I don't make new years resolutions because just the name makes me think of goals that get dropped within the first month. However, this year I have decided to make the majority of my diet fruits and vegetables, start at a fairly low running mileage and work up slowly (last year was a string of injuries), and ride my bike more (and do my first Century ride--that's a hundred miles in case someone was unsure of what "century" means). My school schedule this semester, while slightly heavier than last semester, is beautifully laid out to allow all sorts of wonderful things to happen. Like working out, sleeping, eating right, and studying!
So I'm back training with the local riding club. It's not a racing club. I don't do that on a bike. I'm pretty certain that humans where never meant to hurtle themselves through life at deadly speeds. Saturdays and Mondays are my riding days. If there's a club ride on those days that fits my needs, I do my ride with the club. If not, I do it on my own. It's way more fun with the club. I run alone, but I enjoy riding with other people.
On Monday I went on a ride that was categorized as a Grizzly and not a Goat. Grizzlies are fun. Goats go up mountains. That 28 mile ride was the hilliest Grizzly I've ever been on. It was ridiculous. I could not stop eating afterwards. It was rated a 3M. The three stands for how hilly it is and the M stands for the pace it's led at. An M pace is generally about 13-15 mph. A good speed but certainly not crazy race speed.
So today when I saw there was a 4M Goat through the Redwoods, I thought it was perfect. About 20-23 miles (forgot to turn on my garmin at the start). I somehow actually possess a small amount of natural climbing ability on a bike, which somewhat surprises me. I never liked hills in my past life.
I would also like to point out that most of the people on this ride were in their 60's and 70's. They are so inspiring. I can't believe people ride hills like these for fun, let alone well into their 70's. If you think you're too old for something, think again.
The ride started out ok. Certainly doable on my part. The hills weren't too steep and they weren't too long either. I obviously lack the downhill ability, but again- humans, speed, hurtling through space.... you get what I'm saying.
Then there was this really long climb up toward the Summit Store (note the word "summit"). Bikes only possess a certain amount of gears. I've had people comment on my compact double gears. Some people tend to think I need more gears. I figure what I lack in gears I just have to make up in leg power. One of the older guys (70's?) had gearing very similar to mine and he was doing just fine. I watched him climb for a long time in his very last gear. But so far I'm fairly happy with my gear options and wouldn't trade my bike (or gears) for anything else.
The climb went on forever. But boy, it was gorgeous. Huge redwood trees, bright green ferns. Just beautiful. And deer on the side of the road. When I was able to look up and around me, I was just in awe. Then my legs would remind me what we were here for and I tucked my head down again and let my vision blur as I followed the flashing red light of the guy in front of me. That's how I eventually decided to cope. Let the eyes lose focus, stare at the road, and follow that light in the periphery.
Forever. It went on forever. I had been in my easiest gear since the start of this climb. No more options. Head down, zone out. My god I wanted it to end. As much as I could I kept on the tire of the lead guy. I wondered if he could hear my breathing. I heard his wife shooting snot rockets behind me, reminding me how close she was. No slowing down.
Finally we got to the top and waited for the rest of the group. We meandered down a busy road and turned off to a quieter one. Then we headed down a very long and very steep ravine. Weird. "Summit Store"....."summit".... why are we heading down? I'm ready for coffee and the sweet potato wedges in my pocket.
I focused on not crashing and not overheating my rims with the brakes. I finally reached the bottom where the downhill pro's were waiting for those of us too squeamish to go careening headfirst down the side of a mountain.
The ride leader was having a snack so I pulled out my potatoes and had a few. Strangely enough, everyone's bike was aimed in the other direction. As if we were going to go back up that hill. Naah. That would be dumb. Who rides down the steepest ravine in the area just to turn around and head back up?
We do.
I am fortunate that I didn't know this ahead of time. I already had enough trepidation coming down the hill. I was glad I didn't also need to consider coming back up it.
A few people took off to get a head start. My heart was pretty much sitting in the bottom of my cycling shoes. I was exhausted. I had to go back up that thing? I exhaled, remounted my bike and headed up.
