U s u a l l y S t e p h a n i e

Big Sky Musings

2012-02-11T14:07:00.001-05:00

I hit Big Sky this past week with the ladies from theSkiDiva.com, and while there wasn't any new snow (story of this winter), it was a blast. I've been meaning to ski Big Sky ever since my former roommate Jen said she was headed there with her family a few years ago. So when Wendy chose Big Sky as the location for this year's Diva Week West, I jumped at the chance.

Ski Divas and friends ski the Bowl below Lone Peak.

Things I learned from this week:

Skiing with people you know primarily – if not only – from the interwebs gets better every year. And it's a lot easier than online dating. You're already communicating with each other on an online message forum, so you can kind of tell who meshes with your personality and who's nutso. If your Spidey senses tell you that someone is creepy, then maybe you should trust your Spidey senses.

It's possible for 3 advanced skiers with poor communication skills to take out 4 ski patrollers while unloading from a chair lift. It's also hilarious, particularly when no one gets hurt.

It also possible to pack EVERYTHING (except skis and boots) into a carryon! Even my helmet. Another minor miracle. I stuffed socks and undies into my ski boots and bought full-size shampoos and saline solution after arriving. On the way home, I packed the liquids into my ski SportTube. I had a very short wardrobe rotation. Sorry roommates.

The last 10 feet of the tram ride to Lone Peak makes me nervous. The tram slows to a crawl and inches up a rock wall to its terminal. And by up, I mean vertical. Eek. Luckily, the tram was packed the first time I rode up, so I didn't have to watch this.

In the tram.

Booking a flight through Chicago in February was stupid. In light of snow showers yesterday, O'Hare was limiting plane landings, so my 12:55 pm flight didn't take off from Bozeman until closer to 4:30 pm. Then my connecting flight to DC also left an hour late. And to top it off, the shuttle dropped me off at the Bozeman airport at 10:30 am. I spent some quality time in front of the fireplace at the Bozeman airport.

I am no more than 2 degrees separated from everyone in Seattle. Really. Skiers from Seattle showed up at the Sunday night meet and greet, and being from DC and only knowing how to communicate by networking, I immediately played the name game. And found a connection right off the bat.

The town of Big Sky kind of looks like a movie set. See? Just like the set of the Truman Show.

Finally, I'm stoked for my backcountry ski trip in the Wallowas next month. Big Sky was a great tuneup!

Drive-by shooting of the Wallowas at the end of January.

Wednesday Flashback

2012-01-30T08:03:00.001-05:00

I know it's Monday. I'm going to tell you about last Wednesday, though, as Wednesdays have proven to be somewhat challenging for me lately.

Last Wednesday was the first day of a new morning yoga class that I'm teaching. Unexpectedly, it coincided with my first yoga teaching anxiety dream: a yoga twist on the classic "sleeping through class" dream. And, I woke up at 4 a.m. on the dot, even though I didn't need to wake up for another two hours.

The yoga class went well, but the lack of sleep and my wretched nutrition planning for the rest of the day led to actual bonking during winter maintenance running that evening. It was even a slightly easier workout this week. Last week, I merely came close to bonking and possibly crying. This week, I actually bonked but didn't cry. I'm not sure what's better.

Scratch that. I know which is better:

Not bonking is always better than bonking. Period.

About one mile into Wednesday night's intervals, my "on" segments were no longer distinguishable from the "recovery" segments. Uh oh. I rounded a corner on the gravel path on the National Mall, and I began to hear footsteps behind me. Like last week, after we settled out, I was in between the speedy gals and less speedy gals. Actually, being a group running noob, I hope I didn't unintentionally thumb my nose at some sort of group running etiquette by running, uhm, alone.

Once I realized that I was fading, I made it my mission to hold off the 4 women behind me for as long as possible. On the second to last turn, the last woman passed me. My body was done. It was all I could do to keep pace with them and hope that it would end soon. I wobbled my way through the remaining sets of core and arm strengthening drills, plyometrics, and (get this) more sprints.

Long before the last set of dips, pushups, crunches, and balance drills, I was planning my dinner: the Whole Foods food bar and whatever randomness it would offer.

Getting to Whole Foods was a minor miracle: I had to sprint to make the bus, and the sprint basically used up the paltry glycogen reserves that remained in my system. Once I got to Whole Foods and ate, I couldn't move from the dining alcove. So, I exchanged a series of texts with my pal Ben. The best parts look something like this:

Me: I wonder if a wheelbarrow can pick me up and roll me home...
Ben: That's a little overkill for someone your size.
Ben (4 minutes later): Should I send a car?
Me: It's nice and warm here. Isn't that what hypothermic people say right before they take off all their clothes and die?
Ben: Ha!
Me: I can't move. It's only two blocks home.
Ben: 2 blocks? You can do it! Just think couch, awaits!
Me: I am going to live Tweet my walk home. I'm composting my cardboard food box.
Ben:...
Me (3 minutes later): Stairs now.
Ben: Steady....
Me (7 minutes later): In building elevator!!
Ben: Snort...
Ben (2 minutes later): Hey, you forgot to grab me some ice cream and run it over here.
Me: Don't worry, I put it on the Circulator bus for you.
Me (45 minutes later, after watching an awesome ep of Law & Order SVU – Treat Williams played a former football star): I don't know if I can move to the shower.
Ben: Try to crawl. It'll be just like college.
Me: Dude, what college did you go to? [We went to the same college]
Me (5 minutes later): I don't think I'm cut out to be an endurance anything, except whiner.
Ben: Try winer.
Me: I can't move from the couch. Too much inertia.

And that, my friends, was my Wednesday. I'm happy to report that I made it through the remainder of the night (and week and weekend).

ॐ

I'm entered in a Facebook photo contest for a ski trip to snowy Whistler. Please help a mid-Atlantic girl out (I mean, come on, check out the conditions I'm skiing in!) and vote for my entry. You can a vote EVERY day until midnight, Mountain Time, February 1. Thanks!

31 Days of Adventure: Week 3

2012-01-22T23:37:00.001-05:00

Week 3 of the 31 Days of Adventure was a major fail for me. Other than Monday, which I had off from work, I basically was unable to complete any of the prompts on the day of, or at all. On the other hand, the prompts got me thinking of stuff to try out, like trapeze. In late December, I told Susannah of Running Around the World that I'd try trapeze with her, and I need to make good on that Twitter promise.

Day 16 - Monday, January 16

Witness the painting of the sky

Today's adventure is in three steps:

1. Today: Scout out a nice spot to see the sunrise.
2. Tonight: Before you go to sleep, set your alarm clock extra early.
3. Tomorrow morning: Get to your spot before the sun does.

Watch the sun rise.

Where did you choose to go? What colors do you see? If this was a familiar place, was it different than usual? In what way? If it was new, what did you love about it? Why did you choose it?

