Almost next year

I just realized my poor blog is in serious need of updating, but that's not happening right now. This is just catching up. I realized I never posted since I had my foot sliced.

When I went to have the stitches removed the doc told me it turns out that I didn't have a ganglion cyst; I didn't have a cyst at all. I had what the lab called "fibromatosis." Which led to my delight in saying I had fibromatosis on my toesis. It's the little things in life. Anyway, a fibroma is a little benign tumor. Although they are common on feet, they're common on the bottom of the foot, not the top. Usually they're in/on the plantar fascia, not the big toe tendon. My doc told me the chances for it reoccurring are low. Ish.

Since the incision wasn't totally healed he told me I could run when there was no stinging when I swiped the wound with an alcohol wipe. And no cheating or toughing it out, stinging is stinging. As of today, 4 days later than expected, there was no stinging. So I'm good to start running again, yay!

My toeitis on the other foot isn't gone, but it never hurt horribly until I was at about 8 miles so I won't know for a while how healed it is.

I'll have 2 whole weeks to run and then will need to take another short interruption. I had a couple of moles sliced off the same day as the foot surgery (along with freezing a shitload of other moles and freckle-type-things, ouchy). One mole had benign atypical cells, so more has to be removed. It's located high on my thigh, right over the hip flexor. That's going to be a tough one to work around because it's one of the hardest workers in my body.

But when that's healed, I'm back to running. No matter what. I can feel my mood souring from lack of endurance endorphins and lack of sun. Since I can't control the weather I need to get back on the trails, or at least the treadmill.

Have you been running? Can you control the weather? Do you have any good toe jokes?

Random Tuesday

Bits and pieces of this and that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's all I've got for now.

Thrice

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

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

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

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

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

Is it spring yet?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Running with No Reservations

Yesterday I was supposed to run a half marathon but I didn't. In lieu of that I should have gone off and run 13 miles on my own but I didn't. Last week I was scheduled to run on Monday and/or Tuesday, and Wednesday and/or Thursday. I didn't do that either. I hadn't run since our stumbling almost 14 miler 9 days ago. I hadn't done any cross training for a week either. Add to that a complete lack of sleep and poor nutrition and more stress than I've ever experienced and it all added up to one sad puppy.

Every day last week I'd say I would get up early and run. When that didn't happen I said I'd run after work. Neither morning nor evening runs occurred. Only guilt and my lack of activity and training was present.

Today I again set my alarm to get up early to run and again I didn't do it. When I got home from work I was tired and beaten so I took a nap. After a short time I was jumpy and twitchy and decided it was run time. Since it was about 90 degrees with icky air quality outside when I got home I decided that the treadmill would do in a pinch. I changed, grabbed some cold water, turned the fan onto high speed and plugged in the 'mill.

What to watch, what to watch. I hadn't been paying attention to what I had set to record so I flipped through different programs and settled on an old episode of No Reservations. I started running as Tony Bourdain made his way through Las Vegas; eating, drinking, smoking and whining, crabbing and talking a mile a minute (gotta love that Tony!) (and while most of the food looked very tasty, the fried Twinkie was very gross). I realized that I was still having some breathing problems but kept the speed at 12 minute miles. After 2 miles I was wheezing so much that I slowed down and walked a half mile. Although I was still huffing and puffing I ran another 1.5 miles, then cooled down with a slow walk.

Know what? I really missed running! I should really try to make a habit of it.

Rambling Friday

Earlier this week my bro called me and asked if I could look after my nephew for a few hours on Thursday night. I was a bit stunned, since this was the FIRST TIME in 11 years that I was offered this chance. Yes, I've taken the boy shopping for presents but that was it. This time, I was asked to spend a few hours with him and take him to dinner. Wow. I actually had to stop and think about it, which made my bro think I didn't want to do it. I couldn't really tell him I was amazed he was finally giving me this opportunity.

Included would also be, of course, shopping. I'd never gotten nephew a Hanukkah present and had put off our shopping trip for various and assorted reasons. Last night we went to a few stores and I was happy to that although he still tries to get (1) a very expensive total of presents and (2) items I know his parents would find inappropriate, he knows the real limits and will put things back on the shelf if I give him a "look." We had lots of fun deciding what to get (some -- popular tv anime -- toy thingamabobs) and what not to get (Barbie, Elmo, anything girly or too young for him).

We went out for sushi for dinner, although he doesn't like the fishy things as much as the tofu or egg types. It was lots of fun, goofing around, being Auntie. He's a good kid (if just a bit spoiled ...), bright, funny, active. He wore me out!

I don't want to obsess about the weather, but what the hell is up with this weather?? From cold and rainy, to hot and hot and hotter, to cold and windy and rainy. Boots and jackets to shorts and tanks and sandals to boots and sweaters. Spring? Winter? Fall? Summer? Hey, that's why we live in California; there aren't seasons here. In fact, we normally don't even have anything you could call "weather," except in the dead of winter when it gets cold and might - let me emphasize might - rain. Cut it out, Mother Nature. We are not amused.

I'm having food issues these days. I do great until I get home, then good eating habits go out the door. I tend to leave it so late that I'm too hungry to prepare anything decent (even those 7 minutes in the microwave seem too long) and end up eating yogurt, ice cream and popcorn. With Jelly Belly jelly beans for dessert. I rationalize it that I've had a big salad for lunch (which I normally do) with a serving of protein (usually) and so it doesn't matter. Of course it does, and I know it does, and I know I'd feel better eating right, but I'm just not quite there. Since my jeans are not as comfortable as they've been I'll have to turn this around quickly.

