Mommy, you smell like Barni!

I have so many things I want to share, this is what happens when I fail to post in a while.  For my failings I will mention a few things that are at the forefront of my mind.  One, the laundry.  What does this have to do with running, well I'm not totally sure yet, but it may have something to do with running, give me a minute

The other day, I was down in the basement throwing close into the washer and was overwhelmed by the amount of pink stuff.  Pink shirts, pink leggings, pink dress, pink socks, pink little girl panties.  What is with this proliferation of pink and I thought I did a pretty good job of purposefully buying clothes that were not pink because I hate marketing that is dumbed down to the lowest common denominator by gender: pink for girls, blue for boys.  I can't tell you how many terse emails I have sent to companies about there ridiculous marketing as if women are so one dimensional.  But, yet, here I am looking at this incredible showing of pink my kids have been drawn to: where have I failed them! I should try harder at brainwashing them while they sleep.  Frustrating.  Anybody else have this experience with pink?

Not terribly long ago, I bought some new earbuds, the worst ones actually, and I wrote that company too to let them know that their earbuds sucked.  Yurbuds, remember that for when you are in the market for new ones, pass these by, because they are no good.  But at any rate, I purchased these after my daughter broke my last pair (so annoyed...even getting annoyed just thinking about it now).  But, I bought some Yurbuds earbuds for women.  Oh, the marketing specifically to women was maddening, but the package said guaranteed to never fall out, sweat proof and designed for smaller ears.  Well, I had had problems with earbuds falling out and I do wear them for running and they do get sweaty, so the package said all the right things, so I bought them. Here's the real kicker: they were sold in purple and hot pink.  Colors women are naturally drawn to, right?  Lowest common denominator.  I bought them and the clerk at Target even said something: "how are these just for women?"  Good question.  I am buying them for the guarantee and if they don't live up to their promise, I am returning them for a full refund and I will write them a nasty note to boot (because that's the kind of consumer I am).  Well, after a couple of times wearing them while running, and being sweaty, they did fall  out and I spent a lot of time adjusting them and that was really annoying.  I like to be able to put the earbuds in and forget about it during the course of my run.  But, I wasn't able to do that with these.  I think one side stayed in moderately well, but it seemed to be teetering on falling out, but managed to hang in there for several miles without falling.  The other side, I ended up tucking into my bra because it kept falling out and I couldn't deal with it any longer.  Shortly thereafter they were returned to Target for a full refund and an email sent to Yurbuds.  Do you think I got a response back from Yurbuds??  Noo.  Jerks.  Even when I've emailed Under Armour before about the quality of their compression tights, they emailed me back.  So disappointed about Yurbuds.  My favorite earbuds: Klipsch.  They rock!  Everybody should get some of those.  I don't know about the Beats earbuds, but until I try those (for a small fee), I will recommend, and recommend highly Klipsch earbuds.

Now, back to the laundry.  I got a new winter running pull-over by Brooks and I've worn it a couple of times.  I put it on the other day to go for a run as it was bitter cold and I was not feeling good.  Not to self: don't go unless you are 100% certain that you are feeling 100%.  My stomach was hurting a bit and 3 plus miles away I thought I was going to throw-up.  My pullover however, was smelling funny.  I found myself wondering:  what is that smell an then pausing to do an underarm sniff test.  Holy moly! That's me, ewww, I smell like onions.  Aaagh.  So weird, I barely sweat when I run, but my goodness does my shirt smell.  Oh well.  Just keep running, just keep running (think: Finding Nemo).  Besides, I figured if I just kept running faster, my stomach might feel better (or at least i'd be home sooner).  By the time I got home, I didn't have a lot of time to change clothes (and I didn't throw up: bonus!), because it was about that time to pick up the little one.  I'll just put on my jacket.  Then after getting her, we'll go get her sister, keep the jacket on, stay in the car.  Perfecto.  Now at this point, several hours post run, it's just easier once we get home to keep the running pullover on, you know, the path of least resistance.  But, as we are playing a game, I get another wiff of myself: oy vey!  It's important to share this with my kids.  "Hey, Eytan, get a wiff of this"  Eeeew, Mommy, you smell like Barni (the dog).  Then, not wanting to feel left out, Ayelet says 'mommy, let me smell'  Well, why would I leave her out?  It was my duty to allow her to partake in the under armor festivities.  So, I get her nose all up in there.  "oooh, grosss out"  Then, I think back on the days of yore, when I used to work at an overpriced yoga wear store that put silver in their tops to prevent stink; that seemed genius right about now.  Unable to withstand my own funk any longer, I popped something on Netflix for the girls and went to take a shower so I could stand the smell of me again an wash the smell off that shirt.  And later, it would give me an opportunity to write Brooks about their horribly placed pocket on that pullover that takes me a good 3 minutes just to get my phone in and zip up.  Precious time that I am losing because my time keeper has already started tracking my pace 2 minutes and 50 seconds ago. Again, once I figure out which style of Brooks pullover I have I will email Brooks (don't get me wrong, I love my pullover, it's warm it does all I need it to do an its electric blue, not pink so it is really great.  It's just this pocket is located in such a horrible spot for me to put my phone an use it, drives me nuts).  And that pullover happens to be in the laundry.  See how these things come full circle.   There is a point to my madness. 

Who are you to tell me how to spend my reward points?

I have so much to say I don't even know where to begin.

I am looking at my American Express bill page at how many reward points I have.  I see I have apparently forfeited 75 points (good to know, I guess).  I clicked on the redeem for cash.  Then it says you can have your points redeemed as a credit back to your card.  What?  That's messed up.  I thought I said I wanted cash.  Who are you to tell me how to spend my cash.  Maybe I had no plans to spend it paying you Amex.  Douchebags.  So, now I'm perusing some other options to spend my "rewards" on some other stuff I likely don't need and will sell at a garage sale.  I see for a mere 214,000 points I can get an Apple I-Mac.  Then, they have a KitchenAid four slice toaster for 13,200 points or until supplies last (really, as if there is a fear this is going to run out, way to try to put the fear in me.  It didn't work).  I only have 11,783 points so I couldn't have gotten it anyway, but I am pretty particular about my toaster ovens anyway, and I do actually want another one, but I want a DeLonghi.  We had one a while ago and it was the best.  I long to get another.  It was a wedding gift and I can't recall what happened to it, but my mom got us a replacement from a big box store and believe me, this is no DeLonghi.  It works and all, but sometimes, it is really true when they say, "you get what you pay for."  I am thankful that my mom got us this one though, but when it dies, I'm getting a DeLonghi.  So, maybe I should get the Macy's gift card with my points and use that towards the purchase of a DeLonghi?

To make things even crazier, it says you can use your reward points as little as 7500 points for travel.  Again, I have over 11,000 yet when I click on redeem for travel it says, sorry not eligible.  Uh, what?  Did I miss something?  11k is more than 7500, so yes I absolutely am eligible.  In the fine print it says there are no blackout dates and you haven't even asked me when I'm going so you don't know I'm not eligible.  Let me try this again.  And, BOOM: not eligible.  This is re-dick-you-lus!  Fine, eff-yu.  I don't need to travel with my Amex anyway.

They have some of the lamest stuff on here.  Garbage stuff.  The kind of things you'd find in a fancy pants nursing facility.  Michael Kors purses, Swarvoski bracelets and handbags and golf hats. Totally random, mish-mash assortment of goods.

Now, I have learned, that for a small fee ($35) I can reinstate the forfeited points I lost last year.  Hmm, I don't know if it's worth it.

Would you pay for it?

It can all be solved with a good pair of headphones

Once again, it's been a while since my last post and I have pondered a lot of things.  Running, parenting, headphones.  You name it.

We've been on a couple vacations and I really like vacations.  We took our last vacation of the summer recently and in the last couple of weeks we went to Bellingham, Washington and visited Sam's step-sister and her family for a couple of days on our way to Whistler, B.C.  This was all in an effort to break up the drive from Portland to B.C.  We left Friday morning, not as early as I had wanted, although I had said repeatedly that we should leave early in the morning to get ahead of any traffic.  Sam said we could leave later and likely be okay.  Boy was he wrong.  We got delayed in traffic at several points along the way and then traveling with two kids, you're destined to stop more than you would prefer because someone is bound to need to use the restroom at the most inopportune time.  What normally would take 4 hour, ultimately took closer to 6, yes 6!  Can you hear an I told you so?

Upon arriving, we had a bite to eat, a drink walked around to the water (Aunt Shannon lives right on the water) and off to bed.  I was pooped.  The girls were besides themselves excited that they were going to be sleeping with their 16 year old cousin.  They were virtually star-struck, it was so sweet.  And, the added bonus: Aunt Shannon has 2 cats and 1 dog.  The girls love cats (I however, hate cats, not to mention, I'm allergic to them).  Next morning, the girls are refreshed and ready to hang with cousin Ariel.  Uncle Randy is home now, too and so the house is abuzz.  I get dressed to go for a run, what I usually do to check out a new place, and the weather is near perfect: cool, overcast, in the 60's.  Shannon and Randy tell me about this interurban trail that runs for miles through the woods at the top of the hill.  I'm off to find it.  I use the headphones that came with the iPhone, which are pretty crappy, but for now, it's all I got since my good pair have a short.  Fortunately, the mapmyrun program picked up the interurban trail since I didn't know where I was going otherwise, but once I found it, oh wow!  What an amazing trail that is.  If you are ever in the Bellingham area, you should check this out.  I ran on the trail for 5 miles and it was superb, so scenic and forested and peaceful.  You could run for miles and the terrain is perfect, some hills, but nothing that would make you curse your mother's name.  I saw a few other runners and walkers and bikers.  It was ... magical running.

Back at the house the girls were getting their toenails polished by Ariel and afterwards we had a fashion show.  We went on walks, played ball with the dog, made s'mores.  The most exciting thing the girls did there was lit giant sparklers, courtesy of Uncle Randy.  Eytan said it was the best day of her life.  It was pretty great, actually.  I would definitely hang out with them again for more time because they were such great hosts and the location was so incredible.  But, by Sunday morning, it was time to move on to our next destination: Canada.