I passed one guy. Continued up. One of the girls was in my sights. I crept closer. Man it was miserable.
And then the 70-something lady sped past me. It was still steep people. Not kidding.
And then there we were. Back up to the top of the hill where we started (not traveling very efficiently then, huh?).
About a mile or so down the road was the Summit Store.
As we sat and drank our coffee, I ate a little bowl of fruit and the rest of my sweet potatoes. As we discussed the ride back, several people expressed an interest in more Goats. Are you kidding?! Have we not climbed enough mountains today?! These people make me feel like a wimp. But I tell you what. My pride had absolutely nothing to say at this point and I chose to go with the group heading back to our vehicles and skipping the extra climb.
On the way back I worked on my turns heading down the winding mountain road. Did my best not to die. Now my entire body is hurting and I need to eat again. I took a hot bath and I'm now drinking coffee to try to get myself moving again.
At coffee, one of the guys said if I want climbing I should join the Tues/Thurs group. Thankfully I have school all day on Tues/Thurs. At this point I do not need anymore climbing than what I just did. Running is going to suck tomorrow.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Obviously Paranoid
People tell me I have a very active imagination. Well duh! Would I be such an awesome writer and hilarious person if I didn't? Unlikely. I don't think I'm clinically paranoid- not like schizophrenic or anything (wait-deja vu here...I think we've discussed this before). I've seen schizophrenia and I don't think I exhibit the symptoms closely enough to see a doctor.
This morning as I was doing the dishes, around 7 or 7:30, I heard the squeak of the neighbor's bath faucet (they are loud in this complex) and the water in my kitchen faucet lost pressure and a bit of heat. I made a point not to mess with it or turn it off and on as it really sucks when you're trying to shower and someone else is messing with the water.
We all went about our day.
Somewhere between 11 am and 1 pm, the neighbor turned on her stereo excessively loud. The walls are thin here and my living room wall vibrated with the boom of the bass. Ugh.
Around 1 or 2 the downstairs neighbor came up to ask my neighbor to turn the music down. She knocked on the door and window for about 5 minutes before giving up and disappearing.
I had errands to run.
I got home past 3 and the stereo was still going. Obviously my neighbor was dead. It was the only explanation. Either she had killed herself or someone had killed her.
By 5 I was beside myself with the noise. I do not do noise well. And constant noise is completely intolerable to me. I can't handle it. I can't handle the background noise that people love so much. People playing music too loud, talking too loud. I just read something about noise sensitivity but that's another story. Back to the neighbor.
I tried my noise canceling headphones. First I tried them with music which only exacerbated the problem. Adding more noise to noise intolerance is not the answer.
I discovered free white noise generators on the internet. Pretty cool. Simply Noise has white noise, pink noise, and brown noise. As well as rain noise. Turns out my ears or brain or whatever handles pink noise much better than the white or brown noise. And rain wasn't what I was looking for.
MyNoise not only has a ton of color noise but also some other sounds for health, tuning out other noise, relaxation, etc. What's cool about this one is you get to first calibrate all the noise for your ears. We all hear tones differently and calibrating the noise took some very offensive tones out for me.
Anyway, I could still hear the thumping music.
So I took two tylenol and a long hot bath...and ate most of a large chocolate orange bar. And felt significantly better.
6 pm- the music was still going strong. The downstairs neighbor pounded a little while. The manager came up and pounded awhile. She was definitely dead. I decided she killed herself and left the music on real loud so someone would call the police and she'd be found before she was too rotted. That was nice of her.
My manager called my cell phone and asked if I was home and if the music was bothering me. I told her it had been since about noon. She said she just called the neighbor and she isn't even home and no one should be there and there wasn't any music on when she left and the downstairs neighbor must be mistaken. Nope, it was definitely her apartment. She was on her way home from Salinas, an hour away.