My exercise was impacted this week both by the weather and my own uncoordination. I missed Tuesday's run because I was chasing down a tetanus shot (needed since I stabbed myself in the leg with a screwdriver while gardening) (and may I add, OW!) (both to the stabbing and the shot). Wednesday was too hot to run but at least I got in a brisk walk. Thursday I had intended to run on the treadmill in the morning but the blisters from the hot walk made it hard to stand, let alone run. Ditto that again for this morning. One step forward, two hops back. I will run this weekend, blisters notwithstanding. I might first wrap myself in bubblewrap and Body Glide and steel armor ...

Sigh

I realized this morning that I'm quickly becoming a regular visitor in the land of Slothville. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I might even be moving there if I wasn't spending so much time in Gluttonia. My workouts are missing, my eating habits have deteriorated, my body feels like sluggish sludge. Nice.

One little backache (maybe not so little) and I feel I have a license to join the rest of the country in Sofatown. I know quite well how quickly I adjust to my natural state of rest. I'm so slow when I'm active that it's often hard to tell the difference between when I'm moving or not, but there really is a difference.

I think I need to schedule some challenging, scary event where strength and stamina are involved (even a half marathon would work). Working toward Chicago Marathon just gives me too much time to put off any focus. I need to start spending my extra time in Healthland with visits to Goodchoices.

You'd think by now I'd have learned how hard it is to make a comeback.

Let someone else be the fool

I had this whole, elaborate April Fool's blog entry planned for today. I was going to talk about how I decided to celebrate my 55th year by doing an Ironman. I would have talked about the commitment and training and weight loss and focus and hard work and joy of completion. How I needed to increase my speed on the bike and the run. I planned to announce my schedule of shorter races, my training and diet plans. Then I remembered that I dislike April Fools jokes, or any practical joke. So in the immortal words of Emily Litella, never mind.

I haven't run this week. I haven't gone for a walk this week. I haven't cycled this week. I haven't done any cross training this week. All I've done is simple core work. But Amy, you might ask, aren't you getting back into training, starting to run again, feeling strong? Well, until last week that was true. This week my body decided that it would be a great idea for my back to start shooting pains again. The good part of that was last night I took a muscle relaxant for the first time in many many months and slept for almost 7 hours straight. My back still hurts but otherwise I feel great!

Sleeping is definitely underrated. As a life-long insomniac I hope I'm one of those elderly people who sleep for vast chunks of the day. I'd love to sleep 8 hours at night and then take a 2 hour nap during the day. Or even 9 and 3. When I'm 85 I won't mind if I can sleep away half the day, knowing that most of my life I only slept less than half again of that.

Raise your hand if you need a nap!

Happy noniversary to me

With one more day like yesterday I think I would be entirely caught up. Unfortunately by the time I get another one, there will be more things that need to be done so catching up is not going to happen right now.

Although Saturday was forecast to be cold and rainy and windy, it turned out to be a pretty nice day. My hoped for 15 minutes of gardening turned into 3 hours. Yes indeedy, that most certainly is a trend with me. Once I get outside on a nice day I find more and more that needs to be done. Since the early afternoon was clear I threw on a long sleeved shirt and went to wrestle with my jasmine and my lemon tree. It was not only intermittently sunny, it was warm. Wonderful day to be outside.

I clipped and pulled and weeded and cursed my so called gardeners and delighted in the spring weather. Then I headed toward the lemon tree. Despite long sleeves, gloves and long pants, I got scratched and poked and mauled by that little overgrown thing. I picked a couple dozen lemons, some so indescribably nasty that I gagged, thinned it out a bit and then called it a day.

What does one do with a couple dozen lemons? Keep in mind that (1) I don't cook and (2) I don't bake. What I do is drink, so I made ice cubes! I squeezed about a dozen lemons and poured some into the only ice cube tray I have in the house. I used to have many ice cube trays but darned if I could come up with them anywhere. The only other thing I had convenient was the top of the little thing that holds eggs that came with the fridge. Odd, but hey, it worked. Many hours later I discovered that I probably should have watered them down a bit before trying to freeze them, since even now they're not hard solid. I tossed one in a glass of soda, and other than reminding me exactly why I'm staying away from citrus fruits, it was a great idea. The rest of the lemons I'll attempt to give to my coworkers. Maybe hide them in their desks when they're not looking.

My house is clean, for the first time in -- well, I'm embarrassed to say how long it's been. It wasn't a true spring cleaning; I didn't touch the baseboards, the windows, the cabinets, etc. But it's dusted and vacuumed and the bathrooms cleaned. Much nicer to be in now.

I didn't get much chance to be in my house today, it's momday. Several hours helping with her paperwork and taking her to lunch so I didn't get done the one thing I've been putting off. I did take my tax stuff out of the filing cabinet and spread it all over my table, so it's a start. Baby steps, right?

