Rain!

It's rained here for 4 days straight. That's 4 days of continuous, every minute, 24/7 rain of varying intensity. If you saw the national news of the rain here in California where they showed someone in one of those fold out row boats, that was a video taken in the little town just 20 miles or so north of my home. 2 nearby towns have had evacuation notices. I am fortunately high and dry with no water in my home but I'm experiencing a serious case of cabin fever. I'm stuck on the treadmill until the rain stops. It's currently not raining but that won't last long enough for me to get in even a short run.

Since I have to use the treadmill (which I hate with the white hot passion of a thousand suns) I decided to run shorter distances, but bump up the intensity. I run hard for 1/4 mile, then recover, then another 1/4 mile sprint for 4 miles. If I'm feeling really frisky, I'll finish up with a quick 1 mile walk with the incline bumped up as high as my treadmill will go-12%. We'll see if this translates to better running out doors when I'm finally able to get in a real run.

Pub Night

I'm not a bar hopping kind of person. I don't feel comfortable in a bar and I think I've figured out why-but that's for another post. This is about a most interesting night in a a local Irish style pub when I did agree to meet some friends for drinks after a local parade. We got to the pub first (which I hate doing-again, another post...) so we hung around a bit and watched the parade participants wander in. The first group there was the belly dancers. A nice enough bunch of ladies, dressed in the usual belly dancing attire, who would occasionally break into a little dancing. Then our friends showed up, who happen to be a bagpipe band, complete with drums. So now we had belly dancers mixing with kilt clad pipers and drummers and the dancing got really interesting. I thought this was about as odd as it would get for the night until the roller derby girls showed up-yes they were in their derby costumes, circa 1950's, and yes they were on skates, with nicknames emblazoned across their rear ends like "Thunderwear" and "Black Bomber". So now we had belly dancers and roller derby queens cheering on the pipers who needed no encouragement whatsoever to play for the crowd. It was a very odd, very entertaining night.

Please Say Yes

I saw the doctor Friday and the only question I had for him was "Can I run?". And he said yes, I can start running again.

I hit the road first thing this morning. I felt awkward and clumsy for the first mile but I didn't care-I was running. I went out without a Garmin or heart rate strap or music; I just wanted to run again. By mile 2 I felt normal and relaxed. I managed an easy, slow 3 miles and I'm ok with that; it's been almost a month since my last run and I'm fine with building up a nice base over the days to come.

I decided that if my goal is to be a lifetime runner, then an occasional set back won't matter-it's only the big picture that counts, and in that big picture I'll be 80 years old and still out there knocking out the miles.

I'm on the "no running" list

I have not posted in some time now because, sadly, I have not been allowed to run since October 21st, 2010. This is because I had surgery on my left ear, and my surgeon is not a runner. I knew I would not be running for at least 2 weeks and I figured that was OK; as all runners know, you can go for 2 weeks of no running and pretty much pick up where you left off with no worries. It is now 3 weeks and I am still not allowed to run because I have a ruptured ear drum ( that's a tympanic membrane for your doctorly types...). I'm taking scads of pills right now-steroids and antibiotics, and I'm trying to walk a lot on my treadmill but it just isn't the same. I long for the wind on my face and the pavement under my feet.

If my surgeon was a runner, I'm convinced that while his admonishment against running would stand, he would at least be more sympathetic when he tells me I still can't run. He would understand what I'm losing. Cross you fingers for me-I see him on Friday and I'm praying for those magic words-
"You can start running again".

Van:0 Runner:1

Well, we can finally score a point in favor of runners. I was out running my customary 6 miles early yesterday morning, and I had a really scary close encounter with a service van-this was probably the closest I've ever come to being hit by a vehicle.

I was running southbound in the northbound lane on a usually quiet, traffic free street. I noticed a service van across the street backing out and I assumed he would either turn into the lane closest to him and head south, or he might back all the way into the next lane and go north-either way, I figured it was a really wide street and he had lots of room without even coming close to me, so I continued running south.