So an ex boyfriend broke in and hung himself. When she got home, she'd have a scary surprise. I wondered if she would go in by herself or if she'd ask one of us to go in with her. I would be scared to go in if somehow, mysteriously, the radio was turned on when I wasn't home. Actually I'd probably call the police and have them go in and check it out.
I heard the door open next door and then the music was finally off.
Holy shit she went in by herself!
I peaked out the window. The security door was left wide open. I didn't hear anything else. Well if it were me I'd want someone with me.
I opened my door and peaked my head out. No sound. Ah geez.
Well she wasn't screaming so that was a good sign.
I walked outside and stepped over to her door. The security door was wide open but her inside door was only open about half an inch. The light was on inside.
"Cheryl?" I called to the door.
"Yeah?" I heard her reply.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." She came out apologizing. She has no idea how the stereo turned on, but she had just gotten it and thought maybe it was on some sort of a timer on accident. She felt terrible. I was just surprised she just went on in as if she didn't think she'd find someone in there. Am I the only one who automatically assumes the worst in a situation like this? How else would your stereo turn on, blasting, without some crazy ex boyfriend breaking in and turning it on? Or a serial killer or just plain crazed maniac?
I also don't know how someone could break into one of these apartments without leaving significant damage either, so it had to have been someone with a key.
I still think someone went in there. She asked if anyone had been in there during the day. I don't know. I didn't really have a reason to pay attention. She said no one should be in there while she's gone. First off, that just seems weird. How would anyone get in there anyway? No one should be in my house when I'm gone either. Weird. Second, I don't know when she's there or not. I have no reason to make any sort of mental note about the opening and closing of her front door. It's much easier to note my heavily vibrating walls.
This morning as I was doing the dishes, around 7 or 7:30, I heard the squeak of the neighbor's bath faucet (they are loud in this complex) and the water in my kitchen faucet lost pressure and a bit of heat. I made a point not to mess with it or turn it off and on as it really sucks when you're trying to shower and someone else is messing with the water.
We all went about our day.
Somewhere between 11 am and 1 pm, the neighbor turned on her stereo excessively loud. The walls are thin here and my living room wall vibrated with the boom of the bass. Ugh.
Around 1 or 2 the downstairs neighbor came up to ask my neighbor to turn the music down. She knocked on the door and window for about 5 minutes before giving up and disappearing.
I had errands to run.
I got home past 3 and the stereo was still going. Obviously my neighbor was dead. It was the only explanation. Either she had killed herself or someone had killed her.
By 5 I was beside myself with the noise. I do not do noise well. And constant noise is completely intolerable to me. I can't handle it. I can't handle the background noise that people love so much. People playing music too loud, talking too loud. I just read something about noise sensitivity but that's another story. Back to the neighbor.
I tried my noise canceling headphones. First I tried them with music which only exacerbated the problem. Adding more noise to noise intolerance is not the answer.
I discovered free white noise generators on the internet. Pretty cool. Simply Noise has white noise, pink noise, and brown noise. As well as rain noise. Turns out my ears or brain or whatever handles pink noise much better than the white or brown noise. And rain wasn't what I was looking for.
MyNoise not only has a ton of color noise but also some other sounds for health, tuning out other noise, relaxation, etc. What's cool about this one is you get to first calibrate all the noise for your ears. We all hear tones differently and calibrating the noise took some very offensive tones out for me.
Anyway, I could still hear the thumping music.
So I took two tylenol and a long hot bath...and ate most of a large chocolate orange bar. And felt significantly better.
6 pm- the music was still going strong. The downstairs neighbor pounded a little while. The manager came up and pounded awhile. She was definitely dead. I decided she killed herself and left the music on real loud so someone would call the police and she'd be found before she was too rotted. That was nice of her.
My manager called my cell phone and asked if I was home and if the music was bothering me. I told her it had been since about noon. She said she just called the neighbor and she isn't even home and no one should be there and there wasn't any music on when she left and the downstairs neighbor must be mistaken. Nope, it was definitely her apartment. She was on her way home from Salinas, an hour away.