While I was writing check after check for my mom I realized that today's date was familiar to me because 19 years ago on this date I was busy marrying my future ex-husband. For the first time. Don't ask me the date of our second marriage. Or either divorce. It's funny how some dates, some numbers will stick in your brain forever and some won't stay there for more than a minute. I remember my ex's social security number but it took me 4 or 5 years to learn my cell phone number. I know the very long i.d. number for my company's payroll but can't remember my brother-in-law's birthday without looking it up (and he's been my bro-in-law for over 30 years). I remember my very first telephone number (Vermont6-9219 -- I'm sure most of you young whippersnappers won't remember that phone numbers started with the first 2 letters of a word. And we didn't have no steenkin' area codes either. But I digress. Again) but can't remember my current license plate. And passwords? Yikes. Good thing most places give you 3 tries before shutting down.

Moving right along ... or not. I took a few days off my exercise routine to give my body a bit of a break after the century. Those few days have now stretched into a week and my body is getting very displeased. The gardening and house cleaning felt like a workout. Tomorrow I intend to arise early, since I won't be asleep anyway, and start the week with some cross-training. Let's see how that works, shall we?

One long ride

I did it. This past Saturday I completed the Solvang Century; 103 miles of ... of ... of ... well, of cycling. It took me 9 hours of riding, about 10-1/2 hours out with the Team. It was hard, but I expected that. In fact, it was close to how I had imagined it would be (I have a very vivid imagination). I'll do a ride report soon but for now I don't think I've entirely processed the fact that I've gone so far. It was undoubtedly the hardest physical effort I've ever undertaken.

Now it's time to get back my life. The past year has been a blur, with my family situation, the triathlon training and then the century training. I need to re-center, re-focus my life. I have to learn again what normal is, or at least what my normal is. I need to clean my house, need to tend to my garden, need to pay my bills and oh yeah, prepare my taxes. I need to get back to a training schedule that won't knock me out, need to eat to enjoy it instead of to train. I need exercise that will reduce stress instead of increasing it. I need to stop whining and wine-ing since neither are doing too much for my sanity.

I want to knit and rummage through my stash to find what treasures I have. I want to stay up late to read a good book or come home and have nothing to do. I'd like to spend more time with friends and catch up with those I've neglected. I'd like to see a movie while it's still in the theaters. I want to travel and see new places. I want to walk if I want to, want to run when it feels right, want to swim if it's warm and cycle because I can.

To me, this is New Years Eve. I'm ready for a fresh start.

Runner girl still knits, but can't prove it

I have fallen deeply into dislike with my camera. In the old days (um, that would be "old" as in "last year") I would knit something, struggle with connections to my computer, attempt various times to upload pictures I had taken and after several tries get to view my completed or in-progress knitting projects. I finally got fed up with it not working smoothly, got fed up with the stitch details being blurred, got fed up with colors being on some other spectrum than reality. One of these days I'll do a little research and find a camera that is (inexpensive and) easy to use and that takes good pictures of close-up details.

Except for the long bike ride days, my knitting has continued unabated all winter. After a long ride my hands are too sore or stiff to knit; I've ended up making more mistakes than progress. These past months I've completed several pairs of fingerless mitts, a pair of gauntlets, many hats, a few shawls and several scarves. Right now I'm knitting up a scarf/shawl (a "scawl"? or a "sharf"?) with yarn from Stitches. I didn't make it to the show but I put in an order with a friend who has the best eye for color that I know. Over the fall and winter I knit a shawl with yarn from Stitches 2008. It was the pink/gray hunk of superwash merino from Tess' Designer Yarns and it was a pleasure to work with and it's a joy to wear (and very pretty to boot). I asked my friend to pick up more of that yarn for me, and specified a couple of colors or a range of colors. She brought me the English Sheepdog (and a red to be knit later) and I hurried home the night I received it and wound it right into a huge cake.
I cast on for the Opera Scarf, a pattern I've done before. I wanted something simple but beyond garter and not a plain rib. It doesn't get much easier than a 3 stitch repeat on a 1 row pattern. I thought the yarn would be perfect for the pattern; just enough body to hang right and soft enough to drape. After several rows I decided that it needed a bigger needle size so I frogged it. I re-cast on and after several rows decided I wanted it wider. Re-frogging and again re-casting and now I've got several inches on the needles. I'm still not sure it's wide enough. I'll let it go another couple of inches and decide then. It's such an easy pattern that I don't mind redoing. Over and over. Of course, at my speed it should be done in time for next winter's chill.

Now I have to just work on that whole "runner girl" thing.

Thoughts on a wet Friday

Anyone else who thinks all this rain we're having is the fault of the Amgen Tour of California raise their hand. Yep, I see lots of hands waving out there. It can't be a coincidence that we've been dry as baby powder all winter and now that we have teams of professional cyclists speeding along our roads, we also have winter storm warnings. While in theory I'd find the racers slogging through an errant California snow storm amusing, in fact I'm not too thrilled about it. Especially since I look to be one of those slogging (not a racer mind you, just a slogger). I've been looking forward to our Half Moon Bay ride all season and now it looks like it'll be soggy, at best. Fingers crossed for a break in the weather on Saturday. And for a patch of sunshine to lead the pro boys along the roads all week.

It's come to my attention that today is Friday the 13th. Ooooooh, spooooky. Actually, not. I don't have superstitions, I have phobias instead. I'm much more likely to tiptoe around a cow than I am to avoid walking in front of a black cat. I don't have a lucky -- well, a lucky anything, now that I think of it. I don't knock on wood and I don't throw spilled salt over my shoulder. I don't walk under ladders but that's because I don't want anyone dropping a bucket of paint (or a box of nails) on my head. A date on a calendar doesn't mean much to me and if something goes wrong today, it'll have nothing to do with Friday the 13th.