Fortunately, from Bellingham, it's only 30 minutes away so we made a quick stop at Trader Joe's for some provisions and booze, then the gas station then off to the border.  The US/Canada border is where the fun began.  The border patrol guy was a real charmer (you should detect a hint a dripping sarcasm, because in all actuality, he was a complete and utter prick).  I believe I answered all his questions correctly, but maybe not to his satisfaction.  I may have looked to Sam for confirmation/affirmation one too many times.  I didn't know what day we were returning; was it Saturday or Sunday?  He asked our reservation number.  I said we didn't have one and things really took a turn then.  "Well, you can explain it to the officer."

We were all detained in the office, mwah, mwah.  That guy clearly hated his job because he was a real d-bag.  After parking the car and going inside the office, we waited to speak with an agent at the counter.  Finally, the agent calls us and asks us who owns the car, why we are going to Canada (US, junior varsity) who we work for, what kind  of work we do, blah, blah, blah.  Okay, wait while I check this all out and leave your keys.  Eytan and Ayelet were running around like crazy kids at an amusement park.  I had to tell them to ratchet it back because nobody was having any fun there.  Finally, they call Sam over grill him and decide we can enter the country.  Seriously, canucks?

We arrived in Whistler and stayed for a week.  I went running, gosh, I think two, maybe three times while I was there.  I used the crappy iPhone headphones and I used Sam's headphones once.  My favorites are Klipsch headphones.  They really seem to form to the inside of your ear well and stay put; unlike some others I've tried.  I feel like I had another good pair, but Ayelet broke them while we were on a family reunion vacation in Alabama...curses, kids.  I replaced them with some Yurbuds, 'designed especially for women' ear buds.  Guaranteed not to fall out because they are designed smaller to fit a woman's ear.  Well, those were a complete fail.  I had low expectations for them.  Not only because they were marketed specifically to women and they colored them purple (they also sell them in hot pink, because all women naturally gravitate toward those colors, right?) But, I was curious about the small design and the never fall out guarantee.  If it was true: awesome.  If not, I was absolutely going to contact them about their BS.  And, I did.  Now, I have no earphones other than the standard issue crappy iPhone ones (did I already mention that those suck?)  At any rate, the running in Whistler is great, even if the earphones aren't so great.  So many paved trails throughout for runners, walkers and bikers or whatever your activity.  I had a nice run my first time out and made it back without incident, although I got lost.  Almost prophetic: lost around Lost Lake.  That sucked.  Ultimately, I managed to make it back but geez, all those resorts look alike.  Next time out, I went again around Lost Lake but this time I was going to go around the perimeter of the lake.  Sam had said he had run around the lake and it sounded nice so I would give it a whirl.

I begrudgingly went out for a run after talking myself into going for a run because I was so exhausted I didn't even want to go.  I then decided, I'll just go for 2 miles and call it good.  But, then once out there I figured that's insulting (to myself) to run that short of a distance.  So, I should run farther and really make it a good run, i'd only be cheating myself otherwise.  Besides, i'd only feel guilty if I didn't really give it a good go.  I ran and passed several people and saw another woman that I had seen running on another day.  We said hi to each other and kept going.  I got to the unpaved portion of the Lost Lake trail to go around the perimeter of the lake and passed some walkers and a woman with her to dogs.  Continuing on, I was feeling good, a bit winded, but good otherwise.  My crappy ear phones were getting sweaty and one fell out of my ear and as I looked down to tuck it in my bra strap and walk forward I looked up and up ahead on my left nearest the bank by the water I saw a black bear that looked at me.  Whoa.  That's okay, I don't need to see the perimeter of the lake or take a longer run, i'll just go back this way towards the woman with the dogs and sprint towards her, because she wasn't that far ahead of me.  I don't think I had run that fast in a while and I knew that running away from that bear was not a wise thing to do, but I didn't want to stand there either and I knew running toward it was a bad idea as well and I was stunned into silence.  Now I know what fear does for me: silences me.

Once I caught up with the lady with the dogs I told her I saw a bear and she said she was not going to go back that direction (although she was much more bear prepared than I and had bear mace.  I had nothing, not even a whistle or bear bells).  My entire run from that point on was a virtual sprint, even though there were people around and the likelihood of seeing a bear at that point, in a much more populated area of the trail was very, very remote, I was not taking any chances.  My pace was the fastest it had been in a long, while: but for good reason- FEAR.

I now know, for me, good headphones are essential (one of the essential things) to a good run, if you listen to something while you run and to not have to futz with a pair of headphones while you run: PRICELESS.  Yurbuds, you suck! Klipsch, you rock!  Good earphones allow you to escape your life while you run and solve problems effortlessly, which in turn, makes me a better parent.

No gallbladder, no problem, I can still run right?

Allow me to set the stage, provide some background to what I'm about to tell you.  Years ago, Sam and I went to Bend for a vacay with either both children (or perhaps it was just Eytan...I can't recall if it was before or after Ayelet was born).  But, while we were there, the Cascade Lakes Relay was going on and we saw some of the runners pass us as we stopped enjoying some of the scenery along the Cascade Lakes Highway.  At that time, I told Sam I want to do that.  We visited a friend of mine from high school, and I casually mentioned it to her and she didn't seem that interested in it.  But, she is also a runner and lives in Redmond so I thought she would be perfect for this relay.  But, not even a glimmer of interest sparked in her eye.  No biggie, you can't convince someone if they aren't in that camp.  Fast forward to July 8.  I was laying in bed and I said something about again to Sam.  I said I want to get on a Cascade Lakes Relay team.  So, I went to their website and entered the information for a runner looking for a team.  That had to be around 9 or 10 pm.  By the following day, I had received an email from someone asking if I was still interested because she was looking for someone to take her place on her team so she could attend a wedding.  Whoa!! I didn't envision it would happen so quickly.  But, absolutely, I'm interested, it wasn't even 24-hours ago that I posted that I was a runner looking for a team on the spreadsheet on Cascade Lakes Relay webpage.  I emailed a couple of times with this person, Susan and ultimately with the George (not the captain, but he could have been...details).  I'm in!  Just pay (isn't that how everything is, just pay and you're in like flynn?  But, considering this is something I've been wanting to do for a while, it was something I was willing to pay for.

Things start moving along just fine.  I receive Facebook updates from the team, Spartan Reunion Tour.  I find out which legs I'll be running: 4, 16 and 28.  I read the Cascade Lakes Relay rules, map and anything else I can find on their website about the course.  I'm totally excited and nervous.  I continue on about me day-to-day life though because I still need to work and take care of the girls etc.  I manage to go on some runs and try to go on some long runs, but the weather changes and it gets rather warm and I am not a warm weather runner.  But, since I know it might be warm I try to push myself to run in weather that I would not normally run.

Tuesday, July 15th, I went for a run in the evening and it was blazing hot.  My phone said it was 90.  Was it wise to go in this temperature?  Well, doesn't matter now, but I figure its good to push yourself.  I recall thinking it didn't feel that hot when I first left the house.  But, after running a half mile believing it was, in fact 90 degrees.  But, then it was too late to turn around and go home.  I must just continue on with my forward momentum.  So I did, to the tune of 4.67 miles, and I felt like crap afterward.  But, I did it.  Then I went again on Wednesday, because I always tend to go on Wednesday because the girls were at summer school and I have time to myself so I must take advantage of that solace.  So I went again, it wasn't as warm, it was probably in the high 60's.  I went about the same distance.  I came home and remember my stomach feeling a bit funny, but nothing that unusual.  I figured it was just because I hadn't eaten and was hungry.  I ignored it, showered, ate some breakfast and went about my day.  The girls came home, we hung out, had a snack of fresh berries, chatted about their day at summer school, watched the Wild Kratts and again I thought, my stomach hurts, but, again, nothing to horrible.  I was also thinking, man this house is hot.  I need a glass of ice water.  The heat is so distracting.  Wow.  Why doesn't that fan go any higher?  Geez.

Dinner?  What's for dinner you ask?  In this heat, Daddy made chili, yes, chili in the crock pot in this heat.  So, allow me to prepare your bowl for you.  Because I love serving you two.  So, the three of us sat at the table and ate dinner: chili, with crushed chips and some sprinkled cheese on top.  Yummy.  Mind you this is vegetarian chili with tofu.  Finally, Sam gets home and partakes in our dinner.  My stomach has still been bothering me.  But, I have been ignoring this for hours now and will continue to ignore it.

After getting the girls ready for bed, reading books and doing whatever we do for our bedtime ritual, we do it.  I am still working on some brief for work and I lay in bed and attempt to work on it in bed.  But, I am having a hard time getting comfy because my stomach is hurting and I tell Sam that my stomach hurts.  He asks if its his cooking.  Yes, perhaps.

Hours later, while my family sleeps soundly, I toss and turn in pain.  I get up and scour the cabinet for Alka-Seltzer.  Yummy.  Why is this so nasty?  And why so ineffective?  At any rate, I pop two in a glass of water, drink it down and then wait a minute for the burp that follows.  Then I drink some baking soda with water, unconvinced of the effectiveness of Alka-Seltzer, determined to get some relief.  I go back to bed.  I prop the pillows up in any configuration possible to achieve sleep and relief from the pain I am feeling.  I keep thinking, maybe I should just drive myself to the hospital since urgent care is closed.  I can leave a note for Sam, he can find it in the morning, no point in waking him.  Eventually, I fall asleep.  I wake up, feeling my stomach churning and my mouth filling with salty saliva preparing to throw up, but then nothing happens.  Oh no, clearly, vomiting is just around the bend.  Then, within the hour, my prediction comes true (I should set up a booth at a fair and charge).

