Giving thanks

This past year has been a tough one for me, my family, and many of my friends. Two years ago, then again last year, I posted a list of things for which I'm thankful. Despite the year of hardships, I still give thanks for so many of the same things. The list is repeated, with some changes for 2009:

I am thankful for:

Mom, Mom sane and healthy, Mom knowing who and where she is
Sue (and of course Tracy)
Ron Carol Mac
My other family who I don't see often
My dear friend Ellen
My oldest friend Carol who came to visit me a couple of weeks ago
My running friends (and those who walk, too)
My knitting friends (even those who have put down the needles)
My running and knitting friends
My friends who used to run with me and have moved to other states but still stay in contact
My friends who don't knit or run with me
My health and physical capabilities (and modern pharmaceuticals to keep it that way)
My job
My home
My bears (of which there seem to be more every month year)
My yarn and needles
My abundant stuff
The gorgeous area where I live
The trails and open spaces where I can run in beautiful surroundings
Sunny warm days, cool nights
Candy, popcorn and wine for dinner
Waking after actually having been asleep
The ability to do almost anything I want, anywhere, at any time
The knowledge that I am whole, complete, and mostly content

I hope you have as many things that make you thankful, and that you have a happy, safe Thanksgiving!

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.

Nike Womens' Marathon Half 2009 Report

Another day, another race report ...

2009 charm in upper left

This is going to be easy because mostly I can say "see last year" or "see the year before" about -- well, just about the whole thing.

Anita and I both made it through the lottery this year and decided that even though we had just run the full Chicago Marathon, we'd run the Nike Half a week later. Maybe a little too enthusiastic but you have to remember that all this registration took place before last spring when life was a bit simpler all around. Our goal was to enjoy the scenery, walk the hills, laugh at the crowds, have a good time and get the necklace.

We decided to go to the Expotique on Thursday night, their so-called "ladies night" and get it out of the way. After waiting in line for about 15 minutes we got to enter the big tent in Union Square. Packet pickup went very smoothly, then we continued into the even more crowded main tent. They had the usual things inside like the Nike+ tie-in, shoe sampling, manicures and oxygen bar. Outside were samples of cereal, chocolate, Luna bars and the free food and drink. We had a glass of wine and some nibbles, wandered around a while and went across the street to see what clothes were for sale this year.

Last year I was able to buy a couple of tops because I was at my lowest weight since I'd started running 10 years ago. This year I wasn't quite so lucky. I lusted after the race-branded shirts and jackets since they were in my colors of black and red. Very nice. But very small. C'mon Nike! How many times do I have to rant about this? This particular race is directed toward newbie runners and walkers training with Team in Training. Many of the women doing the race are completely out of shape and very big and this will be their only race -- ever! They want to buy a shirt and a jacket and a sweatshirt and nuh uh. Nothing for them, they're too big to wear Nike clothes. Even one of the Nike saleswomen couldn't have fit into those tops (she kept apologizing to all the women trying on the tops and putting them back on the racks). I ended up buying another running cap to add to my (really big) collection - at least I got something in my colors!

Sunday morning I met Anita at the Rockridge BART station and we headed to the City. Sadly we're both completely hopeless with directions. Luckily we managed to find the parking lot. Very luckily since my stomach wasn't feeling very well and I didn't want to have to stop on the side of the road. Sorry, TMI. We got on the very warm comfortable bus and got to the start area well before the crowds arrived.

It was such a change from our previous Sunday morning; 30 degrees warmer! I don't normally find standing around in 60 degrees very warm but this time was ok. We had worn our matching tops that we hadn't been able to wear in Chicago and sleeveless was a little chilly for hanging out. I decided not to bother with a poncho since I'd just toss it as soon as we started running. I did keep my gloves and was glad I did.

We checked our gear, hit the porta potties a few times and found our corral. We lined up in the one that went to 11:59 since we didn't plan to walk in the first mile until it thinned out and that's about our normal running pace. We waited, waited, waited. While there we chatted with a group of women who were from Chicago and who had run a bunch of other races. We checked our watches and knew the race had started but were standing still 15 minutes later.

I think it took a good 20-25 minutes to finally cross the start and it was just like last year (well, like all the years I've done this race) with people seeding themselves improperly. Since we were in no hurry we tried not to do too much bobbing and weaving but it was impossible. We ended up darting and dashing for almost the whole race, even when we were ourselves walking.

It was apparent very quickly that I was tired and didn't have too much to offer. I tried to make our walk breaks regular but with the crowds that wasn't easy. Once the hills started I gave it up and we ran when I could and walked the rest. We ended up walking way more than I had hoped. I may say before a race that I don't care when I finish but in real life I do care. Once I get in a race I want to have a good performance. Hell, it's a race!