So an ex boyfriend broke in and hung himself. When she got home, she'd have a scary surprise. I wondered if she would go in by herself or if she'd ask one of us to go in with her. I would be scared to go in if somehow, mysteriously, the radio was turned on when I wasn't home. Actually I'd probably call the police and have them go in and check it out.
I heard the door open next door and then the music was finally off.
Holy shit she went in by herself!
I peaked out the window. The security door was left wide open. I didn't hear anything else. Well if it were me I'd want someone with me.
I opened my door and peaked my head out. No sound. Ah geez.
Well she wasn't screaming so that was a good sign.
I walked outside and stepped over to her door. The security door was wide open but her inside door was only open about half an inch. The light was on inside.
"Cheryl?" I called to the door.
"Yeah?" I heard her reply.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." She came out apologizing. She has no idea how the stereo turned on, but she had just gotten it and thought maybe it was on some sort of a timer on accident. She felt terrible. I was just surprised she just went on in as if she didn't think she'd find someone in there. Am I the only one who automatically assumes the worst in a situation like this? How else would your stereo turn on, blasting, without some crazy ex boyfriend breaking in and turning it on? Or a serial killer or just plain crazed maniac?
I also don't know how someone could break into one of these apartments without leaving significant damage either, so it had to have been someone with a key.
I still think someone went in there. She asked if anyone had been in there during the day. I don't know. I didn't really have a reason to pay attention. She said no one should be in there while she's gone. First off, that just seems weird. How would anyone get in there anyway? No one should be in my house when I'm gone either. Weird. Second, I don't know when she's there or not. I have no reason to make any sort of mental note about the opening and closing of her front door. It's much easier to note my heavily vibrating walls.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Sunday Farmers Market
I have lived here a year now and have just attended my first farmers market in the area. The city can be a hectic place for a little hermit like me, so I don't get out to explore much, but I'm always grateful when I do. So maybe I should get out more.
I'm not a walker. When I think about this, it surprises me somewhat. When I was a little girl my mother walked us all over San Diego, miles and miles. The only time we'd take the bus is if our arms were loaded down with shopping bags from the mall and we were faced with walking up the huge Texas St hill. I think I'm just too impatient to walk. It takes so long to get from one place to another that you might as well run, or bike, or drive. There are more efficient ways to get around.
When I run along the local bike path and see people walking together, drinking their lattes and catching up on the week's events, I think it looks pretty fun. More fun than running 12 miles. When I see people walking the sidewalk of a busy street, with a grocery bag in their hands, I assume they can't afford a car and must walk or take public transportation everywhere. Nobody chooses to walk as a form of transportation.
This morning I decided to go to the farmers market that's pretty much in my neighborhood. It's the closest one. It's 2.5 miles from my apartment-one way. That created a situation. I could bike there and it would be really quick. But what would I do with my expensive bike while I perused the market? I have a lock, but this baby was worth $2500 in its youth (nearly two years ago). I'm fairly careful with it.
I could drive, but it sounds like this is the most popular market around and parking is a hassle. Plus, being as my new life involves a lot of sitting (which I love-sitting is fabulous), I should take advantage of opportunities for a little exercise.
Walking 5 miles round trip seemed a little extreme, but I thought of all the walking I did as a kid....and all the running I do now, and figured I could handle it.
It is absolutely frigid out there.
As I approached the market, which was not quite open yet, I saw a man walking toward me with a bag in his hand that looked as if he had already been to the market. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he opened his arms as if to give me a hug. Maybe he thought I was someone else? He didn't look crazy. I stopped short so he wouldn't hug me but gave him a smile and said "Am I late?" (like for the market).
"No!" He said with a smile, and then continued, "I walk ten hours everyday! I can't sleep. You know, I just went through a sleep study and I was hooked up to all these wires, I felt like Frankenstein. Well I had to go to the bathroom, and you know what? The technician had fallen asleep on me!"
I laughed "Well he must've been exhausted!"
"Yeah! And I dance like Elvis." He gave me a little demonstration and then pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down. "Do I look like Elvis? With my flat top?"
