Monday, January 28, 2013

The Marathon

Debbie and I survived the marathon...mostly. We're hobbling around the house this morning popping advil and wondering how we're going to go about our day.

The marathon started fairly early as far as marathons go. 6:15am. Debbie lives 45 minutes from the start so we ended up leaving at 4am. It was drizzling pretty hard and all I planned to wear was a tank top and shorts. Debbie and I poked a head and arm holes in trash bags and put them on.

I always start out too fast at the beginning of the marathon due to excitement and adrenaline and the large crowd. I planned to be around 3:45 for the finish so I started out following a pacer that was toting a small sign that read 3:40. I was wearing my Garmin GPS watch and it told me I was running way too fast for a 3:40. I wondered if our official pacer was wearing a gps. He was doing terrible at pacing. Around the second mile he turned to the group and informed us we were a bit ahead and then started making excuses about satellite reception and this and that. Irritated, I decided to pass the group and do my own thing.

Only a mile or so later, I found myself approaching another pace group. I noticed most people would slow down quite a bit going uphill, so I was pretty thankful for all the training I had done on the mountain road behind the station. As I neared the group, I read the sign: 3:30. I told myself I was going too fast and it would only be a matter of time before I just bonked and would probably either end up walking to the finish line or not finishing at all. I hung back, maybe a hundred feet behind the group... as if that changed the fact that I was way too fast.

After I caught up with them again on the next hill I decided I'd hang with them for awhile and see what happened. The spectators lining the street cheered for us as we passed and shouted that we were the largest pace group they had seen and to stick together, we were doing awesome. Yeah, awesome but I was going too fast and was going to suffer from this before long.

A pace group is made up of a couple people who are trained to run at a certain pace and they carry a little sign that reads when they plan to pass the finish line. Mind you, I was in a pace group 15 minutes faster than where I should've been.

I started to picture myself going a 3:30. My last marathon was a 3:53 and it just so happened that the Boston Marathon qualifying time for my age group is 3:35. I was not planning on running Boston and really didn't have any reason to try to qualify. It just didn't appeal to me.

It wasn't long before I became obsessed with trying to keep up with the group. It was such a change from the isolated runs I had been doing. The cheers from the crowds lining the street, the cowbells they were ringing, the view of the brightly colored sneakers pounding the pavement in front of me. It felt like I was in a race...which technically I was. But when running a marathon, there's a large spread of finishing times. It's one of the few sports where you can combine elite athletes with more mortal athletes. The first place male went a 2:19, the first place female went a 2:30 or something. So in reality, I was not in the race. But it felt like it anyway.

Coming down a large hill, my pace group that was supposed to be running an 8 min mile, was running a 7 minute mile. Despite the fact that I was now going a whole minute and a half faster per mile than I should be, I continued with my obsession of keeping up. I consider this a personality flaw but I'm not going to get into analyzing that.

As we got to the bottom of the hill, I ran into Debbie on her way up the hill. We slapped a high five and exchanged words of encouragement.

At the halfway point, we were at a 1:45 which is quite a bit faster than I've ever run for a half marathon. I thought, "Wow, that's really fast!" Then I did the math in my head. Half a marathon at 1:45 plus another half at 1:45 would have me finishing at a 3:30. So in order to finish at 3:30 I was going to have to run another 1:45. Why didn't I think about this 10 miles ago? Terrible move.

Of course by this point I had totally committed to the group. My body was starting to hurt. My hips and upper butt muscles were feeling a lot of impact. All the packages of sugary gel were hurting my stomach. I had already sloshed a recovery beverage into my right eye and water into my left. I was getting quite a bit of rub on the bottom of my left foot. The group continued on...so I followed. My gps quit receiving satellites.

We got back on the ocean front road and I tried to "sight see" and looked over at the waves watching for dolphins. I was in too much discomfort to watch for long and I focused again on the flourescent sneakers in front of me. The ladies leading the group promised us that we were about to turn around and head back and it would be downhill with a tail wind the rest of the way back. I believed them.

After mile 18, I had to poo. Sorry folks, gotta be blunt. I pulled over to one of the porta potties and had a few minute stop. When I came out, I looked up the hill (that's right, UP the hill) at my 3:30 group and wondered if I'd ever catch them again. I told myself to take my time, I had about 8 miles to catch up.