It has also, quite forcibly, come to my attention that tomorrow is Valentine's Day. There's no way to avoid it if you (1) listen to the radio, (2) watch television, (3) step inside any type of store, or (4) get email spam. Even when I was in a relationship I wasn't impressed with the day, created by retailers to sell pink and red stuff and shiny and sweet stuff. Now, since I love red things I've normally been able to pick up something for around the house in my colors, but my house is full and I don't need anything else, red or not. (Heh, I typed that "read" and yes, I buy lots of things that need to be "read.")

V-Day doesn't make me sad I'm single, doesn't make me long for romance and flowers and la-di-dah. What it does is create obstacles to my walking into a store. For a bearaholic like me, it's like waving a bottle of scotch (or vodka, or rum or tequila) in front of an alcoholic. Stores are filled with bears. Red bears, pink bears, little bitty bears, bit honkin' bears, cute bears, dainty bears, overbearing bears, bears bears bears. I'm trying so hard to limit my bear buying to medal bears and its --- so --- hard --- to --- resist. I've been strong, so far.

This week has been a wash, exercise-wise. I only took off a couple of days, but the days I did things, they weren't necessarily the things that are on my training schedule. I can't stress enough how much I miss having a running buddy, someone that I feel obligated to meet up with, someone who makes an hour run flow past like minutes. I've never had much get-up-an-g0 and on dark, cold, damp evenings I have much less. Throw in several nights in a row with little or no sleep, and I just want to curl on the couch with a blankie and a good book or my knitting. Not good for conditioning, not good for health, not good for weight control. Oh well, maybe next week I'll do better.

Ride from Point Reyes

I made it past 50 miles! After missing the mark the past 2 weeks, I finally rode right on past yesterday. My total was 54 miles and each one was hard earned. It was beautiful and hilly. And hilly. Did I mention the hills?

The team had staggered starts so that we could all meet afterward for lunch. Bree and I carpooled over to Marin; I left my house just after 6:00 am and we got to our meeting point at Point Reyes National Seashore just before 8:00. Long ride and we hadn't even gotten on our bikes.

This was Cole's Ride, named after a little boy who didn't make it through his struggle with Leukemia. Before the ride we heard about Cole's short life, his joy and fighting spirit. It is for Cole, and others like him, that we fundraise for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. We're riding for a cure, as the slogan goes, one mile at a time. Please, if you haven't given any money to the LLS, consider making a tax deductible donation now. Either through the link over on the right, or directly on their website; it all goes to the same place.

Our group got on the road at 8:45 am, a little later than scheduled. The hills started when we did. We went through Point Reyes Station and at about 15 miles had our first rest stop at the Cheese Factory. We left there and got to what was called the first hill of the day. Apparently those things we had been riding up and down weren't considered hills by our coaches. I disagreed, but nobody asked me. This so-called first hill had it's own name, never a good sign. This was a hill because of the grade; I'm pretty certain that it was completely vertical. Very tough to climb. Equally scary to descend.

Up, down, along Chileno Valley, toward Tomales, along Tomales Bay, up and down the rollers on Highway 1, past the Tomales Bay Oyster Company, up Stupid Hill (I don't know who named it, but it was appropriate), finally back to our starting point. Two weeks ago when we rode out there we saw the slightest bit of greening; yesterday the hills were deep emerald green and lovely. It was spring come early. We rode past a spectacular valley completely covered with bright yellow mustard plants. We saw a hawk sitting a few feet away from us on a fence post. A horse in a field decided to race us along the fence line. As we rode down a hill, a deer leaped across the road between 2 of our riders. It was beautiful, it was surreal.

And it was bone deep tiring. Almost exactly after I passed the 50 mile mark I hit the wall. Bonk city and it was territory I hadn't been in for a long time. I knew we had a few miles left and I didn't know how I'd make it, but I pushed on (it's that "never quit" thing). Everything ached, I had no strength in my legs or arms, I was wheezing and the on verge of tears. Coach Lorraine stayed right behind me, making sure I got back. Although I was deeply in the bite-me-zone, I was too tired to express any of it. I just needed to get off of the bike.

Once I stopped, stretched, drank and ate I felt much better. It was a very quick recovery and showed me that I didn't eat or drink enough while I was riding. Just like when I run, I find it hard to eat any solid food. Between my digestion and lack of appetite when I'm moving, I don't want food (the only time ever that I don't want food). But a million gels won't be enough for 100 miles so I'll have to work at it. I think I'll have a good chance next weekend since Coach Cyd told us we'd be back there again for our next ride. Oy.

Bree and I decided that we were way too tired to hang around and join the team at lunch. Dinner. Afternoon snack. Cocktail hour. Whatever you want to call it. We got back in her car and headed on home. I finally walked back in my door at 5:00 pm. Long day. I managed a shower and a frozen diet pizza and some hummus and pretzels and sat on my couch, again staring the tv like a zombie. It's becoming a habit.

We had arranged to run this morning so Anita, Bree and I met at the trail. We didn't have high hopes of a good run and after running for about 2 minutes I was wheezing and Bree's knee was swelling. We started walking, chatting, schmoozing, talking, headed along the trail. We ended up with 5 miles and a good walk. I think most of our Sunday runs after long Saturday rides will become walks; we just don't have the energy for more. But we promised Anita that after Solvang there'd be no more centuries, no more tri's. Back to running, knees and backs willing. We all miss the long miles.