The forecast was not looking good for watching a sunrise on Tuesday morning, so I took advantage of a pre-dawn drive to the ski hill (Day 1!) to catch a photo of the rising sun behind us. I've driven this route countless times and even seen the sunrise from my rear-view mirror. Today may have been the first time that I'd watch the sun rise as a passenger.

Day 17 - Tuesday, January 17

The birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees

Today's adventure takes us outside (sensing a theme yet?): Find a nearby trail to hike and notice the nature/wildlife.

Can you identify the trees? Which ones still have leaves on them? What's growing on the ground? Are the nests in any of the trees?

For the first time in 2 weeks, I didn't do any trail running on the weekend, and so I don't didn't hit any trails.

Day 18 - Wednesday, January 18
Throw away the directions

So you think you know your neighborhood? Today we invite you to explore your hometown (and beyond). Take a drive (or a bike ride) without a map. If you're with someone, take turns choosing which direction to go when you reach an intersection.

Bonus: Park when the feeling is right and go explore on foot.

Extra bonus: For a different kind of adventure, try this on a trail. (Just remember to bring a map and compass!)

There was no time to do this today, and I'd have to drive a bit before getting someplace that I'd never explored and where I wouldn't think that my safety was an issue. But, as an honorable mention, my brother and I did drive around Newark, New Jersey, one time sans map and Smartphone, hit a detour, thought we were lost, and miraculously found the interstate that we wanted. In a residential neighborhood. Of course.

Day 19 - Thursday, January 19
More than a trillion choices

Our world is full of many colors. Have you noticed lately?

Choose your favorite color for the day and head outside to take note of all the places and ways it shows up in your world. What are the different shades? Where do they appear? Be sure to look up, down and under. Take a picture of your favorite.

If you're feeling extra adventurous, take at least five pictures of your color and share them with others.

First, I had a tough time choosing a color. Green popped into my head. Then purple. Then, I interpreted the prompt as finding those colors not only outside but also in nature, and I wondered how on earth I'd find anything living in D.C. that was not currently brown. It turns out that shrubs are still green. And there are plenty of green traffic lights in the city.

Day 20 - Friday, January 20
Get your blood flowing

Today we're going to get our bodies moving.

Try a new sport or outdoor activity today (or one you haven't done in years). Run one mile. Rent snowshoes and go for a hike. Maybe there's an ice skating rink or perfect hill for sledding near you. Ever tried curling? Bicycle polo? Skijoring?

What sport have you always wondered what it might be like to try? What are you waiting for? Go try it!

I can't get my act together fast enough to wake up and say, "Hey! I'm going to try a new sport or outdoor activity today!" and actually do it. But, I've been planning to try trapeze at TSNY once my pinched nerve disappears. Until then, it's running, yoga, pilates, and skiing for this girl!

Day 21 - Saturday, January 21
Wish upon a star

For your adventure today, set your alarm for 1:00am. Head outside and check out the constellations.

If you're in the city (or it's too cloudy) and you can't see the night sky, see how many constellations you can name. Grab a constellation book (or consult the Internet) to learn more.

Ah, urban living + cloudy skies = no constellations. I know that the only ones I can identify are the Big and Little Dippers, and Orion.

Day 22 - Sunday, January 22
Get out the play

Play outside for 30 minutes today! Need inspiration? Pretend you're a kid again and remember the outdoors is full of "natural" toys waiting to come to life with a bit of imagination.

All work and no play make Stephanie a dull girl.

Actually, today was a crazy raw day: there were a few flakes in the morning, but otherwise it was freezing drizzle. All. Day. Long. Subpar outdoor play conditions. I'm taking a raincheck on this one.

I'm blogging weekly recaps of my 31 Days of Adventure on Mondays, but if you can't wait until next Monday, I'm tweeting my daily adventures at @usuallystephani with the hashtag #31adventures.

31 Days of Adventure is crafted by

and

ॐ

Sometimes, When We Least Expect It, Stuff Just Matters

2012-01-20T10:47:00.005-05:00

I thought this post was going to be about (nearly) bonking after this past Wednesday's winter maintenance running session, but it's really about the intersection of athletic pursuits and crying. Cue Tom Hanks' character in A League of Their Own: "There's no crying in baseball!"

A little over two weeks ago, at the first winter maintenance running session of the new year, I discovered that I revved up to 90% effort on the "on" portions of intervals noticeably faster than many of the women I was running with. It had to be a fluke. They must not have been trying. Or maybe the fast women were still on vacation.

I spent the better part of the last two weeks trying to figure out how I, a mediocre distance runner who looks nothing like Usain Bolt, could possibly hang with the Boston qualifiers in the group when it came to intervals. I mean, come on. And yes, I know "about" fast twitch versus slow twitch fibers, but I promise you, my legs do not look, uh, fast twitch-like, to the extent they have a "look."

So this past Wednesday, I wondered. Would I still be "fast" over short distances? Would the other ladies try tonight?

It wasn't a fluke, but it also wasn't easy. Oy. After the workout, I nearly bonked in the grocery store check-out line and seriously contemplated squirting honey directly into my mouth.

I'm lucky that I've been slightly above average, athletics-wise, my entire life: I try stuff, don't completely flail, and come back for more. However, Wednesday was the first time I remember seeking divine intervention during a workout. After I sought divine intervention, I noticed that I was close to tears. I don't think there's a relationship between the tears and seeking divine intervention, by the way.

I haven't cried a ton when it comes to physical exertion or competition, but the times that I have are memorable:

* When I was 6, I made a tactical error at a gymnastics meet and faulted twice on the vault. The fact that I remember this is a little disturbing.

* My boat didn't make it into the grand finals of an end-of-season regatta my junior year of high school. So my rowers and I cried.

* In my early 20s, a mogul field at Mad River Glen ate me for breakfast and lunch. Plus, I was about to bonk. I stayed where I had most recently fallen and cried.

* In my late 20s, I blew out my knee – for the second time – on the soccer field. I actually heard my ACL pop.

* Two years ago, I burst into tears right before the last leg of the Torres del Paine Circuit because I picked up a stomach bug and had to backpack 11K on a few hundred calories. I didn't know whether I'd have a bed waiting for me when I finished, which was really sad.

* And on Wednesday, pushing myself on those intervals – wanting neither to let anyone behind me to pass me nor to fly and die – pretty much made me cry. It could have been the wind, but I'm not sure.

Until Wednesday night, my cries related to athletic endeavors were out of frustration, injury and disappointment. These reasons seem reasonable when I list it out like that.

I have no idea why I was on the verge of tears Wednesday night other than it mattered to me. It mattered to me on Wednesday that I push myself, in the form of holding off the runners behind me. Sometimes, when we least expect it, stuff just matters.

