This weekend we were supposed to get a massive amount of rain. I forget what they said on the radio, but basically expect some urban flooding. The creeks and reservoirs would be fine because they're so low right now, but the streets would not be able to handle the deluge that was coming.
This is what I like about the prospect of being a meteorologist. You don't have to ever be right and you still get paid the same amount.
Anyway, so I was worried about the rain on my 15 miler. It did get a little misty and I steeled myself for the deluge...but it never materialized. It was fairly warm, around 60 and not very windy at all. Turned into a nice run.
I've been trying to slow my long runs down lately in order to keep my body from breaking down too much, but sometimes I have problems with that. Today I made a valiant effort at slowing down, but ran into a few issues along the way. First off, sub 8 minute miles feel fantastic to me at the start of the run. I love my stride, my cadence, and the way when I look down expecting my Garmin to say 4 miles, it says 5.2 and I think, Oh man, better Gu up!
Oh lovely GU. I have a love/hate relationship with GU. Number one, I know what it feels like to totally bonk- when your body says "That's it, we're done here". Providing your body with nourishment during endurance activities helps keep that at bay. Real food would be nice, but my inability to chew on pasta while running could lead to serious injury or death. However, squirting thick sugar gel into your mouth while running and then expecting your stomach to handle it is a lot to ask. Breathing with sticky gel in your mouth is tough. I've made it a rule to no longer attempt to do so while running uphill. And for the next 20 minutes, my stomach threatens to reject the mass invasion of sugar.
It's interesting to watch all the faces and actions of other runners and walkers while I'm doing a long run. You can tell where a runner is at in his run by his body language and the amount of desolation in his eyes. Some runners smile, nod, say good morning or wave. Others stare straight ahead or at the ground. In general, runners seem more likely to smile on a downhill than an uphill...completely immersed in their private battle.
After turning around and heading towards home, I passed by another girl running towards me. I gave her the best smile I could muster at the time (I was starting to fade myself due to running the first part too fast) and she tried to force a smile, but her eyes seemed so pleading and desperate. After having gone by her, I smiled even more. Lady, I can't save you from your run. I can't make your run any less miserable. I can't even make my own run less miserable.
I had not managed to slow my run by much. Near the end of the run, I let myself pick it up a little, as long as I promise to slow down on the last mile for a decent cool down. With about 5 miles to go, my body started to ache. My glutes tightened and my legs began to feel inflamed. Sometimes it's like I can feel the inflammation in the little tiny muscle fibers. I don't know if that's possible, but that's what I envision when I begin to feel that vague, rusty ache.
Alright Carrie, if you want to pick it up, now's the time. I opened up my stride a little and had a little chat with Agony, my good friend who occasionally joins me at the end of my long runs.
Just slow down, you're allowed to slow down you know. This is a long run. My watch beeped. 7:53. Geez, slow it down. At this point I always realize exactly why those other runners looked so defeated. I wonder what my face looked like as I forced a smile or "mornin" at each passing runner.
Beep- 7:55. Whatever, just finish this thing. 3 miles to go.
I turned right onto my familiar bridge. I've developed a little mantra when things get tough "Run easy" I repeat in my head until I relax and my stride becomes effortless. "Run easy" I breathed quietly, and tried to relax my stride and cadence. Find that effortless spot. I found it for maybe 10 seconds. "Run easy" I tried again. I wanted to stop, I wanted to cry, I didn't want to hurt anymore and I got this fabulous idea in my head to invent liquid tylenol for adults.
Beep- 7:53. Let loose, one more mile before your cool down mile. I opened up my stride and tried to put my head somewhere else. Anywhere but here. The concrete freeways around me disappeared. The creek on my left disappeared. The chain link fence lining the path disappeared. I let my eyes relax and get absorbed into the pavement in front of me, dodging people, dogs and bikes. I pushed past a runner taking up half the path. I could see the stonework of the light-rail path. Almost to the road.
Beep- 7:35. Geezo. I laughed and shook my head. So much for slowing down my long runs. The problem is that I know the faster I go the sooner it's over. When I just want to be done, I pick it up, even when I'm suffering the pain of having run the first half too fast.
I turned right up the ramp to the street and made myself slow down. It didn't feel any better than running faster and it pained me to think I was only delaying getting to stop and walk.
When I was signing up for my first marathon, the San Diego Rock and Roll Marathon, so many years ago, I joined a running club that was raising money for charity. Our coach talked to us about running a marathon. He said "People run marathons because it feels so good to stop". That came into my head at mile 13 today when all I wanted to do was stop. But you don't stop, because you're not there yet. You're not home and home is where you get to stop. Home is where the food is. I don't think I'd ever say I decided to run a marathon just so I could experience that feeling when you can finally stop running, but I do intimately know that feeling...that overwhelming need to just stop running. And I've continued on, not out of some mental toughness or deep drive, but out of desperation to just get home.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Friday, February 7, 2014
The Baby In My Closet
It's Friday once again! On Tuesday I felt like Friday would never arrive but this morning on the way to class I was shocked that it was already Friday again. Friday's are nice: gym in the morning, Pre-Calc and then home.