I ran too hard and caught up within a mile. It was another bad move. Once I got in with the group again, I took a mental inventory of how my body felt. It was pretty bad. But there I was, committed again.

We went over several more hills and I was starting to fade. By mile 20 I didn't want to run any more. I wanted to walk but I knew if I did I wouldn't start running again. It would be over.

By mile 22 I got pretty agitated and couldn't handle the sight of the shoes in front of me anymore so I moved up and ran next to the pacers.

At mile 24 I had had enough and just wanted to be done. So I pulled ahead of the pacers and took off running. By that point the marathon runners had merged with the half marathon runners and there were plenty of half marathon runners running much slower than the marathoners at that point. I felt like the large blister on the bottom of my foot was going to split wide open. I struggled to get around the slower runners and began to get angry.

I ran faster. As I hit mile 25 I realized I had pushed too hard. My hamstring was on the verge of a major spasm and I was on the verge of collapsing. I didn't know what else to do so I ran even faster. I had to get to the finish line before I fell over and needed an ambulance.

It seemed like I would never make it to the finish line. I passed a bunch of people, dodging around them. I just wanted to get there so I could stop.

I rounded the corner and saw the finish line. The clock read 3:31 (so my pace group didn't make it) as I finished. I was corralled through to get my finishers medal, a mylar blanket (kinda like aluminum foil to hold in the heat), water and a bag of food. I hobbled to get out of the corral area and almost fell over in front of a lady. I regained my balance and hobbled out of the gate to find a corner to collapse in. I was in so much pain I wanted to cry. But there was too many people and I didn't want to attract attention. I could hardly walk.

I found a corner of fence to camp out in and tried to stretch/cool down. It wasn't going to happen. I sat down on the ground. My face must've said it all because I was approached by a lady who asked if I was ok. I kinda chuckled and said yes.

I was going to have to find a medical tent and get tylenol. It was clear across the parking lot. I decided I would get my bag from the gear check table first. I hobbled over and gave the guy my check tag number. He was having a hard time finding it and I was having a hard time standing. I almost told him I'd be back for it later. I crouched down by the table and attempted to remain standing. I switched between standing and crouching a few times. I was going down. Pretty quickly. I had to get to the medical tent. There were so many people.

Finally the guy found my bag and I consolidated the bags I had accumulated and hobbled towards the medical tent. As I got there, two people sat down to be iced so the lady turned from me to handle them. I was going to fall over. I leaned on the table and focused on breathing. I crouched down again on the ground and tried to be patient. A line started to form behind the icers. I was going to be passed over again. Oh my god.

I moved over to where the line was forming and tried to stand patiently. The two icers got up and another lady sat down. I couldn't do this. I wasn't going to make it. I wanted to cry.

I made eye contact with the medical lady and must have looked pretty desperate. I told her I just needed some tylenol or advil or something. She handed me the tylenol and I hobbled off toward the car.

I dropped my stuff off and took the tylenol and grabbed my camera to go wait for Debbie at the finish line. I found a spot to sit down and change into dry clothes.

Debbie finally finished and we hobbled to the car, discussing our races.

"You went a 3:31?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah."

"That's awesome!" She said.

"Yeah."

"Wait, what's Boston?"

"3:35."

"Carrie, you just qualified for Boston!" She said.

"Um, yeah."

"You're going to Boston!!"

"Uhhh.... I don't know."

"You have to go! You can't qualify and not go!" She told me.

I can't make these sort of decisions until I no longer hurt. Every which way I turned last night everything hurt. This morning I can hardly walk and even my back and shoulders hurt. I don't know why people do this.

So my official time was 3:31.08. The race photos aren't up yet but when they are I'll post the link. It'll be interesting to see how my face changes throughout the race. Until then, this is Debbie and I posing after the race.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

San Diego, Again

I'm sitting on Debbie's balcony that looks out onto the boats and palm trees of the Shelter Island marina drinking a cup of coffee in jeans, a t-shirt and bare feet. It's overcast but so much warmer than up north. I've been back 5 hours and have come to the conclusion that San Diego will always own my heart.

I feel I'm pretty happy up north in my new home. I love my house, the area is gorgeous and quiet. I get farm fresh food from the ranch just a few miles away, I've got a good job and I've made some wonderful friends.