I'm going to make an effort this week to get some cycling in, on the trainer. After spending the money and the time to set it up, I need to use it. I also need to clean my bike; the roads were wet and there's mud splatter all over my pretty shiny ride. Cycling, cleaning, running, eating and drinking, working. My week is full!

That fine line between stubborn and stupid

Determined and dumb. Relentless and ridiculous. Committed and should be committed. Getting the picture here? This all refers to my ride on Saturday.

I started off my morning just like I do whenever I've had training in Marin County: I got lost. My lost percentage is still a sparkling 100%, I've never arrived where I should on the first try. Again, thanks to my iPhone, I pulled up directions and figured out where I had gone wrong and found where I should have been in the first place. After much internal eye rolling at my absolute inability to follow directions when the signage isn't clear, I pulled into the lot.

It was chilly in the morning, but nowhere near as bad as it's been the past several weeks. Funny how warm 40 degrees can feel after spending so much time in the 20s. We left the staging area in a couple of large groups, headed out from a College of Marin parking lot. Our start was late due to a great talk by a local sports psychologist, but that made it warmer. The sun was shining, the air was clear, it was a great day to be outside doing something we enjoy.

Unfortunately my cold wasn't gone, my cough wasn't gone and on top of that, my allergies were active. I decided to take it mile by mile and after the first couple I thought I'd be lucky to make it to our first water stop at mile 17. My dry hacking cough wasn't impressed with the cold clear air. I was actually enjoying the uphills more than the downhills, because the air wasn't shooting into my lungs. Although the scenery was beautiful, my eyes were running and most things were blurry.

When I got to the first SAG I was attending a lovely pity party, thrown by and attended only by myself. I was even in tears, wondering how in the world I was going to ride another 30 miles. I decided to gut it through, decided that I was going to complete the ride no matter what. I didn't care about consequences, I mentally needed to ride the scheduled 50 miles. I headed off, deciding to delay any decision until the next SAG at about mile 36. This decision kept me just barely on the side of stubborn, determined, relentless and committed.

Things got worse as the route got more scenic. We were riding in an area where I had never been, on roads I had never seen. There were many cyclists out on this gorgeous day, lots of drivers careening along the roads at high speeds, some runners, lot of people out and about. Bree and I were riding together, she was concerned about me and was wonderfully protective and took the lead for the most part. We'd catch up with some teammates and be passed by others. There were long smooth uphills, short twisty uphills, relatively flat parts, straight long downhills; all the variety you could hope for. But my cough got worse and my attitude was plunging. I finally pulled into the second stop at Nicasio and there was only one big question:

Where the hell is Nicasio? Well, that was the immediate big question. I had no idea, in the general scheme of things, where I was. Sure, I had a little copy of a portion of a map of Marin County, but beyond that I was totally lost. We all know I have no sense of direction and I didn't even know where the cardinal points were. I could have been in any valley in any dry part of the country.

The other question was whether to continue on. I wanted, in the worst possible way, to ride 50 miles (although I knew at that point it would be more like 52 or 54 miles, and it turned out to be about 56 miles). I wanted to cross that half century barrier, wanted to ride with my team, wanted to be a good sport. It was the best riding day we'd had, but I couldn't breathe. Not only was I coughing up a storm, but I realized when I went to talk it over with the coaches and Claudia that I had lost my voice. I wandered to and fro, thinking furiously, stepping lightly back to my pity party, and realized it was no choice at all. I had to stop or make myself so sick that I'd miss another couple of weeks of training.

So I never crossed over the line but if you think that made me happy, think again. Grumpy, cranky and sad! I hate making the sensible decision when it goes against my desires. We put my bike in the car, waited for the last couple of riders to stop by, and then took the ride of shame back to the parking lot. My first DNF. Yes, I know it wasn't a race so it technically wasn't a DNF but it felt that way. And yes, I know there was no shame in quitting but it felt that way. When it only took my throat and chest a short while to clear up, for my voice to return, I questioned everything I had done. Because I'm like that. I think I made the right decision. Maybe.

During the long miles Bree and I had a heart-to-heart and decided that we were sadly mistaken when we thought we could train for a marathon while we trained for the century. Neither of us could imagine running 8 miles, let alone 13 miles, after a long ride. Buh-bye thoughts of running Vermont this May, hello enjoyable short mileage. Seriously, how over-achieving were we trying to be? Neither of us has ridden this length before (although we've both done metric centuries on minimal training) and neither of us remembered how fatigued our legs would be after 50 miles. Talk about a bummer and a downer and that just added to my unhappiness at stopping.

So the score is 40 miles on the bike, a cold that probably won't be gone for days, a knee that's still sore from last Sunday and the notion that I really need to listen to my body more. I repeat, I hate being sensible when it contradicts my hopes and desires. But I know I'm lucky to just get out there, lucky I can manage any miles at all on my feet and my wheels, lucky to only have a cold instead of something dire, lucky to live in such a scenic, gorgeous area. I'm going to attempt to focus on that!

Winter cold, cold winter

I go to work and hear the lovely sounds of sniffling, coughing, sneezing. Not all of it originates from my office, I think most of my coworkers either have, or have had, a cold (or, will be getting one soon). I stayed home a couple of days ago because I was coughing so much I couldn't talk (and even managed to pull something in my back from coughing too hard) but I have too much work to call in sick all week. And c'mon, it's a cold, right? Not fatal, just annoying. Can't wear contacts because my eyes are too icky, my nose is itchy and runny and stuffed and my lungs are feeling full.

