clairnation

May your days be merry and bright

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 18:46:00 +0000

And may your Christmases only be white if you really, really like the snow.

Rest Day Recap: when it's so cold that even the mail carrier drives

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 23:46:00 +0000

I headed out around 11:15 on Saturday morning, unwilling to fight the jet lag to get up early, but hoping to get in 9 miles before the snow started. When I left the house it was about 28 degrees. I was wearing my tights, an Underarmour compression top, and two other layers. I had on an ear warmer band and a wool baseball cap. And big gloves. I wasn't sure I'd make it down the block.

My plan was to stick close to the house for the first few miles, figuring I could walk loops through the neighborhood to decide if I could really stay out for two hours. After two miles my nose and cheeks numbed, but my gloved fingers stayed comfortable. I wasn't exactly enjoying this walk, but I was going to do it. Aside from the miserable cold of waiting at the stoplights, I was doing ok.

The air was so cold and dry that it hurt my nose to breath, and my lungs weren't too happy either. But my asthma never kicked in, so I left the safety of the sidewalks close to home and ventured through town.

I walked through town, past shops and homes I hadn't seen in years. Past the new post office, I walked up the hill near the train station and under the underpass. I saw dagger-like icicles hanging from the top and sides, and puddles had frozen on the sidewalk. I wasted to take some pictures, but it was too cold to stop. But it still wasn't snowing, so I kept going.

At the four mile mark the flurries started, and I needed the bathroom. I stopped at a gas station where our town borders New York City, and my lips were so cold it was hard to ask for the restroom key. The bathroom heat was cranked to about 80 degrees, so I hung out in the stall for a few minutes warming up before heading back towards the house. I grabbed a Gu, and, after holding it for a few minutes, it was warm enough to eat. My granola bar, on the other hand, was pretty much frozen solid.

By this point I'd only seen about a dozen other people outside, including three runners and another walker. None of us had the capacity to chat, but we all smiled as we passed each other. We may all be a little nuts, but at least we were all having fun.

By mile 6 the wind had picked up and the snow flurries had intensified, now feeling more like small hail stones than soft fluffy snowflakes. The water in my bottle had not frozen, but the plastic bottle was so cold it was hard to get water out of it. I half-pondered calling my mom to pick me up, but I really wanted to finish. I wasn't exactly cold, but I was far from warm. My hips were tight and I couldn't warm up enough to feel comfortable, but I made pretty good time and made it back to the house just a minute or two after I'd predicted.

My 10 miler next weekend will depend on the thaw. I'm not sure I can subject myself two weekends of sucn intense cold. And I'm not a fan of walking along icy sidewalks. Though my brother did lend me a fleece face mask, so at least next weekend I can have a conversation with the folks at the gas station.

Homeward Bound

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 16:48:00 +0000

Family and cheesecake and NY pizza! I can't wait for my plane to land tomorrow afternoon.

A few drinks in, hysterics ensue

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 02:29:00 +0000

I wasn't particularly in a party mood last night as I sat on my couch contemplating the only Christmas party I had committed to this year. It's an annual event I really enjoy, and while I wanted to go and see some friends and catch up with people I only see at this party, I just wasn't really feeling it. Last year, it killed me to miss this party. Friends asked me to fly home from New York for a weekend just to attend. I wanted to want to go. So I went.

I talked and laughed and wished at least 100 people Merry Christmas. I caught up with a friend recovering from an illness. Chatted with a friend embarking on her first full Ironman in 2010. I talked a lot about my impending trip to New York and missing my family and not having seen them all year. I ate and drank and had a great time. Until I ran into the friend whose mom died last year.

I can't say that we had a bad conversation, but it was very upsetting. Add to that a few drinks and some significant holiday stress, and I created the perfect cocktail for a meltdown. I held it together until I left the party, and then I. Lost. My. Shit. In the front seat of my friend's car. At 11 pm. Thankfully, she had a box of tissues handy. Sadly, she's been through this herself.

I'm not sure that I was at all coherent through the sobbing. I don't think I could get many words out through the gasping breath and running nose. I'm not attractive when I cry, and this was far beyond tearing up at a sad movie. I sobbed. We talked. I sobbed some more. This went on for about an hour before I calmed down enough to get out of the car.

I eventually cried myself to sleep, and woke up this morning with what I can only describe as a crying hangover. I was sore and my eyes ached and they were all red and puffy. The last dregs of my mascara had settled in the creases around my eyes. My throat was sore and my voice scratchy. I got to work and a colleague thought I had a cold.

