From ID to throat lozenges

After my peculiar Thanksgiving day shopping trip, I got sick. I know one had nothing to do with the other, but I've been under the weather since Friday, so I didn't get out much this weekend. Today I wanted something for dinner that was unrelated to turkey, so I walked down the street to my local, and very expensive, Italian specialty foods store.

This place is usually worth the expense. They make all their pastas, the deli selection of quiches, hot dishes, salads, and meats is excellent. And everyone in there is very nice. I've been in for lunch a few times on the weekends, and they always offer free samples of their newest wines.

I grabbed a slice of the spinach fritata and a salad and headed to the checkout. The guy behind the counter offered me a free sample of their newest white wine. I wasn't going to debate the merits of taking this TO GO (which, yeah, is illegal) and I politely declined. When he asked if I was certain, I explained that it wouldn't taste good with my cold. He pondered this for a minute before asking if perhaps I wanted a glass of Prosecco. He said something about how the bubbles might be helpful for my stuffy-ness. I again declined.

He rang me up, but hesitated a few seconds in passing along my reciept. "Here," he said, "this is on the house." And he handed me a Halls cough drop that looked like it had been sitting in his pocket for several months. The wrapper was tattered and the lozenge had kind of bled through the wrapper, making it a little sticky.

Not certain what etiquette applies in this situation, I thanked him for his help and left the store. And threw out the icky cough drop in the first available trash bin.

"Ma'am, I'll need to see some ID"

I rolled the varied contents of my grocery cart up to the register and put it on the conveyor belt: avocados, bread, a few things for my portion of Thanksgiving dinner, and some citrus fruit and a huge bottle of wine for the sangria I made. I got to the front of the line and started rummaging for my driver's license just as the cashier asked for my ID.

I handed it to her. She stared at it. She gasped. She stared at me. She gave it back and said "Well, I wasn't expecting that. Maybe 1987."

Now, I had just come from the gym. I was sweaty and a little grimy and wearing old gym clothes and a baseball cap. And no makeup. But really? Ten years? I thanked her and wished her a happy Thanksgiving. And then I called my mom, because I figured I owed her a thank you for the genetics that make me look like a college kid at 32.

Thankful for a full recovery

On December 27, 2008, in the middle of the Mass my choir sings at, I got a little woozy. I saw stars and started to sweat and shiver - simultaneously - and I didn't feel too good. I stepped away from the group, put down my music, and took a seat. I felt like I couldn't quite catch my breath. A friend, figuring I was upset at the very, very recent death of my dad, sat down with me and gave me a hug. "He'll always be with you," I remember him saying.

I told him I appreciated his concern, but I wasn't upset. Or at least, that wasn't why I stopped singing. I was just not feeling too well all of a sudden. I thought I might be having a panic attack. Or the symptoms that precede a really bad migraine. But I never got that headache.

For a few days after that, I felt a little off, but OK. And then, by December 30, I knew I was in some trouble. I was running a fever. My back ached. And I just felt really, really lousy. And tired. So incredibly weak and tired. I thought maybe I had a UTI. Then a few days later a sinus infection. Then strep and an ear infection. All those tests came back negative, but I was one really sick girl. And did I mention that I was really tired?

I continued to feel lousy for the next seven months. I would have days where I felt OK, but for the most part I felt miserable. For MONTHS. I was pretty certain, when I wasn't feeling much better in July, that I'd never fully recover from this ugly bout of mono.

But today, 11 months later, I'm pretty sure I've made a full recovery. My spleen no longer hurts. I can stay awake past 8 pm and not have to sleep 12-14 hours a night. I regained all the weight I lost because I didn't have the energy to eat for several weeks. I can walk for miles at a time without concern of the days-long recovery period that will follow. I can do sit-ups. I can work a full day and then go out for awhile in the evening. I can shop for my own groceries and do my own laundry - tasks I had to leave up to delivery services or the kindness of friends for more than half the year. I'm really feeling better. And I'm so very thankful for my good health.

Of course, as I sit here typing this, I'm pretty sure I'm getting a cold. But I'm also pretty sure it won't knock me out for another 11 months.

Closed on Thanksgiving

I'll be putting on my Thanksgiving pants and celebrating this holiday with some good friends and a little turkey. It will be a very small, very relaxed celebration, and I'm grateful that I've been invited to be a part of it.

