staff meeting. While I knew that I wouldn't have to sleep in my car no matter what, I didn't need the extra worry and stress.

When the meeting was over our manager pointed out to the hotel manager that my name was indeed on the list that TnT had sent. It was at the top of a page in what looked to be only a header row so their missing it wasn't terribly surprising, but it was there nonetheless. The hotel manager got me a room, apologising repeatedly and asked me if she could send a few sodas or something to my room. I said a bottle of white wine would be nice and she said she'd have it sent along.

I had enough time to unload my car and change into cycling gear before we were supposed to meet for a tune-up ride. Because not everyone arrived at the same time, we set out in groups. It was a short ride, just down the road to Easy Street. I'm not making that up. We turned around and were able to try out all our gears, the brakes, everything on the bike. When I got back I looked at my tires since we had ridden through a patch of broken glass. I pulled a couple of tiny slivers out of my front tire and was sure I'd have a flat tire in the morning. Luckily this isn't foreshadowing. My tire was fine through the whole ride.

The pasta dinner was the usual TnT affair; pasta, salad, chicken, bread, speeches, the video (a new one that didn't leave me in the slightest bit weepy), more talks, Go Team! In addition to our San Francisco Chapter, there were the Los Angeles and Northern Texas Chapters attending. It was a large, boisterous crowd like most TnT pasta parties. The biggest difference at this party (to me) was they announced my name as one of the two Triple Crown earners. After that people started congratulating me and I told them to cut it out, they were jinxing me. Ride first, Triple Crown after.

We met up afterward for final instructions and arrangements and talks from Coach Cyd and Coaches Beth and Lorraine. Our little group were all given pieces of purple boa and pipe cleaners to attach to our helmets. I thought it was a little overboard and precious, but it turned out to be a great idea.

Bree and I drove over to the ride expo since we had picked up our bibs at the TnT table in the hotel. The race branded gear wasn't exciting. An expensive jersey out of odd mesh-like fabric, a jacket, a white tee shirt, a twill hat. There were several booths selling cycling gear and nutrition. We wandered around and decided we didn't need to buy a thing.

Although it was advertised that registration included a tube of Chamois Butt'r, a Clif Shot and a Mojo Bar we only received the tube of road rash remedy. It looked like the registration table at the expo didn't have any either, so maybe there was a foul-up somewhere. We also received a Solvang Century magnet with the logo.

Back to the hotel and what seemed both like 15 minutes and 15 hours in bed trying to sleep. I didn't get less sleep than normal before a race but that's not saying anything. I was up before the alarm, turned on the coffee pot and ... turned on the coffee pot and ... turned on the coffee pot ... realized the coffee pot wasn't working. I took a quick shower, threw on half of my clothes and went down to the lobby and bought a cup of coffee. Wait. That sounds like I went down to the lobby half naked and I didn't. I should have said that I threw on the bottom layer of clothes. Back to my room and finished getting ready and was in the lobby with my bike by 6:45 am, our designated meeting time.


I wasn't too hopeful that we'd start at our 7:00 am planned time since we hadn't yet started on time all season. There was a lot of hustle and bustle and scurrying and hurrying and pictures and waiting for it to be 7:00 at which time we actually rolled out. Whoohoo! Let's do the damn thing!

We started off, boas flying in the breeze, in a tight paceline. At least I think it was a tight paceline; I was toward the front. It was still dawn, not fully light out but it got brighter as we rode on. My new cycle computer was working very well proving that simple and inexpensive isn't a bad thing. Mr. Garmin, however, decided to go signal-less for about 3 miles before I realized it wasn't recording. D'oh! I fiddled with it while trying to maintain my place in line and finally got it working. No big deal, but my geeky side was a little disappointed I wouldn't have full stats for the ride.

The little gap in the red route is where Mr. Garmin was taking a nap

For the first part of the ride Coach Beth rode in front, keeping our speed low enough on the flats that we mostly stayed in a group. The couple of early hills were enough to spread us out along the route. We all met up at the first SAG stop at about 23 miles. In what would be repeated throughout the day, I was ready and willing to continue on much sooner than the rest of the group. Also in what would be repeated, before we left our group had a "mission moment." We would talk about either one of our group honorees, or someone's personal honoree, have a moment of silence and then shout out "go team!" before rolling on. Each and every one of those moments got me teary, thinking about my dad, thinking about all those we were riding for, thinking how important was the cause.