Last night reminded me of this post that I've been thinking of since the first week I moved in. Living in an apartment complex doesn't give you a ton of privacy and you hear a lot of what goes on next door or even the next apartment over. I've made a mental diagram of my neighbor's apartment based on the sounds I can hear at different times of the day.
One night I opened my closet door to hang up some clothes, and it was like opening a door to another dimension (much like The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe). In this other dimension was a baby crying!
Whoa. I closed the door and the sound stopped. I opened it and there it was again. A baby crying loudly. I looked around for a vent or something that would help carry the sound from the neighbor's apartment into my closet. My closet is very small, if there were a vent (or a baby) in there, I would know it. Close the door again- baby disappears.
At other times, I can hear voices through my bedroom wall. There's a significant sized area "missing" between my closet and my bathroom and I've often wondered what's in there and why that space is not filled with more of my apartment. It's hard to describe. But the way I figure, the neighbor's bedroom must be wedged between my bedroom (and closet) and my bathroom, and when I walk the L-shape path between my bedroom and bathroom, I'm essentially walking around my neighbor's bedroom. My bedroom must share a wall with their living room.
So every once in awhile, when I open my closet door, I find a baby in there again- crying. That door stays closed unless I need to get in there. God forbid the thing get out.
Last night reminded me of this post that I've been thinking of since the first week I moved in. Living in an apartment complex doesn't give you a ton of privacy and you hear a lot of what goes on next door or even the next apartment over. I've made a mental diagram of my neighbor's apartment based on the sounds I can hear at different times of the day.
One night I opened my closet door to hang up some clothes, and it was like opening a door to another dimension (much like The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe). In this other dimension was a baby crying!
Whoa. I closed the door and the sound stopped. I opened it and there it was again. A baby crying loudly. I looked around for a vent or something that would help carry the sound from the neighbor's apartment into my closet. My closet is very small, if there were a vent (or a baby) in there, I would know it. Close the door again- baby disappears.
At other times, I can hear voices through my bedroom wall. There's a significant sized area "missing" between my closet and my bathroom and I've often wondered what's in there and why that space is not filled with more of my apartment. It's hard to describe. But the way I figure, the neighbor's bedroom must be wedged between my bedroom (and closet) and my bathroom, and when I walk the L-shape path between my bedroom and bathroom, I'm essentially walking around my neighbor's bedroom. My bedroom must share a wall with their living room.
So every once in awhile, when I open my closet door, I find a baby in there again- crying. That door stays closed unless I need to get in there. God forbid the thing get out.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
The Roof!
Wednesday is my long day at school. All the other days are very short. On Wednesdays I get to school at 7 am to go to the gym (and secure some parking) and leave myself enough time to change into normal clothes, maybe check my email, and head to Pre-Calculus. After Pre-Calculus, I walk back to Duncan Hall for my class on Weather and Climate. After that I've got a 3 hour break to study, work or swim and then a GIS lecture until 5:45 pm.
It was a nice day, despite the fact that we've got some ugly (although much needed) weather coming in starting tomorrow. And since I finally have keys to the building, grad room, staff elevator and the lab, I decided I would get the pics up of our rooftop lab. Here it is:
It's not much to look at, but the fact that it is on the roof is the nice part. The Diablo Moutain Range is off to the left. This is on top of the eighth floor (which is our lab).It's also a good place for sunning yourself, studying, or just taking a break. It's only accessible to our lab people, so it's ok if I lay up there in a bikini. Just kidding. That would be weird. Anyway, there's a bunch of instruments, cameras and weird stuff up there that I only partly understand at this point. The SJSU Weather Center runs off the data these machines provide and there is a real-time camera on the "Current Weather Conditions" link so you can see if it's sunny enough to make the trip to the roof worth while. It also allows you to see the air quality/ visibility going on. And if it's night time. Because sometimes as a grad student, it's hard to tell.
Here's a view of campus from the roof. The tall tree in the middle is a dying Redwood that someone thought would be clever to plant in an arid valley. You can also see something-or-other-hall off to the right which was in a photo a week back that I posted.
Downtown San Jose...which, in case you didn't know, is where SJSU is located.
Storm front coming in. Those are the Santa Cruz Mountains. That range is what separates me from my frigid surf spot.