"Yeah you do a little bit!" (Not really)
"Well, goodbye!" He said with a smile and held out his hand.
I shook it and told him to have a nice day and try to stay warm.
I continued to the market where they were getting all set up.
I had read about a very famous and delicious bread company (I guess it was a restaurant first and now sells bread) that sells out quickly and usually has a ridiculous line. The line forms well before it opens. It's a little expensive which is fine being as I don't need to develop a bread habit to replace the sugar habit I'm trying to ease up on. What I really need to develop is a salad habit.
I sampled an amazingly sweet fuji apple enroute to find the bread place and vowed to come back.
Found it! They were still getting set up, so I joined the line that was forming behind the canopy.
As we waited in line, I discussed my flip phone with strangers (always a conversation starter) and how it was my first time here. Turns out this place is opening up a retail location at the end of the month. The jam guy next door let us sample some of his jam while we waited.
Across the way is a cool lamp shop.
And a little bakery where apparently every Sunday, all chocolates are 10% off.
And here they are! The goods!
I got the Ham and Cheese Seeded Brioche and the Caramelized Onion Gruyère Tart. The brioche was my second breakfast.
So incredibly amazing! The bread was so soft and flavorful and it was stuffed with ham and cheese. I slowly strolled and looked at the other booths. I bought some of those delicious fuji apples, some amazing looking lettuces and a fresh bunch of dill (one of my very favorite herbs-love it!!).
I headed back home, still bitterly cold. I took the bike path back that gets me about halfway there and watched runners go by me in shorts with legs reddened by the cold. Runners are so crazy. What are we running from?
A couple of presumably homeless people stood by the creek, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of a can of what looked like bud-light. It was 10am. The lady called out to me asking if my new jacket worked- if it really kept me warm. I replied that it did and took mental note of her sweatshirt which was most likely not keeping her warm. "Bless your heart!" she called out, and I responded with "Have a great day!"
I finally made it home to my somewhat warm apartment (the heater needs to be fixed-the landlord is calling tomorrow) .
What's left of my spread (minus the brioche):
Now I'm going to take a hot bath and then make a nice fresh salad.
I'm not a walker. When I think about this, it surprises me somewhat. When I was a little girl my mother walked us all over San Diego, miles and miles. The only time we'd take the bus is if our arms were loaded down with shopping bags from the mall and we were faced with walking up the huge Texas St hill. I think I'm just too impatient to walk. It takes so long to get from one place to another that you might as well run, or bike, or drive. There are more efficient ways to get around.
When I run along the local bike path and see people walking together, drinking their lattes and catching up on the week's events, I think it looks pretty fun. More fun than running 12 miles. When I see people walking the sidewalk of a busy street, with a grocery bag in their hands, I assume they can't afford a car and must walk or take public transportation everywhere. Nobody chooses to walk as a form of transportation.
This morning I decided to go to the farmers market that's pretty much in my neighborhood. It's the closest one. It's 2.5 miles from my apartment-one way. That created a situation. I could bike there and it would be really quick. But what would I do with my expensive bike while I perused the market? I have a lock, but this baby was worth $2500 in its youth (nearly two years ago). I'm fairly careful with it.
I could drive, but it sounds like this is the most popular market around and parking is a hassle. Plus, being as my new life involves a lot of sitting (which I love-sitting is fabulous), I should take advantage of opportunities for a little exercise.
Walking 5 miles round trip seemed a little extreme, but I thought of all the walking I did as a kid....and all the running I do now, and figured I could handle it.
It is absolutely frigid out there.
As I approached the market, which was not quite open yet, I saw a man walking toward me with a bag in his hand that looked as if he had already been to the market. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he opened his arms as if to give me a hug. Maybe he thought I was someone else? He didn't look crazy. I stopped short so he wouldn't hug me but gave him a smile and said "Am I late?" (like for the market).
"No!" He said with a smile, and then continued, "I walk ten hours everyday! I can't sleep. You know, I just went through a sleep study and I was hooked up to all these wires, I felt like Frankenstein. Well I had to go to the bathroom, and you know what? The technician had fallen asleep on me!"