Although I am vomiting my guts out all morning and tell Sam this, he still says, "I have to go work".  I guess me telling you I'm throwing up and writhing in pain is not enough of an indicator that I may need assistance from you.  Don't mind me, you go on to work, i'm fine.  Truly, I basically had to beg Sam to get the girls breakfast before leaving to go to work, while I was clutching my stomach in bed.  After Sam left, I had to get myself up, put something on, I didn't bother brushing my teeth, I did wash my face though, and got the girls off to school.  It was the fastest school drop off ever.  Two kisses, two hugs and mommy was out.  Nothing extra this time, mommy was about to faint on the floor.

Back at home, more vomiting.  Wow, this is not good.  I manage to get myself to the gas station across the street from my house after some serious pep talking.  I tried to make myself walk like a normal person, you know, up right.  I got some ginger ale.  Why can't that be more obviously located in the cooler, anyway?

Back at home, I grab my phone and make up the stairs to the bed.  I convince myself to take a small drink of the ginger ale.  Afterwards, I lie down.  Moments later, I'm dashing to the bathroom.  Not a good scene.  Back in bed, clutching my stomach and pillow.  Sam called.  I tell him I need to go to the hospital.

At the hospital, after poking around, and giving me something for pain, they tell me my gallbladder has to come out tonight.  I have a gallstone that is blocking the neck of my gallbladder and it is irritating the gallbladder.  They continue giving me morphine.  My pain subsides, thank goodness.  That pain is worse than labor pains, it was brutal.

Before the surgery, I spoke withe the attending surgeon about the surgery.  I explained that I was planning on running the Cascade Lakes Rely August 1-2, would this impede me from participating.  She said I wouldn't be doing any damage by running, I just may not feel like running.  Good enough, i'm golden.  I'm in.  This will not stop me from running.  My big concerns are alleviated.  That and I have a camping trip planned for Friday through Sunday (the Friday that the gallbladder is ultimately to come out, which I end up missing due to the surgery, and have to go on Saturday instead).

So, being in the hospital blows, everybody knows that but, when they say your surgery will happen tonight then it doesn't happen because more urgent things come in all night pushing your piddly painful gallbladder back further and further on the operating room schedule, it really sucks.  I was supposed to have my gallbladder out Thursday evening.  But, didn't actually get into surgery until Friday morning.  Whatever.  It's out, that's all that matters, right?  I did get out the same day because I was such an easy-peasy patient.  In surgery at 10:30 out of the hospital by 4:30, with drugs.  Sayonara!  Hello campsite on Saturday.

I did not run for about a week.  It was just under a week, I went running the Wednesday after I got out of the hospital because I felt good.  It didn't hurt, it felt like my stomach muscles were a little tight, but other than that I felt surprisingly good and had a speedy, short run.

I knew I wasn't going to be able to get in a lot of mileage for the CLR without risking injury, so I paced myself; opting to run smart and take my chances at the relay with muscle memory and my running experience.  Boy howdy.  That relay is one challenging relay.  It was hot and the elevation are challenges that are unique to this run that are difficult to prepare for in a cooler, sea-level climate.  My first leg was a little over 7 miles, which normally I would feel fine about, but this was a run that was in the middle of the desert and my run started at noon.  It was 90.  Ouch.  And to make matters worse, I forgot my camelback at the house where we were staying in La Pine.  I had a water bottle, but I am not accustomed to carrying a water bottle.  It was like carrying boiled water in my hand, it was so hot.  The second run was nighttime, it was perfect, probably in the high 50's on a gravel road, not ideal road conditions, but the temperature was great.  The third leg was warm as well, and my motivation to run was lost.  My music wasn't doing it any more.  I couldn't get my mind to shift gears.  I was off.

I was so hot and I had lost it completely.  A young girl had run up to me and asked that we run together, which I welcomed.  So we ran together for a while.  It was nice to have someone to run with to talk with for a while.  To take my mind off how I was feeling.  It worked well for both of us i'm sure.  We ran at a good pace for about a mile.  Then, we came to a hill and I couldn't find my motivation any longer because the heat got the better of me.  As my young blond friend ran off, she said, "you gotta find your rhythm girl!"  And that kept playing in my head as she ran off into the horizon.  Find my rhythm.  Find my rhythm.  She's right, I do need to find it, but I'm afraid it has been melted by this fucking heat.  Perhaps if it were cooler, I could find it and I would still be running.  But, right now, all I can muster is a few paces every now and again.  The heat is my kryptonite though.  I'm so weakened by the heat.   Eventually, I saw my van and one of my teammates ran and walked and ran with me to the next exchange because I was truly miserable.  It was nice to have someone there to chat with and run with and motivate me along the course.

But, I did manage to run to the end of my last leg.  I can now say that I have run the Cascade Lakes Relay and it was effing challenging.  I also ran it two weeks after having my gallbladder removed.  I had a goal to do this event and that intention was set years ago, and no stinking sick gallbladder was going to interfere with that goal.  So glad I did it!

 

Remember 702?

Whenever I look back to see when I last posted something I feel like, well, that's not so bad.  I generally try to post something at least once a week unless something prevents me from meeting that modest goal.  Generally, life gets in the way.  Kids, crazy schedule, that flipping dog, I got tired, Sam failed to pick up the slack so I had to, crazy as this may sound, do the work of more people (which is what most wives do anyway, but sometimes, that gets to be a bit much for me, and I drop one of the balls that I miraculously seem to keep suspended in air 85-90% of the time).

In all honesty, I don't recall when I last posted something, but my suspicion is it has been over a week, perhaps two?  For that I do apologize.  Its not that I haven't been thinking about topics to share and discuss.  I frequently think that if I could pop a little something-something real quick like from what's in my head, life would be so much easier.

I kind of want to continue where I left off about Alabama because I felt that I didn't really explain myself well with my heading: where are my people at?  Since I am a huge fan of clarity, allow me to back track so things are clear so that way we can move forward, together.

It's been a couple of weeks since our trip to Alabama but while we were there I ran with my cousin Thelma.  Thelma has been a runner for years and she has entered many races in Alabama.  Although there are many more Black people in Alabama, the Black people there don't enter races in large numbers.  Thelma said she had entered a race and won for her division and as she was walking to collect her prize people were looking at her puzzled like 'where is she going?' or since its Alabama, 'where's she dun go'n?'  Thelma said they did not expect her, a Black woman to walk up there to get that medal.  Other races she'd enter, others would ask her what she was doing.  I guess that whole one foot in front of the other at a fast pace was not an obvious indicator that she was running???  Now Thelma had resorted to telling people that she entered the race.  Thelma did tell me about efforts to get Black people out walking/running, but to appeal to people you can't ask them to wake up at 5:00 a.m. because people still love to sleep and their weekends are their only time to do that.  So although 5:00 a.m. in Alabama may be the best time to go for a run/walk in the summer, to be appealing, the time must also be appealing, so you set your clocks for 9:00 a.m.  Looks good on a flyer or a poster, but feels like sh*t if you're running because its so frigging humid!  Thelma told me about a race she entered that didn't start until 10:00 and had hills: WTF!!  No thank you.  Just donate to the cause and stay at home.  Thelma said she was so sick from the heat, but that's how you appeal to the people. Even when Thelma and I went running on the trail--at 5:30 a.m., I saw two other Black runners, and a handful of Black walkers, a gaggle of White runners.  Thelma joined Black Girls Run in Alabama (primarily for the blinged out shirt) so she sees at the very least these runners/walkers when she enters events.

I enter races and I often find myself looking around to see how many other brownies do I see (I am looking for anybody on color wheel spectrum, granted my visual test is not perfect, but its something).  Usually I am the only Black person.  The last race I was at, I dropped my driver license and I didn't realize I had dropped it.  The race had a bunch of people milling around and before the race started, somebody came up to me and said, "is this yours?"  and handed me my driver license they found on the ground.  I said "Yes, thanks" but found it funny at the same time.  (A) You know its mine because you're looking at the picture on the license and you're looking at me, it looks like me.  (B)  Even if you aren't looking at the picture and looking at me and recognizing the two, do you see another Black woman here?  Process of elimination my dear Watson!  Effing Genius.

I interviewed to be an ambassador for Black Girls Run in Portland, but they decided to pass on me.  I guess having run as much as I have was not enough, but whatevs.  I haven't heard anything from the group or if it is formed here or what.  I will continue to enter events and continue to look around to see are there other faces on the color spectrum or shall I remain a solo unicorn or will there be a blessing of unicorn at that particular event.  That is why I ask: where are my people at?  Which also makes me think of that 702 song, Where my girls at from the front to back, well is you feeling that, put one hand up, can you repeat that, trying to take my man, see I don't need that...remember that song.  I don't recall the year, but I recall that I was in law school (and boy did that suck) and I was friends with the only two other Black girls in my law school class.  Wow, talk about free association.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3lO5eGEnyRA because I care, click the link to watch their video (remember those, videos).

Until next time, keep running.  What race do you have coming up?

So, it's not just Oregon eh?

Well, a lot has happened in the time I have been absent from my blog.