It was a nice day, despite the fact that we've got some ugly (although much needed) weather coming in starting tomorrow. And since I finally have keys to the building, grad room, staff elevator and the lab, I decided I would get the pics up of our rooftop lab. Here it is:
Here's a view of campus from the roof. The tall tree in the middle is a dying Redwood that someone thought would be clever to plant in an arid valley. You can also see something-or-other-hall off to the right which was in a photo a week back that I posted.
Which reminds me. Every time I go surf (it's been a week or two...classes, rain, etc...you can't surf in CA after a rain...storm run-off can make you sick) up here, I envision the photos I've seen of people surfing in the arctic. They really do, I swear. I don't know why, because they're crazy.
This photo was taken from nothingmajor.com.
Yes, that is a surfer standing on a slab of ice in the arctic, about to paddle out. This is how I feel as I'm getting ready to surf up here. It is so cold!
A link to that crazy article is HERE
Of all the crazy things people do, this one just dumbfounds me.
If ever I were surrounded by icebergs, I just don't think it would occur to me to jump in with my surfboard and have a morning session.
The Northern (or Southern) Lights are definitely on my list of things to see in my lifetime, but I think when I do I will be snuggled into several layers of fur and seal skin, with a cup of hot chocolate nestled into my mittens.
By the way, I'm not procrastinating my studying and homework, I've just sworn off any real work tonight due to my long day.
Gaining Celebrity Status
This whole Boston thing has gotten out of hand. It's amazing how people view this event. I got here accidentally, I was coerced!
There are people who really enjoy marathons (Debbie), and then there are people who do marathons because they are talked into it by their friends who enjoy marathons.
The moment I crossed the finish line in my Boston-qualifying marathon, my soul completely crumbled. I could really have cared less if I qualified, it never even occurred to me that I could qualify for Boston because only fast people qualify for Boston. I had never given it a moment's thought, because running Boston would first mean training to qualify and then training AGAIN to run the damn thing. As I crossed that finish line, the only thing I could think was At least I have another 10 years before I have to do that again. Debbie and I have a pact.
So then word got around and everyone was excited about me qualifying for Boston...except me. Because I still hurt. My body hurt in places I had never felt before and my will to be a runner was completely squashed. Because running sucks. Don't deny it people, it does. You know it and I know it. Don't think for a second that because I qualified for Boston, I am unaware that running sucks. Nope, I'm aware.
I'm even hyper-aware, especially now when we're expecting almost an inch of rain tomorrow and I'm scheduled for a 7 miler. It's gonna be a fast one, let me tell you. But on Sunday I'm running 15 miles...and it's going to rain. I will dress more appropriately however.
Anyway, my main point is that people get the wrong idea about Boston, and marathons in general. You don't have to be an amazing athlete to complete a marathon. Anyone can finish a marathon, I swear this is true. You don't have to be fast, you don't have to be skinny....but you do have to have an indomitable will. Because marathons suck.
In one of my classes, we had an assignment to write a profile of ourselves. I didn't have much to say except that I'm a meteorology grad student working in the Fire Weather Research Lab, I enjoy surfing, swimming, riding my bike, and I'm training for the Boston Marathon.
Because yes, after accepting that I was indeed going to run it, it has become a source of pride for me as well as an explanation for why I would really like it not to rain tomorrow or Sunday (or Saturday for that mater because I was going to do another ride).
When we were introducing ourselves to the rest of the class on the first day, the teacher said "Oh wait, are you the one who qualified for Boston?" Wow. Weird.
Today, during a short break, one girl came up and asked if I was the one who qualified for Boston. She asked about my training runs and wanted to know how many miles I run a day. Well, get this people, I don't run every day. In fact, I only run three times per week. I don't want to hear it. So as we got back into class I was finishing up my mileage explanation, and a couple other girls heard us talking.
One girl asked "What's your favorite marathon to run?"
I laughed. I was stumped. Because see, I don't really like running marathons. I guess on some level I do, but I think I more like that I can. And can do it well. I don't know. They really are miserable though. Not fun. I don't see why so many people think running marathons is so fun. And the day before the marathon when you're walking through the expo and it finally hits you what you're about to do, it makes you sick to your stomach...you can even confirm that with Debbie. And I think Corey was there to witness our instant sickness.
I tried explaining to the girls that I really don't like to run marathons....and I've only done three. And as a matter of fact, after Boston, I'm switching to Triathlons.
"Have you run the New York Marathon?" The girl asked.
"No, I haven't."
"Don't you have to run the NY to get into Boston? I thought you had to run some more prestigious marathons before Boston. I heard that Boston is super selective."
Err..well....I tried to explain that one, but the questions and comments started firing from all directions.
"You should do the San Jose marathon, they have one, it's fun!" (See what I mean)
"Have you done the San Francisco one? You should do it. It's for women only and you get a necklace. It's from Tiffany's."
I told them which marathons I've run.
"Is the San Diego Rock and Roll like the San Jose Rock and Roll?"