I have so much to be grateful for this year. I'm healthy. I have a terrific family and wonderful friends. I'm employed. The sun is shining through the windows of my safe and secure apartment. And did I mention that I'm healthy? And, you know, I'm not eligible for the draft.

And, thanks to the miracle of the Internet, you can now watch all 18 minutes of Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant. This is truly a Thanksgiving miracle. Enjoy your holiday!

The attack of the Goldendoodle

I rarely walk in my neighborhood in the dark. It's probably perfectly safe from a crime standpoint, but I'd rather see those cracks in the sidewalk that I'm most likely going to trip over, and my chances of doing that in the dark are slim.

But last night I needed a little air, so I got out my neon yellow, reflective layer and went for a walk. I live in a pretty neighborhood, and it was a beautiful crisp and clear night. Several of the shops and apartment buildings have already decorated for Christmas, and the lights and evergreen boughs were beautiful.

A few blocks from my house is a library. It's a large brick structure sitting atop a hill surrounded by about a blocks' worth of green space. The little park wraps around the back of the library, and is very popular with dog walkers.

As I crested the hill behind the library, I heard some rustling on the other side of the fence. I looked for a raccoon or skunk and that's when I saw it. I couldn't quite tell at first what it was, but I could see that it was huge. It also seemed to be unescorted, and it was charging towards the fence and - gulp - me!

I had no choice but to stop for a minute and stare. It was huge and shaggy, with long blond hair. Just as I started to get a little concerned, it's owner called out from behind a tree.

"Charlie, cut it out."

Charlie came galloping across the lawn and up to say hi. I'm five foot eight, and this dog - with all his feet on the ground - came easily up to my waist. Seriously, I've seen smaller cows.

Charlie, as it turns out, is a Goldendoodle. Please click that link and take a look around. They are really a dog breed. His owner said he has the gentle and friendly disposition of a Golden Retriever. Sadly, he had the hair of a slightly burnt out, formerly Afro-ed hippie. And he was huge. I have never seen such a large dog before. I'd never been slightly scared of a dog before either. But Charlie was harmless.

I chatted with his owner for a few minutes before carrying on my way, careful to watch for Charlie droppings on the sidewalk.

Hawaii or bust

For several years, I've been a little obsessed with traveling to Hawaii. I'm not sure exactly why. Maybe all the pretty pictures I've seen of friends' vacations and honeymoons. Maybe because I haven't traveled much in the past few years. Maybe because it's an easy and cheap flight and I'll never live anywhere else where it's so accessible.

Sometime last year I decided that I was eventually taking a beach and fruity cocktails vacation. Last October, as I struggled to get everything in place to take a leave of absence and hang out with my dad, I had a tearful conversation with him about how impossible it was to get everything in order. "It's not like I'm taking all this time off and coming home so we can all go on a cruise," I remember yelling at him. I think I also suggested a cruise would be a better idea than what was in store and maybe he wanted to reconsider how sick he really was so we could travel.

In December, a family friend from my hometown - who now lives on Maui - asked me to visit her when my family trauma calmed down. I could sit on the beach and relax, she suggested. And in February, when friends pitying my misery sent a postcard of the volcano they hiked while in Kauai, a hazy plan was sort of hatched. The postcard sits in the center of my refrigerator, and I look at it every day. And in the days when I was too sick to get off the couch, I spend a lo of time thinking about what I might want to do on my trip.

I want to take surf lessons, and I'm way too much of a wimp to do them in the frigid Pacific. I want to hike a volcano. I want to watch surfers who aren't covered head-to-toe in wetsuits. I want to snorkel again. I want to visit the Kona Brewery and try each one of their beers. Well, except the Pipeline Lager. I've tried and failed to enjoy coffee in my beer. I want to sit on the beach in the sunshine and watch the waves. I want to eat tropical fruit and have a few crazy adventures and really relax, if I remember how.

At first, I thought I could save most of my 16 furlough days and travel next summer. But some other things have to take priority. I briefly thought I wouldn't be able to go at all, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite get over being sad about losing my fantasy vacation.

So I've been looking at my options and my furlough-dwindled bank account. I definitely can't take all my time off to travel. But I can take a few days. And if I bunch those days around two weekends and a holiday, and maybe plan to camp for a few days, I can still get a pretty good chunk of beach time without becoming destitute. So I think I'm going to Hawaii in February.

But there's a hitch. Having never been there before, I'm not quite sure where to go or what to do. And I need some advice. Do you have a favorite place or must see/visit/do/eat suggestion? I don't have funds to bring back gifts, but I can send you a postcard.