My worst moment was at about the 6 mile mark when the wide flat road thinned to go up the hill. People were packed in like sardines, in front, on both sides and behind us. I was watching the women next to me who were moving over and totally missed the foot tall barrier pole directly in front of me. I tripped on it, kicked myself in the leg (talented!), started to fly and only Anita's grip on my arm help me stay upright. Ow. OW! This was not my plan for the day, to bruise my leg and wrench my back before the hills even began.

We walked up the hill, along with almost every single other person there. What, does nobody run hills during that race? I feel very sorry for the 2 or 3 people trying to run around the plodding crowds. We were walking and still passing a majority of the other people.

The great views we're used to weren't there. The fog was in and the bay scenery was absent. Too bad for the people hoping for photo ops of the Golden Gate Bridge; all that was visible was one of the lower pilings. It also meant that the fog was coming in, not a problem while we were running but it got a bit chilly when we walked. It was, however, a great weather day for a race: not too cold, not too hot, not too windy, not too sunny.

Blah blah walk walk run run whine walk. See last year and the year before for descriptions of the water stations, crowd support, food and drink - it was the same again. We walked more and more as the race went on because I was exhausted. My breathing was as bad as it had been in Chicago so we just decided to take our time. I felt awful since it looked like Anita could run the whole thing very comfortably and I was holding her back. She insisted that she was happy to stay with me so I just shut up about it.

We did have fun crowd watching, looking at what we could see of the views, searching for bison in the park, walking, eating chocolate (they had plenty this year), chatting. We ran some but very little until the last mile when it flattened out again. As we turned the corner toward the finish I told Anita to take off for her patented sprint but she stayed with me and we crossed the finish together, smiling.

We got our little blue boxes from the tuxedo'd firemen, got our timing chip-thing removed, got a space blanket, a bottle of water, then our shirts. The necklace this year had a very fine short chain with a square charm. The front says "Run Like A Girl" and the back says "NWM SF 2009." The shirts were very similar to the shirts given out at Chicago the week before, the same cut and fabric, with one exception - they had XXL so even with Nike-sizing it was a decent fit. The color was another blue, this one more turquoise than Chicago's.

like usual, my camera doesn't reflect the real colors

Instead of the little blue Tiffany bag we'd gotten in the past, this year the major sponsor Safeway distributed a reusable shopping bag with their own and the race logos. It was very nice, held everything we needed it to hold. There was a different cereal sponsor this year but they still had the cups of yogurt/cereal/fruit. We grabbed that (and then threw it out because it didn't taste good) and headed to the bus to grab our checked stuff since it was getting cold.

The bag check and retrieval was very efficient again this year and we threw our warm duds back on then tried to find the bus line. It was long. Very long, winding back and forth and hither and yon and we started to freeze. An hour later (no, this is not an exaggeration) when we got to the bus my feet were numb, my fingers were numb, my lips purple and I was shivering. That was my excuse when we finally got back to the parking lot and were walking toward my car. We found the car, arrowed that way aaaaaand ... I tripped on the only freaking rock in the entire parking lot. Once again I managed to not fall but I twisted my back again. I shouldn't be let out.

Late review: Chicago Marathon 2009

Yes, I do {heart} Chicago!

If a blogger runs a race and doesn't write about it, does that mean she didn't run?

Way back in February I had grandiose plans for the Chicago Marathon. A large group of us registered for the race the day it opened (hurry! it might sell out! do it now!). We made our hotel reservations, dinner reservations (yes, in February) and then flight reservations once they became available. Although I hadn't yet started running because I was too tired from century training, I knew that come October I'd be in tip-top shape, running fast and easy. I didn't know if I could PR but I planned on being close.

Then, as usually happens with good intentions, life intruded. My training was hit and miss. I had scheduled many runs in the 13-16 mile range so that distance would be comfortable; that was the only thing that made running a marathon possible. My during-the-week training was a joke and there were weeks when I only ran our long weekend run. In addition to all the family drama I faced blazing heat, smog and smoke and then a thunderstorm. I tried, and for the most part succeeded, to show up for each weekend run. They were my outlet and my therapy and without Bree and Anita I would have been lost. We laughed, cried and counseled each other and made the miles fly by.

Our 18 miler was a tough run because of the heat, mid-90s when we finished. The 20 miler was the best run of the year, despite the thunder and lightning and rain. My little mishap during the scheduled 22 miler turned the run into a limping 19 miler. I knew by that point I wasn't going to have the greatest marathon ever but I was certain that if I stuck with the plan I'd finish well with mostly even splits.