"Have you done Big Sur? My mom's done it and says it's really hilly but it's super beautiful".
I personally think getting a necklace from Tiffany's as race swag would be awesome...so I actually may look into that. I'm sorry, but that trumps a t-shirt by far. I think the entry fees might be a little steeper though.
Pretty soon a good chunk of the class was turning around and asking questions and talking about Tiffany's necklaces, marathons and crazy runners. Holy cow. There is a lot of hoopla surrounding the Boston Marathon. I'm definitely excited to be doing it. Not long after I finally gave in to the idea, I bought a book describing last year's Boston. The author was following people leading up to it, in order to write a book about it, and then covered a lot of the aspects of marathon running that spectators don't see. It got me pretty pumped up for it.
But now of course, is time for the not-glamorous stage of training for it. It's misery defined. What I really look forward to, after the marathon is behind me, is getting my toe looked at. There's something going on down there.
There are people who really enjoy marathons (Debbie), and then there are people who do marathons because they are talked into it by their friends who enjoy marathons.
The moment I crossed the finish line in my Boston-qualifying marathon, my soul completely crumbled. I could really have cared less if I qualified, it never even occurred to me that I could qualify for Boston because only fast people qualify for Boston. I had never given it a moment's thought, because running Boston would first mean training to qualify and then training AGAIN to run the damn thing. As I crossed that finish line, the only thing I could think was At least I have another 10 years before I have to do that again. Debbie and I have a pact.
So then word got around and everyone was excited about me qualifying for Boston...except me. Because I still hurt. My body hurt in places I had never felt before and my will to be a runner was completely squashed. Because running sucks. Don't deny it people, it does. You know it and I know it. Don't think for a second that because I qualified for Boston, I am unaware that running sucks. Nope, I'm aware.
I'm even hyper-aware, especially now when we're expecting almost an inch of rain tomorrow and I'm scheduled for a 7 miler. It's gonna be a fast one, let me tell you. But on Sunday I'm running 15 miles...and it's going to rain. I will dress more appropriately however.
Anyway, my main point is that people get the wrong idea about Boston, and marathons in general. You don't have to be an amazing athlete to complete a marathon. Anyone can finish a marathon, I swear this is true. You don't have to be fast, you don't have to be skinny....but you do have to have an indomitable will. Because marathons suck.
In one of my classes, we had an assignment to write a profile of ourselves. I didn't have much to say except that I'm a meteorology grad student working in the Fire Weather Research Lab, I enjoy surfing, swimming, riding my bike, and I'm training for the Boston Marathon.
Because yes, after accepting that I was indeed going to run it, it has become a source of pride for me as well as an explanation for why I would really like it not to rain tomorrow or Sunday (or Saturday for that mater because I was going to do another ride).
When we were introducing ourselves to the rest of the class on the first day, the teacher said "Oh wait, are you the one who qualified for Boston?" Wow. Weird.
Today, during a short break, one girl came up and asked if I was the one who qualified for Boston. She asked about my training runs and wanted to know how many miles I run a day. Well, get this people, I don't run every day. In fact, I only run three times per week. I don't want to hear it. So as we got back into class I was finishing up my mileage explanation, and a couple other girls heard us talking.
One girl asked "What's your favorite marathon to run?"
I laughed. I was stumped. Because see, I don't really like running marathons. I guess on some level I do, but I think I more like that I can. And can do it well. I don't know. They really are miserable though. Not fun. I don't see why so many people think running marathons is so fun. And the day before the marathon when you're walking through the expo and it finally hits you what you're about to do, it makes you sick to your stomach...you can even confirm that with Debbie. And I think Corey was there to witness our instant sickness.
I tried explaining to the girls that I really don't like to run marathons....and I've only done three. And as a matter of fact, after Boston, I'm switching to Triathlons.
"Have you run the New York Marathon?" The girl asked.
"No, I haven't."
"Don't you have to run the NY to get into Boston? I thought you had to run some more prestigious marathons before Boston. I heard that Boston is super selective."
Err..well....I tried to explain that one, but the questions and comments started firing from all directions.
"You should do the San Jose marathon, they have one, it's fun!" (See what I mean)
"Have you done the San Francisco one? You should do it. It's for women only and you get a necklace. It's from Tiffany's."
I told them which marathons I've run.
"Is the San Diego Rock and Roll like the San Jose Rock and Roll?"
"Have you done Big Sur? My mom's done it and says it's really hilly but it's super beautiful".
I personally think getting a necklace from Tiffany's as race swag would be awesome...so I actually may look into that. I'm sorry, but that trumps a t-shirt by far. I think the entry fees might be a little steeper though.