Race Day Recap!

I stepped out the front door yesterday and was greeted with rain. Rain! The past few weeks have been sunny and warm, and the one morning I needed to be clear was cold and rainy. So I dragged out my purple rain jacket and hoped the race start wouldn't be too muddy.

By the time the 10K started - at the beautifully late hour of 9 am - the rain had stopped and I could see blue sky over Marin. But it was cold and breezy. And it stayed cold until the last mile of the race. I'm not sure if the cold helped, or if my training the past few weeks is really starting to pay off, but I rocked this race!

As a side note, this is the second race I've done in the Mermaid Series, and I did really well in the last one too. Maybe it's the series. Maybe it's my fellow racers. Maybe I'm just really motivated by the pancake breakfast at the finish line. In any case, I really like these races.

I started out concerned that I was the only walker, but figured the race directors would wait for me before shutting down the finish line, and settled into a pretty nice pace. The two-loop course from the East Beach of Crissy Field to Ft. Point is one I walk routinely, and it was pretty once the sky cleared. The first few miles felt pretty good. I felt like I was working, but not pushing too hard. I hit the halfway mark at the same time as the 10K winner crossed the finish line. The second half of the race I tried to push a little. I also had to go to the bathroom, and I think I moved a little faster knowing that the Warming Hut porta-potties were in the distance.

To this point, I'd been walking negative splits, but I stopped paying attention for fear that I'd slow down. I was on target to finish in less than an hour and a half, and I pushed hard after my restroom break. I noticed a few things during the last mile of the race:

It was now hot and sunny, and I was kind of uncomfortable in my capris and two tops.
The race volunteers were a little bored waiting for the last of us to finish.
I ran out of water in my handheld bottle at about 5 miles, after the last water stop.
Did I mention that I was kind of warm in the sun?

I was a little uncomfortable, I had lots of sand in my shoes, and I was hot. And thirsty. But I was also almost finished. I picked up the pace, smiled to the race photographer as I passed him, and crossed the finish line as the 169th finisher out of 178.

And I set all sorts of personal records. I walked that last mile in less than 14 minutes. I walked every mile in less than 14:45. And I finished in 1:27:44 (chip time) or 1:26:38 (the time on my Garmin, which does not include my bathroom break). I haven't had a race this good since last October's Bridge to Bridge. Well, really, I haven't had a race since then.

This was an awesome race in its own right, but let me put it in some perspective. Six months ago this weekend, I was going to celebrate my birthday by walking the 12K Bay to Breakers. But I wasn't well enough to do the whole race, and had to meet my friends at the more-than-halfway point and stroll slowly to the finish line. This year has been so tremendously hard - physically and emotionally. I was sad about the Bay to Breakers for a long time. For months I didn't see any progress in my fight against mono. Really, I was too tired to do any fighting. And even as I've started to feel better in the past few months, I still haven't really felt well. Until yesterday. And there are no words to describe how thankful and blessed I am to - finally - be healthy again.

I'm just not that into you

Dear Thanksgiving,

You're my favorite holiday. You and I have done some really fun things together, from trips to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade to jaunts to Seattle and trips down the coast. We've celebrated across the country, with family and friends, and with some strangers too. We've cooked and indulged and called mothers on the other coast to make sure we're cooking the turkey correctly. And we've never had a bad meal.

We've had fun. Tons of fun. And we even, on occasion, get to pull out the special Thanksgiving Pants.

But this year, I'm really just not that into you. This is sad, I know, and I'm sorry. But this year, I'm just not too excited about your bright lights and big crowds and loud pre-dinner conversation. I'm thinking about taking a break from you this year. I'm not sure about it yet, and I don't want you to worry, but I think I just need a little space.

Last year was the best Thanksgiving ever. I think its memory can tide me over another year. But I don't want to make any rash decisions and I will obviously consider you input. You mean too much to for me to casually cast you aside. I just think we need a little time apart, a little perspective.

I realize this may come as a bit of a surprise, but know that I've given this some serious thought, and will continue to do so in the coming weeks.

Much love,
clairnation

Post-baseball blues

Lou Seal graciously posed for us while my sister and I watched from the sidelines of last month's Columbus Day Parade. Or was it the Italian Heritage Parade? In either case, it was super fun. Lou Seal's probably looking for offseason engagements. I wonder if he's a sad as I am that pitchers and catchers don't report for another four months.