In 2007 it was so hot during the race that the Chicago Marathon shut down mid-way and pulled runners, those who hadn't collapsed, from the course. It was another hot race in 2008. We had prepared to run in shorts and tanks and weren't prepared for the blast of arctic cold that descended on Chicago this year. I packed for the cold, bringing tights, a long sleeved shirt, gloves, jacket and extra buffs. It wasn't enough so at the expo I also bought one of the cheap throwaway tyvek jackets and an ear warmer that I also wouldn't mind throwing at the side of the road. I ended up wearing running tights, the long sleeved tech shirt, the throwaway jacket, throwaway gloves, throwaway ear warmers, a buff around my neck and another around my wrist. I knew I'd be warm through my core but was afraid of my extremities.

We were frozen waiting at the start. After my last huge run, New York in 2007, I was afraid of what the start would be like. I'm not great in big crowds, getting a little claustrophobic. But this actually went pretty well. I thought there were enough portapotties and the lines moved quickly enough. The gear check seemed to be very organized and quite easy to get to. The corrals were a little harder to deal with, especially close to starting time when every single person decided they'd be the last person to enter. It was hard for people to squeeze into the faster areas and it wasn't very clear where all the pacers were. But we spotted ourselves just behind the 5:30 pacer and waited to start. It was freezing; my teeth chattered and my fingers were numb.

I stood in line with Bree, Anita and Sandy. We didn't see any of the others, they had left the hotel later than we had and in that crowd it would have been amazing to find anyone. My plan was to start out steady, running about a 12:15 pace. I planned to continue with the 4:1 run:walk since we had trained that way, but to not start walking until 14 minutes so that we wouldn't get run over by the crowd. I thought that running the entire first mile might thin things out a bit. Ha.

It finally turned 7:30 am and the gun went off. I think (we were too far back to be sure). It took us about 25 minutes to creep up to the start line. We crossed, started running, and never saw Anita and Sandy again until the race was over. They never looked over their shoulders to see how far back we were and we absolutely weren't going to try to catch up.

It was very crowded and hard to run at any set pace. It was slow down, side step, stagger, run, speed up, speed faster, halt, side step, repeat. Like usual people hadn't seeded themselves in the right place. Hell, we were passing people right and left and we weren't going as fast as our placement would have put us. For several miles we dashed and darted and probably wasted more energy going sideways than we did going forward. We kept up the 4:1 and were going strong through mile 11 or so.

It was amusing (and not a little annoying) that at one point we were being squeezed in by 2 very large pace groups; the 5:30 on one side and the 5:45 on the other. We had seen that both groups crossed the start at very much the same time, so either one was going too fast or the other too slow or maybe a bit of both. But one group was doing a 2:1 run:walk and kept passing us then slamming on the brakes right in front of us. We tried to drop them a few times and finally got away from them. I don't even know if they were ahead or behind, just no longer near us.

With this big of a crowd you expect some pain-in-the-ass people and this race didn't disappoint. My pet peeves during races (or even just on a trail) are runners not paying attention to their surroundings, people not glancing around before darting in front, people pushing and people who take walk breaks coming to almost a halt without moving to the side. With all those and more it was surprising that I wasn't cranky or crabby or mean. I rolled my eyes several times at idiots and muttered obscenities to Bree a few times, but mostly I just went with the flow. I didn't want to waste energy on jerks.

We started slowing down when we were getting close to the half marathon distance and I told Bree that maybe after mile 14 we should switch to a 3:2. She happily agreed and we continued on. Despite that, our paces were too different and before mile 15 I went ahead. I went back to 4:1 and continued with it until, I think, about mile 20. At that point the freezing air in my lungs really started to get to me. I know my form was off from the cold and that tired me also.

Yes, late morning and it was still only in the mid-30s outside. There was a steady breeze making the wind chill factor even colder. Once in a while the sun would pop out but mostly it was overcast. Cold and gray. Brrrr. I had shed my jacket at about mile 10 and threw it away at about mile 15. I alternated with gloves and bare fingers, sometimes one hand covered and one not. I didn't throw the gloves away and wore them continually for most of the last hour I was out there. I never removed my ear warmers and didn't feel that I needed to. The only problem was when I tried to wear sunglasses; my hot breath and the cold air fogged them right up.

Although I had slowed waaaaay down, at about mile 20 I figured that if I kept vaguely on pace I could finish under 6 hours. It became a goal to me to try to keep my time under 15 minute miles and that mean very little walking, except the regular breaks. I was sucking air so badly that I finally stopped regular breaks and just ran until I was gasping and walked until I my breath calmed. I came down with a lovely case of marathon brain and amused myself trying to figure out math and times and speeds. After every walk I'd re-calculate my time and for some reason at mile 24 I still thought I'd break 6. Then I realized that I must have hit the split button on my watch at a wrong time and that I'd have to run mile 26 in 9:30. Heh. Not likely. Then I realized that I had also forgotten to calculate in the .2 mile at the end. Crap. Then I saw that huge mountain leading up to the 26 mile marker and decided that walking was fine until the top (ok, it was a little hill, but it looked like Mt. Diablo to me).