Pretty soon a good chunk of the class was turning around and asking questions and talking about Tiffany's necklaces, marathons and crazy runners. Holy cow. There is a lot of hoopla surrounding the Boston Marathon. I'm definitely excited to be doing it. Not long after I finally gave in to the idea, I bought a book describing last year's Boston. The author was following people leading up to it, in order to write a book about it, and then covered a lot of the aspects of marathon running that spectators don't see. It got me pretty pumped up for it.
But now of course, is time for the not-glamorous stage of training for it. It's misery defined. What I really look forward to, after the marathon is behind me, is getting my toe looked at. There's something going on down there.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Phantom Glass
That's ok. Shit hurts sometimes and you just deal. Like how my elbow feels like there's glass embedded in it from yesterdays fall on my bike. There's no open wound, therefore no glass- much like you. Not really there, never was, but it hurts nonetheless. You are the phantom glass in my elbow.
Thank you.
Thank you.
14 miler-In the rain.
We're in a significant drought and the only time we get a significant amount of rain is when I've got a 14 mile long run to do. The weather this morning said there was a 60% chance of rain. I had some important decisions to make regarding my attire.
Jen told me "Wear a hat". I had to laugh. It's perfect advice really, but I was concerned about my entire body, not just my face. But I did wear a hat.
First thing in the morning it was 47 degrees, so I figured shorts were a good call, but would need to be more particular with the clothes for my upper body. It couldn't possibly rain hard enough to warrant a full on rain jacket, and that would make me too hot, so that was out. I settled on a water "resistant" light windbreaker. I didn't want to wear a long sleeve under it, because then I would get warm enough to take the jacket off, leaving me exposed to the rain. So I settled on a sleeveless top.
Somewhere in there I also decided I was not wearing gloves. I truly do not understand how this happens so often. I have Raynauds Syndrome so not only does my entire body get cold very easily, but the blood vessels in my wrists and legs spasm and shunt blood away from my hands and feet so that I get a funky discoloration, numbness and iciness in my fingers and toes. Here's some pictures of Raynauds...not mine since I can't operate a camera when having an issue with it.
It's pretty interesting to see, but not so funny to experience. All that whiteness is numb. And it happens real quick, it's not like frostbite or frostnip but it can increase your chances of getting it because you have less blood flow to your little digits.Wearing gloves doesn't prevent it, but it lessens it I guess. Today gloves would have been a good call.
When I left the house it had already started to rain. It was also cold and windy, so I picked up the pace more than I wanted because I just had to warm up. As I made it to the running trail (a mile from my place) some older guys looked up and watched me run down the ramp to the trail. I turned in their direction and it didn't take long for me to over take them.
"You're making us look bad!" One of them exclaimed as I started to pass them up.
"I gotta get warmed up, so that I can slow down!" I shouted back.
"Yeah, that's the part we're at...the slowing down part. How far you goin'?"
"14."
"Nice, good for you! We'll see you when you turn around."
"How far are you guys going?"
"16"
"Nice! That's awesome! See you guys soon!" And I took off, struggling to get the feeling back in my hands.
I was pretty surprised to see as many people out there as I did. The rain was coming down sideways and the wind made it feel frigid. Every time my Garmin GPS beeped, I looked down and saw I was running too fast, but it was so cold...I figured I'd warm up eventually and could slow it down again.
I ran along the creek trail, dodging people, dogs and ducks. I ran past the casting ponds and Vasona Lake. I ran past the cute little play train tracks that we rode past yesterday on our bike ride. Finally I hit 7 miles, ran another tenth and then turned around to head home. My body had warmed up after 4 miles and I had relaxed and slowed my pace, but now I was cold again. My hands had turned a bright red and were numb. I was trying to stave off the misery. I still had a ways to go.
Back at Vasona Lake, I saw the two guys from the beginning. I smiled as they came at me.
"Hey! You turned around too soon!" One yelled.
"No way! I made it all the way to Los Gatos!" I yelled.
"You didn't slow down!"
I laughed. "I did slow down! See you guys!" And off I went.
I broke out of the trees and became exposed to a harsh wind and driving rain. A guy in a grey sweatshirt came up on my heels. I turned to the sound of shoes behind me, and he came around and passed. I kept my pace even, making sure I didn't get caught up in his pace. He pulled ahead.
Around this time I was supposed to take a second GU (sugar gel) but my hands were so numb and I was so miserable that I didn't even want to deal with it.
By mile 9 my right wrist was so numb I could hardly hold my water bottle. I was incapable of squeezing the bottle with that hand at this point, since it was so cold and numb, so when I needed a drink, I switched it to my left hand. I tried sticking my hands in my pockets...one at a time since I had the water bottle, but it didn't help much. That right hand, wrist and arm was especially bad. They were blotchy and bright red. I saw the sleeve of my jacket was drenched and could see my skin underneath. There's your problem.