In the beginning of the next section I sat right on Coach Beth's wheel, getting sucked along in her wake. As we continued on though, I found myself slipping back in the group. I'd speed up to catch onto somebody's wheel to block the wind, then I'd fade back again. I fell farther and farther back into our group with only the very slowest hill climbers behind me (which included Bree with her injured knee).

The second SAG stop was at mile 39, after a lengthy uphill section. I started feeling my energy flagging and realized that a lot of it was due to trying to keep up with the group. I decided to go my own pace from there. I was consuming my pop tarts and gu on a regular basis and drinking maybe not quite enough of my Ultima. The third SAG was at mile 60 after a bitch of an uphill. I think that was where I announced I was feeling craptastic. More riding, more ups and downs, more introspection, more chatting and silent time. I was on my own for long periods but always caught back up with the group at the next SAG. From about mile 65 on I started feeling sad and on the verge of tears. I wasn't hurting more than normal, wasn't tired more than normal, I was just worn out.

SAG 4 was at mile 73 and was the start of a long long long uphill section. I rode this alone and attempted to ignore anyone who tried to talk with me, including my coach and teammates. I didn't have the energy to chat, didn't have the inclination or the mood to be friendly. This section was very strange to me. I knew there was supposed to be this 15 mile or so uphill and from the map expected it to be horrible. But I felt as if I was just riding up a grade. Granted, we had a tailwind at that point. But I was able to comfortably, if slowly continue riding. Where's the hill? Where's the hill? Where's the hill? We had been told we'd stop and regroup before the hill and I kept waiting and waiting and getting more impatient and worried. I stopped momentarily a couple of times, once to pull off one arm warmer and once to eat a gel. I passed part of my group who were changing a tire and caught up to the rest of the group who had stopped just before the hill. The real hill.

That hill was a stinking bitch. A horrific steep climb with blind corners so you'd never know when it was going to end. Thinking that this was the long hill I tortured myself with visions that it was going to last for 10 miles and felt awful. I stopped twice on this particular hill to catch my breath, crested the top much sooner than I had anticipated and realized that this was the end of the big hill. At the top I considered stopping but decided to just zip up my jersey and jacket and continue along. I overheard some random guy tell his buddy not to worry, there were only 2 more climbs like that. Good thing for him he was faster than me; I would have ridden over and knocked him upside the head.

A steep downhill (and we know how much I like twisty downhills on rutted roads) and then the second stinking bitch of a hill. That one I had to stop 3 times to catch my breath, the effort seemed to be cumulative. At the SAG stop where I caught up with most of the team I assured them that the ride had sunk to new depths of suckitude which amused the heck out of some of them. After our last mission moment where I really thought I would lose it, we took off in smaller groups (or alone) and were told we'd meet up before the finish and all ride in together. I've actually blanked out whether that last SAG came after the first hill or the second, I was that zoned out. Or in the zone, whichever applied.

The road surface continued to be crap on the downhills, making any speed risky and highly uncomfortable. I attempted to put all my weight on my feet instead of my hands or my increasingly sore sit bones, but to do that I'd have to stop pedaling or braking.

And then came the "last" hill. Wide open road, up up and then up some more. While I was tempted, highly tempted to walk it, my stubbornness just let me make a couple of breathing stops. I finally got to the top and started crying. I was so thrilled that I had done the last hill, thrilled that I had gone more than 10 miles past the farthest I'd ever gone, saddened over so many personal issues and the tears poured down my cheeks. For only a few moments though. Just like when I run marathons I told myself to suck it up, shut up, take a breath and get on with it. I knew I didn't have the energy to completely melt down and had to refocus on the rest of the ride.

The rest of the ride had more rutted roads and a couple more hills. Hey, where'd they come from? Although the majority of it was downhill or downgrade, the roads until about mile 100 were awful. Then we arrived back in town and road conditions improved. I looked for the team and finally came around a corner and there they were, my group, with helmet boas flowing. Everyone was a little giddy while we awaited the arrival of our final members. I was too tired to be giddy and was just grumpily pleased that I was almost done.

The scenery on the ride varied from lovely green hills and valleys sprouting with wildflowers to ugly freeways to residential/commercial areas to vineyards. The Napafication of the area was frankly scary, knowing the habitat and landscape destruction of the Napa and Sonoma valleys. Sadly, a burgeoning wine industry is likely to cause hills to be topped, slopes to be denuded, waters to be fouled and the natural beauty of the area changed beyond recognition. Because most of the day was gray and overcast it wasn't quite as scenic as it could have been. Also, after several hours on a bike everything starts to look similar.