I laughed "Well he must've been exhausted!"
"Yeah! And I dance like Elvis." He gave me a little demonstration and then pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down. "Do I look like Elvis? With my flat top?"
"Yeah you do a little bit!" (Not really)
"Well, goodbye!" He said with a smile and held out his hand.
I shook it and told him to have a nice day and try to stay warm.
I continued to the market where they were getting all set up.
I had read about a very famous and delicious bread company (I guess it was a restaurant first and now sells bread) that sells out quickly and usually has a ridiculous line. The line forms well before it opens. It's a little expensive which is fine being as I don't need to develop a bread habit to replace the sugar habit I'm trying to ease up on. What I really need to develop is a salad habit.
I sampled an amazingly sweet fuji apple enroute to find the bread place and vowed to come back.
As we waited in line, I discussed my flip phone with strangers (always a conversation starter) and how it was my first time here. Turns out this place is opening up a retail location at the end of the month. The jam guy next door let us sample some of his jam while we waited.
Across the way is a cool lamp shop.
And here they are! The goods!
I got the Ham and Cheese Seeded Brioche and the Caramelized Onion Gruyère Tart. The brioche was my second breakfast.
I headed back home, still bitterly cold. I took the bike path back that gets me about halfway there and watched runners go by me in shorts with legs reddened by the cold. Runners are so crazy. What are we running from?
A couple of presumably homeless people stood by the creek, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of a can of what looked like bud-light. It was 10am. The lady called out to me asking if my new jacket worked- if it really kept me warm. I replied that it did and took mental note of her sweatshirt which was most likely not keeping her warm. "Bless your heart!" she called out, and I responded with "Have a great day!"
I finally made it home to my somewhat warm apartment (the heater needs to be fixed-the landlord is calling tomorrow) .
What's left of my spread (minus the brioche):
Now I'm going to take a hot bath and then make a nice fresh salad.
Friday, January 2, 2015
The Void
I had a dream the other night that I was staring up at the stars and could see the galaxies much like the pictures from outer space. I study and watch shows about science and contemplate black holes, worm holes, the flexibility of the space-time fabric, and wonder what's on the other side.
Trying to wrap my mind around the concept of time itself, my mind wanders to the faces of those I've lost and I'm maddened by the inability to grasp that I have lost them forever. I don't understand where they go and how it could be that my life that is defined so much by those who raised me, cared for me, loved me, could ever be without them.
One day they are just...gone. Gone is a word that demands an explanation-gone where? For how long? But just gone- by itself- is like staring into that mysterious black hole, longing to understand. Gone. In the most concrete and undeniable sense of the word.
And I think about how, one day, I will too go out into that void and it is both terrifying and not. Terrifying because this is what I know. My body is programmed to live at all costs-and it doesn't know what it is to simply shut down. Not terrifying- because that's what we do. We close our eyes and slip away and leave no clues as to our whereabouts. One day we are born, we experience this life for a time, and then, we are gone. And it's ok, it's natural.
Would life be so precious if we all lived forever?
Trying to wrap my mind around the concept of time itself, my mind wanders to the faces of those I've lost and I'm maddened by the inability to grasp that I have lost them forever. I don't understand where they go and how it could be that my life that is defined so much by those who raised me, cared for me, loved me, could ever be without them.
One day they are just...gone. Gone is a word that demands an explanation-gone where? For how long? But just gone- by itself- is like staring into that mysterious black hole, longing to understand. Gone. In the most concrete and undeniable sense of the word.
And I think about how, one day, I will too go out into that void and it is both terrifying and not. Terrifying because this is what I know. My body is programmed to live at all costs-and it doesn't know what it is to simply shut down. Not terrifying- because that's what we do. We close our eyes and slip away and leave no clues as to our whereabouts. One day we are born, we experience this life for a time, and then, we are gone. And it's ok, it's natural.
Would life be so precious if we all lived forever?
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