The guy in the grey sweatshirt slowed and I kept coming up behind him. We held the same pace together until he went straight towards Campbell Park, and I took a right over the bridge.
My hands were incapable of handling anything at this point and I gave up trying to drink water. 3 more miles.
The gusts of wind picked up and I couldn't tell if the water in my eyes was from the wind or if I had finally succumbed to despair. I figured no one else could tell either so I let them water. I tried to open and close my hands but they hardly cooperated.
I passed the bridge to Campbell Park. This is about to be the longest two miles of your life. I wondered if I was in this much agony during the last two miles of my last marathon. Logic tells me yes, but at that point in my run I decided on no.
I went under my street and turned up the ramp to the road. Relax, a mile is still a long way to go.
I kept envisioning how it would feel to jump in a hot shower. I wondered how I was going to fish my key out of the little pocket in my shorts and if I'd even be able to get my clothes off to get in the shower. I figured I could either jump in the shower with all my clothes on and take them off as I got warm, or I could warm my hands in the sink first until I could manage to unzip my jacket. This is pathetic.
I thought about how I would need calorie replenishment right away and decided I could shake up a quick protein shake.
My watch beeped a couple blocks from my house and I stopped running. I thought I would continue to jog until I got there, but I was tired and just wanted to stop. I made it to my apartment and trudged up the stairs. I stuck my hand into the little pocket of my shorts until I felt a small piece of metal. Very slowly and cautiously, I was able to work the key into the lock and get inside.
It was significantly warmer inside. I considered taking off my shoes but I knew that would be pretty much impossible at this point. I couldn't believe how numb my right wrist felt. I took off my GPS, my wet hat, and managed to get my drenched jacket off. I went to the kitchen sink and stuck my arms under the faucet, careful not to make it too hot.
My hands were red and swollen, and my wrist was swollen and slightly purple. It looked like I had banged it on something. I tried to remember how that happened, but couldn't come up with anything (other than falling off my bike yesterday). As my hands thawed, they changed color several times and hurt like crazy. My wrist began to feel like I broke it. I cried for real. It wasn't the rain this time.
When I could finally move my hands enough, I stripped down and jumped in a hot shower. I wasn't even hungry. I thought it funny how the body knows what's important and what can wait. Usually when I finish a long run, my body tells me that food cannot wait and I must take in a ton of calories NOW. Didn't even cross my mind this time. As I stood in the shower, I marveled that I was not the slightest bit hungry.
After about 20 minutes in the shower, I got out and got warm and dressed. I was suddenly starving. There you go. I was going to be ok. The swelling in my hands were gone and my hands and wrist were back to a normal color.
I think I'll try to be a little wiser about my clothing selection next time.
Jen told me "Wear a hat". I had to laugh. It's perfect advice really, but I was concerned about my entire body, not just my face. But I did wear a hat.
First thing in the morning it was 47 degrees, so I figured shorts were a good call, but would need to be more particular with the clothes for my upper body. It couldn't possibly rain hard enough to warrant a full on rain jacket, and that would make me too hot, so that was out. I settled on a water "resistant" light windbreaker. I didn't want to wear a long sleeve under it, because then I would get warm enough to take the jacket off, leaving me exposed to the rain. So I settled on a sleeveless top.
Somewhere in there I also decided I was not wearing gloves. I truly do not understand how this happens so often. I have Raynauds Syndrome so not only does my entire body get cold very easily, but the blood vessels in my wrists and legs spasm and shunt blood away from my hands and feet so that I get a funky discoloration, numbness and iciness in my fingers and toes. Here's some pictures of Raynauds...not mine since I can't operate a camera when having an issue with it.
When I left the house it had already started to rain. It was also cold and windy, so I picked up the pace more than I wanted because I just had to warm up. As I made it to the running trail (a mile from my place) some older guys looked up and watched me run down the ramp to the trail. I turned in their direction and it didn't take long for me to over take them.
"You're making us look bad!" One of them exclaimed as I started to pass them up.
"I gotta get warmed up, so that I can slow down!" I shouted back.
"Yeah, that's the part we're at...the slowing down part. How far you goin'?"
"14."
"Nice, good for you! We'll see you when you turn around."
"How far are you guys going?"
"16"
"Nice! That's awesome! See you guys soon!" And I took off, struggling to get the feeling back in my hands.
I was pretty surprised to see as many people out there as I did. The rain was coming down sideways and the wind made it feel frigid. Every time my Garmin GPS beeped, I looked down and saw I was running too fast, but it was so cold...I figured I'd warm up eventually and could slow it down again.
I ran along the creek trail, dodging people, dogs and ducks. I ran past the casting ponds and Vasona Lake. I ran past the cute little play train tracks that we rode past yesterday on our bike ride. Finally I hit 7 miles, ran another tenth and then turned around to head home. My body had warmed up after 4 miles and I had relaxed and slowed my pace, but now I was cold again. My hands had turned a bright red and were numb. I was trying to stave off the misery. I still had a ways to go.