The weather, as I mentioned, was ok but not great. It started off cool and overcast with a wind and it ended cool and overcast with a wind. I believe it was low 50's the entire day with a steady 10 mph wind that gusted much higher. I didn't take off my glove liners until about 60 miles and never removed my ear covers. I also never removed my jacket and only unzipped on the sweaty uphills.

The purple feather boa decorations on our helmets turned out to be a genius idea. We were able to see our group members, know if someone was part of our group or not. Other riders frequently commented, mostly with teasing and humor. The boa didn't bounce or drag or blow in the wind and I really didn't even know it was there. It was funny when I rode behind the group to see purple feathers drifting along the road.

Our last stragglers arrived and we headed off in the same big group we had started in, ohsoverymany hours earlier. Of course, then we got split up at a couple of stop lights so we ended up not rolling in together after all. Whoops. In fact, the last few of us to arrive at the meeting place were among the first of the group to finish. Or should I say "finish" since we still had to ride back to the hotel.

still boa'd after all those miles and hours

There was an actual finish line and as we rode across we received our finishing goodie bag (which contained our patch, a mini-Clif bar and a pile of papers for other rides).


We walked over to the team tent and received our "100" pins and our medals. Yep, TnT realizes that we do these things for the bling and made up medals specially for us. Very nice, very appreciated. And as a special bonus I received my coveted Triple Crown pin showing that I'd completed (and fundraised for) TnT marathon, triathlon and century events. I thought that Triple Crown was just a title, didn't know I'd get an extra pin.

oooooh, shiny!

Then, although we wanted to wait for the rest of the team to arrive, a half dozen or so of us realized that we were so pooped we'd better head back to the hotel while we could. Good thing too. We had a horrible headwind in that direction and those 3 or so miles felt like 10 more. Finally, 11 hours after we started, 9 hours riding time and 103+ miles I was done.

I got back to my room, texted and tweeted and called all my friends and relatives and then took the longest hot shower I had taken since my drought water restrictions went into effect. I think I intended to drain the hotel's entire water supply but finally had to get out because I was too tired to stand any longer. I managed to dress and get myself on my feet and headed to the victory party.

Although I wasn't particularly hungry I realized I hadn't eaten enough during the day and hadn't had anything to drink after the ride except a glass of wine. None of the food looked too terribly appetizing except for the mashed potatoes but I forced myself to take some nutritious food too. And some wine since I was dehydrated. Some water too, for balance. During the ride I only drank about 4 bottles of Ultima, ate less than 6 pop tarts and slurped about 10 gels.

It was a fun party with food and drink and dancing and wonderful people. Verging on maudlin I thanked all the people who had specially helped me through the season. My mentor Amy was the best mentor I've had in all my seasons with TnT. Our head coach Cyd was always there. Always. I was astounded to see her week after week, even during her injured time off the bike. She was warm, friendly, informative and a great coach. Coach Susie and Captain Grace blew my mind by riding the entire century, despite their own injuries. Such tough, strong women. Lynn and Bob got my vote for best couple; Lynn for her fun attitude and Bob for his great SAG talents. Julie was always there with a smile and a friendly word, always helping someone along, waiting for us slowpokes despite being able to go ahead.

I don't even know what to say about Coach Beth and Coach Lorraine, the leaders of our little group. Very different in their approaches but so similar in execution. They both knew when to encourage me, when to talk with me, when to ignore me, when to get close and when to leave me along. They knew, without a doubt, that I would finish this ride. They had faith in my ability and determination and let me know that. They knew when I needed a hug, when I needed help dislodging my chain, when I entered deeply into the bite-me zone and needed the world to go away. During the century Beth pulled the front of the team along while Lorraine encouraged those of us trailing alone. I had more fun with the two of them, with this entire team, than I've had for so long.

My companion for the entire season was Bree. Until her knee acted up she was always just a bit ahead of me, always waiting, always there. Together we carpooled, we grilled cheesed, we beered and caked and gossiped about everyone else around us. We supported each other the entire season. This would have been a lonely training season without her training along with me. We rode together, drove together, laughed together and bitched together. Thank you Bree!

I'm very glad I did this even though my body has made it very clear that I never have to do it again. I'm not made for cycling over 5 hours, week after week. I'll continue with the bike since I've rediscovered how much I enjoy it. I think I'll enjoy it even more when I'm finally able to stop with the long pants, jacket and ear warmers.

I don't know what my next adventure will be. I guarantee it will be easier than this century!