I realized he had chosen option 2 and was backing in to my lane. OK, I say to myself, there's still plenty of room. What I didn't count on was that the driver would take a third option-he was backing into my lane all the way to the curb. He was well into the bike lane where I was running and kept coming, forcing me to jump the curb and land in knee high weeds. He was right next to me before he ever saw me-then there was a sudden screech of brakes and his tires hit the curb hard so I figured I must have startled him when he saw me in his side mirror. Now I was pissed, so I smacked the side of his van really hard with my hand.

The driver came running around the van to my side with a look of absolute, complete terror on his face and I realized that when I smacked his van he must have thought that he hit me. The look on his face told the story of his thoughts-"Oh crap oh crap oh crap I just hit that runner I'm gonna lose my license and my job and I'll be sued and thrown in jail oh crap oh crap oh crap!"

Seriously-I thought I was going to have to give the guy CPR and I'm trying to remember the BeeGees song that has the correct rhythm for the compressions (is it How Deep is your Love? No, that can't be right, it's too slow, oh yeah, Stayin Alive....) and all the guy could do was tell me over and over that he was really sorry and was I ok and he didn't see me until the last minute and where did I get hit?

I took pity on the guy and told him he didn't hit me, but that he should be a little more careful-there's lots of kids on that street especially in the afternoon when school gets out and they may not be as observant as I was. He agreed, apologized again, and we went our separate ways.

If I had realized sooner that he thought he hit me, I would have laid down in the street and played dead. That REALLY would have given him a heart attack!

My Favorite Quote

"A man must love a thing very much if he not only practices it without any hope of fame or money, but even without any hope of doing it well."
Oliver Herford

I love this quote. It pretty much sums up my running addiction as well as everything else I've every tried to master. Fortunately, I've learned over the years that I can gain a pretty hefty sense of accomplishment from my best attempt at something even if that attempt falls short of being exceptional. I can revel in a mediocre outcome so long as I know I gave it everything I had. Running, shooting, playing a musical instrument-I'll continue to work very hard at everything I do even with the knowledge that average is the best I'll ever manage.

Edinburgh-the Good and the Bad

We returned from our vacation this week and overall, it was a really nice trip. We spent 3 weeks in Edinburgh with a couple of excursions to the countryside in a rental car, and the trip has left me with some observations about this venerable city that can only come from hours and hours of walking the streets both major and minor; I'm one of the few people who can go on vacation and lose 5 pounds.

I was organizing notes and maps and stuff to take on the trip and I found the notes a friend had made about places to visit for our previous trip to Edinburgh in 2007. At the last minute I tossed his notes in with mine and and I'm truly glad I did because that's how I discovered Dean Village. My friends notes said "Dean Village-feels like you've stepped back in time. Will seem like you've left the city and entered a tiny ancient village". That's exactly what it felt like. It was quiet and peaceful with no traffic or tourists or shops selling cheap kilts-definitely one of the highlights of the trip.

I found my favorite shop in the city. Royal Mile Antiques sells very nice Victorian jewelry and silver and a nice selection of Scottish pebble jewelry. Hubby and I befriended the owner (making 3 purchases didn't hurt...) and we had some nice conversations about the differences between Great Britain and the states.

There were only 2 aspects of the trip that were not enjoyable. We rented a car on 2 occasions to get out of the city and visit the countryside. A right hand drive car was not an issue for Hubby; he's been driving right hand drive cars for years and was quite comfortable with it. Driving on the left side of the road, however, was another story. He told me that he had to constantly think about every move he made because it just felt so wrong. As the passenger, I must say while just driving straight down the road was OK, every time we made a turn it was terrifying. I'm not even going to tell you, faithful readers, what I think of roundabouts. I only know that if I lead a very bad life and I am consigned to an eternity in hell, it will probably be an eternity in a roundabout somewhere between Edinburgh and Stirling.

The only other complaint I have regarding Edinburgh is how difficult it was for me to cross the streets. In the small town where I live, you could stand in the middle of the main road for at least 15 minutes, maybe longer, before you see a car and have to move to the shoulder. This is not the case in Edinburgh and because the streets are not laid out in a nice, orderly grid, the cars come at you from all different directions. And they drive on the wrong side of the road. I never did figure out what direction I should be watching for oncoming traffic and therefore I stood on the side of the road trying to watch every direction at once. We were in the city with another couple and they, as well as Hubby, caught on very nicely as to how to cross the streets. This meant that time after time they would scurry across the road and I would be left behind. Even at the lighted intersections I didn't feel safe and twice I almost got hit by someone who ran the red light. Honestly-would someone from Edinburgh please explain to me how the locals know to cross a few seconds before the light actually changes?