Back at Vasona Lake, I saw the two guys from the beginning. I smiled as they came at me.
"Hey! You turned around too soon!" One yelled.
"No way! I made it all the way to Los Gatos!" I yelled.
"You didn't slow down!"
I laughed. "I did slow down! See you guys!" And off I went.
I broke out of the trees and became exposed to a harsh wind and driving rain. A guy in a grey sweatshirt came up on my heels. I turned to the sound of shoes behind me, and he came around and passed. I kept my pace even, making sure I didn't get caught up in his pace. He pulled ahead.
Around this time I was supposed to take a second GU (sugar gel) but my hands were so numb and I was so miserable that I didn't even want to deal with it.
By mile 9 my right wrist was so numb I could hardly hold my water bottle. I was incapable of squeezing the bottle with that hand at this point, since it was so cold and numb, so when I needed a drink, I switched it to my left hand. I tried sticking my hands in my pockets...one at a time since I had the water bottle, but it didn't help much. That right hand, wrist and arm was especially bad. They were blotchy and bright red. I saw the sleeve of my jacket was drenched and could see my skin underneath. There's your problem.
The guy in the grey sweatshirt slowed and I kept coming up behind him. We held the same pace together until he went straight towards Campbell Park, and I took a right over the bridge.
My hands were incapable of handling anything at this point and I gave up trying to drink water. 3 more miles.
The gusts of wind picked up and I couldn't tell if the water in my eyes was from the wind or if I had finally succumbed to despair. I figured no one else could tell either so I let them water. I tried to open and close my hands but they hardly cooperated.
I passed the bridge to Campbell Park. This is about to be the longest two miles of your life. I wondered if I was in this much agony during the last two miles of my last marathon. Logic tells me yes, but at that point in my run I decided on no.
I went under my street and turned up the ramp to the road. Relax, a mile is still a long way to go.
I kept envisioning how it would feel to jump in a hot shower. I wondered how I was going to fish my key out of the little pocket in my shorts and if I'd even be able to get my clothes off to get in the shower. I figured I could either jump in the shower with all my clothes on and take them off as I got warm, or I could warm my hands in the sink first until I could manage to unzip my jacket. This is pathetic.
I thought about how I would need calorie replenishment right away and decided I could shake up a quick protein shake.
My watch beeped a couple blocks from my house and I stopped running. I thought I would continue to jog until I got there, but I was tired and just wanted to stop. I made it to my apartment and trudged up the stairs. I stuck my hand into the little pocket of my shorts until I felt a small piece of metal. Very slowly and cautiously, I was able to work the key into the lock and get inside.
It was significantly warmer inside. I considered taking off my shoes but I knew that would be pretty much impossible at this point. I couldn't believe how numb my right wrist felt. I took off my GPS, my wet hat, and managed to get my drenched jacket off. I went to the kitchen sink and stuck my arms under the faucet, careful not to make it too hot.
My hands were red and swollen, and my wrist was swollen and slightly purple. It looked like I had banged it on something. I tried to remember how that happened, but couldn't come up with anything (other than falling off my bike yesterday). As my hands thawed, they changed color several times and hurt like crazy. My wrist began to feel like I broke it. I cried for real. It wasn't the rain this time.
When I could finally move my hands enough, I stripped down and jumped in a hot shower. I wasn't even hungry. I thought it funny how the body knows what's important and what can wait. Usually when I finish a long run, my body tells me that food cannot wait and I must take in a ton of calories NOW. Didn't even cross my mind this time. As I stood in the shower, I marveled that I was not the slightest bit hungry.
After about 20 minutes in the shower, I got out and got warm and dressed. I was suddenly starving. There you go. I was going to be ok. The swelling in my hands were gone and my hands and wrist were back to a normal color.
I think I'll try to be a little wiser about my clothing selection next time.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
The Breakfast Ride!
Today was my second ride with the Almaden Cycle Touring Club and it was also my second "Grizzly". Grizzly Bears are relatively flat rides that either cover a special place, special event or date, or a traditional ride. After 10 different Grizzlies, you earn a Grizzly Bear patch! That's what I'm aiming for. There are also Billy Goats and Mountain Goats. Billy Goats being the hilly rides and Mountain Goats are of course the mountain bike rides.
Today's ride was traditional and leisurely, and boy was it different than last week's ride which was a moderate pace. The technical ability of the riders was also very different and required an adjustment on my part as well. Last week's group was much more advanced and everyone was clipped into their pedals, signalling, and had great bike handling skills. I would say with that group my handling skills were at the low end, so I had to ride more aggressively and with much more confidence.