My rule for exercise is if the cold is above my neck, I keep on with my regularly scheduled workouts. If the symptoms are below my neck I rest. Heck, I'm used to exercising with my mouth open since my allergies usually stuff up my sinuses. But I discovered that walking up 2 flights of stairs at work winded me. And most exertion makes me cough. So that all means that just when our training intensifies I'm taking time off to whine get better.

And what's up with this cold weather anyway? It's not that I have a perfect memory or anything, but I can't remember any winter since I started running (which is 9 years now) that has consistently been so cold. Or dry. I got used to running in rainy 40-50 degrees, but dry 20-30 degrees is very unusual. I know it's a drought year (I just have to look at my brown lawn) but dry and cold don't need to go together. A hundred years ago when I moved to California it was a drought year and it was in the 60's and 70's all winter. In fact, that's why I moved here; it was snowing in Michigan and I never wanted another cold winter. Hmmph. Stupid global warming.

Now we see exactly why I haven't been posting as much lately. Wow, I sure am cranky! Sorry ...

Lazy week

I knew it was a bad idea to cancel my plans to run the marathon next month. Especially this time of year I need a goal, an incentive, to participate in any activity during the week. My body's inclination when it's dark and cool is to hibernate: stuff myself with food and sleep for a couple of months. The fear of knowing I'll soon have to run for 6 hours usually will help me fight my natural inclinations.

It also doesn't help that I don't have a regular, comfortable, evening running buddy. Since I started running distances I've always had someone or several someones who I was meeting to run. I knew that my running buddy would miss out on her own run if I stayed home so I'd force myself to get out of the house. Once I got out there and after I was finished I was almost always happy that I had run. Both the exercise itself and the social contacts were important.

Now there's only the TnT buddy run on Tuesday where I don't really have anyone my speed. Attending that run means I have to stay at work a couple hours later than usual since driving home and back is a waste of time and gas (side note: gas at my corner station was down to $1.99 today! Whoohoo!). The trail we run is dark and the pavement is cracked and broken. Yes, I'm making extended excuses for not showing up.

Even if I don't leave the house there's no excuse not to be active. I have a fabulous treadmill, a comfortable recumbent exercycle, a trainer set up with my old bicycle, free weights of all sizes and shapes, a weight bench in the garage and a bazillion aerobics tapes. My exercise room has a television hooked up to cable, a vcr (yes, I still use it) and a dvd player. There's a lovely view of my backyard out the window and the room can be cooled or heated as necessary.

I haven't gained back any of the weight I lost this summer but if I stay on the couch napping and knitting it's only a matter of time. Must ... be ... active ... this ... winter ...

No excuses. Get up, get out, do something.

Hold up there!

I was going to run by myself after work yesterday. Really, I was. But in the mid-afternoon someone held up a local WaMu. First of all, a WaMu? Why rob a place that doesn't have money? Hey, if one of the robbers was a depositor, didn't he know about FDIC? Were they just trying to find out whether all those new commercials about WaMu's financial stability were correct? Geez bud, try a 7-11, they probably have more cash on hand.

Anyway. Because the robbers took off in that direction, the high school was in lock-down for a few hours. The report was that one of the robbers was last seen heading out on a bicycle. In the direction of the trail upon which I intended to run. I thought that was a valid excuse for me not to go running by myself. Be safe, rather than sorry. Or, be lazy rather than active. I chose to pick the first excuse reason.

Instead I napped did a bit of cross training and all of my back exercises. Not the level of workout that I had anticipated, but I really am tired this week. Wednesday night Phil and I swam again. When we arrived at the pool we found that a polo game was in process; half the pool was taken up with the game and the excess players warming up. Luckily the other end emptied out and not too many people are lap swimming these days. We each got our own lane and proceeded with the workout I had copied from early in the tri training.

We're trying to swim about 2000 yards each week and trying to vary the workout so that we're not just swimming back and forth. I hadn't taken a really good look at what I printed out. It was about 2000 yards, so it must be ok, right? No. It was the most boring workout ever. The warmup never got above level 2 and was 1050 yards. For just the warmup. Level 2 200, kick 200, level 2 200, rest. Then more 2/kick/2. I shortened the second batch and ended my warmup with 900 yards. The main set was sets of drills surrounded by sets of 200 yards level 4. Phil and I changed that since zzzzzzzzzzzz. I did two sets of 500 and one of 100, all at race pace and above.

Phil is a much faster swimmer (and runner) (and cyclist) than I am. At one point I decided to see if I could keep up with him: almost. We were going in the same direction at the same time and I flat out sprinted to see if I could get to the end of the lane (that's lane, not lap) at the same time as he did. I was right next to him for most of it and just a second behind at the wall, but I was whooped. Ooooh, a big 25 yard sprint and it almost did me in. I was ok after a recovery lap and that speedwork will probably help in the long run. Or long swim, as it were.