As we circled San Diego to prepare for landing, I looked out towards Old Town and felt a rush of memories sieze me. My childhood and a good portion of my adult life was spent making memories here and I forget how much of a part of me it is until I come back and it's an overwhelming flood of emotions each time.

We landed in the commuter terminal and walked down the steps onto the tarmac. I looked left towards the harbor and the dowtown skyline and again felt a surge of memories and emotion.

Not to mention it was so warm! Even with overcast skies and "dreary" weather, it was so uplifting compared to the northern winter. After settling in at Debbie's place I went for a run on Shelter island, staring out at the harbor and the Pt. Loma penninsula. I could see the light house where Candace got married, and Cabrillo National Monument where her dad's ashes lie. My dad's ashes aren't too far from here, a mile out to sea off the coast of Ocean Beach... or where they once were. I suppose they could be clear across the world by now, drifting among plankton and kelp, weaving in and out of the gills of fish and sharks as they breathe.

I drove up the road to Trader Joes to get a couple things and it only took between 5 and 10 minutes. If I want to go to Trader Joes where I live, I drive 1 hour one way. As I climbed out of the car, the sun shone brightly on my face and the moment did not go by unappreciated. It was a quick easy trip, and the sun was warm and comforting. I realized it has been since being in Arizona for Thanksgiving that I have actually enjoyed being outdoors.

Which is where you'll find me now...sitting on the balcony listening to the world go about its usual business and waiting for Debbie to get home from work.

I'm reminded of a song by Death Cab For Cutie, except that song sounds more like being a stalker. "I will possess your heart" and I feel like San Diego does.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Good Enough (continued)

I'm a firm believer in being hard on myself. Usually very hard on myself. There comes a time though, when enough is enough.

This is one of those times.

Truth be told, I've been hard on myself all day today. It started around 2:48 am when I woke up and put more wood in the woodstove. I was fairly awake, which meant at 4:30 when my alarm clock went off, I'd be groggy. We've been through this before and every time it's the same. I told myself to just get my day started now since I didn't want to face the groggy fight to get out of bed. Well that's just silly. I went back to bed.

My alarm clock went off at 4:30am and just like I knew would happen, I was too groggy to want to get out of bed. Maybe I'll skip the gym. I've been so good lately, one day won't hurt.

Get out of bed! Came the reply in my head. I closed my eyes and rolled away from my alarm clock. When I rolled back over it was 4:45. Now Carrie, get out of bed now.

I don't remember what time I finally got out of bed, but I coaxed myself out by promising two cups of coffee instead of the usual one. And I promise you can go to bed super early tonight. Like 7, if you feel like it.

I made coffee and poked around at the woodstove. I started pouring more pellets into the pellet stove and dumped half of them on the floor. I was sleepy and exasperated. I picked them up, packed my lunch and stuck a bowl of oatmeal in the microwave. When I opened it again, the oatmeal had boiled over and was all over the microwave. Ugh!

I tossed what was left of it into my lunch box, cleaned the microwave and started the car. I came back in and made a protein shake for breakfast and one for after the gym, got in my car and went to the gym. Two cups of coffee and all, I still wanted to just crawl onto a mat and sleep. I didn't dare sit down for any exercises. In between push-ups and bent over rows, I eyed a bench warily. It called my name. Just sit for a second. One second won't hurt. I looked away and chose to ignore it.

After my workout I went off to work. Since it was cold, I wasn't going to run until it warmed up, but it occured to me that it would probably be snowing later.

After lunch I stared out the window at the dumping snow. "If you went running when you first started thinking about it, you'd be back by now". Yeah yeah.

I decided I would run after work, in the gym, where it was warm. Really? You promised I could go to bed early. Suck it up, it's just one night, you'll survive.

Around 2:30 the snow let up and there were occasional guest appearances from the sun. Go now!!! I don't wanna go! Ok, fine. Just get changed and see how you feel after that.

I changed into a pair of warm tights, a thermal under armour shirt and some wool running socks. I looked out the window. Is it snowing again?! Not that bad, get your headband and gloves on, grab a radio and go.

I put on my shoes, my gloves, my headband, grabbed a hand held radio and peaked out the door. It was snowing firm tiny snowflakes. You can do this.