I don't think I told you all about the Bald Peak Half that Sam and I did June 21.  I had read reviews on the RunOregon.com blog about the course from last year and it sounded grueling.  I told Sam about it, he simply said, "great".  I read the first 1.8 miles was uphill and a majority of the course was rather hilly.  I knew what I was in for, theoretically, but you can never really prepare yourself for the reality of a hilly course until you see the actual hill with your own eyes and your legs and feet feel it.  And boy did I feel it.  I thought I would do okay, since in the past I have tended to do very well on hills, it seems to be where I pass a lot of other people.  But when you can't see the crest of the hill, that's a problem.  I decided these weren't hills, these were mountains and we weren't running, we were hiking and the flattened portions is where we could intersperse our hiking with running.  Whatevs.  My lungs were burning, but it was still a good run.  At one point my phone decided to butt-dial a friend and I heard his voice mail pick up.  At that point, I decided I would no longer use my music, not that I turned it off, rather I just took out my headphones and listened to the sounds around me, not something I normally do (I never considered myself an internally motivated runner).  Strangely, it was actually quite nice without the music.  I was able to hear what people said to me when I passed them and when they passed me, and I was able to respond accordingly rather than giving them the obligatory half-smile as I slog up yet another hill.  On those relatively flat stretches, I was cruising.  Roadkills left and right, I felt great.  I got myself some electrolyte replacement and was on a roll.  The cool breeze on my skin felt amazing, then another hill, curses.  I tried to manage as long as possible, running up the hill that is, then the incline would get the better of me and I was walking.  So much for forward momentum.  But, in the end, I ran admirably across the finish line and felt great.  No PR at that run, but it was a small race and it was very scenic and I finished what I started and it was challenging and I love a challenge.  So, although it was brutal, I would do it again, for sure.  How many races do you enter will you pass an alpaca farm?  So, that alone is worth doing it again, maybe next time I'll take my phone out and snap photos.

Here we are pre-race, looking fresh as daisies:

Next, we went on vacation.  Well, we went on a trip.  A vacation is a place you go without your kids and someone waits on you hand and foot.  This was a trip.  The kids were there, we visited family and the location was not a typical vacation destination location: Alabama.  We went for a family reunion on my dad's side of the family and had a mini-family reunion in Montgomery, Alabama for my mom's side of the family.  

I ran on the hotel treadmill one day, 30 minutes in a canned environment and I was sweating like a __________ (fill in any appropriate southern euphemism, really, it could go many directions here).  Man do I dislike running on a treadmill.  I am so happy to live in the northwest that I can run at virtually any time of year outside.  Sure, I can run in Alabama too, and I did go running outside once, with my cousin Thelma.  I had to get up at 4:45 a.m. to do it though: OUCH!!  It was nice outside, the sun was coming up and the temperature was perfect.  But, geez, it was early.  

My cousin Thelma has been a runner for years.  I remember when I was little and she was always running and I was a chubby little girl who simply admired my lithe, fast, running cousin.  She was so cool.  Now, she and I were going running together...at the crack of dawn.  Thelma was telling me about how in the 60's she was a Black girl running.  Although there is a running group, Black Girls Run, which she is a member when she went to that group and was asked to introduce herself she said she has always been a runner because she loves running and back in the 60's she was a singular Black girl running and that it's great that now there's a group called Black Girls Run, but I remember way back when.  And after telling her story, it was as if she offended someone because they all got silent.  Really, my cousin is the original Black Girl Run, and remains.  I told her about being a Running Unicorn and she acknowledged the same thing happens in Alabama.  People don't seem to expect her to be running and when she has won medals they look at her funny, not expecting a Black woman to be walking up to the podium to collect her prize.  

It's still crazy.  Alabama is nuts, the race relations there are very odd.  But, that is a completely separate entry, I couldn't quite wrap my head around it, but it was very, very odd.  Confederate flags fly there and the Sons of the Confederate Veterans sign displayed clearly from the highway, obviously, that organization is proud of their heritage, granted that doesn't mean the whole state is, but so odd.  We were well ensconced in the bible belt which would explain why we drove past the sign that declared, "Go to church or the devil will get you" with a red devil carrying a pitchfork on the side of the highway.  Hmmm.  

Okay, moving right along.  I had a great run with my cousin near Samford College.  The girls hung out with lots of teens and tween cousins.  They were entertained and entertaining.  It was overall a very nice trip, I'm glad we went and I'm glad I'm home.  Now, I need to get it back into gear and do some real work.  For real.  Tomorrow.  

But, we came back to 90 degree temperatures.  What the?  Now I am going to have to get up early and go running in the morning.  Oy vey!  Well, at least it's not humid.  

Seriously, a racist remark is your best lead in?

Aah, a weekend getaway at the beach with some friends, what could be more relaxing?  No kids.  No place to be, no schedule, this is really setting the scene.

Sam purchased a livingsocial deal for a two-night stay at a beach along the Oregon Coast, Garibaldi.  I had never been there and knew nothing about it.  It included a wine tasting.  Okay. I made the reservation and invited my good friend Rachel and my sister Yolanda.

Rachel and I left for our trip after work on Friday after work.  We made pretty good time, even though Rachel drives like an elderly person (this is not a complaint necessarily, she gets us there, but there is a distinct difference between her driving and my driving: I drive like I have someplace to be, she drives like she's checking out the sights).  When we were close we made one stop in Tillamook at the Fred Meyer (p-u!!  the smell of cow poo was pervasive!!  Strangely though, there were no cows by the Tillamook Cheese Creamery...odd???) so I could by flip-flops because I wanted to walk on the beach once we got to Garibaldi.

When we found where we were staying, we mosey'd on in there was no one at the front desk and I was tempted to ring the bell, but I vacillated because I remembered working doing mammograms and having a bell when I worked weekends and how much I hated when people rang it, or rang it repeatedly (you only need to ring it once, I heard you, there is nothing wrong with my hearing.)  Fortunately, I didn't have to contemplate what to do for long, because a slack-jawed yocal came out carrying a half-consumed Coke at 5:00pm, wearing some jeans and red sweatshirt hoodie, with a haircut that looked like a flow-bee could have done the job, yet he probably paid somebody 8.99 for that hair 'style' which was 7.99 more than it was worth.  This slack-jawed yocal didn't acknowledge me.  Rachel was too busy looking at all the brochures they put out about things you can do in Garibaldi and the surrounding area to even notice this character, "oh, we could go kayaking, or ziplining, or ..."  Slack-jaw turned when he saw me and moments later a young lady came out and did her job, adequately.  Once checked in, Rachel and I went to the room and texted Yolanda to find out how far away she was and if she wanted us to wait for her before we went to dinner.  (of course we did).  We drank a bottle of wine while we waited.

When Yolanda finally arrived (and really, it wasn't that long, but long enough for Rachel and I to polish off a bottle of wine, which that's only two and half - three glasses per person).  So we had the discussion again about where we were going for dinner and should we drive, or walk or what.  We opted to walk, which limits our options and as we walked out the front door, Rachel said, "i'm intrigued by that place."  That place being, The Ghosthole.  Sounds horrible, because it is (present tense, because I'm sure it remains horrible).

We walk in, it's filled with locals and a couple of out-of-towners such as us (it's like an invisible line was drawn locals here out-of-towners over there) and we sit at a table by the window.  There's a pool table near our table and karaoke set up in the corner.  A menu is taped to the window and we wait for service.  And we wait some more.  Eventually someone comes over, but not with menus (because why would a server/waitress come with menus to newly seated customers who don't have them, right?)  She asked what we wanted to drink.  Water and wine, please.  And then she said there was a menu taped to the window, but she could bring another.  Yes, that'd be great, thanks, three please.  Mind you after the menu arrived, I noticed the options for me were slim.  I don't eat meat and I don't eat gluten.  So, a garden burger no bun and tater tots, please.  I don't think that gets ordered a lot, but it was that or go hungry and I was already hungry.

After "dinner?" Rachel ordered me a shot of what tasted like Malibu rum.  People continued to shoot pool and lean their booty over our table.  The first time I was like, WTF?  I was tempted to drop a tot down someone's pants, but I didn't really want to get that close.  But, then it kept happening.  No matter how many times I'd say something, and not under my breath, these people were so into this pool game that they had no regard for another.  We eventually became friendly with the couple at the table behind us who happened to be from out of town, Rosalinda and Joshua.  They were staying at the same place as us and felt this local place was a oddity as well, but was willing to have fun anyway.  Besides, after a few drinks, who cares.  These people don't know me and karaoke is fun.  I give the karaoke master a song that I want to sing with Rachel (the Eurythmics, Sweet Dreams) and we continue drinking and butts continue hanging our direction.  One individual hung his booty over and turned after hearing me complain.  I told him, his butt had been in our faces so often he should buy us a round of drinks.  He said he'd buy Rachel a drink (the White girl).  Uh, no.  Then he proceeds with, "I like Black people but I don't like Mexicans."  What?  Yolanda said, "you should meet our friend Rosalinda"  Apparently, this slack-jawed yocal goes by the nickname, Boomer (Sam and I had a dog named Boomer, she's dead now) and he lived in a foster home with a Black kid and so he likes Black people.  Truly, this whole encounter was like a Russian Roulette game.  So crazy!!  Who says that?

Rosalinda asked me if I spoke to Boomer when I made my reservation, but when she referred to Boomer, she lovingly referred to him "Did this sweet baby Jesus take your reservation?"  Because when he asked her for her name and she said Rosalinda, he said "oh, shit, a Mexican" and after that she said lots of discounts were applied to her visit.

A few other weird things happened while we were there.  Like an encounter with someone who said he was paraplegic yet walked and seemed to have use of all four limbs; both arms and both legs, without incident but had a blind cane (perhaps he misunderstood the word paraplegic and thought inability to see with two eyes well??)  and said he needed an attorney to help with collecting money for aggravating an old injury if he "slipped and fell", wink, wink.  "Cuz, I heard Wal-Mart pays out 30k just to make it go away."   Good luck with that, sir.

The moral of this story: avoid the Ghosthole.  Drive through Garibaldi.  Question livingsocial deals to small Oregon coastal towns you have never been to before.  Racism.  It is ever present.

Girls on the Run at the Starlight Parade

I volunteered yesterday evening with Girls on the Run and ran with a young girl from Beverly Cleary school in the Starlight Parade 5k fun run.  I don't normally do fun runs and I don't normally enter 5k but for a good cause and for a good reason, I will.  I love the opportunity to motivate a young girl to run and motivate her to achieve her goals, whatever they may be.  It's even more exciting if she is motivated to want to run, then I don't feel like Sisyphus and I'm doing all the work for naught (I have some youth clients like that, so frustrating).