My dad died 360 days ago, and I miss him in a way that defies description. I don't even really have the words to explain how sad and lonely and angry and abandoned I feel. The intensity and volatility of my emotions is a little scary, and kind of overwhelming. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced. Some days it's easier to deal with the big, gaping hole his death has left in my life. Yesterday was definitely not one of those days. And the remaining days leading up to the first anniversary of his death and then Christmas don't look like they're going to be a walk in the park either.

I've mostly opted out of the holiday frenzy this year, and until this morning I wasn't too sure if that was a good idea. Now I know it is. I think I've had my last cocktail of the Christmas season. I know I've gone to my last holiday gathering, and I'm really relieved. Christmas cheer can suck it this year.

Hark the Herald Angels Run 12K. Or 5K. Or, you know, a nice little walk in the rain

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 03:08:00 +0000

When a friend suggested a few months ago that we sign up for the Hark the Herald Angels Run on Angel Island, I was pretty excited. What's not to like about a 12K up and down a mountain on an island in the middle of the San Francisco Bay? I've hiked this trail before, and it's beautiful. The 12K portion of a 12 and 25K race accommodated walkers, as long as we finished in 3.5 hours. I figured we'd finish in less than two.

The weather this week called for thunderstorms on the Island. I can count on two fingers the number of times I've seen thunder and lightening in the eight years I've lived here. But that didn't deter me. Neither did the cold and rain. Or the inability to see out of my glasses in a downpour. Or the mud.

I got up this morning excited to walk roughly 7.2 miles in the rain and mud and cold. I checked the website, and despite high winds and a storm warning, the race was still on. I waited in line and boarded the ferry to the Island stoked for some time on the trails. And then the race director started making some announcements: the 25K had been scrapped, and the 12K time limit was 1.5 hours. The 12:20 ferry might be the last one leaving the Island today, and we all needed to be on it.

Huh. None of that was on the website this morning. I was kind of bummed, both because I wouldn't be able to walk the whole course and because my training calendar called for 9 miles today, so I'll have to do another rain-soaked walk this weekend, when I'd hoped to only do one.

But we regrouped, made a plan, and took off on a short out and back course. Along the way we helped an ill runner, made some friends, dispensed some trail knowledge, and really had a good, wet, muddy time.

We admired the view from several angles:

And really, it can't be a bad storm if you can still see the Bridge. We walked for about 40 minutes up the mountain before heading back to the finish. After numerous stops to clear the trail for runners (because the loop course had been changed to an out and back, or everyone took the wrong trail - I'm still not sure) we made it to the finish area, but didn't even get the chance to cross the finish line. The race director sent us straight to the t-shirt pickup tent for our shirts and snacks.

Now dripping and muddy, we made our way to the ferry dock. That boat waited for every last race participant to board, and we were lucky to get a seat. But I was sad to leave behind such a mess.

Oh, I almost forgot. I spent some time on Friday night trying to track down a suitable fix to keep the rain off of my glasses. I found a snorkel mask in my favorite color combination. It even matched my race day outfit.

But it wasn't really raining enough to justify its use. And also, with the mask on, I can't wear a hat. But I think it's an idea that deserves some experimenting. Because I don't look ridiculous at all.

'Cuz baby, it's cold outside

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 01:55:00 +0000

We've confirmed around the Internet that it's cold in Northern California right now, and we're not happy about it. So, while we bundle up and try to be happy in old, drafty buildings, I present Summer, the 2009 edition:

Rest day recap, or, how I failed to account for winter

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 04:13:00 +0000

San Francisco is having a cold snap. A cold-enough-to-snow snap. Seriously. This morning there was snow on the hills at low elevation. I may have grown up in New York, but my blood has thinned and my West Coast-acclimated body can't really handle the cold. And on Saturday I had to walk eight miles in it. But at least it wasn't raining.

I walked hard this weekend, but I really failed to warm up until the last 1.5 uphill miles. I sniffled and shivered a little and wished I'd worn gloves. And I battled a headwind. Both ways. But the skies were pretty clear and the sun shining over the Headlands was really beautiful.

Now that I'm recovered from my cold, and approaching the two-month mark until the half marathon, I wonder if I may have overestimated winter. The rain forecast for the next week means I'll probably do most of my workouts at the end of the day, in the dark, instead of on my lunch hour. And I'll be pretty waterlogged by the time I leave for NY next weekend. And when I get there, it'll probably snow. Just as I'm ready to try my first double digit mile walk. And the chances of a storm on race day are pretty good. When I did the 5K portion of this race in 2008, it even hailed a little.