My Beloved Camaro

This is the reason I returned to work earlier this year. This is Big Blue, my faithful 1967 Camaro. I bought the car 12 years ago; I needed a daily driver for work and I decided my replacement car had to be fun to drive; it had to be pretty, and it had be a pre-smog car. I've been fond of the mighty Camaro ever since I was a teenager and my older sister had one and refused to let me drive hers.

When I bought Big Blue, he was perfect in every way except for his horrible paint job. It was positively criminal to take a beautiful, straight, mechanically sound car like this one and put a $99 Earl Scheib weekend special paint job on it. Sadly, that is what I lived with for 12 years because good paint jobs are very, very expensive and I lacked the means to do a proper job. Then, the offer came from my former boss to return to work and I decided I would work just long enough to paint Big Blue and return him to his former glory. And that is exactly what I did. Since I worked for a car dealership, I basically took my paychecks and handed them directly to the body shop. They had Big Blue for 3 months. The color is Nantucket blue, an original 1967 color although not Big Blues original shade-he came from the factory with a Deepwater blue paint job but I fell in love with this color the minute I saw the paint chip.

It's almost like having a new car. Big Blue was always fun to drive-there's something about that big block Chevy engine that puts a smile on my face every time I roll him out of the garage. I even managed to earn enough money to have him reshod with new tires. So if you see a middle aged woman cruising around the central coast of California in a blue 1967 Camaro, grinning like an idiot, it's probably me...

A New Age Group!

Today is my birthday and being a runner it has a whole different and very special meaning that a non-runner just wouldn't understand. So, faithful reader, you might ask what makes this particular birthday so special? Is it a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant with real tablecloths and an actual wine list? Is it a gift that comes in a very small black velvet box or the delivery of flowers from the local florist?

Actually, none of the above examples apply to me. This birthday is extra special because this year I'm in a new age group for races! So all you ladies in the 55 to 60 group, especially at the Bull Canyon Run-there's a new kid on the block!

Oh, crud. I just realized that the lady that kicks my butt at every single race I enter is the same age as me....

A Good Run!

My runs lately have been lackluster, to put it mildly. I've had to force myself out the door and I haven't always been successful at that. Today, however, reminded me why I still love running. I hit the pavement at 8:00 am with a plan of an easy 7 miler and I wondered if I would even be able to accomplish that. I soon discovered that my mojo tank was topped off and at 6 miles I knew I would finish a 7 miler easily. At 7 miles I decided to tack on an extra mile just because I could. Running conditions were absolutely perfect-we're still enjoying our cool coastal weather with a heavy layer of clouds well into the afternoon; I could feel the moisture from the fog on my skin while I ran. I've always felt that the whole "runner's high" thing was a cruel myth; I've never felt a high from running. But today's run was pretty close to perfect and maybe my version of a runners high is just feeling a serious sense of accomplishment after a good run.

Weather Report

I feel the need to apologize to my faithful readers right from the get go for this post. I know some of you are going to be very, very jealous of my situation right now...

You don't need to watch the weather reports on the news to know it's been extremely hot across the nation lately. The national weather map is one big, humongous blaze of red almost from sea to shining sea-I say almost because there's one tiny exception to our national heat wave. When the weather guy shows that national map and you see all that red indicating hot weather, look closely at California. Almost dead smack in the middle of the coast is a little strip of green indicating an oasis of cool weather. That is where I live. It hasn't even made it into the 70's for several days and we've had a blanket of cool clouds that doesn't lift until the afternoon. I ran yesterday at 10:00 and it was perfect running conditions-cloudy, cool, and just foggy enough that I could feel the moisture on my skin as I ran.

To those of you living in hotter climates, if I could send this weather your way, I would share it with you.