I made it to the top, not even bothering to smile at the photographers like I usually do, and decided to "power" in the last .2 stretch. Despite "sprinting" there were many people who passed me there. I ran as hard as I could, gasping and wheezing, and crossed the finish line at about 6:04. Better than the 6:15 I had expected before starting but not as good as the 5:59 I had hoped for. Nevertheless, as my first marathon in almost 2 years, it was an emotional finish.

I got my mylar blanket and my medal, had my chip removed, and staggered forward. I got a bottle of water, a dry bagel (yuck), a banana and there might have been some chips offered. I was supposed to meet the girls at the beer tent and imagine my surprise when the "tent" was a table set up right after the food, before the baggage tent. Sandy and Anita were waiting for me and one of the beer fellows urged me to take a beer and rehydrate. Being the compliant type I did just that. I steadied my breathing, tried to stretch and almost fell over. Instead, I took my beer over to the nearest curb and plopped myself down while we waited for Bree to cross the line.

During the race there were aid stations at about 1 mile apart; a couple of places it was longer but they were frequent and well supplied. There was water and some electrolyte drink (maybe Gatorade?) at every station. Most of them had a couple of portapotties and a first aid tent also. The volunteers were, in a word, incredible. There were tons of them in that freezing air, friendly and encouraging and helpful. Lots of races have lots of volunteers but these were the nicest ones I'd ever seen. Gu was distributed at one later station and people along the course offered various fruits and candies and waters. And beer, don't forget that (yes, I did have a couple of sips of that, thank you very much). Even late in the race there were plenty of spectators cheering and supporting the runners (and walkers).

Retrieving our bags went smoothly but remember, we were among the last several thousand of people to get there. It's possible that people finishing in the 3-5 hour range would have had more trouble. Even there the volunteers were friendly and helpful.

After the race I was tired and a bit sore, but elated that I had finished. I was stiff and didn't know if that was because I was still so cold. My lungs hurt more than anything else but I had expected that. My knees felt fine and my back felt fine; I had been worried that the injuries last year would complicate matters but luckily, no. Nothing recently has felt as good as my 20 minutes under a hot shower after the race. It would have been even longer but I needed to collapse on the bed and eat something.

To finish this up backward, the expo was incredible. We took the shuttle bus Friday afternoon and it took forever to get there, damn Chicago rush hour holiday weekend getaway traffic! Due to that we had about 40 minutes to get our stuff and go line up for the return shuttle. We decided we'd have to go back on Saturday and spend time then. It was very quick to get our numbers but then we had to hike through the entire expo to get our shirts, located at the back. I wasn't excited by the shirt. It was a lovely blue tech short sleeve top, but Nike-sized. I think I've stated my preference here for looser tops. And my utter hatred for tight, form-fitting woman-specific race shirts that Nike keeps producing. Yo Nike: not every runner is built like a "runner" and not every runner who is built like a runner likes tight clingy clothes. Sheesh. At least offer a XXL for those of us who like loose shirts.

The cap-sleeved girly shirt, with goody bag contents

Anyhoo, we stopped and bought the throw-away jackets because I've seen that company run out in the past. We also stopped at the area with the marathon-branded clothes and other stuff since I've seen those run out in the past too. I got a nice running hat to add to my collection and a long sleeved top and we left.

Saturday we returned early and since it was so empty we realized how utterly huge the expo was. I'm not certain but I think it had more space and more vendors than the New York expo. Anything running-related and lots of things not running-related could be purchased there. Despite my very good intentions I ended up spending some money. My favorite purchase is perversely something I hope I never have any use for: a knee-specific ice pack from Moji. It not only ices, it compresses. Unlike my dependable frozen corn, you can move around while using it. I tried it on and it felt wonderful, even though my knee wasn't hurting. I wish I had had it when I tumbled during our Alameda run. In fact, I wish I had had one for each knee. I bought a second liner so that I could switch off while one freezes. Again, I hope I wasted money on it and that I never need it.

We all did our part in supporting the vendors at the expo. In addition, I was amazed at how much loot we got for free. The official goody bag didn't have much, but we got tons of other stuff. Considering there were about 35,000 runners and many of them had family and friends attending the expo, there was a lot of swag given out. Below is my haul and remember, I didn't take lots of things I knew I wouldn't use.

freebies, including my favorite yogurt

more freebies

the rest of the swag

Will I run this marathon again? Probably not. If I didn't want to run so many many other fall marathons I would definitely consider a re-run. The race was very well produced, the course interesting, the route fast and easy (comparably), the volunteers fabulous and Chicago is a great city.

Will I run any other marathon? Oh HELL yeah! Despite the cold, despite my lungs, despite my pitiful training regimen, despite the exhaustion, I love running marathons. I would like to improve my condition so that the end isn't so tough and I want to return to the old 9:1 interval, but I want to keep racing. Planning is tough right now; I know I could, at any time, have to rush out and take care of my mom since she's my priority. My spring goal race is Vermont (yes, because of the bears!) but I'd like to run 1 or 2 in-between. I'll let you know as soon as I know!