ॐ

How I Spent My Holiday Weekend

2012-01-18T10:06:00.004-05:00

Having taken care of errands on Friday, I was able to spend Saturday, Sunday and Monday doing the following: run, Fuse Pilates, eat, make two types of soup, eat, sleep, eat, run, vinyasa yoga, lose keys (ack!), try to stay warm and not bonk, find keys (yay!), eat, teach yoga, assist restorative yoga, eat, sleep, eat, SKI, snack, snack, snack, Iyengar yoga, eat, sleep.

Yes, you read it right! I got in Day 1 of the 2011-2012 ski season! I don't usually blog about my run of the mill ski days, but as you can tell from the pics, it was epic, you know, just like all the skiing in the U.S. outside of the PNW has been until this week. Behold! The awesomeness of skiing in the mid-Atlantic!

R-L, Ben, Becky and I head up for run 1.

Uhm, yeah.

Redefining the phrase "blower pow." Also, I swear I'm

moving my weight forward. And keeping my hands up.

ॐ

I'm entered in a Facebook photo contest for a ski trip to snowy Whistler. Please help a mid-Atlantic girl out (I mean, come on, check out the conditions I'm skiing in!) and vote for my entry. You can cast a vote EVERY day until midnight, Mountain Time, February 1. Thanks!!

31 Days of Adventure: Week 2

2012-01-16T23:11:00.000-05:00

This week's 31 Days of Adventure prompts were challenging for me to accomplish the same day. I also wasn't able to accomplish at least one of the prompts this week, either. Part of this, no doubt, is because I'm too rigidly scheduled on a day-to-day basis to add in spontaneity. If you think I'm kidding, ask me how far in advance I need to schedule meetups with local friends (hint: it's not just me)!

Day 9 - Monday, January 9

Connect the old-fashioned way

Many of us have family and friends spread all over the globe. Emails, Facebook updates, texts and blog comments are all great ways to stay connected. But think about the joy that comes from a hand-addressed letter in the snail-mailbox. When's the last time you sent a handwritten letter just to say hi?

Today, go analog and send a card (or letter) to someone far away. Or heck, send a postcard to your next door neighbor.

Find a card laying around the house. If you don't have a card, use a piece of paper, or you can get creative and make your own. Then write a nice note, address, stamp and send!

I picked up this card from NPR when I stopped by their offices in December to participate in a listener survey, and on Tuesday, I sent it off to one of my favorite NPR junkies in Oregon.

Postcard front.

Day 10 - Tuesday, January 10

Pull out a $10 word

Learn a new word and incorporate it into a conversation with a loved one or colleague.

Bonus challenge: Strike up a conversation with a stranger and use your new word.

Extra-extra bonus: Make up your own word, teach it to someone else and use it in a sentence with a stranger.

So my first challenge was finding a new word. Luckily, I play Scrabble with Jonathan online all the time, and he usually decimates me by 100 points. This is because he knows a billion more words than I do and has memorized the two-letter words. Speaking of two- letter words, what does "AE" mean?

Apparently it's Scottish for "one."

Now, here's where I admit that I did not teach a single person this new word. I just couldn't weave it into conversation, mostly because I had no idea who to use it in context. But, if you're reading this post, consider yourself schooled in "ae."

Heh. "There can be only ae."

Day 11 - Wednesday, January 11

Ideas that are twice as nice

Friends and loved ones can add an element of spice to any adventure.

Today, why not invite a friend to join you on a creative endeavor? Here are a few ideas to get you thinking: make a meal together, paint a picture, sing a song, read a story aloud, build a sculpture or script a screenplay.

How does including another add to your experience?

Oy. Way too hard for me to accomplish, unless downhill skiing on Sunday is a creative endeavor. Sorry kids.

Day 12 - Thursday, January 12

Listen to the voices in your head

Today's adventure is about tuning into those voices and getting to know them a little more.

* * *

Listen to the voices in your head. We all have them (right? Or is it just me?).

Throughout the day, they tell us what we should and shouldn't eat, who we should or should't talk to, and what we should and shouldn't do with ourselves. We don't even notice them most of the time—we just carry out their orders.

Today, stop and really LISTEN to those voices with intention—as if they're coming from a friend or family member. Which messages or instructions really stand out? Are there ones that you might need to defend yourself against? If so, stick up for yourself to that voice.

And, if there's a quiet little (or not so quiet little) voice that pipes up that you identify as your creative self—consider DOING what it asks of you rather than putting it on a shelf for another time (or worse—to be forgotten).

Neither of these is mine. I'm still a few steps away
from being a full-on dirtbag skier.

Speaking of skiing, I'm a very geographically-challenged alpine skier, and the not-so-little voice in my head has been nagging about this for a while. I thought I gave in to this fix somewhat last winter, but apparently not enough....it must be because I don't yet have the prerequisite vehicle for being a dirtbag skier.

Day 13 - Friday, January 13

The gift of vulnerability

Sometimes it can seem like we're alone in the world. And that we need (or it's easier) to do everything ourselves. We're here to challenge that assumption with today's adventure: Ask for help.

It can be hard to ask others for help. (It's usually much easier to offer to help others.) What do you need help with today?

Go ahead. Be brave. And vulnerable. Ask for help.

Does asking someone to get the tomato paste from the top shelf at the grocery store count? I'm 5 feet tall. I have an okay vertical leap, but I can rarely reach the top shelf at the grocery store.

By the way, being a damsel in distress is sometimes my M.O. Just sayin'.

Day 14 - Saturday, January 14

What do you know?

Today's adventure is about learning. And sharing. And gaining knowledge. But it's really about sharing that new knowledge with others.

Choose a topic you know nothing about (maybe you've been curious about this topic for awhile) and find information or an article about it. Read it. Then tell someone what you learned.

This past week, I've been trying to figure out whether there was a physiological difference between sprinters (runners) and the rest of us, other than more slow twitch fibers. Lucky for me, in 2009, researchers at Penn State published the results of a study where they found that a part of sprinters' Achilles tendons was shorter than the rest of the general population, causing the calf to contract more slowly and generate greater power. Or something like that. Anyway, that's what I explained to Jonathan over IM, while he was kicking my butt in Scrabble (see above). I'm not sure I really understand what the lever arm of the Achilles tendon is. If you do, please let me know.

Day 15 - Sunday, January 15

Embrace the elements

Feel the weather on your face today. Whether it's snow, rain, sun or wind, go outside and expose your cheeks to whatever the day brings. In the winter, it's easy to bundle up and bury our chins in scarves.

But today, at least for a few minutes, wake up your soul and your skin by basking in the day's weather. Be present to the weather today and pay attention. There's nothing like a little weather to keep you in the moment.

Hey, I was thrilled it was sunny and over 30˚F when I headed out for a run this morning. Just as thrilling is that I have discernable eyelashes in this photo. They're usually stubby.

I'm blogging weekly recaps of my 31 Days of Adventure on Mondays, but if you can't wait until next Monday, I'm tweeting my daily adventures at @usuallystephani with the hashtag #31adventures.