We had our practice 5k several weeks ago, on a day that it was blazing hot and I had forgotten I had agreed to volunteer with Girls on the Run.  I was completely unprepared for the run and was wearing a pencil skirt, tee, the wrong bra for running and some Pumas. But, I managed the run just fine and was excited to do the real deal.

I came prepared this time for the Starlight Run.  I had a proper running skirt, a sports bra (that's key), running shoes, my trusty unicorn socks, the Girls on the Run issued tee I was told to wear (all though, if it were up to me, I would not have worn a cotton tee, but I can conform when asked to for a good cause) and my shades (they're prescription...better to see you with).

Sam, Eytan and Ayelet were going to drop me off.  But, when they got there, the girls said they wanted to see mommy run (okay, you've seen mommy run lots of races, bigger races than a 5k, but, okay).  If Daddy can find a parking space in this madness, you'll be in luck.  I arrived as I was told: before 6:30 and the field was quiet.  So much for everyone else being punctual.  The rest of my own team wasn't even there except for maybe one other runner who arrived at 5:30 (she misread the email she told me, ouch!)  Finally, people start arriving and then Sam texts and says they found a parking spot and will be coming down shortly.  Low and behold, the event doesn't even start until 7:45.  7:45??  Why on earth did I need to be there by 6:30?  I could have been there by 7:00 and things would have been just fine.  That's okay, its for a good cause.  Where is my running partner anyway?  That's cool, when she gets here it's not like she and I will be having some deep intellectual conversation.  Sam continues to walk around with the girls to see what free goodies they can find.  Then, Ayelet spots some balloons, the kind that get shaped into animals and flowers and such.  Some kid is sitting under an umbrella and has some balloons shaped into a hat of some sort on his head and she wants one.  Sam takes the girls over and they go bananas over the balloons.  This kids has quite the entrepreneurial spirit, the little asshole is charging for the balloons.  Seriously you little shit?  That bag of balloons cost maybe $2 and you're charging $1.00 for balloon flower?  You're lucky the balloon will pop before I try to tie it around your spindly neck.  Sam didn't bring money because he wasn't planning on staying, just dropping me off and the only money I have is for the bus ride to get home after the run.  When Ayelet finds out she is not getting a balloon, she melted down in a snotty mess of tears and sobs and "I want a balloon!!"  What is it with kids and balloons anyway?  After that, I pass along the tid-bit of information that the run doesn't even start until 7:45 (it's not even 7:00).  WHAAA??  Well, now that Sam is armed with this piece of knowledge, it's time to head out.  There is no way the restless troops, well, at least not Ayelet, can last much longer.  Kisses and hugs all around and hasta luego, buenos noches and have fun at Burgerville.

Finally, my running partner arrives.  Yay!  For the practice 5k I had two running partners.  Tessa and Sophie.  For the Starlight, I was told that I was down to 1: Tessa.  Tessa never seemed that into me as a running partner, but whatever.  I was introduced to Tessa's Aunt who seemed very nice and she was ready to run as well.  Sophie arrived with her mom, who remembered my name, which I thought was impressive (especially considering I did not remember hers).  I broke the news that I was no longer her running partner and Sophie looked saddened, which made me feel bad.  It was kind of weird especially knowing Tessa seemed to have such an indifference toward me, I got the feeling that if I had told her I wasn't going to be her running partner she would have continued putting on her glowstick bracelets like nothing happened.  So, I was a little taken aback when Sophie looked a little dejected by my news.  However, after speaking with the coaches, it turns out Sophie's running buddy did not show up (how dare you not show up??).  After speaking with Tessa's aunt who used to run regularly and was dressed to run, she agreed to run with Tessa and Tessa seemed okay with that arrangement.  I would run with Sophie, and all would be right with the world again.  Sophie made me a bracelet, so sweet, her mom took our pictures and we chatted about our master plan for the run and it felt great.  I felt I had a like-minded running partner; not overly chatty, serious, but not joyless.  Overall, she is great kid.

We chatted about her goal for the run and she said she didn't have one; just finish.  She said she also wanted to run the whole thing.  Done.  We can make that happen.  The run started off slow, because its so crowded, we talked a little bit.  We talked about her pace, if she felt good with it.  We chatted about costumes we saw on the course.  Then I asked her about getting high-fives from kids along the parade route, I said if you want to get high-fives you need to run along the sides.  At first Sophie said, nah, and shook her head that she wasn't interested.  I kept telling her she was nuts, that's the best part of the Starlight Parade run.  It's like all these people are out here for you, Sophie, cheering You on.  Sophie! Sophie!  You can't let your fans down, don't leave them hanging.  I'll start, then you get some.  It's fun!  I love that kind of thing.  High-fives from little kids is awesome!!  Eventually, Sophie was really feeling it.  I was so proud of her.  She was running in front of me with her hand out, reaching down to give little kids sitting on the ground high fives, all while maintaining a smooth stride.  Sophie truly made it look effortless like she had been doing this running thing and giving high-fives for a long time.  I kept envisioning tripping over some kids crocs and toppling over and having some bloody shoulder or elbow to contend with for the last mile, fortunately it didn't happen, but bending over to high-five a little kiddo sitting on the ground is putting myself in a precarious position and I've got farther to bend over than Sophie.

Sophie took the hills like a master and finished strong.  I couldn't have been more proud of my running partner.  I am so glad that I volunteered with Girls on the Run.  I have spoken about it with Eytan and Ayelet and eagerly await when they are old enough to participate so I can have them as my running partners and I can coach a group of young girls at their school.  It was such a rewarding experience.

Then came time to get the heck out of dodge.  I was planning on taking the bus home, but because of the Starlight Parade I couldn't even figure out where the buses were picking up from.  I decided I would just run home once I got to the east side of the river or at least to the Hawthorne Bridge; I was thinking, it wouldn't be that difficult to get to the east side of the river.  Boy howdy was I wrong.  I am not a parade person, but those parade people are serious!  Listen, that's great you enjoy a good 'show', but I just want to get across the street in the most direct route as possible and that would be a straight line, in this case that would be through the parade route.  I don't want to obstruct your view, I don't want to see the parade I just want to get across the street and I don't want any trouble.

It all seemed simple at first as I moseyed down the street, then I came upon Broadway where the parade route was performing.  A group of clowns at the corner and a bit north a group of cops with some guns or flags or something sharp, either way, I didn't want to bother with them...cops are trigger happy with brown people (then they make up some lame excuse about why it was the brown persons fault to justify their trigger finger and their internal investigations always seems to back it up..., so it was best to stay with the clowns even if they are weird).  I asked several people if I could get by because I wanted to cross the street.  These people seemed nice enough and they let me eek by and I dashed through a troupe of clowns doing their thing (you could probably come up with a joke here; what happens when a lawyer crosses a clown?)

I thought I was in the clear of the parade.  I continued east, saw some other parade watchers getting upset with people stopping and standing in front of them, not me of course, because I know how to keep it moving and I'm not interested in stopping to watch.  My goal: go home.  I would take the bus, but I still can't figure out where the buses are running from.  I see them, but it's almost like some urban legend at this point.  I see the bus and its almost like it vanishes into thin air, besides it's going the wrong direction and its several blocks away...how would I get to it with this parade in the way?

I keep walking and wouldn't you know it there is still more parade route down here, curses!!  I really don't need this right now.  This is a corner heavy with people, too.  And, I see lawn chairs, lots of them and blankets.  These people are clearly in for the long haul and they probably don't want me traipsing on their blanket (but should that really be their concern if they are laying their blanket on the dirty ass street where homeless people pee and poo and drunkards throw-up? And police horses poo?)  I stop at a corner. try to get across the street by asking people, excuse me, pardon me, I just want to get across the street.  I am told by some woman with a very thick accent, they aren't letting people cross, "what?"  They aren't letting people cross.  Another woman is standing next to me and she says she just came through here a few minutes ago.  The accented woman says the police won't let people through.  I look down the street both directions and don't see police anywhere.  Then I start thinking, how are the police going to keep people from crossing?  Their is no barricade.  The only people I see are some people that look like they could be flaggers or part of a float team, i.e., they have no policing authority.  I said, excuse me and start stepping over people and accented lady says, "seewiouzly?"  Seriously, mitches.  Again, I dash across but on the other side, it's camping chairs with the arm rests all touching so now I need to try to step over all these stinking chairs without falling.  Damn you people!  One person, one person moved his chair a smidge to allow me to get by.  Thank you, sir.  The rest of you, well, you know what you can do to yourselves.  It's not like I was obstructing your view by sitting in front of you, I was trying to get past you d-bags, I don't care about the parade, I'm not a parade person (we'll see if this changes when the girls are older).

Finally, I made it to the foot of the Hawthorne Bridge and I was able to run home from there, to what amounted to another 5k.  No crowds, just city traffic and traffic lights, the usual.  But, overall, what a great night.  I'm so proud of my running partner and I would absolutely volunteer with Girls on the Run next year.

These pretzels are making me thirsty

I feel like I have commiserated previously about going out for a run and feeling like my legs were carrying around bricks.  Without having reread any past posts, I am going to presume I did utter this sentiment and I will do it again.

I went for a run Wednesday, mid-morning.  It was 10:42 a.m.  It wasn't raining, although it had been raining heavily all morning and there was a break in the rain.  I was dressed to go running from the moment I got the girls up to go to school.  Got to be prepared at any given moment because you just never know when it will be dry enough to dash out the door on a day like this (showers followed by monsoon like rains followed by sun).  I had on some capri running skirt ensemble and a long sleeve tee.  But, I saw a glimmer of sun, so I changed just before I headed out the door into a short sleeve tee.  I had a cup of coffee earlier in the morning when I was getting the girls the breakfast, but I usually have coffee before I go for a run (just for a little extra kick) so that was not unusual.  At 10, I remember thinking I should probably drink some more water so I did have some, but probably not enough though.  I didn't want to drink too much because I didn't want to be bloated and have to pee along my run.  I really just wanted enough to hydrate me at that moment.  However, I wasn't planning on going for a very long run, 5-6 miles.  I should have known what was happening at that moment, but once again (a recurring theme, hindsight...grrr).

