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.