... 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.

Are we there yet?

Tick tick tick tick. I'm ready to go, set to run, eager to get the hellouttahere. Counting down the days to leaving: 4. Counting down the days to the marathon: 6. Counting down the days to driving myself insane: -2.

We had a great taper run on Saturday. Bree, Anita and I met in the cool autumn air at the Lafayette-Moraga Trail for a planned 6 miler. I was afraid to do more than that because I'm still feeling the effects of the fall and didn't want to risk hurting myself more. It went quite well, despite a twinge (ok, a pain) or two in my knees. We walked a little and I determined that running hurt less, so we went back to our run:walk. As usual on the L-M Trail we did negative splits - gotta love that downgrade return trip.

We've been (obsessively) checking the weather forecast for the race and we really should just stop looking until Thursday, it's been changing that much. One thing is almost certain, or as certain as weather forecasting ever gets: it will be much cooler there this year than it has the previous two. In fact, we might not be able to wear our matching sleeveless tops. The current forecast (there I go, looking anyway) shows it might not even get out of the 40s. Perfect running weather but not for a tank top. If the rain prediction gets higher than 50% again we might even have to wear long sleeves. Rain hurts!

I've been doing my visualization that I always do before a race but I've added a little something. I hope that picturing myself not toppling over will help me stay on my feet. Falling in front of 40,000 other runners would be much more embarrassing that falling in front of two friends and a couple of fishermen. But the majority of my visualization has me comfortably running miles 20-26.2, speeding across the finish line, feeling great.

And heading straight for the beer tent.

LIVESTRONG Day - Spread the Word

An Open Email from Lance Armstrong:

I had a pre-existing condition Today is LIVESTRONG Day. Thirteen years ago today, my doctor told me I had advanced testicular cancer. What most people don’t know is that at the time, I didn’t have health insurance. In the following weeks, I received letter after letter from the insurance company refusing to pay for my treatment. I was fighting for my life—but also for the coverage that I desperately needed. The legislation currently being debated in Congress is not just words on a page—for many cancer survivors, it’s a matter of life and death. Now, as this debate enters crunch time, I need your help to ensure that what happened to me doesn't happen to any other American: http://www.livestrongaction.org/campaigns/healthcare No matter what side of the healthcare debate you're on, I believe we can all agree on two things: No American should be denied health insurance coverage because of pre-existing conditions. No American should lose their insurance due to changes in health or employment. Will you sign the LIVESTRONG Action petition to make sure any legislation includes these two critically important reforms? We’ll deliver these to Capitol Hill this month as the debate reaches its climax and make sure our voices are heard in the debate: http://www.livestrongaction.org/campaigns/healthcare When I received my diagnosis, I was between cycling contracts. My new insurer used the diagnosis as a reason to deny coverage after the new contract was signed. Fortunately, one of my sponsors intervened. At their insistence, I was added to their insurance company and was able to continue my life-saving treatment. If my sponsor, a powerful company, had not gone to bat for me, I may not have made it. I was lucky. We can't rely on luck to ensure coverage and treatment for the millions of Americans affected by cancer. Some cannot get coverage because they've already been diagnosed. Others get calls from their insurance companies saying they have been dropped. It happens all the time—and it's unacceptable. Every year on LIVESTRONG Day, we come together to take action for a world without cancer. In the U.S., a critical step is to make sure cancer survivors can get and keep their health insurance. It has been 13 years since my diagnosis, but in some ways, not much has changed. No person should have to worry about health insurance while battling cancer. That so many do is an outrage, and we must speak out. Please sign the petition and forward it along to your friends and family: http://www.livestrongaction.org/campaigns/healthcare LIVESTRONG, Lance and the LIVESTRONG Action Team P.S. Don’t forget today is LIVESTRONG Day. There are more than 1,100 events taking place to raise awareness about cancer all over the world. View our interactive map to see events in your area: http://www.livestrongaction.org/map

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.

Have a nice trip; see you in the fall

I had very high hopes for our last long training run before Chicago Marathon. Although our 18 miler was hard because of adverse weather conditions, our 20 miler went great despite the lightning and thunder and rain. Our short 11 miler last week went well. Everything looked promising for our 22 miler on Saturday. My prep went well and I was excited to get to the run.

It started out well. I met Anita and Bree at the Alameda Ferry Terminal parking lot at just after 6:00 am. It would have been just before 6:00 am had I known that Highway 238 was going to be closed. It didn't delay me too much and we got on the road by 6:10. It was dark and since my headlamp had fallen apart the night before I carried a disposable flashlight.