I put the Beast in her crate and headed out the door.  Music on.  Check.  Mapmyrun on.  Check.  10 second countdown begins and I'm off.  The first thing I notice is I feel like I am moving a bit slower than usual and it feels warmer than I expected.  I was wishing I had put shorts on instead.  Too late now, I've left the house and there's no turning back.  Now, the other thing I'm thinking is where to go.  But, dang why does it feel so difficult?  I'm not even a mile in and I'm really sluggish.  Granted, it usually takes me a couple miles to get into my groove (why don't I add some Deee-Lite, a little Groove is in Heart, remember that? to my running mix? What ever happened to them anyway?)  I had to cross a busy street, Powell, and of course those drivers aren't stopping for nothing; even at the cross-walk.  I had to put myself out there, one foot precariously in the cross-walk and fortunately, someone stopped and I was able to dash across the street like a game of Frogger.  I kept going and it continued to feel like I had cinder blocks for feet.  I actually started getting what felt like a shin-splint, which I never get: not good.  The best way to make this go away is to keep running, right?  Just after I take a short walk because, WTF?  I walk about 5 seconds and decide to go up a hill, maybe the problem is I need some more heat generated in my legs to warm my muscles.  So, up a slow incline of Clinton where not only does that make the shin splint subside, but I also decide it's time to turn up my running so it doesn't feel so sluggish.  Except, the only thing I can think about is how dry my mouth is.  Not good.  That and how warm i'm feeling.  I'm actually wishing it would start raining so I can at least get some water in my mouth and cool off a bit because some clouds will invariably cover the sky, bye-bye sun and the temperature will drop.  Yippee!  But, nooohhh, why would my running prayers be answered?  They wouldn't.

I was able to speed up and feel like myself for another mile or so, but even the sight of puddles made me even more thirsty than before.  Why didn't I drink more water?  It's not good when the only thing you can think about on a run is how thirsty you are.  I am convinced that was why my legs felt like lead and my feet like cinder blocks.  Lack of hydration.  Then it made me think about my favorite hydration/electrolyte replacement.  Nuun.  When I first had it, it was at a race expo and I thought it was bad.  It's hard sometimes to drink those thinks when you're just moseying around not needing electrolyte replacements because they just taste like diluted Kool-Aid.  But now, it's my favorite!  Then just the other day I was reading that Kara Goucher has partnered with Nuun and had a giveaway on Facebook (which I didn't enter, but I thought about it).

I don't carry water or any other beverage with me when I go running shorter distance runs.  I find that it just slows me down and its unnecessary, as long as I have hydrated well prior to my run.  And in this case, I failed to hydrate well prior to my run and I am suffering the consequences now.  My focus is off.  My form is off.  I am a mess.  I am inordinately exhausted at a time when I should be feeling good.  You know it's bad when not only standing water looks appealing, but you start thinking about asking strange people if you can have a cup of water from their kitchen, you know like they are volunteers for my run and their house is a hydration station.

I'm not even sure at what point I was when the run started to feel decent, but even though I was thirsty as all get out and just wanted to end the misery.  I reached a point where I was able to fall into a comfortable rhythm; I just tuned into my music, tried to take my mind off my thirst (which was no easy feat.  Really, I just kept thinking about George Costanza, saying that line, "these pretzels are making me thirsty!")  There was no fixing my pace at that point, the damage had been done early on; now, I just need to focus on finishing.  Then as I ran across Holgate down 52nd to Steele I thought I felt a raindrop.  Could it be?  I felt what could have been maybe 10 raindrops.  Wow, way to throw me a bone when I'm about 2 miles from my house.  The clouds did come, which was nice, and there was a little bit of a breeze.  The even nicer part, was I was able to hit all green lights for the rest of the way home (really, red lights are the bane of my running-in-the-city existence, that and cement streets and pot holes - recall Charlie Hales!).

In the final stretch, I am cruising.  Feeling great, I've been non-stop for a while now and any kinks brought on by being ridden with thirst seemed to have worked themselves out.  I am still thirsty, but I have found my groove...as usual, it took me a couple miles to find it, but now that I'm here, I am at cruising altitude and if I had hydrated I would be able to go a couple more miles, but now that I am within a mile of my house I am excited but can kick it up a notch.  I will hydrate when I get home.  Note to self: drink more water.  Drink, drink, drink because your run depends on it.  A good run depends on it.  Now that I am home, just under 6 miles, probably my slowest in months, it has started to downpour.

Race pace blues or maybe another marathon in my future...

Post race do you look at your results and they are (1) not what you expected? (2) different than your time-keeper  you used during the race?  This post could go a multitude of directions.  It could become a rant about Mapmyrun or it could go the inward self-reflecting, accept who you are at this moment, touchy feely direction.  I haven't totally decided, yet.  But, let me tell you how I am feeling and there may be an intersection of emotions.

This weekend, while most Portland runners probably stayed in town to do the Rock n' Roll half-marathon, I opted to save myself some money, because that one cost a whole lot of money and after having done it once, I'm not totally sure what all the fuss is about.  I, however, am all about a well priced race, so I entered a smaller race in Keizer, Oregon.  The Keizer Iris Run which was first mentioned to me by the law librarian and it fit in with my training schedule (I was looking for a half in May) and the price was right ($50) versus $80+ (like the Rock n' Roll or Hippie Chick, with a discount code, yikes!); check and check.  I had trained pretty well.  Then maybe three weeks prior to, I started having some back pain and that put a kink in my training and I just didn't feel like running, but I would go anyway and would really suffer the consequences.  I popped my pills and saw my acupuncturist and continued with my training and thought I was feeling well enough (beside, I'd already paid for the entry, I'm going).

The first couple miles felt okay.  I always feel like the first three miles are my warm-up miles anyway, so I am always slogging through those just to get into a rhythm.  I thought, 'if I can just get myself through the first 9 miles, I should be okay'.  My music played on, a little Madonna, a little Fitz and the Tantrums, some Willie Moon, all seemed to be going just fine.  I ran alongside some older gentleman for a while - not talking, just keeping the same pace, but he must have entered the 10k because I didn't see him after the 10k turnaround.  My pace felt faster according to mapmyrun.  For the first 2 miles she said I was running 10 min/miles, then for miles 3 and 4 she said I had sped up to 9 min/miles.  Granted, I did feel like my pace was faster, but not unbearable.  It was so flat out there and the scenery was so rural and picturesque that you really began to just feel the ground pass under your feet effortlessly (in the beginning, toward the end, it passes with great effort where you wish there was a golf cart to give you a ride a couple of blocks).  Eventually, I couldn't convince myself that I could I could carry on this effortless charade any and all the things you know about running being a mental as well as physical sport, well, it's all true.  I fall victim to it often and when I know that I can continue running because I am physically strong enough and capable, mentally I start to shut down and walk a few steps.  Those few steps walking is the kiss of death for me because it is so hard to regain that momentum I once had going (which is why I try to limit it to a few steps only).  Curses!  I didn't make it to the 9-mile mark.  Grrr!!!  That's okay.  Don't beat yourself up about it.  I'm sure I can leave some roadkill behind (you know, when you pass another runner, i.e., roadkill).  Eventually, I make it to the turn around and I had been playing cat and mouse with these two guys.  They passed me, I passed them, they passed me and after the turn around I only saw one of the pair.  I kept him in my line of vision along with this other woman wearing turquoise leggings; those two would be my rabbits and I the greyhound.  The big guy was like a tortoise, he wasn't moving terribly fast, but more of a moderate and constant steady pace, that's actually hard to beat, very admirable component.  Turquoise legs was running similar to my pace but she would stop and walk every now and again and eat a energy gel pack or just take a breather.  So that was my opportunity to strike, but I had to catch up to her first and I did not want to expend much energy because after running 10 miles, you have to save some in the tank for the last three to get you to the finish.  I was able to pass the big guy at mile 10 and I never saw him again.  Yay!  My mapmyrun said I had slowed down and was now running 10.56 min/mile (that was my split pace, so I was really showing signs of exhaustion at that point), but my running still looked fluid.  I was able to speak to volunteers and sound like a normal person.  I passed turquoise legs by just trying to run a steady pace and stay focused.  There were a couple little hills in there, and I tend to do well on hills, and then we were about to be back in the neighborhood so I knew the misery was about to be over.  Good.

Aaah, the rain started.  It was predicted, but it hadn't drizzled at all until the last mile of the run, really??  Harumph!  I stopped and walked a moment and while I was walking, turquoise legs ran passed me.  I saw her and just thought, that's fine, I'll catch up to her, but I need a breather now.  (I should have known what was happening, this happens at every stinking race I do, especially towards the end...my give a shit was about to break.  Why didn't I see it coming?  Grrr.  You know what 'they' say about hindsight.)  Anyway, I did start running again, and I did surpass turquoise legs as she was donning a jacket (seriously, what's a little rain?  What kind of Oregon runner are you that you stop in the middle of an organized run to put on a rain jacket?  Huh?  I don't even know how many times I've gone running in rain, both a little drizzle to a monsoon: I survived (she would have too, just saying).  Anyway, while she was putting on her jacket, I passed her highness.  Now, there is less than a mile to go according to mapmyrun and I figure at this point I could probably keep up running to the finish line, right (but, dang, I am so flipping exhausted!  Why do I do this to myself? Yes, I can do this, easy peasy lemon squeasy, just keep going, just keep going.  Why can't Alicia Keys, Girl on Fire come on when you need it?  or MIA come on for some extra motivation.  The right tunes can carry me through and at that moment, I don't recall what was playing but it was not the right tunes, I know that much is for sure.  I ran several blocks then I walked a second or two, then ran, then walked half a second, then these ladies that I had passed a while ago passed me and you know I didn't think much of it.
Then this other lady that I had never even seen had come out of nowhere had passed me, what??  That's fine.  I continued running for and passed a couple, the woman was wearing a shirt of Whibdey Island marathon/half-marathon.  I thought I'd look that up later because I'm sure that's a scenic run.  Then, the unthinkable thing happened...turquoise legs passed me running.  I just didn't care anymore.  I started running, but just couldn't muster up enough energy to catch up to her or continue running for very long.  I was on E (at least until I could see the finish line).  Because when I see the finish line, I can run again, but not super fast, just fast enough to have a respectable crowd finish running across the line.  As it turns out, she ultimately finished 2 seconds ahead of me.  2 seconds! (but the real kicker is, she is 4 years older than me...argh!)