Horse VS Bird

I'm back to a regular running schedule although my weekly mileage is still only 25 mpw. I'm building my base back up but dang, it's hard-if anyone tells you that you'll be bored and not have anything to do if you retire early, don't believe them; what I've discovered is that generally I'm so busy that I still have stuff on my to-do list by the end of the day.

So, yesterday I went out for an easy 4 miler and who am I trying to kid? They're ALL easy runs for me because I'm so slow. So I'm on my usual route and I round the corner at mile 2 and there's this really nice Palimino in a large pasture right on the corner. The horse was standing in the corner of his pasture with his butt up against the fence. I'm pretty sure he was scratching his butt on the fence post; this is a pretty common activity for horses.

So, there's the horse doing his thing, and between the horse and me was a crow worrying at something on the ground. The crow hopped into the pasture to avoid me and he startled the horse. The horse kicked at him and KILLED THE BIRD! Yup, the horse commited aviary murder right in front of me-Mr. Ed nailed the hapless bird right in the head. I checked on the bird, thinking maybe he was only stunned but he was absolutely, completely, without a doubt dead. No CSI crew was needed to make that assessment.

I happen to like crows because they're so smart and I felt badly for this one. At lease it was a quick death.

Best 4th of July-EVER!

I got to do something this 4rth of July holiday that was the most fun I've had in a long time-Hubby and I were invited to join the volunteer crew that sets off the fireworks display for a local beach community-my rule is that if someone asks you if you want to do something that involves fuses and requires a lot of safety gear and fire extinguishers, you always say yes. So there we were on the beach with our motorcycle helmets and eye protection and ear plugs around 5:00 pm. A huge section of the beach had already been cordoned off and most of the fireworks stuff was on the beach. We had to lug the mortar racks and the boxes of fireworks down to the shore then set up the racks and load them with the fireworks. It involved a lot of heavy lifting and shoveling so I decided to consider it cross training, since I skipped my usual run that morning. We got the mortar racks set up and now the fun part-loading them with the fireworks. The fireworks come in various sizes from 3" to 5" and look like small cannon balls wrapped in brown paper, with long fuses hanging out of them. My main job at this point was to make sure that the fireworks were varied, and that we didn't have a whole row of blue ones or magenta or gold, so I walked down the 5 rows of mortars, swapping out the fireworks-that part was fun. Then we carefully dropped the fireworks down the mortars with the fuses hanging out. After taping the fuses down we were ready for the show and the only thing left to do was to wait for dusk.

The crowds had gathered on the beach on both sides of our area and everyone was in a holiday mood. And here's the totally cool part-the guy in charge told Hubby and me that newbies always go first when it comes time to set off the fireworks, so I got to fire off the first row. We were given careful instruction on how to do it safely and finally I was handed a road flare and it was show time. I stepped up to the first rack of mortars, pulled of the paper guard on the end of the fuse, lit it and then turned away as I had been instructed to do. I heard a "ffffft" and then BOOM and the crowds of people on both sides cheered! With the guy in charge watching closely I continued down the row, lighting each one carefully. I really didn't get to see the ones I set off but every time I lit one I heard a highly satisfying cheer from the onlookers and I felt like a rock star each time.

Finally my row was done and it was Hubby's turn. He started lighting each mortar and I was able to enjoy the fireworks from a unique perspective, since we were directly underneath the display. We had embers and bits of burning paper raining down around us and it was amazing. After Hubby lit off all his mortars it was time for the more expert volunteers to light the cakes. These are large boxes full of fireworks designed to fire right from the ground, rather than being shot into the air and then exploding. They kind of fire in rows, and when these were set off we REALLY got showered with embers. It was an incredible experience, in which I felt like I was standing right in the middle of the fireworks display. And yet, through it all, I never felt like I was in an unsafe situation. The other volunteers had years of experience and several of them were firemen; and the guy in charge was extremely cautious.

Finally we had set off the rows of mortars with the more experienced volunteers setting off the fireworks in multiples rather than one by one as I did, and it was time for the grand finale. There was a flurry of activity and everyone had an assigned task except for Hubby and me; our task was to stay out of everyones way and enjoy the show. There were the last mortars and several cakes set off in quick succession and the show was over. Now, we had to clean up the beach and lug all the mortar racks and gear and trash up to the waiting van and get it torn down and loaded up. We didn't finish until almost midnight and we were exhausted but it was worth all the work.