The plan was to run the long way around to the bridge, across then out to Crown Beach, then back to the parking lot the short way for 12-ish total miles. We'd refuel and do one more out-and-back to the beach for the last 10 miles. Done that way we couldn't take shortcuts. There are enough water fountains and bathrooms along the way that even on a hot day we'd be able to hydrate. The weather forecast was back and forth all week; first they said hot, then not, then hot again. Maybe windy but that was expected. Overcast/not overcast. We weren't worried, we'd trained with all of that.

The first part of the run to the bridge went very well. It slowly got lighter out, and warmer. We got to see the beautiful sunrise, made even prettier by the smoggy skies. I felt good until about mile 7 when I started tiring. I ignored it, knowing we had a long way yet to go. My legs were heavy and flat and my breathing started to get sloppy; I didn't know which was causing the other problem. I didn't want to change our 4:1 run:walk until at least after 13 miles so I pushed on, whining just a bit.

We crossed the big bridge and started running across that little wooden bridge that goes under the road. We normally walk that but for some reason didn't. About halfway across I caught my toe on an uneven board and tripped. I tried to catch myself but couldn't. I went down, hard, catching most of my weight on my hands and knees. Ow. I was a bit stunned and instead of popping back up like I normally do (and doesn't it suck that there's a "normally" for my falling) I just stayed there.

Like the wonderful concerned friends they are, Bree and Anita asked if I was ok, if they could help me up, told me to take my time, etc. Like a total cranky bitch I told them to go away. Leave me alone. Go on. I might have yelled a little. They walked off and I peeled myself off the bridge. I knew that I was scraped and bruised and dirty and sore but I didn't want to look. I was wobbly and jittery and very stiff and sore but after I hobbled off the bridge I decided to suck it up and keep running. I told them to go ahead of me, insisted on it, and followed behind them. There were a few tears of pain and self-pity, but I kept running.

Adrenaline kept me going for a short time. I loosened up, started running a bit better. But within that same damn mile I tripped again! I caught my toe on the uneven pavement and literally went flying. I kept my feet moving, tightened my core and somehow managed to remain upright and in motion. After that I just stopped. Stopped dead and told them I was finished. I was done, I quit, no more, the end. I send them off ahead of me and forlornly (and slowly) walked on. A few more tears and a major pity party with myself being the only invited guest. There were close to 2 miles left until I got to my car.

Sure enough I got tired of walking after a while. Cautiously I started a slow jog, intermingled with regular walk breaks. I stayed behind Bree and Anita, not wanting any company. I got back to the parking lot fully intending to quit. I went into the bathroom and washed some of the blood off my knee and some of the dirt off my hands and went to my car.

At that point we had done about 13 miles. I really didn't want to leave it that way but I had very little energy or patience left. Bree suggested doing outs and backs to the bridge a couple of times and again, I didn't want to go and didn't want to socialize any longer. I crabbily told them to set out and I'd follow as much as I could.

Do you have any idea how boring it is to run while not being able to look up from your feet? I was convinced that if I didn't stare at the ground that I'd trip again. I was probably correct in that assumption but I didn't test it. We made it back to the bridges and walked across that time. We refilled our bottles on the far side and turned around to return. We walked the bridge that time too.

I varied but mostly stayed behind them. I went in front when our shadows turned because I couldn't see the ground as well with them in front. We went slower and slower and walked more and more and once again returned to the our cars.

We decided to do one more short out and back to get a couple additional miles. This time there was no pretense of running, we were hardly walking. Strolling, more like. Still, it was hard. My little wounds stung with the breeze, I had blood oozing down my leg, I was bruised and still not breathing well. It was fully sunny, a light breeze and getting warmer by the minute. It was upper 70s by that time.

Finally back to the cars with a total of 19.2 miles. Not too bad for crashing at 10.5 and quitting before 11. All that time on our feet had taken its toll.I was not a happy camper and would have been uncomfortable even if I hadn't taken a tumble. Thank you to both Bree and Anita for putting up with my whining, my falling, my crankiness, my crabbiness, my anger and my self-pity. You guys are great!

Obligatory notice of beauty: it was a clear day, beautiful views of San Francisco, the Bay Bridge, Oakland, the Bay, the Estuary. Beautiful. The birds were out in full force, pelicans fanning their wings in the sun, little whatdoyoucallits splashing around. It's a lovely place to run and we are incredibly fortunate to have places like that so close.

When I got home I decided I'd better take an ice bath. Although I used to take them regularly after long runs, I stopped doing it for some reason (probably because they're damned uncomfortable). But I had too many swollen spots to ice individually so I decided to plop into freezing water. I had ground-in dirt on one knee and palm, dirt all over my arms and legs, swollen knees and palms and a pull in my lower back from catching myself that last time. I'm sure the 20 minutes in the icy water was good for me but I didn't enjoy one minute of it.