After finishing and turning off my mapmyrun, she said- and it took me a little bit of time to get my phone out of my pocket and save the run and all that, she said my pace was 10.47 min/mile.  I usually don't believe she is 100% accurate, but I try to believe there is some hint of truth to her numbers.  Perhaps she is within +/-5 min/mile, or maybe that's being too generous?  Sam asked me how I did, because the family couldn't make it to the run with me, I told him what mapmyrun said and he congratulates me.  I'm feeling pretty good, too.  I guess congratulations weren't really in order yet; they were premature until the official race results were posted.  Then they were and I was dejected.  I needed consoling.  My pace, my official pace was 10.56.  mwah, mwah.  After seeing that this afternoon, my mood fell flat.  Its amazing how you can go from feeling good when you believed your pace was 10.47 to be demoralized when the real pace is posted, like high school grades, for everyone to see, or who made the team after try-outs: 10.56.  I tried to keep this in perspective.  Thinking back on how going to weightwatchers, which I have been going for ages (imagine counseling in a group with a bunch of know-it-alls, blech) and when you have a bad weigh-in, they've said you should not let that weigh in ruin your day or your week.  Yes, it can be depressing, but think about what you can do to change so it doesn't happen again the following week.  What little changes can you make?  So, that's what I've tried to do with this race result.  I have gone back and looked at my last couple race results.  The last couple half marathons I have done are the Vancouver Lake Half, which was January 2014 (that was a horrible course, I might add) but I finished that one in 2:21:53, the next race I did was the Roaring River Half and I finished that one in 2:24:06.  So, this one is right in the middle, meaning I didn't do as bad as thought, but I could have done better than I did.  I finished in 2:23:08.

What could I do for the next one?  I could try to not let mental focus break down right before the finish line, in the last mile.  And, not be so hard on myself.  Naah, i'm not going to stop doing that, that's part of my make up, it's who I am.  I'll adjust my playlist and make sure I have more motivating music to keep me going.  Maybe I should train for another marathon or ultra?  Maybe that's what I need??

Happy stinking mother's day...it's a sham

Mother's Day is over,  what a sham of a holiday.  I was chatting with the daughter of a client yesterday and she was saying how she thought Mother's Day is another Hallmark holiday, opportunity to make some money.  I would tend to agree.  I adore my children and I know they love me...even though Eytan did say she wanted to write a book called, "Mommy Go Away for 90-Years".  This morning, she crawled into bed with me to tell me a menagerie of things, one of which was "I love you, Mommy, I never want you to go away" (I guess she's putting a hold on production on that book).  Ayelet tells me, almost daily, "I love you so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so much" and hugs me at the knee caps.  They both make me little trinkets both at school and at home while I'm making them breakfast, snacks, and dinner.  They pick flowers for me, make me mud-pies and all sorts of things to show me how much they love me, daily.  So did they need Sunday, May 11th to tell them something they already knew? Or to remind them to do something they already do instinctively?  No, because what that did for them was tell them to wake at 6:15 a.m., traipse into my room, and wake me, from my peaceful slumber to tell me, "Happy Mother's Day!!"  Bleary eyed, actually, I don't even know if I opened my eyes, now that I think about it, it was so stinkin' early.  Perhaps one eye was open, as I said, 'thanks girls, that's sweet, now can you go lay down in your beds and talk quietly for a while, it's really early.'  They came back maybe 30 minutes later.  At that point, I figured it was over.  Sam had said the night before he was going to take the dog running in the morning and we were planning on going to my parent's house for brunch.  So, I was encouraging him to get up and go early since we were already awake, rather than lay around in bed under the guise that he was going back to sleep.  Its not happening.  Get your butt up, take your dog and go running and get it over with so we can get this day moving, the clock is ticking.  It never fails that we are the last to arrive anywhere because ... well, we just are.   Finally, Sam takes Barni and goes running, I help the girls get dressed and tidy up the house, get dressed.  Then Sam gets back and remembers there is a dead chicken at the school he was going to bag to remove so when the kids return on Monday, they don't have to see a dead chicken.  Now, where is the key to the gate?  It was hanging on the hook by the door and now its not.  Again, the clock is ticking, and its stuff like this that affect our arrival times.  Sam looks around the house and outside.  I continue to get dressed, the girls watch Wild Kratts.  I look in my car for the key and clean out my car at the same time, no key, Sam sits and waits and watches Wild Kratts with the girls.  Whatever, we'll look for the key later but at the very least Sam should get in the shower so we can leave because at this point, my mom has already called asking when we are coming over.  Ugh!  Well, since you can hear the television in the background, you know I am still at home, so I haven't left my house yet.  I don't know when I'm leaving, probably when I get in my car.  I'll call you when we're on our way.  But, as I am on the phone, I get a glimpse of the floor and see it is covered in dog hairs.  So, while I am waiting for Sam to shower, I vacuum the floor.  I move some furniture, the ottoman, the arm chair, the couch and voila! the key is under the couch.  Amazing what you find when you look and move furniture.  I give the key to Eytan and tell her to go give it to Daddy and tell him I found the key.  Eventually, he strolls down the stairs, gets a garbage bag, goes up to the school, bags the dead chicken, and back home.  Now, to get the stuff we are taking to my parent's house for brunch.  A quick stop for coffee and out to Troutdale.  Oy vey. Of course, there is an accident on the freeway, why wouldn't there be? This is why we show up when we do.  We stay in T-dale for a while, have brunch, visit with the family and then it's time to go.

As we head home, I'm feeling the pressure of waking up at 6:15 and that 10.91 mile run from Saturday begin to catch up with me.  I'm like a zombie at the wheel.  I just need to make it home so I can lie down and take a nap.  Sam said he'd take the girls and dog to the river since the weather was so nice.  I was able to nap while they were gone.  Then when they came home it was go time again for mommy.  Sam cleaned our chicken coop, I played with the girls on their bikes on the sidewalk out front.  Then I asked Ayelet, 'Is that goat out?'  Then realizing both goats were roaming freely, it was time to herd some goats.  I raced back home to get some work gloves and a rope, not knowing how easy/difficult this would be and told Sam, "THE GOATS ARE OUT!"  On my way back up to the school my neighbor Katie was out because she noticed the goats were out and was going to help.  Between the two of us, we managed to get Stormy and Joey back into the gated area.  But not before noticing all 6 chickens were out as well.  What is this??  At this point, my other neighbor Peggy Sue was there to help wrangle animals.  Eytan and Ayelet helped collect chickens because they love that.  We have our own chickens and catching chickens and petting chickens is something they know how to do and they love to do it.  Eytan caught a chicken and put it back in the gate.  Ayelet chased, which is her usual course of action.  Peggy Sue caught two by the tail-feathers.  Katie got one back in and I got another in.  Eventually, all the animals were back in their rightful home.  Sam locked up the gate better than he did in the morning and we all departed.  Good thing all my neighbors are friends.

Back at home, time to clip nails and I smell something just putrid.  I thought it was Barni farting.  Then it occurs to me, it was Ayelet's feet.  Oooh, my gosh it was horrid.  It smelled like a toilet, actually like a porta-potti.  Sam said they had walked around in the Willamette.  Ugh, that explains it, that river is disgusting!  And, Barni had been thrown in and forced to swim (the dog hates water, but we love to see her swim).  Between Ayelet, Eytan and Barni they all smelled like crap.  My stomach was flipping.  The girls got baths, but Barni somehow got overlooked.  Then in the middle of the night I woke to go to the bathroom to a horrible smell in our room because her bed is in our room.  Barni has funked up our room because she did not get a bath and now she has funkdefied our room and I am being smoked out.

That was my mother's day.  This is why I say it is a sham.  From beginning at 6:15 a.m. to the next day funking up my bedroom smelling like crap, happy stinking mother's day.  

What's really important?

Last week Jane and I were planning to go out to do some route scouting for our 3/4 marathon, but by the end of the day I had texted Jane and she said she was over-heated, sunburned and exhausted and pregnant to boot so I did not feel I was in any position to tell her to get off her tuchus and go out as we had planned.  That would make me really seem heartless (even though I did want to get out there), I remember how much it sucks being pregnant when its warm.  We decided to go out the following morning before work.  I failed however to clarify if we would be going out by bike or on foot.  I showed up prepared to walk any distance in comfy Puma's and Jane's first response was, "Where's your bike!?!?" Oh, crap.  Always, always, important to clarify details such as this.  Fortunately, it was not a complete waste of our time.  We did figure out a great route which we are completely in love with. You'll have to stay tuned, i'm going to create a Kickstarter account to raise money...because this 3/4 marathon is for an important cause as well.  We had a nice walk through the neighborhood and talked about all sorts of things.  Why people are out in the middle of the day and not at work.  Whether Eytan's teacher is unconsciously suppressing females from speaking up in class.  Orange is the new black.  Lot splitting.  Gentrification.  You name it, we cover a lot of ground when we get to talking.  Eventually, we wrapped up and we both headed to work. 