31 Days of Adventure is crafted by

and

31 Days of Adventure: Week 1

2012-01-09T08:30:00.002-05:00

The first full week of 31 Days of Adventure has concluded, and here's what happened:

Day 2 - Monday, January 2

Notice the little things

It's often easy to overlook the little things as we go about our days. Today's adventure invites you to pause and notice the littlest things: The way the light comes in the window. The rise and fall of your chest as you breath (or maybe the breath of whoever else is in the room). The patterns made by the trees. How do the little things add adventure to your day? What have you discovered that you missed before?

More often than not, I'm drinking a cold soy chai or water out of a pint glass that looks like this. I've never noticed that bubble in the glass before...

Day 3 - Tuesday, January 3

Remap your route

Ever feel like you’re totally stuck in a rut and doing the same thing day in and day out? For your daily adventure today, consider a different means of transportation to work (or school). Can you bike? Walk? Take a bus or carpool? Or, if you can’t do that, take a different (maybe more scenic) route and see what you discover.

Having lived and worked in the same places for a number of years, I've already taken the most direct routes between the two. But I rarely take this bus in this direction, especially on a day that much of the city's inhabitants are returning to work after the holiday break. Today, two pre-schoolers got on the bus at my stop with an adult, and another passenger decided to launch into an 8-block soliloquy on why there should be school buses for city kids.

Day 4 - Wednesday, January 4

Stretch your brain

It's often said that knowledge is power. What have you learned recently? For today's adventure, learn something new.

Today the Capital Weather Gang tweeted that although the radar for areas north/northeast of DC showed precipitation, the anticipated snow showers or flurries weren't making it to the ground. Why? Because it's "virga." Sigh.

Day 5 - Thursday, January 5

Get foodie with it

The colors and aromas of ethnic cuisines from around the world can open us up to all kinds of adventure. For today's adventure, try a new food.

I wasn't able to get to this adventure on Thursday, but on Saturday night, I hit a local Burmese restaurant and had Ohno Kaukswe, ~~Apollo's long lost cousin~~ an egg noodle, broth, and coconut milk soup. It was pretty delish!

Day 6 - Friday, January 6

Rock out to a new beat

Break out of your regular playlist and listen to new music today. Check out your local venues and go see a new band. Change your Pandora station to something you've never heard of. Listen to an opera in its entirety.

Oh man. My taste in music is stuck somewhere in the 90s. Or 70s. Or somewhere in between. About all I'm good for is karaoke. After a Twitter-based plea, Amy and Deb came to the rescue. Amy recommended The Jezabels. I pulled them up on iTunes and listened to a few samples. Not bad. Deb recommended (via Paige) African Essentials on Pandora. This is where I admit that I have never used Pandora. I'm a lost cause.

In the end, I stayed true to my NPR roots. I pulled up the music page to see what was going on. Lo! Primus on World Cafe! I don't think I've ever listened to World Cafe. So I did.

Then I realized that even if I've never listened to World Cafe, Primus was definitely in my familiarity zone. So then I streamed The Mix: The Sounds of globalFEST.

Done. Not my usual playlist.

Day 7 - Saturday, January 7

Heighten your awareness

Today is all about adventures for the senses. Focus on all your senses today. What does the air smell like? Can you pick out particular sounds in your environment? What car is rattling? Which one has the bass booming? What color is dominating your landscape today?

It hit a whopping 68˚F today, so I actually got to wear a tank top on a run, in January. Feeling 68˚F air on my arms in early January while at "home"? A little weird for someone who has lived her entire life above the 38th parallel.

Day 8 - Sunday, January 8

Expand Your Circle

Have breakfast, lunch or dinner with someone you don’t know well. Whether it’s the colleague you’ve been meaning to get to know, or an acquaintance you made at a recent social event, take the opportunity to spend time with someone outside your normal circles.

I met some gals back in December, when the new Athleta store in Georgetown was hosting a winter running clinic. One of them organized a group run for this morning, making it pretty easy for me to have a meal with people I don't know well, or at all, for that matter. After nearly 7.5 miles, we pulled into a Mexican grill for some breakfast. YUM. I'm pretty certain that I could live on just breakfast sandwiches and good conversation.

I'm blogging weekly recaps of my 31 Days of Adventure on Mondays, but if you can't wait until next Monday, I'm tweeting my daily adventures at @usuallystephani with the hashtag #31adventures.

31 Days of Adventure is crafted by

and

Ski Less, Run More?

2012-01-06T10:28:00.000-05:00

Faux snow report from the Squaw website.

To state the obvious, I'm not skiing at Squaw today. Earlier this week, I cancelled my flight to the Biggest Little City in the World – the always lovely Reno, Nevada – and instead of spending last night in a flying tin can, I camped out on my couch after some Fuse Pilates (where I ran into boot-less Emily – how awesome is that for her??!), watching Grey's Anatomy with a Sweetgreen grain bowl in hand. My 2011-2012 ski season is off to a ridiculously slow start.

Years ago, I was quoted in my college newspaper as referring to myself as a hermit in the winter. It's still true. I dial back on running, ski instead, and practice more yoga. I have little desire to run in the dark, so the crazy scheme works out. Except when the snow doesn't fall. Or even when it's too warm to make snow.

In past winters, when I did run, it was only two times a week until it started getting light earlier in the mornings in late February (only to have daylight savings time thwart me a few weeks later in March). One night a week was with the Washington Runhers winter maintenance program, and the other run was a 4 to 6-mile easy run on Saturday or Sunday, whichever day I wasn't skiing.

This year, I feel the urge to take advantage of the mild temps and run both weekend days – one trail run and one road run – in addition to the mid-week Runhers winter maintenance. I've got my work cut out for me if I plan to run a trail race in late spring (hello! I hate hills!). And, I'm totally getting my money's worth with the winter maintenance program. The coach figured out my name the first week that I showed up and has been promptly calling me out ever since. That's a good thing, right?

So there it is. Mother Nature has dictated that so far this winter, I'll be running more.

Kicking Off 31 Days of Adventure

2012-01-02T08:58:00.004-05:00

Day 1 - January 1, 2012

Today's adventure is all about seeing things in a new and different light. Take a photo of something familiar from a new angle: up close; upside down; from above; from underneath.

What do you notice? What's interesting? Unique?

Ever since ~~Honey I Shrank the Kids~~ this article roughly a week ago in the Wall Street Journal about ridiculous job interview questions, I've actually thought for more than a milli-second about what it would be like to be shrunk to the height of a nickel (and stuck in a blender).

"You are shrunk to the height of a nickel
and thrown into a blender. Your mass is
reduced so that your density is
the same as usual. The blades start
moving in 60 seconds. What do you do?"