Today the group was much less technical, most of them were not clipped in, and when we'd hit a hill, there were dangerous pile-ups. It really required me to focus on my handling, which after taking another spill due to stopping and leaning to the side I was still clipped in on (yep, again...3rd time now), it made me very anxious and cautious. And as it turns out, the slower you go, the more challenging it is to control your bike. There was a girl about my age there who does triathlons and century rides, so we were talking about how this really required us to practice our bike handling.
The Breakfast Ride is the longest standing club ride at ACTC. Our leader today told us that it started out as a way to deliver the newsletter that they send out. They'd make their deliveries and then stop for breakfast. Now newsletters are either mailed or emailed, but on the first Saturday of every month, this ride goes on.
We started out on a paved bicycle/jogging path and then went out into the streets. About halfway we stopped at Lou's in Los Gatos, where of course, I unclipped my left foot and went over to the right. Nearly on top of our triathlete lady. She proclaimed that that was awesome and fabulous, and the other ladies were just thrilled that I, being one of the more advanced in the group, was the one to fall over and make a fool of herself. Of course I was only one of two clipped in.
One of the guys who had been there before asked to split a breakfast with someone, but you guys know how I eat, I wasn't sharing a plate. I ordered the Apricot French Toast and some coffee. Our waitress struggled with putting some napkins under our table to keep it from rocking, while I meanwhile tried to snag one from her to stop the bleeding on my knee. Being satisfied with the table, she grabbed the remaining napkins and walked off.
"Oh, excuse me ma'am, can I have one of those?"
She was gone. Hmmm. I looked at my knee and watched the dark red blood travel a little further down. No napkins...oh well, when she comes back.
Finally she came back with more napkins and I got cleaned up. The food came and it was some pretty hefty helpings.
But of course I ate every last crumb of my french toast.
Then we headed back home, taking a loop around and riding the bike trail back to the park where we started.
I have a 14 mile run tomorrow, so today was a good break day. I probably won't do too many of these at the leisurely pace today's was, as it presents a whole different world of challenges, but there's a slew of different rides, actually every day.
Gotta get that Grizzly patch!!
Today's ride was traditional and leisurely, and boy was it different than last week's ride which was a moderate pace. The technical ability of the riders was also very different and required an adjustment on my part as well. Last week's group was much more advanced and everyone was clipped into their pedals, signalling, and had great bike handling skills. I would say with that group my handling skills were at the low end, so I had to ride more aggressively and with much more confidence.
Today the group was much less technical, most of them were not clipped in, and when we'd hit a hill, there were dangerous pile-ups. It really required me to focus on my handling, which after taking another spill due to stopping and leaning to the side I was still clipped in on (yep, again...3rd time now), it made me very anxious and cautious. And as it turns out, the slower you go, the more challenging it is to control your bike. There was a girl about my age there who does triathlons and century rides, so we were talking about how this really required us to practice our bike handling.
The Breakfast Ride is the longest standing club ride at ACTC. Our leader today told us that it started out as a way to deliver the newsletter that they send out. They'd make their deliveries and then stop for breakfast. Now newsletters are either mailed or emailed, but on the first Saturday of every month, this ride goes on.
We started out on a paved bicycle/jogging path and then went out into the streets. About halfway we stopped at Lou's in Los Gatos, where of course, I unclipped my left foot and went over to the right. Nearly on top of our triathlete lady. She proclaimed that that was awesome and fabulous, and the other ladies were just thrilled that I, being one of the more advanced in the group, was the one to fall over and make a fool of herself. Of course I was only one of two clipped in.
One of the guys who had been there before asked to split a breakfast with someone, but you guys know how I eat, I wasn't sharing a plate. I ordered the Apricot French Toast and some coffee. Our waitress struggled with putting some napkins under our table to keep it from rocking, while I meanwhile tried to snag one from her to stop the bleeding on my knee. Being satisfied with the table, she grabbed the remaining napkins and walked off.
"Oh, excuse me ma'am, can I have one of those?"
She was gone. Hmmm. I looked at my knee and watched the dark red blood travel a little further down. No napkins...oh well, when she comes back.
Finally she came back with more napkins and I got cleaned up. The food came and it was some pretty hefty helpings.
Then we headed back home, taking a loop around and riding the bike trail back to the park where we started.
There's Ruby in action. It's a little chilly out there, but at least it had warmed up by this point. Not enough to take my jacket off. I'm also proud to say you can see a somewhat impressive quad muscle going on there. I think you can click on the image to enlarge it, in case you can't tell ;-) Go ahead, take a closer look. Haha! Kidding.
I have a 14 mile run tomorrow, so today was a good break day. I probably won't do too many of these at the leisurely pace today's was, as it presents a whole different world of challenges, but there's a slew of different rides, actually every day.
Gotta get that Grizzly patch!!
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