After the cool down I ended up with a total of 2000 yards in somewhere around 57 minutes (I forgot to turn off my watch, so I'm guessing). We decided that I'll make up our workouts from now on, with a warmup of no more than 400-500 yards, containing all the drills, and the main workout at race pace or above. I also think I'll change the intensity levels from the 1-10 we've been using to 1-5. I don't have 10 intensity levels! I have very slow, less slow and a little faster than slow. Ok, my levels are very slow, comfortable, race pace, passing race pace and sprint. But I won't have to create too many workouts right away. Because of other commitments, we'll only swim (at the most) twice more this month, then the pool is closed for "maintenance" for the entire month of November. In December we may find it's just too darn cold to swim outside, but maybe if all 3 of us show up we'll tough it out.

Good luck to speedy Phil this weekend at the Long Beach Half - I know you'll do great!

On the knitting front, last night I bound off my project. Since my bind-offs are always tight I went up 2 needle sizes and that worked very well. What's left is weaving in the ends. Weaving in the 48 ends. Weaving in the 48 ends on a 4-strand lace pattern. Yuck. That might take a while, just to get started. Maybe this weekend?

Beyond PT

Monday was my final physical therapy appointment for my back. Not because my back is completely better, but because my insurance company is tired of paying for therapy. Since the clinic bills $300 for an hour appointment I won't be paying for it myself. I feel like I've been in therapy all year and -- oh wait, I actually have been in therapy almost all year. I started in February and spent a few months trying to rehab my knee. By June I ran out of appointments but in late July I returned to try to fix my back.

My knee is apparently healed. If I were superstitious I'd knock on wood and throw salt over my shoulder and take back those words, but I really think it's better. My back is still hurting me, but not all the time and not even close to as badly as it did a few months ago. But I'm afraid to do lots of things and I move gingerly and I'm completely paranoid of further damage.

To celebrate the end of PT I was going to run on Monday night. Olivia wasn't able to meet me so I decided I'd go home and run on the treadmill. Bad decision, I ended up doing only my therapy exercises (which I'll continue until my back is perfect). I decided to run after work yesterday with exactly the same results. I'm not sure if I'm just burned out from the hard training this summer, or if I'm being lazy. I think it's a combination of those along with earlier darkness and a good book and enjoyable knitting.

Tonight I'll swim with Phil, but that will probably be the only exercise I get during this week unless I get up early tomorrow morning. I don't know why I even said that, it's completely unlikely that I'll get out of bed early enough to exercise or run. I really have to find someone my speed to run with after work a couple of days a week or I think I'll be in trouble.

I've almost finished my knitting project; I just need to bind off and weave in all the ends. Since there are about 50 ends to weave, and it's my least favorite part of knitting, it may take me a while. I have to decide whether to block it, as the pattern says to block before weaving. I'll have to take a good look at it tonight, while it's still light enough out to see it in natural light. I'm anxious to actually complete something, it feels like months since I've made anything.

I can't use weaving in ends as an excuse to not run!

Tri training: a retrospective

It all started almost a year ago. I was gathered with a group of friends celebrating Olivia’s birthday. We were drinking wine and eating. And drinking wine. Claudia sat herself down beside me and started talking about joining the tri team. I thought about it. She poured me more wine, talked about Pacific Grove Triathlon. More wine. Phil thought doing a tri was a great idea. More wine. Enough wine that I agreed to join the team and sign up for my first triathlon.

Time went on. I finished my last marathons of 2007, started planning my 2008 races. In January I was tired and worn out and one bright morning during a normal little 6 miler my knee went out. I ignored it, figuring the pain would go away with enough ice and advil. I continued running, my knee kept hurting. Worse and worse and then I could hardly walk. I finally went to see my doc who’d magically healed that same knee a few years earlier, hoping for that same old magic. The MRI showed quite a bit of inflammation and a tear in the meniscus. I began physical therapy.

Meanwhile, there was major upheaval in my family and work got complicated. I needed to get some exercise and since I couldn’t really run I started pre-training for the triathlon. Claudia and I began swimming at the local pool, following an old swim calendar from another tri season. I had my bike fixed up and started cycling with Bree . I continued to try to run while engaging in constant physical therapy.

Like I normally do, while under stress I ate and ate and gained about 10 pounds the first few months of the year. By the time the real tri training came around I was at my heaviest weight ever and feeling overwhelmed by responsibilities. Luckily my knee was starting to feel better and I managed to get in a couple of good training runs. Wanting to get at least one race under my belt before tri training, I went to visit my sis and ran the Country Music Half Marathon .

After swimming in the safe confines of the heated pool we hit the open water in mid-May. My confidence took a nose dive. I continued running, slowly and with some knee pain, and continued short bike rides and swimming regularly. I decided I needed to run one more race before tri training began so I registered for and ran the See Jane Run Half Marathon instead of going to kick-off.

Tri training started and I felt out of place and way out of my comfort zone. Despite the pre-training I felt fat and sluggish and unhealthy and old. Three of those were true. I was still determined to follow through on my commitment to raise funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and to complete my first triathlon.

At our second track workout I was doing mule kicks and felt something in my back twist in a way that a back shouldn’t twist. So as not to seem like an old fat weenie I continued and finished the workout. I managed to aggravate what would have probably been only a minor tweak. With large doses of advil and a bit of rest it improved enough that I ignored it to continue training.

Meanwhile I was having trouble coping. With just about everything. My training wasn’t going well and I was spending a lot of time crying. Very unlike my normal attitude and mood. I was internalizing and trying to swallow all my emotions and face the world like my normal self. It didn’t work too well.