I took off up the hill. Maybe just 3 miles. Oh quit it. It's not snowing that hard, you are plenty warm and you have a radio. You are going 8 miles. Maybe 5? There's no reason, other than your own weakness, that you can't do 8 miles today. Ok, ok, I'll do 8.

I jogged up the muddy mountain road as not-so-fluffy snowflakes pecked at my face. I watched them bounce off my nose and cling to my eyelashes. I watched the sky. Big looming clouds hung in the air with occasional gauzy blue sky. Seven. How about 7? How about you shut up and do 8?

As I approached the peak of the road I was running on, I could see that a storm hung in the drainage where I was going to turn around and head back. How about 5? Actually it would be 5 and a half, which is better than 5. It was 2.2 up to the S*&t Ponds (don't ask), 1.6 to the Y and 1.6 back. Basically 5 and a half miles. Uphill in the snow and mud. And that storm is gonna beat you back. Ok, 5 and a half it is.

My body was tired. I considered it to possibly be a result of the attitude I had started with, not wanting to run at all. Then again it could be a result of my coworker running me into the ground the day before yesterday.

I reached the Y (a fork in the road) and turned and ran back down the hill, sliding in the mud the whole way. I rounded a corner and my right foot suddenly weighed more as I picked up a clod of mud. I finally made it back to "The Knoll" and walked across the cattle guard and down to the station. I turned and looked at the dark sky building behind me. Maybe you should run back up and finish the last 2.5 miles.

My response was a two word reply that translates to something like, the heck with that.

When I got home, I pulled into the driveway at 5:15pm, put my bags in the house and changed into a heavier jacket. I grabbed the mail from the mailbox and dropped it on the dining room table, grabbed my leather gloves and the log tote from the floor by the woodstove and headed to my back yard. I split and carried in 3 loads of wood and then went out to the carport and carried in 2- 40lb bags of pellets for the pellet stove.

At 5:30 I knelt down in front of the wood stove to coax a fire into burning.

5:50- Reheated leftover lamb curry (homemade of course) and sat down to eat.

6pm- Ran a hot bath and filled the pellet stove with pellets. Plopped into the tub.

6:30- Was overheated from the scalding hot water and pulled my tired body out. Put on my awesome frog slipper-socks and pj's and settled in front of the computer to finish writing this.

It is now 7:02pm. I am going to grab my kindle, brush my teeth and go to bed. As promised. Sometimes it is ok to do a little less than we set out to do, because sometimes the struggle lies in simply setting out.

The Courage to Go Run

Today is an 8 miler. It's currently dumping snow and I'm at work, so there is no option to run indoors unless I go after work. This morning I promised myself I could go to bed super early tonight so running 8 miles after work probably won't happen. I googled "running inspiration".

I had to laugh at this one: "If you went running when you first started thinking about it, you'd be back right now." Yes I would. But it was 26 degrees when I first started thinking about it. Now it's a whopping 32, but dumping snow.

"There will be a day when I can no longer run. Today is not that day." Inspiring, yes. Is it getting me out the door? No.

Here's the thing. It's dumping snow. I'm at work. My options are to drive to a flat deserted road and run 8 miles, or head out the road going up the mountain behind the station and run 8 miles. Either one gets me in a deserted area in cold weather, snow and possible mountain lions. Did I mention it's dumping snow? It looks almost like a blizzard out there.

This is not going well...maybe it'll let up in a couple hours.

To be continued...

Friday, January 4, 2013

Dream within a dream

Have you ever dreamed that you were dreaming...and then "woke up" and continued to dream? I had a pretty crazy one last night that was incredibly vivid.

My crew was on a fire somewhere in a dense forest. For some reason I was the highest ranking one among us, and our overhead were elsewhere. I had our lead sawyer lead us out to the line and I took up the back so I could make sure everyone made it ok. Partially into our hike, we heard a loud road from the right of us. We turned and looked and the fire was blazing out of control and heading straight for us. There was no where to go, we were trapped and could not out run it. I was terrified, we were all going to die. A voice in my head said "Wake up Carrie, wake up! You're at your home in Montague". I couldn't wake up no matter how hard I tried. Suddenly the fire had passed and we were all ok.