A day later and the damage isn't too bad. I don't feel at all like I went 19 miles. My feet don't hurt (and they can hurt after just a few miles). None of the usual aches and pains from a longer run. Both of my palms are bruised (and I must have caught myself on the edge of one of the boards because I have a distinct line). My left knee is bruised and swollen but internally feels ok. My right knee is a mess. It's scratched, scraped, bruised, oozing and bloody. But again that's all on the outside and structurally it's fine. The only non-surface part that really hurts, strangely enough, is my shoulder. I apparently strained a muscle when I fell and caught myself.

The marathon is in 2 weeks. I intend to be fully healed by then. I also intend to stay upright for the entire 26.2 miles. What are the odds?

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.

Running and enjoying it again

Last year I didn't know if I'd ever be able to run again, let alone run any distances. First the knee injury, then the back injury, then the depression and the ulcer and the rampant insomnia and it hurt to run. I didn't have a single good run over ten miles all year and I canceled the only scheduled marathon I had planned. This year was going to be different.

But it didn't start that way. At the turn of the year I was training for a century and had no time, let alone energy, to run. I thought I could ride and run distances at the same time and was sadly wrong. After I rode my 100 miles I decided it was time to get serious and see if I was still a marathoner.

When I set our training schedule I planned many mid-teen distance runs. I wanted it so that running 14 miles was our standard run. I wanted our 18, 20 and 22 milers to feel good. I had planned to run 3 times during the week but hahahaha. Due to circumstances beyond my control I was unable to get in much more than the long runs on the weekends. But it seems that the training I did, worked.

Our 18 mile run didn't go well but that was because it was a gazillion degrees outside. We had other bad runs due to the weather or the air quality but if it was nice out we ran well. Saturday morning didn't start well. I left home with lightning flashing, lighting up the pre-dawn sky in blinding white. There were only a couple drops of rain but I was scared of getting electrocuted if we ran in it. We lucked out and got near perfect conditions.

Our first few miles, in the dark, were highlighted by lovely flashes. When the sun started to rise we saw gorgeous colors from the clouds. As we got toward the bird sanctuary we paused to watch the morning take-off flights of a squadron of pelicans, a skein of geese, and a congregation of egrets. The ducks continued paddling around the lake, glad to have the space to themselves.

Throughout our run we had some rain, some wind, some sun, some thunder, some lightning. The temperature remained in the mid-60s, the humidity high, but it was such a relief after the horrendous heat of our last long run that it didn't matter. We refilled our bottles at each fountain and took way too many gels. We managed our 4:1 run:walk for 16 miles, then switched to 3:2 for the remaining 4 miles. We finished strong and although tired, we felt good. Better than after the hot run, better than after the smoggy and smoky runs. We enjoyed ourselves! It was incredible.

I'm glad we have one more long run before the marathon and hope it goes as well as this one. A day after the run I have only one sore toenail; my legs feel as if I only ran a couple of miles. I still feel weary but heck, I always feel weary these days. I'm still not counting those chickens before they hatch -- er, the marathons before they're run -- but I think I can safely say that once again I'm a runner. Yay!

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.

Happy National Teddy Bear Day!

I had no idea that there was a special day celebrating teddy bears. It's not an official government holiday (... yet!) but since I've seen it in a couple of places, I'll join in spreading the word. Go hug a bear. If you don't have your own I'll let you hug one of mine!

Sitting at home watching the trees grow

This would more properly be entitled "Sitting at home watching the plumbing rot." Finally the drips went a-gusher and I had to call in the professionals. The quite expensive professionals. The quite take-all-day professionals.

The immediate problem was a leak at the pressure reducing valve outside my house. It was acting like a drink-all-you-can water fountain for my apparent pet gopher and that was just too much leakage on the foundation for me to allow. Since I've had a couple of drippy faucets and a won't shut-off toilet for several months (shhh, don't tell EBMUD) I figured I'd get those fixed too.

Turns out that the stems in the sink are rotted away into a sludge of metal and plastic. I was worried that might be the case since I'd been unable to clean up the rust around the handles since I moved in here (11 years ago). So I need a new faucet and of course it has to match the existing brass fixtures. Cha-ching! Also it turns out that my very high-flow old toilet would cost almost as much to repair as replace, so I'm getting a new low-flow toilet. Cha-ching! The only good news is that the valve in the shower is easily replaceable and I don't need to have a hole knocked in my living room wall. Uh, yay?

Since I needed to be at home for the plumber I decided it was a good idea to get another estimate from an arborist for trimming my two trees. In my front yard I have a very large Sycamore that's lopsided, growing onto my roof and filled with dead wood. In my back yard I have a very large Maple that's lopsided and growing onto my roof. Both are providing a lovely vermin highway to the top of my house (and thanks for pointing that out Mr. Arborist!) so they need to be cut back. The last estimate I got a couple of years ago was almost $1500 to prune both trees (seriously) and that's why I didn't hire those people and why the trees are so badly overgrown now. This time I was told it would be about half that. I don't know why I'm excited about spending $7-800, but I guess it beats (1) roof rats and (2) $1500.