In mid-June I completed the Tri for Fun, a sprint tri that taught me quite a bit about what I needed to do for the real tri. I didn’t count it as my first triathlon (even though it really was) because I wanted my first to be the real race I was training for.

That’s when the horrendous fires raged across the state, leaving a thick haze in the air. I couldn’t breathe, found training a chore but continued out of fear that I wouldn’t be prepared for the race. I substituted a couple of indoor workouts for the outside ones. The weather turned hot and stayed hot.

My world crumbled when I found out that three of my dear friends were moving away within the next few months. My little running group, which I hadn’t been able to be part of because of my knee injury and the tri training, was reduced by half. My depression increased. I stopped sleeping and my stomach constantly ached. I was actually losing weight instead of gaining it. I had difficulty focusing, cried constantly. Somehow I continued to go through the motions of training, continued the swimming and cycling and some running.

I finally had to go to the doctor, had to get help. I started taking antidepressants and an anti-ulcer medication. Things got much worse before they started to get better. There was improvement, then setbacks, then a major setback. My back got so bad that I couldn’t do the workouts. I managed to do my first swim race, the Aqua Challenge, but I couldn’t run afterward.

Back to the orthopedist and back to physical therapy. My depression was lifting, my stomach still unsettled. I continued to lose weight without trying and continued to get an average of about 4 hours sleep each night. Tri training progressed with me feeling a disconnect from the team, not feeling part of anything and deeply needing Claudia and Phil present to feel comfortable with group trainings. Training increased in length and intensity and I walked the runs so I’d at least have some time on my feet. I was exhausted and hungry.

The end of the season approached and I actually ran the long run. We had our test swim at Pacific Grove and my anxiety level went off the charts. Although my longest bike ride went well, I was sad and scared and knew I wasn’t ready for the race.

A few weeks ago I started my mental prep in earnest. I knew that if I went into the race feeling the way I did, I’d never finish. In fact, feeling that way I doubt that I would have made it out of the water. When I got into bed each night, knowing I’d never sleep anyway, I’d mentally practice the swim and transitions and finish. I pictured myself calmly diving in, confidently swimming behind and next to many other swimmers, getting kicked and splashed and hit. I smoothly swam though the kelp. I mentally practiced getting out of the water, running around the rock and diving back in. I saw myself swimming from buoy to buoy and to shore. I could feel the icy water on my face, feel my limbs trapped by the kelp, taste the salt. Through it all I saw myself completing a very successful swim in a calm, focused manner.

I also mentally rehearsed racing through transitions, hopping on the bike and strongly pedaling out and back and out and back and twice more. I saw myself racing up the hill and speeding the downhill. I saw myself confidently making the turns and speeding away. I thought about when I’d drink, when I’d eat. I practiced being relaxed and strong and smooth. I knew how well the second transition would go, imaged getting my legs under me to run. I saw myself running and then finally saw myself sprinting to the finish.

Before the race I had hoped that I’d be sleeping well and that my stomach would feel good enough to eat well. Neither of those happened. The lack of sleep gave me more time for my physical therapy exercises and the inability to eat resulted in a total weight loss of about 20 pounds. I didn’t mind that part at all and hoped being lighter would aid my race.

My plan for the race was simple: do whatever I could and do it as well as I could. I wasn’t asking any more of myself, didn’t think I could produce anything more. Knowing my training (or lack thereof), knowing my back was hurting, thinking my knee might give out, having no idea if I’d be able to fuel up and keep it down. My goals were:

• Worst case scenario: finish before they close the course
• I’d be happy with: 4:30
• Best case possible: 4:15

Sometimes we surprise ourselves!

Not as much downtime as I'd like

My hope for the weekend was that I could spend lots and lots of time doing nothing. Sitting around, staring at a book or the Olympics. Sleeping. Reading the paper. I got more accomplished than I had planned and spent less time on the couch than I'd hoped.

Saturday was a team bike ride along the same ol' route we've been riding. I don't mind, at least there's no chance in the world that I'll get lost. The route is easy-ish with an upgrade and a couple of short hills on the way out, downgrade with a tail wind on the return. Since we were finishing up a "recovery" week (ha haha hahahahah) we were to stick with low intensity. Since I pretty much only HAVE one intensity, that's how I rode.

The weather was perfect; the fog had just burned off, the wind was blowing, the sun was bright and the temp was just about 70. I rode most of the ride alone since somebody decided to ride on her own, but that way I was really able to power the return ride. Yeah, I know I was supposed to take it easy, but in that stretch I couldn't help it. My brand new tire behaved itself and didn't pick up any nails so the ride was a great success.

We were supposed to do a short run after the ride, about 1-1/2 miles. I got to walk it. Yawn. There's nothing wrong with walking. I just find having to walk when I want to run a real trial. I had to keep repeating in my brain "don't run, don't run, don'trundon'trun don'tdon'tdon'tdon't" because my feet just wanted to take off. I walked the whole thing though. I'm not stupid, I know that I need to let my back heal. But I'm getting very concerned since I haven't been able to do any bike/run bricks. My first one might be on September 13th and that will be challenging.

Sunday was scheduled for a 45 minute run so again, I walked. The team was running in Berkeley and since travel time would have been about 1-1/2 hours, I decided to stay home. In fact I decided to stay inside and use the treadmill. I watched some Olympics and some news and some cartoons and got my 45 minutes completed.

I miss running, I miss my running buddies.