I woke up in my own bed in Montague and went to see if I needed to put another log on the fire in the woodstove. When I got to the woodstove, the logs sitting beside it were black and reduced to mere charcoal briquets. I looked around to find my walls burned through and still glowing hot from the smoldering fire. The fire had burned through the living room wall and into the ceiling in the guest room. I grabbed my cell phone and ran outside to call 911. I felt so heartbroken by the extent of the damage to my house.

When I got outside it was a warm summer day. There was water spraying everywhere. The fire had burned into the ground and burned through the sprinkler system (that isn't even hooked up to water anymore). People driving by on the street stopped and one guy yelled that my roof was on fire. I turned to find flames shooting out of my roof.

I woke up again. In my own bed in Montague. I decided I had to check the woodstove. It was fine. I put another log on for good measure. And went back to sleep.

As I returned to my house, there was a fire chief that greeted me at the door and tried to explain to me that my house had burned down. I asked him if my boss had put him up to this, being as I must have told him about my weird dream. The fire chief handed me a handful of cash...for guessing right that it wasn't true and my boss had put him up to it. My boss was standing behind the door laughing.

Incredibly strange. I have these dreams fairly often where I wake up in them and go about my day. And then wake up again. It can be frustrating, especially if I've already "woken up" and gone to work or something and then I wake up... and have to go to work.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

First Bread!

Not only was this my first recipe of the year, it's also the first time I've ever made bread. It also might possibly signify my journey into the world of baking. I don't know, baking sounds like such a dirty word. If you make bread, does it mean you're baking?

A little history is in order. I don't have a whole lot of self control, which is somewhat strange because I do have a significant amount of self-discipline. Last week while searching for all sorts of motivating quotes on self discipline, I came across this:

"Self-discipline might be defined as marshalling one’s willpower to accomplish things that are generally regarded as desirable, and self-control as using that same sort of willpower to prevent oneself from doing what is seen to be undesirable or to delay gratification." (http://www.alfiekohn.org/teaching/selfdiscipline.htm).

Maybe that's not right. Maybe I do have some sort of self control, but it's imposed at the grocery store and not at my house. I think it's because I only spend so long in a grocery store so I can speed past the things I really don't need to be taking home. At home on the other hand, I can only walk away from a plateful of brownies so many times before I finally sit down with the entire plate and a fork. Bad idea.

So I buy a couple of dark chocolate bars every once and awhile and it's ok. I do not bring home ingredients to bake a batch of brownies because I will literally sit down and eat the entire batch of brownies.

I once thought that I harnessed some sort of will power. I was spending the day with my aunt in Boulder a few years back and we stopped at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. I selected some fine truffles and explained to my aunt that these would actually last me some time because they were so rich. They weren't like Hershey's Kisses where you could sit and eat the whole bag. No, these were fancy chocolates. Ones that you eat one a day. Or something.

They were gone before the day was out. Boy did she tease me about that.

I also had a slip a year or so back. We'll call it the French Truffle Incident. I blogged about it, so I went get too much into detail but I had bought an amazing French cookbook and after making a few decadent meals, discovered that I could make my very own French Truffles. Have you ever had French Truffles? They're amazing!

I don't own sugar, cocoa (although cocoa in itself is not that bad for you), white flour, butter, etc. I went out and got the ingredients for the truffles and while putting them in my cupboard, got a strange sensation of guilt. I brushed it off. Either that night or the next morning, I went into a craze where I found it absolutely unacceptable that I had become "one of those people". Those people who own white sugar and flour, butter and the like, and can just add it all willy-nilly to any food they want because it is RIGHT THERE!

I put a stop to that before it even started. I bagged it up and took it to work and handed it all off to one of the women. For free. Freakish? Yep. You should've seen what that little scenario was like. Anyway, so just when you think you might be crazy, you can rest assured that I am most likely as crazy, if not more so, than you. I just hide it well.

So I stay away from "baking". Like brownies, cakes, pies, truffles, sweets I guess you'd say. But to some extent, things like bread as well. I have figured out though that if you use the right ingredients, bread is not so bad for you after all. I only own whole wheat flour and brown rice flour. I own coconut oil instead of butter. I have agave nectar instead of sugar. I have absolutely no white flour, sugar or butter in my house. Or margarine.