From the streets of San Francisco

Last week, on one of those sort of wet and rainy days, I watched a guy approach the woman standing next to him on the bus.

"Hey, nice jacket," he said to her.

"Thanks. It's a great color and cheery on these gray days," she responded.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it. Well, except my cycling safety jacket is the same color."

Editor's note: her jacket was highlighter yellow.

****

Yesterday, I'm walking back to my office after grabbing lunch. There's a crowd of people on the street, most of them dressed in business attire. And then there's this guy - older, stocky, and wearing a black, ankle length robe-like thing. With something that I can only describe as a grass skirt wrapped around his waist. But the skirt went from about mid-chest to mid-thigh, and wasn't fringy but was more like a woven straw. It was secured at his waist with a narrow black belt.

He was accomapnied by a woman in a very similar black robe, sans the grass skirt. They seemed to be on a cigarette break. I hope his straw garment didn't catch on fire.

NaBlo No Show

It's the tenth of November and, for the first time in years, I haven't already written 10 often last-minute posts in an effort to participate in National Blog Posting Month. It's a fun month and there's an opportunity to win some cool prizes just for posting every day this month.

I took a pass this year, and I'm not sure why. I wanted to participate. I seem to have a lot to say these days. And yet I never signed up. I'm tired and a little cranky, and while I have a lot to say, I'm not too sure how to say it.

So it looks like I'll be staying mostly silent these days. But I will remember fondly NaBloPoMo 2008, and the day I went out, and stayed out much later than intended, and then sat in a restaurant at midnight, cursing the fact that my phone is just a phone, and that I couldn't blog remotely. Maybe next year I will actually write and post each day all month.

Rest Day Recap, the list edition

This week's training can be summed up in a nice little list:

1 sporadically working Garmin
2 sore shins
3 great walks
4 unexplained bruises
5 nights of outstanding sleep.

Week two made me think that I may really be well again. Or at least a lot closer to healthy than I've been all year. I'm sleeping better, eating well, and aside from all the bruises (at least one of which I think resulted from a clumsy middle-of-the-night, half asleep trip to the bathroom), I feel pretty good. I just need to figure out how to stretch better, because everything is kind of tight, and my regular daily stretches aren't helping. Perhaps I need to spend more time in the hot tub.

I'd also like to get a better handle on how much mileage I'm covering each day. I have a sense, but sadly, my Garmin - which is supposed to track pace, distance, and time, among other things, isn't working so well these days. The pace fluctuates wildly (because I know I can't WALK an 8-minute mile) and the satellite reception is sometimes really poor. On Saturday, I walked for close to a mile before the watch found a satellite and was able to start tracking my distance. A lot of times it fails to kick in before I've finished a walk. This is a little disappointing, but I'm doing some trouble shooting. Has anybody else had this problem?

Next weekend I'm competing in the Mermaid series 5K. Or maybe the 10K. When I registered a few months ago, I didn't think I'd be able to walk the longer race, but after covering close to six miles on Saturday, I feel pretty confident that I could do well in the longer race next weekend. The race directors for this series are usually pretty terrific, and I'm hoping they'll let me switch my registration.

But tonight, I've got Epsom salts and some hot water waiting for me. And hopefully no more bruises.

Autumn Aspen

Taken at Northstar in Tahoe on a gorgeous, warm day. Two days later, it snowed. A lot. Autumn is brief in the mountains, but it's beautiful while it lasts.

Rest Day Recap

I took my first long training walk on Saturday - 4.5 miles along the water from Crissy Field to Ft. Point. I love this walk along the Bay, from the Marina to the tip of the city under the Golden Gate Bridge. Our weather had been just spectacular; sunny, clear, and warm, with no fog in the morning and staying clear and warm at night.

But not on Saturday. Saturday morning the fog hung thickly over the city, and my beautiful view was rather obstructed.

You can't tell, but this is the Golden Gate Bridge. Honestly.

Despite the weather, my walk was awesome. I managed negative splits until the last mile, when a run-in with a friend slowed me down a little. I did the walk in just over an hour, and I'm thrilled. I also felt terrific afterwards, and not at all tired. I've noticed that my hip flexors and IT bands are pretty tight still, but much better than they were a few months ago. Overall, my first week of training was pretty exciting.

I'm having a really hard time in other areas of life lately, and I'm excited for the half marathon training because it's given me something positive to focus on, and some structure in my day. Tomorrow is a hill workout, which most likely will be done in the evening. In the semidarkness. I really don't like Standard Time.