Just I was thinking all was good and I would do my work and head home at a respectable hour, at around 2, I remembered I had agreed to be a running buddy with Girls on the Run, a volunteer organization to empower girls and show them they can set a goal and achieve it. Curses, I completely forgot my running clothes and I forgot my lunch because I wasn't planning on staying at work all stinking day.  Grr.  And, it was hot that day too.  Wouldn't this be just my luck.  That's when you have that moment of quickly trying to gather all your stuff to leave your work and think: do I have time to go home and get some running clothes and then make it to where I need to be by 4:15?  Every second seemed like five minutes had passed and I was moving more slowly than the last second.  What is going on???  Turn off the computer, or hibernate.  Do something, shut down mo-fo!! shut down!!  Then dash out to the car.  Google map how far this park I need to be at is located from where I am.  Hmm, is it really possible to make it to my house and risk my kids asking and freaking out about why I'm home but not staying home and why they can't come with me versus just going home and bailing on Girls on the Run or going to the park to volunteer just in the wrong clothes?  Now, I'm on the freeway and holy moly, where did all this traffic come from?  Okay, that solves that problem.  I clearly cannot go home first because there is no way I will make it back to southwest Portland in time.  Now, I'm beginning to wonder if I will even make it on time; i'm stopped in traffic, hungry, eating tic-tacs and drinking water.  Delicious.  Now my head is starting to hurt as well...wonderful.  Why did I not put those maxalt (migraine medications) in the glove box?? 

I make it to Gabriel Park on time and there were so many girls and running buddies! I was the most fashionable, wearing a black pencil skirt and yellow cotton tee with matching green and yellow Puma's from my route scout with Jane.  Of course I was wearing earrings and lipstick, because I had just left my office unlike every other running buddy who was dressed appropriately for the occasion, wearing running attire.  I figured it was more important that I show up for my young runner inappropriately dressed than not show up at all.  I am a woman of my word and if I could encourage someone else, that's wonderful.  I met my runners: Sophie and Tessa.  They were great, fun and unique.  I was concerned about my own ability to complete the practice 5k in shoes that aren't really meant for running and a bra that was not meant for running either...really, everything about my outfit said: sit at a desk and answer some questions, not run in 90 degree heat.  But, I managed to do it as did my girls.  It did take a bit of cajoling to get one of them to keep motivated, but the temperature was a barrier.  

In the end, I was so glad I volunteered and I am looking forward to running with Tessa and Sophie for the Starlight Run.  I'm glad that email from Oregon Women Lawyer's came and caught my eye and I volunteered with Girls on the Run.  I feel like I am generally able to distinguish what's really important in my life and in this case I did the right thing and I am so glad I did.  I would definitely volunteer with this organization again.  I can't wait for Eytan and Ayelet to be involved so I can run with my girls.   

The allure of a race

I had a nice leisurely morning this morning.  There was no docket to be at so I was able to put on some running clothes and go for a run this morning (alone, without Sam's dog...oh, the joy of running solo without Barni) after the girls went to school.  What a beautiful morning too.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and it was warm (which I am not really a fan of, running while it's warm, but it was wonderful.  

Now, as I sit in my office, working (for the most part) I find myself looking at the racecenter.com race calendar because a couple weekends have gone by and I am ahead of schedule with my training for a half-marathon I was planning to enter May 18, the Keizer Iris Festival Half-Marathon.  I just ran 9 miles two-weekends ago.  Therefore, I am feeling like I could probably enter a half-marathon now and be ready to go.  Granted, that's a bit ahead of schedule, but I don't think it's unmanageable.  Then, when I look at the calendar, it's almost like shopping.  Your palms get a little sweaty at the idea of entering that perfect race (at the right price...that is always a factor).  I think I found one.  The Oregon Spring Half in Aurora, May 3.  You click on the event website and learn as much as you can about that particular race.  Is this really a good idea?  Should I really enter this race?  Am I really prepared to run 13.1 miles this weekend in Aurora?  On one shoulder is a pair of talking running shoes saying "yes, you should do it" and on the other shoulder is your jammies and pillow and bed saying, "ugh, stay here and sleep in, you know you want to".  Both incredibly valid points and both incredibly true.  

Why do you draw me in so, race calendar?  What I really need is a race May 10th, the following weekend.  Of course however, when I look for a race that weekend there is no half-marathon within a reasonable distance from my home on the calendar.  Therefore, I am left to the race I have already slated to enter May 18.  I just wanted to enter another one too (can you hear the sadness and disappointment in my voice...imagine a small whiny child...I hear that sound daily).  The Oregon Spring Half is in Aurora.  The event website said it is a flat course too.  I bet it would have been pretty picturesque.  It's at St. Josef's Winery, not that I am familiar with that, but where wineries are located tend to be beautiful.  Hmm, lets click on registration information...Ouch, the registration fee is $75!  Well, there goes the allure and draw of that half-marathon.  Amazing how those jammies and pillow won out so easily.  I will still go out for a run this weekend.  A FREE, self-directed, 11-mile training run for the half-marathon I have coming up May 18 in Keizer (which, I actually need to enter...mental note to self...do that pronto: $50).  The allure of entering another race was foiled by budgetary concerns.  My palms are no longer sweaty...back to work.

Why does my elbow hurt???

All day today, I kept wondering why my elbow was hurting.  I rubbed my elbow thinking, dang, that really hurts, I can't even think what happened.  In the car on the way home, I was thinking I can't wait to get this jacket off to take a look at my elbow to see if there is a bruise or something.  Then of course, something else comes up and then it slips my mind.  But, eventually, my mom brought my girls home and I was chatting with Eytan who said something about having a bruise somewhere and that reminded me of my bruise.  At that point Sam was home and now as a family, we could compare owwees. I told Sam my elbow had been hurting all day and I couldn't think of why.  Sam asked if I blamed Barni (his dog).  Which, strangely I hadn't even thought to blame Barni --even though I usually do blame her because she grates my nerves and is the source of much angst in my life.  Uh, hmm, let me think this through now that you raise the issue.

This weekend, I did go running with Barni.  Barni, a dane-lab mix, who is not quite a year-old, and full of puppy energy, needs a lot of exercise and time playing to tire her out so she is bearable in the house.  Otherwise there is the constant threat that my foot will be up her tuchus.  All the time when I am about to go for a run Sam says, "are you going take Barni?"  I usually succumb to his request and ultimately take her with me, even though I do not want to.  She is a relatively good running dog, but just not with me.  Every time I have gone running with Barni lately, the B (take it however you so choose, but she is a female dog, so it's not necessarily pejorative to call her a bitch, it is accurate...in multiple ways)...but, Barni has effing tripped me.

Trip #1:  I went running with Barni and we were near the golf course on 28th across from Reed College.  I was looking straight ahead as I generally do, it was a slight uphill.  Barni, following her lab instinct (look a squirrel/duck/goose/bird/leaf, it-moved-I must-go-for-it instinct), or dane goofiness (should I run over here, or over there?) or puppy can't focus on anything, ran in my path causing me to trip and fall forward over her, tripping on my wrist and scraping my knee and palms of my hands.  After I got up, I was so flipping angry at the bitch, I wanted her to die and get run over by a truck.  No such luck.  And, the leash was still around my wrist so I would have had to undo the wrapping of the leash from around my wrist to save myself to sacrifice her, believe me, I could have done it if the opportunity had presented itself.  I was that pissed.  Once I got up, I felt horrible.  I'm not a crier, but I felt like crying it hurt so badly.  I was able to pull it together and a few moments later, managed to run again.  I remember thinking my elbow is killing me for several more miles because after I fell, I had rolled onto my elbow.  I thought I may have seriously injured my elbow.  It wasn't until I got home that I even noticed my wrist was a bloody, road rash mess.  Now, it has healed and looks like some horrible bruise and I am scarred for life courtesy of Sam's bitch.  Sam asked me afterwards if Barni looked remorseful.  Seriously, how does a dog look remorseful?  Oy.

Trip #2:  Once again, about to go for a run, Sam asked me if I was going to take Barni.  Fine, against my better judgment, I will take her.  Really, I take her to spare my kids from Barni acting crazy if she were left at home with them.  We were going on a weekend run along the Springwater Corridor.  This trip, was an incomplete trip.  We were crossing the foot bridge that crosses McGloughlin Boulevard.  Once again, Barni can't look forward and zig-zags when she runs with me and she got tangled up with me feet from behind causing me to lose my balance.  This time I did not trip, but I did lose my balance.  I was able to catch myself, but I could completely envision what could/would have happened if I had fallen.  We were right by all the steel and concrete footings and supports on the bridge.  I kept imagining falling and hitting my teeth or face on the bridge and needing reconstructive surgery.  Damn you dog!  I told Sam when I got home, that this was the last time.  No more, I am done running with that dog.  Barni is intentionally trying to trip me so I am not going to take her running with me again.  Sam, ever the supporter of all things Barni, questioned "do you really think Barni has the ability to intentionally try to trip you?"  Generally speaking, I don't think dogs have that higher brain function to be manipulative or to intentionally cause harm to another, however, after these two trips I am beginning to think that Barni is capable.  Partly because she hears me saying how much I want her gone, she uses the runs I take her on as her opportunity to get back at me.  Crazy sounding, I realize, but I think I am on to something.

Trip #3:  This weekend, my last and final run with the bitch.  As I head out and give the girls kisses, queue up my music and out the door.  On the agenda is 9 miles and I'm planning on heading toward Lloyd Center.  All is going well.  Pace is feeling good.  I do hate having to stop for traffic lights, but other than that, it's feeling pretty good.  I'm almost done and a little over 8 miles down and that's when she decided to stick it to me.  Barni tripped me, once again, and this time I fell onto a parked car.  I did not hit the ground at all but hit the car and rolled over it slightly.  Again, I cursed the dog and everything about her.  But, I also am too uptight about my pace to stop so I continued running for another mile to my house at which point I tell Sam his bitch tripped me and that I am no longer taking her running with me: I'm done!

So when I complain about my elbow hurting, it dons on me that the pain is from rolling on that parked car after Barni tripped me.  Yes, I should have blamed Barni for my elbow pain because she is completely to blame.