Um, right. That's apparently a question that Google job applicants are asked, should they make it to the interview phase. No, I don't work at Google. But, I was inspired to see what things looked like from the inside of a refrigerated cheese counter when I saw what was in store for Day 1 of the 31 Days of Adventure. What's most noticeable and interesting, respectively, are the light and reflection on the glass. And that I'm now craving some cheese...

I'm blogging weekly recaps of my 31 Days of Adventure on Mondays, but if you can't wait until next Monday, I'm tweeting my daily adventures at @usuallystephani with the hashtag #31adventures.

31 Days of Adventure is crafted by

and

Incipio: 31 Days of Adventure

2012-01-01T11:58:00.001-05:00

Happy New Year!

Yesterday, the Next Level ski camp at Squaw next weekend with Jessica Sobolowski-Quinn, Ingrid Backstrom, and Michelle Parker – three women who absolutely rip on the slopes – was canceled. I'd been looking forward to this camp for months, but sadly, there's just zero snow at Squaw, and I don't think the cancellation was a huge surprise to anyone glued to the snow reports. Alas. Coincidentally, my dreams of skiing big lines with some rockstar women was snuffed by email a few minutes before my first email from the gals at 31 Days of Adventure. What's that cliché? One door closes and another opens or something?

I signed up for 31 Days of Adventure last week without knowing anything about it other than a few women who I follow on Twitter were doing it and an intentionally vague blurb on the website. The brainchild of Amy at Expand Outdoors and Lydia of Wander Lydia, the gist of the project is that while some adventures are larger than life, others are right in our backyards. It's a reminder that we don't need to take overnight flights to the end of the world – or to Squaw, I suppose – to feed our quests for adventure.

To that end, 31 Days of Adventure is posting an adventure a day to kick off 2012, or you can get your daily adventure in your inbox. Here's what showed up today:

Ah, a change in perspective for the New Year!

Intentions for 2012

2011-12-30T09:17:00.011-05:00

Intentions. That's yogi talk for "goals" because I'm not into goals (sorry, Lululemon). You can skip ahead to read my 2012 intentions, but even if you're not into "woowoo" (or whatever onomatopoeic sound you use to refer to "out there") yoga, I urge you to hear me out as to why "intentions" make more sense than "goals" for many of us:

In Daniel Gilbert's Stumbling on Happiness (which I only read the first few chapters before getting bored), the author argues that we suck at figuring out what makes us happy in the future. I agree. In 1999, I created a five-year professional plan – a great leap forward, career-wise. I met my goal. I got to where I wanted to be at year five, and it was meh. The journey wasn't bad, and I scored some sweet work travel (Saipan anyone?). Overall, reaching my goal positioned me for where I am over a decade later, somewhere I never thought I'd be. When I reached my goal, I was thrilled, but the goal itself was not right for me.

If we don't know what type of person we'll be in five years, how are we supposed to know what will make us happy in five years? If you do know, please send me your crystal ball.

So, as fluffy as it sounds, I'm more about the journey and positioning than setting goals. I want to be positioned so that if someone asks me to do something that sounds cool, I can jump right in. Invitation to fill a last-minute opening on a hut-to-hut ski trip? I'm in. (This actually happened a week ago, and I'm stoked!) Need someone to fill in on your overnight-relay team? I'm your gal (especially if it's Hood to Coast! Or Cascade Lakes.).

Also, every time goal that I've had for road racing has been sort of arbitrary. When I started running, my goals were things like "finish a 5K in under 30 minutes" or "10K in under 60 minutes" because I was stuck on how we categorize time. The fortuitous thing is that they were completely reasonable goals for me. Phew.

So, here are my some of my intentions for my extracurricular activities in 2012, and the steps I've taken towards making those intentions happen:

* Run my first half marathon. I'm registered for the Richmond Half (technically the McDonald's Half Marathon, but who knows what that is??), on November 10. It's possible (though not likely) that I'll run a half before then, but racing 13.1 miles will happen no later than November 10.

* I would love to have the diligence to train for a finish at Richmond in under 2 hours (another arbitrary time goal). On the other hand, I'd be very pleased if I could go under 2 hours in a half marathon before someone goes under 2 hours in a full. Heh. Who says I don't set reasonable ~~goals~~ intentions?

* In the process of training for the sub-2-hour half marathon finish, I intend to PR in the 5K distance. My last 5K was in September 2007, and I clocked 26:46. If a sub-2-hour half marathon is going to happen, a 5K PR will, too. Also, I've been wondering whether I took my running hiatus during my peak, or whether I can still pick up speed. This is one way to find out.

* I would also like to volunteer at the race expo of a major local race. To this end, I'm registered to volunteer at the Friday evening packet pickup for the April 2012 Credit Union Cherry Blossom 10-Mile Run.ª I've already done the course volunteer thing and got snarled at by then-D.C. Mayor Fenty (whole other story). Way to lose a vote.

Handing out water at the 2008 Dextro Tri to someone faster than the mayor.

* For years I've been contemplating running a trail race, too. So, maybe 2012 is the year I'll run a trail race. I'm contemplating the 10K distance of the North Face Endurance Challenge when it comes to the DC area in early June. This particular race may be tricky to fit in. Hopefully it works!

* I'm going to ski a line, look up and say, "Holy shitake mushrooms, I just ripped that!" Or some other variation. Of course, the 2011-2012 ski season is off to a spectacularly slow start.

* I'd also like to ski the Gulf of Slides on Mt. Washington. I don't really care if it's in 2012 or 2021. This could happen in May, maybe? It all depends on the conditions. A life intention, really, not a 2012 intention.

* Backcountry hut ski trip. This wasn't originally one of my 2012 intentions as it's also more of a life intention, but right before Christmas, I was unexpectedly invited to fill in for someone who dropped out of a trip to the Wallowas (OR). Woohoo! I'm telling you, positioning, not goal setting, is the key.

* I'd like to teach a regular, weekly sunrise yoga class. There's something special to me about early-morning yoga. My paperwork has been wending its way through a gym for several months now...fingers crossed that it'll be complete early in the new year, and that they'll have an opening to teach a 7am class.

* I'm going to stay injury-free and healthy. Despite heading into 2012 with remnants of costochondritis and a recurring pinched nerve, both on the right side of my body, I am optimistic.

* I'd like to sleep 8 hours a night. Theoretically, this is the easiest thing to do on my list, but I'm horrible at getting enough rest.

Really, these are about it.

ª I've actually already hit a snag because the unexpected hut trip coincides with when I've registered to volunteer at the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler expo...it bums me out that I'll have to cancel being an expo volunteer.

Hey, Are We on the Appalachian Trail?!

2011-12-24T16:34:00.007-05:00

Merry Christmas!

For a Christmas Eve day treat, my brother and I bagged the highest peak in New Jersey. Actually, we drove up there. I know, utterly thrilling. Contain yourselves.

No snow? Go trail running on cross country ski trails!