Hubby and I were completely done in by the time we got home and we slept in Monday morning; and somehow I managed to jack up my foot when we were setting up the mortars and it's so sore I doubt if I'll be running for at least a week, and I now have an old jacket with some interesting holes burned in it, and the evening was totally worth it. I told the guy in charge that we'll volunteer to help again next year, and I have a new goal to aspire to-some day, I want to be part of the crew that sets off the finale!

Ahh, Retirement-again!

I seem to remember, several posts back, stating that I absolutely, positively, was not going to return to work after my last gig training a newbie. But....I got yet another call from my former boss and she wanted me to go to another location and do just a little training for 2 days so I said yes. I mean, come on, folks-before you judge me, remember that it was only for 2 days and I got paid travel time and I didn't have to drive (drove up with the boss) so how could I say no? Damn this work ethic!

So on Wednesday, we drove up the coast to a small business for training day. I spent about 2 hours in the business office, sitting in the corner and twiddling my fingers, watching the office staff work and give me the hairy eyeball because they knew something was afoot and they didn't know what my role in the drama would be. Finally my boss came in from her meeting and told me that one of the people I was supposed to work with was not there that day and I wouldn't be doing anything that day. So I sat for another 2 hours while she finished up with her meeting and we drove home-they paid me a lot of money to sit in an office and twiddle my fingers. I wish I had brought my DS. At least I got a really good lunch out of the day-a chicken and artichoke salad in a restaurant that I normally avoid because it's so expensive-it's the kind with a martini bar and real tablecloths.

So we head back up the coast bright and early Thursday and at least everyone is present for training. I sat in on a meeting trying to look attentive and intelligent; I've learned over the years that the best way to do that is to look at anyone who is talking and to keep my own mouth securely shut. There was one woman at the meeting that my boss warned me about-she's worked there for years doing the same work and she is very resistant to any changes to her job. She had a complete meltdown when we told her that her job would be changing quite a bit. Seriously-I thought she would start crying at any moment, which I hate. Women have enough problems in the business world without crying at the drop of a hat. So the meeting comes to an end and Crying Woman looks like she's about to have a stroke, then she looks just plain pissed off, and we return to the office where I have my little training session. It was very, very awkward.

Every time I told the staff about a procedure I wanted them to follow, someone would pipe in a nd say "we already do that". It got very annoying and I had to tell them that since I didn't know what their current procedures were, that I would probably give them a lot of advice that they didn't need; but my boss insisted that I follow a plan and go over certain specific items. I'm so glad it was only a 2 day gig because these people really did not want me to be there.

Sooooo...no more work for me-again!

Happy Runniversary to me!

I quit working yesterday. I imparted as much wisdom and common sense and accounting secrets as I could and my protege is now ready to fly solo. So this morning was my first run in over a week. I wish I could say it felt good but it didn't; my legs felt heavy and I was sluggish and slow, even for me. So the new plan is a week of easy 4 milers and then I'll start building up my mileage again.

May 30 was my runniversary. In my modest little first running log I wrote this entry:

"I did it! I ran the full length of Euc. (short for Eucalyptus street) without stopping. I can do this-I think I'll be running 2 miles soon."

That run was right at 1 mile and thus, the start of my running career. 4 years later, I'm still running. If you had told me on that day that I would someday complete a marathon I would have laughed and considered that just crazy talk. It's been an interesting journey, usually fun, sometimes painful, but always interesting. I hope I'll be celebrating my runniversary many years from now.

Soon to be Retired-Again!

I'll be finally winding down my current working gig, and next week will be my last week as a cubicle monkey. The last 2 weeks have been the worst-I've had to make sure all the work gets done as well as make sure my trainee gets properly trained and understands her role as a very small cog in a very large machine. So it's been 2 weeks of overtime and little running. I can't seem to get up early enough to fit in a run; I've been oversleeping (that means I get up at 5:00 instead of 4:00) and I think I've just really needed the extra sleep. I managed 4 miles yesterday morning and it felt wonderful, albeit slow. So I'm hoping I haven't lost too much conditioning and I'll be able to get back to running some decent miles soon.