All that and my water has been turned off for the past 5 hours. I gotta go!

Places to go, things to do

My plate was full this weekend. So full that I managed to accomplish only a teensy portion of the things that needed to be done. There was so much I wanted to do that I felt like I was spinning in circles standing still. Whatever that means.

I left work early on Friday to have some scheduled maintenance performed on my car. It was the only chance I'd get for about the next 1000 miles and I was overdue. The best part was that I got to sit in their waiting room with my headphones on, music playing, while I knit for over an hour. I miss knitting and at this rate I'll never finish the 3 4 several WIPs. For some reason, probably because it was over 100 degrees out, they didn't wash my car (one of the nice things that Saturn has always done). Or maybe it was because Saturn is bankrupt and the car industry is in the toilet and the dealership couldn't afford their water bill. Whatever the reason, I drove out of there disgruntled and with a filthy car.

Saturday was scheduled for a 18 mile run and although it was going to be hot as blazes we went ahead and did it. We started our run at 6:00 am, just as the sun was rising, and it was already about 70 degrees. No wind, not even a little breeze. I saw on the weather channel that the wind was calm at calm miles per hour in the direction of calm. I don't like wind in my face so I had high hopes.

Until I started running. There are days when my legs feel flat, like I'm dragging cement posts along instead of flesh, bone and muscle. Sometimes that's only until I warm up and after a couple of miles I feel better. Not this time. The entire distance was hard and the heat didn't help.

We were running on the Alameda Creek Trail in Fremont and headed first toward the Bay. Mostly we stuck with the plan of a 4:1 run:walk and we ran about 7 miles round-trip. I say "about" since, in the dark, I hit the wrong button on Mr. Garmin and it didn't start until I noticed about a mile later. Whoops. We switched out our bottles and headed in the other direction. Since there are a couple of fountains we figured we could refill along the way and back.

It got hotter and hotter and we got slower and slower. We kept to the 4:1-ish plan until we reached the end at 5 miles, but both the run and the walk were slower. We refilled, soaked our hats in cool water and headed back the other direction. It got hotter and we got even slower and walked more.

The 4:1 became 3:2 became 2:3. The sun was blazing, there was still no breeze and it was getting hotter. We amused ourselves by looking at the huge fish in the creek, by wishing we could stick our feet in the water like the egrets were doing, by watching other hot runners and walkers and cyclists. We detoured across the creek to refill our bottles at Isherwood and from there ended up walking. We had a good pace going, mostly because of forward motion, but it was still walking.

I was hot, tired and dizzy but there was no choice except to continue forward. We made it back to the parking lot with our mileage a little short and Anita made me continue on for the last quarter mile so we'd have the full 18. Ow. Dehydrated, overheated, exhausted. But 18 miles! No matter how we got there, it was still 18 miles, slow as molasses but still fast enough to make the time cutoff at Chicago.

I zoomed home, showered and managed to lie down for about a half hour before having to leave for a party. Each year my boss has a pool party for all the employees and this year we were happy for the pool. I would have been even happier if I had bothered to look for my swimsuit before I left. As it was, I sat on the edge of the pool and soaked my legs in cool water.

Several hours later I headed over to my mom's house to check her mail, cool it down for a while, then finally left for home. As I walked to my front door I noticed that the pipe that has my hose spigot and shutoff valve was dripping. Crap. It was dripping enough that I knew I'd have to do something.

After a mostly sleepless night (what else is new) I started cleaning my house, setting up the exercise room as a guest room, paying bills, backing up my computer and oh yeah, called a plumber. I was told he'd be there between 1 and 2, and he called at about 12:45 and said he'd be there just about 2pm. I did a little bit of everything around home, finishing nothing, and waited.

Plumberman showed up about 2:15. He was a chatty fellow and he slowly inspected the 4 dripping problems I have (the new leak was just the camel's straw). He very carefully and clearly explained what should be done and why, explained lesser alternatives, talked a LOT and after more than 2 hours gave me an eye popping estimate. Yep, didn't get anything done, just got an estimate. Ouch. I'm not pleased to pay that much (and it's going to involve getting a new toilet) (no, the leak in my garden didn't cause that) but I've put this off for so long I'll have to just suck it up. I'll have to make an appointment for the work to be done this week, but meanwhile the dripping will continue.

After he left I ran my errands and when I got home I realized I hadn't done the laundry, hadn't finished cleaning the house, hadn't visited my mom and hadn't finished setting up the guest room. I also hadn't eaten anything and I was tired, hungry and getting very cranky. So I ate a salad and decided nothing else was going to get done this weekend.

Tomorrow's another day.

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.