So I've pulled out all my cold weather gear, and I'm ready for the elements. My only real concern is my glasses. I need them to see, and without contacts, I wear them all the time. And it's hard to see through them if I'm being pelted with rain. My sister suggested I wear my swim goggles, and it's a good idea. But I'm thinking I may try to track down a snorkel mask and wear it over my glasses. I've been thinking about buying snorkel gear for my trip to Hawaii, and this way I'll really get my money's worth.

In the parking wars, apparently orthodontists have the upper hand

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 17:36:00 +0000

I was less than two blocks from home when I saw the police car cruise down my street. In my new neighborhood this is a little unusual, so I took notice. And then I saw the cop. Standing in my doorway. Trying to work my building's intercom system. It was dark out, and this was a little disconcerting.

I could hear her walkie talkie before I actually saw her, and the static only partially disguised the voices. It sounded like she was communicating with somebody about a domestic dispute. And then she saw me.

"Are you coming in?" she asked as I grabbed my keys to open the mailbox. "Do you know the people in apartments four and eight? I have to tow their cars."

Now, parking in my neighborhood is rough, and the parking enforcement unit is pretty harsh. The officers will stand at the top of the hill and, as soon as the meters on the block expire or street cleaning hours go into effect, will walk down the street doling out $175 tickets like mini-sausage samples at Costco. In a city with 20,000 parking spots for 40,000 cars, the parking wars are ugly.

But this woman was standing at my front door. Trying to track down my neighbors before their cars disappeared.

I asked her a little more about her visit: there were a bunch of spots on the next block that were temporarily a no stopping zone, and two of my neighbors' cars were parked there. The tow truck was 20 minutes away, and she couldn't reach either neighbor through our intercom system.

Her story sounded legitimate. She was in uniform and wearing a badge and was probably not trying to get into the building to kill and rob us, so I let her in. The woman in apartment four is my neighbor, and we roused her from a nap with a little bit of pounding. She grabbed her keys and ran down the stairs, and returned having saved her car.

The couple in number eight were a little trickier. The vehicle that needed to be moved was his motorcycle. But she was the only one home and didn't have a motorcycle license. And he had the keys. So, while on the phone with him, she went to stand by his bike, hoping she could pursuade the tow truck operator to wait for her boyfriend.

While the folks in number eight were on the phone, I asked about an occasion that would wipe out a block's worth of parking. Apparently, a group of orthodontists were having their annual holiday party. And they reserved the spots near the restaurant. The fact that anybody other than a construction crew could do this was news to me, but the officer said that as long as the reserved spots weren't otherwise in use - I think she meant in a hospital or school zone - anybody could reserve them. The fees are probably really helpful to this cash-strapped city, but the execution in this case was questionable. The No Stopping signs are supposed to be posted 72 hours before the event. Both neighbors parked there less than 48 hours before Friday evening, and both say there were no signs.

But, accurate signage or not, nobody's car got towed on Friday. And I'm pretty sure my assistance to the neighbor in number four negates our first meeting - when, at 1:15 am, she knocked on my door wearing pajamas, asking me and a couple of late night guests to be quiet because she was trying to sleep.

Notre Dame at Stanford

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 19:43:00 +0000

Things didn't go to well for the Fighting Irish last weekend, but the game was fun, and the tailgate was epic. It made me briefly consider a PhD, just to go to a school with a football team. But that fleeting thought was halted by my realization that I'd be unable to go to the football games because I'd be too busy working. So I'll continue to root for teams with which I have no affiliation.

From ID to throat lozenges

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 03:11:00 +0000

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"

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 17:55:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 18:03:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 16:19:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 19:12:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 04:22:00 +0000

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!

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 21:58:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 16:55:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 14:34:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 21:52:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 15:50:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 03:58:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 16:45:00 +0000

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

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 04:34:00 +0000

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.

In honor of the World Series

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 04:16:00 +0000

The grounds crew at Yankees Stadium (or at least at the old Yankees Stadium, may it rest in peace) performs the YMCA at every home game. It's one of the best shows in baseball.

Speedwork

clairnation@live.com (Clair) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 04:05:00 +0000

I love speedwork.

There, I said it out loud. The odd and uncomfortable notion of walking at a regular pace interspersed with walking at my race pace, then back to normal pace, is really kind of fun. Or at least it was today. My five minute intervals along the Bay on my lunch break were awesome. The sun was shining. Tons of people were out for runs and walks. And the Bay Bridge was closed, so that part of the city was quieter than usual. And I walked negative splits. I even, briefly, broke a 13 minute-mile pace. Today proved that maybe I really can walk a half marathon in February.

Now, my five minute intervals increase to six minutes in two weeks, and then to seven, and they ascend until I'm doing 14 minute intervals for about an hour and a half. I may not feel so happy in a few weeks, or when I'm out there in the rain, but today was fun.