Our plan: run the Monument Trail, or what turned out to be our bastardized version of it (sorry trail planners), at High Point State Park. Within half a mile of starting the run, which we decided to do by heading south-ish first, my brother noticed that we were following white blazes, and not the green/red ones (how timely!) we had originally started following.

Red and green blazes we were supposed to be following.

"Hey!" he called out. "Are we on the Appalachian Trail?! We're going to wind up in Georgia!"

Uhm, yeah, so here I was, lost on another trail run. For the record, I rarely get lost on hikes. When running, though, I get caught up with trying not to bite it – which I did anyway 2 miles later – that I miss less than obvious blazes. So that's how I found myself, on a lookout tower on the Appalachian Trail...

We made our way back to the trail junction where I got derailed and then rerouted ourselves back onto the Monument Trail. Woohoo! Back on track! Oh, damn, a glacial lake...what direction do we go around this thing? Really, it could have been better marked. Just saying. After figuring out which way to go, the trail crossed a paved park road and headed back into the woods. That's we started hitting the hills.

Hills are not my strength. Looking down at my shoes and hoping that it ends quickly is. So that's how I noticed some neat ribbons of ice on the ground that my brother just plowed through.

Ice ribbons.

We tooled around for about an hour and crossed paths with two other parties, and we were the only runners. Now we're toasty warm and waiting to see what the evening has in store! Hope you and those dear to you are enjoying a wonderful holiday season.

On Being a Re-beginning Runner: Ghost of a Former Self?

2011-12-20T09:08:00.001-05:00

There's a gap between 2009 and 2011 in my past race results, and it's because I took that time off. First I was burnt out. Then, when I was ready to come back, I got injured. To top it off, I'd been doing structured training programs for only 3 years. Then again, maybe 3 years is the shelf life of structured training programs for those of us who are merely type A-minus – rather than type A – personalities.

Anyway, this fall, I returned to running. The Army 10-Miler was my target race. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise: returning to running after a multi-year layoff isn't easy, especially when your (and by "your," I mean "my") cardio training for 2 years consisted solely of intermittent hiking and commuting to work. Yeah....

Hiking in the North Cascades gets you rad views like this.

And depending on your constitution, it may be more difficult to return than it was to start in the first place. On the bright side, just as it was possible to start in initially, it's possible to restart.

I always hear about elite runners who take a hiatus to have a child (actually, more often than not, they're running through pregnancy) or who take a break from running due to injury, and then they come back in a short period of time to win a marathon. But what about the rest of us, who weren't that honed to begin with?

Here are five things I learned about being a re-beginning runner (or anything else, really, as I've given some of this advice to yoga students).

Start with a clean slate.

During my hiatus, I downhill skied a bunch and practiced even more yoga asana. I didn't do a ton of cardio, unless you count the ski conditioning class I did in Seattle last year (and the hiking and work commute). When I came back to running in April 2011, I was a ghost of my former running self, and it was frustrating.

Seasoned yogis may be familiar with the phrase "beginner's mind." Sometimes when you've been doing something for a while, it's easy to forget how difficult it can be for a newbie. When re-starting, have a beginner's mind, rather than an attitude of "pick up where you left off." Remember how fantastic it was the first time you hit what seemed to be dauntingly long run? Embrace that mentality. Sure, you once ran that distance with ease. With training, you can do it again. And it'll feel awesome.

Set attainable goals.

Manage expectations by setting attainable goals based on where you are now. This is probably standard whether one is beginning, re-beginning, or seasoned, but I think it's harder to stick to for a re-beginner because having a clean slate is difficult to maintain, and you so badly want to return to where you were.

Be patient.

Maybe starting in the first place was easy. Maybe you have great genes and can pick things up again quickly. Lucky you. But for me a lot of my frustration was due to things like a two-mile run taking forever and a lifetime to feel somewhat easy. I mean, they used to be easy, right? Why aren't they easy now?

I had to learn to give myself a break when running didn't return to being "easy" overnight. The reality is, two miles at a fast clip wasn't easy the first time I laced up my shoes over a decade ago. Plus, I was younger then, and as far as finding time for training goes, I had way fewer obligations then, too. I had to give myself time to fall back into the habit of executing a structured training program. It'll happen with diligence.

Be kind to yourself.

The first mile of a 9-mile run this summer – my longest run to date – felt crummy. When the run still felt like crap after 3 miles, I shelved the remainder of the run until the afternoon. I had a lot of down days like this when training for the Army 10-Miler this year. I fretted, for sure, and even beat myself up about it, but in the end, I'm doing this for fun.

Running is supposed to be fun.

Remember why you are re-beginning.

When the going gets tough, remember why you decided to pick up running again. To finish unfinished business? To get in shape so you can be there for those you love? You didn't need to re-start running, so what brought you here?

Finally, as I end many of my yoga classes, thank yourself for ~~coming to the mat~~ lacing up the shoes. I know I did.

Photographic Evidence of the Jingle All the Way 8K

2011-12-13T21:46:00.000-05:00

This pic from the Jingle All the Way 8K on Sunday may qualify as the least flattering photo that I've posted on the interwebs of myself. As much as I love the JL Racing shirts, a holdover from my days of coxing crew, they ride up and make my already short torso look mini. Or maybe I've just been wearing the wrong size. It's entirely possible. But, really, if the photographer got a full-length shot, I'd look really, really tall. Team Sparkle skirts have that effect, you know. And yes, I run in Grover mittens.

Love the phantom fingers to the right.

2011 Jingle All the Way 8K Recap

2011-12-11T22:34:00.002-05:00

Today was the first time I'd run a race with a friend and also gone in looking for more of a training run than spectacular results. Done and done.

After my panic yesterday morning with the local NPR traffic reporter declaring multiple times that the 8K was yesterday, today's hitches were significantly less stressful. The race organizers had written on the race website that racers could cross the start line as late as 9:15am, and after my running pal's last-minute early-morning waffling (from "Well....I think the right decision is not to run" at 7 a.m. to "Okay, I'm on the train" an hour and fifteen minutes later), I figured we'd be using that 15-minute grace period.

I jogged a little over a mile to my office, testing out layers and carrying post-race gear in a pack. As I neared the White House, I saw more and more of my brethren – runners wearing Santa and elf hats, wearing reindeer antlers, and decked with boughs and holly – jogging toward the start line. A running shoe company could have filmed us all and deemed it their holiday message, and it would have been rad.

From the warmup, I figured out that I was wearing too many layers on top, even though I was carrying a pack. I was now down to a tank and my trusty long-sleeve JL Racing shirt, a holdover from my coxing years....so glad I'm retired from that, by the way.

It turns out that the race start was delayed by roughly 30 minutes to re-set the race course after miscommunication with MPD. Whoops. Capital Running Company promptly sent us all emails this afternoon apologizing about that, too. Good for them.