Oh sure, I can go out and buy a brownie. That's not a big deal. It's an awesome treat. But I don't go buy 12 brownies. Because I know what I will do with them.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah. So I found a recipe for yeast free bread on Food.com. I chose yeast free simply because I hear that yeast is kind of difficult to work with, what with all the rising and not rising. It's a super simple recipe and it came out so well. I can't believe people talk about bread being so hard to make! Here's the basic part of it, then I'll tell you how I tweaked it.

Ingredients:
3 cups whole wheat flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1.5 cups rice milk (works with any liquid)
1/4 cup liquid fat (melted margarine, olive oil, vegetable oil, etc) I used melted coconut oil.

Directions:
Mix dry ingredients.
Mix liquids and add to dry.
Stir until there is no more flour. The dough should be moist but not sticky.
Shape into ball or oval.
Score the surface lightly in a diamond or X shape to prevent splitting of crust.
Place on clean cookie sheet.
Bake for 35 minutes at 400 degrees.

And voila. Bread. The recipe actually called for baking it for 40 minutes but it was starting to get pretty darn crusty. I pulled it out and started eating it right away. It was so good!

So I used almond milk for the liquid and coconut oil for the fat. I added cinnamon, vanilla and honey to make it a little on the sweeter side.

I think for my next attempt I'll do some sort of sun dried tomato basil bread. It says you can use tomato juice as the liquid (or any juice really) to make it more savory.

Or maybe a rosemary olive oil bread?

The great thing is, these are healthy ingredients. You can make things as healthy as you want, really. Which is why it's ok for me to make bread. Everything in moderation though, obviously.

Happy New Year!

I don't normally make New Year's resolutions because I believe that when we find something we want to change in our life, we should start now, not January 1st. Every day is a good day to start improving yourself. But I woke up this morning and decided to make some resolutions. These aren't new, they've been on my mind for awhile and in the works, but I think having New Year's resolutions are about making a declaration. Here's how I'm going to take last year's lessons and apply them to this year.

1. Prepare for the winter during the summer. There's a lot that goes into this. First of all, I make a lot more money in the summer than in the winter. As a matter of fact, winter wages do not pay the bills. I made a good deal of money this year and put it into worthwhile areas such as sending extra money towards paying off my mortgage, paid off my credit card debt, bought a pellet stove to heat the house and some much needed window shades. All good investments. But I neglected to put a good amount of cash away for winter use. This has resulted in some penny pinching for me this winter. Nothing extreme as I've still got some put away, but enough to make me wish I had put more away.

The second area I need to prepare for in advanced is heat. Up here you actually do have to prepare for winter ahead of time in this area. Wood needs time to season, or dry up. And it takes more than 6 months. If you use green wood, it doesn't put out as much heat and you end up using a lot more of it as I'm experiencing right now. Lesson learned. My wood shed and kerosene tank will be full before fall arrives.

I will also get the electrical updates done in my house this summer so I can insulate the house. The walls, attic and crawl space will all be insulated this summer. No excuses, it needs to be done.

2. Declutter. If I don't need it or use it, I'm getting rid of it. I'm giving it to some one who will. I've got a lot of stuff and it all sits in closests in my house. And it causes me stress. Enough, I'm done. I'm doing a "spring cleaning" in winter.

3. Sit on the porch! I love my front porch but I don't think it gets used enough. Probably because it isn't totally furnished. I've got to make a decision on what furniture to put out there and get it out there. It's a great way to relax and let go of the day, or even greet the day.

4. Invite people over. I live 6 miles out of town (I know, far right?) and always go into town to hang out with people. My friend mentioned to me the other day that I never invite them over for dinner. I was kind of surprised. I guess I just assumed they knew they had an open invitation and could come over whenever...and that they would sort of invite themselves over. Silly right? Well, that's enough of that too. If I invite people over, they'll come. If I don't, they won't. I've got a big beautiful house that's just asking to be lived in!

5. Don't sweat the small stuff. I know we all have problems with this, but I have to remind myself all the time. There are usually much bigger issues in life than whatever I'm stressing about. I need to save my energy for those big issues that do occasionally arrive.

So there you have it. 2013 in a nutshell. Now I'm going to eat breakfast and then start cleaning out my bedroom.

Happy New Year!