I scored a very awesome treasure for my freezer yesterday. I was talking to a co-worker, and the conversation was about favorite foods. I mentioned that I loved lumpias-I call them Filipino egg rolls, but I only get to enjoy them at filipino weddings. My co-worker, whose wife is Filipino, told me he had about 6 dozen lumpias, home made by his wife's grandmother, in his freezer. So we arranged a trade-I made him a batch of chocolate chip cookies and he gave me 2 dozen lumpias. Now if I can just find a co-worker who makes tamales from scratch....

Work is a Drag

Sadly, my new work gig is putting a serious dent in my ability to run. I can't manage more than maybe 5 miles in the morning before work and trying to run after work is impossible, mostly because I hate running in the evening almost as much as I hate the deadmill. So I'm going to keep knocking out those pre-dawn 5 milers and try to squeeze in a longer run on the weekends. I'm thinking that if I can't maintain the kind of mileage that I want, maybe this is a good time to work on my speed. I've only been back to work for 1 week and already I can't wait for it to be done so I can go back to loafing on the sofa, watching Dr. Phil and eating bon bons.

As for my trainee, she's a very nice girl who is a quick learner. And-how about this-of all the gazillion or so people that I've trained to be cubicle monkeys, she is the only one that thanked me for training her! That's right, she actually said "Thank you for taking the time to train me. I appreciate that you're being so patient with me".

Give me a moment here as I wipe a tear from my eye....

Bull Canyon Run

Yesterday I once again attempted to break the 1 hour 10k barrier on the mighty Bull Canyon Run. It's an out and back with a rather nasty hill just before the turn around point; my strategy this year (my 4th attempt) was to run a reasonable pace to begin, power walk up the hill, then run like hell downhill to the finish line. Alas, I didn't even come close, finishing with a time of 1:06 and some seconds. I was actually closer last year (1:01:something) and I'm wondering if I should just tough it out and run up the hill. It was still a fun day; Hubby and I know lots of people both organizing and running this race and I met a few new runners during the day. So next year I will try yet again...

And I'm returning to work next Tuesday. I'm hoping my newbie trainee catches on quick because I'm going to try and have her trained and ready to go in 2 weeks, 3 weeks tops. This won't be a fun gig because I can't make my own hours this time around and I'll once again be a slave to the deadmill.

Back to Work-Again!

I noticed some time ago that the title of my last post was "Obverservations". I almost corrected the spelling then decided to let it stand; for some reason I like the new spelling and the fact that I've invented a new word. Since one of the definitions of obverse is "constituting the opposite aspect of the same fact" this title seemed appropriate for the post.

And now, faithful readers, the real subject of this particular post-yes, I am returning to work, possibly as early as next week. Hopefully this will be a short gig of no more than 2 or 3 weeks; I'll be training someone for the job that I used to do. I enjoy training and with the right trainee it can actually be sort of fun, showing them all the shortcuts I learned after almost 20 years as a cubicle monkey. The bad part of returning to work is that this time I won't be able to adjust my work hours to accomodate my running schedule, since I'll have to be at work bright and early to work with the newbie.

After this stint, I am absolutely, positively, without question, done working (unless my boss calls me again..).

Some Obverservations

A few things I realized somewhere between mile 6 and 7 during a slow, tedious 8 mile run today:

• The intensity of the need to scratch an itch on your back during a run will be in direct proportion to your inability to reach the itch.
• The awesomeness of your muscled, toned legs after 4 years of running is in direct proportion to the ugliness of your feet after 4 years of running.
• The importance of the run you want to do as early as possible on any given morning is in direct proportion to the number of issues that will come up that will prevent you from getting out the door and completing the run.
• The more important and impressive your last race was, the less likely that you will meet up with any runner type people to whom you can brag and who will understand how amazing it was.

Seriously-if any of you, my faithful readers, could see my feet, you would understand the second point. I've considered posting pictures, but I'm pretty sure there's a law against it.