We waited in a patch of sun on the side of Freedom Plaza, uh, unoccupied by the Occupy DC people, and wondered what the holdup was. By the way, the same ridiculous NPR station that kept saying the race was yesterday had also said it was 24˚F when I walked out the door today. Seriously, I have no idea if the station is ground-truthing any of its reports, but I'm sure it was over 30˚F. And no other weather website was reporting temps under 30˚F in D.C.

Even having spent the better part of the last three weeks sick, I still had some expectations for this race beyond finishing. My secret undisclosed plan was to run at an 11-minute mile pace and to pick it up in the end.

We ran at a very even and manageable pace, and because I've run this 8K course several times and had someone to talk to, I wasn't even annoyed at the multiple loop-de-loops. Miles 1-2 took just under 22 minutes. Miles 3 and 4 were again in the 21 to 22 minute range. The last stretch – where we caught up to another gal rockin' a green Team Sparkle skirt – was probably at nine and a half-minute mile pace.

This was by no means my fastest 8K. It may have been my coldest 8K, and it was the first in a green Team Sparkle skirt. And, I got in a good, long conversation from a great friend (who may or may not have contemplated telling one of her children "Mommy's going for a run!" before driving to the Metro to head into the District). Heh.

Santa drew me in for a tight hug. That was a little weird.

Result: 53:03/10:40 pace.

'Twas the Night Before My Next 8K...

2011-12-10T17:32:00.005-05:00

Bib pickup for the Jingle All the Way 8K

'Twas the Night Before my next 8K,

And all I could think was "Well, come what may."

I had great intentions of picking up my pace,

But now I'm not sure how I'll fare in this race.

Hacking coughs and sore ribs thwarted race prep,

I pretty much had everything short of strep.

And yet ever the optimist, I'm going to run,

If I don't freeze my bum, the race should be fun.

Actually, I was laying in bed this morning, half awake and listening to the radio, when the traffic report came on. There were Metro delays on some section of all four lines. What else is new? Then the traffic reporter said something that made me shoot out of bed: "And, there's a race going on downtown today – the Jingle All the Way 8K – so watch out for road closures down by Freedom Plaza. It gets underway in about an hour."

Wha--? I thought the race was tomorrow! I panicked and frantically ran around the apartment, and grabbed the race t-shirt to check the race date – December 11, 2011. They wouldn't distribute a shirt with the wrong date, would they? Then I checked the calendar, phone, and Google Calendar to make sure that today was, in fact, December 10.

Ever the yogini, I took a big inhale.

Exhale.

But, the traffic person on WAMU kept saying that the race was today. In fact, a little after 9am, she even said the race was underway. Sigh. This wasn't exactly like the radio broadcast of the War of the Worlds, but I did wonder whether I'd slept for 30 hours straight.

After I was sufficiently convinced that I had not missed the race, I headed over to the new Athleta store in Georgetown, where Runner's World's Kathleen Jobes hosted a winter running clinic and led a short run along the C&O Canal towpath. I'm happy to report that the ribs feel okay. And that Kathleen and the other women at the clinic were awesome. Oh, and that another woman from the clinic is running the 8K tomorrow as well.

With Kathleen Jobes of Runner's World

In light of having inflamed rib cartilage this week and being sick for the 2 weeks before that, my only goals for tomorrow are to cross the finish line and to have fun.

Costochon-wha?

2011-12-06T13:37:00.002-05:00

I spent the weeks before and after Thanksgiving hacking up a lung, putting a major crimp in my intention to pick up some speed for the Jingle All the Way 8K this upcoming Sunday. Since November 15, I have run a whopping 13 miles, and the kicker is that immediately after a couple laps around Jamaica Pond up in Boston on Sunday, I felt a sharp pain on the right side of my chest/ribs when I inhaled. I spent the rest of Sunday ignoring the pain – maybe it would go away by the time I flew back to DC. Believe me, if the pain was on the left side, I would have hightailed it to an ER. Instead, I was thinking I'd cracked a rib or something.

Yesterday, I picked up a bottle of vitamin I, having kicked every existing bottle of it in my apartment and office. I felt somewhat better. Finally, today, I went to my doctor. It turns out that right when I thought I was on the mend and could actually run again, I managed to get costochondritis.... a fancy way of saying inflamed rib cartilage that connects to the sternum (costosternal joints). Lucky me.

I'm just going to take a guess here, but I don't think this bodes well for significant aerobic training. Or some Pilates (like the dreaded Roll Up). Or even twists in yoga.

What does this mean for me?

It depends on how well the ibuprofen decreases the pain and inflammation. In theory, I'm pretty sure that I can run/breath through the pain, but I'm now old enough to know that that's ~~sometimes~~ often stupid and prolongs healing. Realistically, I probably shouldn't do speed work tomorrow night with the Washington RunHers gals as I was planning. This bums me out. I haven't run with them in several years, and I need to get back onto the speed work/winter maintenance train. As of right now, though, I plan to be on the 8K starting line on Sunday. I'm convinced the 3+ week layoff has really affected my fitness, and hopefully I can get in a run or two before Sunday to build confidence.

In the meantime, I plan to do wall sits and planks. I'd been toying with the idea of doing supplemental leg strengthening for ski season, with random wall sits. Then last night, Coco of Running With Perseverance blogged about her plan for December damage control: sweat every day, plank a day, and drinking 64 ounces of water a day. I already do 1 and 3, but with a bunch of Pilates and core strengthening out of the equation, a few planks a day seem reasonable. So, we'll see how the wall sit and plank(ing) regimen go.

Wall sits and planks, anyone?

Perils of Inaugural Events

2011-12-04T16:35:00.000-05:00

Up until approximately 10am yesterday morning, when I checked in on Twitter for the first time that day, I was pretty much lamenting that I'd be out of town and unable to run the inaugural Hot Chocolate 15K in DC produced by RAM Racing. If anything, the jacket for all runners was pretty enticing (although, now I hear that it's mediocrely constructed).

But to be honest, after having previously participated in other large-scale inaugural events, I've become very wary of them, and I even took that into account when contemplating the venue for my first half marathon next fall.

Even though I was nowhere near National Harbor yesterday, the first inkling I had that something was amiss with the Hot Chocolate 15K – or at least its marketers – was that on November 2, a few days after the Marine Corps Marathon, I received this email:

I'm not a marathoner.

The problem with this picture is that I've never registered for a marathon. Not just this year. I've never registered for a marathon ever. Not only that, but also I didn't register for a Marine Corps anything this year. I haven't studied a day of business, but I'm pretty certain that a core lesson in Marketing 101 is not to mix up the purchased mailing lists. At best, it makes the event organizer look unorganized....and who wants to pay a decent chunk of change to run an unorganized race?

The inaugural Annapolis Half Marathon, another race I contemplated for this fall, also suffered some scathing reviews. When I learned about the race, its organizers had changed the date of the race after registration opened because the organizers had not taken into account a conflict with a home Navy football game. I don't know the story behind the date change/football game conflict, and it's entirely possible that the 2011 Navy football schedule changed after it was first published in January 2011, wreaking havoc on the half marathon date. But it still doesn't look good. Thankfully, a friend talked me out of registering for this race, mostly because it was too soon after the Army 10-Miler, and I'm prone to burnout.

Finally, my personal experiences are with the inaugural running of the Ragnar Relay in 2008 and this year's Tough Mudder at Wintergreen. The truth is, I don't think either of these fall into the same category as the Hot Chocolate 15K or Annapolis Half in terms of participant dissatisfaction.

For Ragnar, like many other overnight relays, each team's start time is based on the team's estimated 10K paces, with I think the intent to have slower teams start first and faster teams to chase them, and all teams bunching up toward the end. Except, after one rotation, my team had passed every team in front of us, and we ran the next 100 some odd miles alone. We came into unstaffed checkpoints because the race organizers didn't anticipate teams to come through as early as we did. The finish festival was still being set up when our team became the first to cross the finish line. The massage therapist was hesitant to give me my complimentary massage because she didn't realize that we had finished. And a final note on the timing: when I took my team's estimated 10K paces, I estimated our finish time within 15 minutes, and all my spectator friends were there. I'm not a stats geek; I was just a girl with Microsoft Excel.

As for the Ragnar course, a significant portion was on the C&O Canal towpath, but portions were also run on pretty busy roads. On those roads, I'd never felt so unsafe as a runner – or bike pacer – as I did that night. To their credit, Ragnar has since re-routed some of these sections.

And Tough Mudder? My biggest gripe is that I truly do not think the publicized "2.5-hour average finish time" for the Wintergreen course is accurate. I also thought it was really weird that there was no email alerting participants as to their start times, particularly because some had changed a few weeks before the event (mine had). On the other hand, on event day, no one was checking to make sure we were in our assigned heat...

Sure, I've complained about courses, logistics (the constantly changing start/finish areas of the Army 10-Miler), and the number of participants (Army 10-Miler, Lawyers Have Heart). But, for what it's worth, my issues with the inaugural DC Ragnar Relay and Tough Mudder mostly arise from an out-of-town race management company's unfamiliarity with the terrain, literally. I'd like to hope that the Hot Chocolate 15K and Annapolis Half organizers suffered from the same unfamiliarity, but things like changing the race date after registration has opened and addressing the wrong target audience reflect sloppiness to a different level.

Over the years, as race registration fees increase, I've learned to be more picky about the races I do, especially as a middle of the pack runner. While running a new race can be exciting, it's looking like a lot can go wrong, and it'll be part of the equation for me in the future.

On the Cusp of Greatness

2011-11-29T23:26:00.011-05:00

I recently had to rate myself as an alpine skier for an upcoming ski camp. I ~~hate~~ strongly dislike rating myself. For running, there's something tangible and objective (if not aspirational) to provide. Skiing? Unless you're watching someone ski, it's just a bunch of words, from the skier's perspective, and they're almost always wrong.

At least once a year, a thread on TheSkiDiva.com discussion forum pops up where someone asks how to describe her skiing abilities to acquaintances, ski shops, potential instructors, and anyone else who asks. Usually, the discussion starts with a complaint that people with a Y chromosome are prone to exaggerate, and the discussion then becomes peppered with words like beginner, advanced beginner, intermediate (low and high), advanced (also low and high), and expert, with lots of blurring in between. At some point, someone will write that she's an expert in one part of the country but advanced in another. Then another person will assert that a skier of a particular level skis a certain type of terrain whereas a skier of a higher level skis another type of terrain. Somewhere along the way, someone will point out that she doesn't want to ski that type of terrain, so why should a higher skill level mean that you ski that type of terrain? From there it gets even messier. Cliff Notes version: One person's intermediate is someone else's advanced. Blech. I can't deal.

Right before I went out to the Pacific Northwest in mid-2010, I thought long and hard about my skiing ability and how I'd express it to people who didn't know me but with whom I'd want to ski, or at the very least, to those who would be mounting and adjusting my bindings.

I came up with "On the cusp of greatness."

It's intentionally vague and open to interpretation.

I realize this is not particularly helpful when placing me in an ability level for a camp, for instance, but the guys in the ski shop in the middle of August loved it. Then again, I was a woman in a ski shop in the middle of August in the northern hemisphere. Never mind.

What does it mean to be a skier on the cusp of greatness? Well, first it means that I know and ski with a ton of awesome skiers who rip. They're the great skiers.

To be on the cusp means that – having spent my formative years skiing on the ~~Ice~~ East Coast – I tragically suck in powder. It means I can pick my way done a lot of terrain, but it's not always pretty, and at least one person has been known to pull out her lunch and eat it while waiting for me. It means that sometimes on steeper terrain my turns have no plot (no middle). It means that I occasionally brace myself with my downhill leg, rather than bend it. It means that I have to repeat to myself "Only one first turn" at the top of a run and on every turn so that I link my turns on steeper terrain. It means that I totally bite it on some groomers at the end of the day, when I'm not paying attention.

It means that I'm often pleasantly surprised when I see a photo or video of me skiing.

It also means that even though I've been assured by numerous people that I'm the right level for this camp, I'm still nervous about it, especially because at the rate the northeast ski season is going, my first day this season could be the day right before camp.

It means that if I ever have a season consisting of more than 20 days, I might get over the cusp and be one step closer to being great at skiing. (Or, maybe it's just someone else's idea of mediocre....)

On Gratitude

2011-11-22T20:31:00.003-05:00

I've been fighting a doozy of a cold for a week. It's like a foul weather system caught up in a stationary front: I don't feel any better than I did immediately after my fever broke last Wednesday, but I haven't worsened, either. I'm just hacking up a lung and sniffling. Please don't tell me this is the new normal.

I've sort of freaked out about how much this cold would set back my fitness. Taking a deep breath is difficult. I haven't run since two Mondays ago. I've canceled 4 runs, 3 yoga classes (including tonight) and 1 Fuse class that I was going to take. I also canceled one yoga class that I was going to assist. Nevertheless, I dragged my type A-minus self to a reformer class on Thursday, and on Saturday, I did back-to-back sessions of yoga and Fuse...and then promptly took a 2-hour nap to recover from the latter – gah. I get it. You win this round, cold.

I don't often blog about yoga because everyone's experience is different, and there is no "right" or "wrong" experience in yoga. But being bedridden for the first time in a long while gave me time to slow down and reminded me that I don't always practice what I teach. Earlier this month, I taught a couple of community yoga classes at Quiet Mind, and during the most recent class, I invited (yogis invite fellow practitioners to explore stuff, one reason being that teachers consider themselves as guides, and the real teacher resides within the practitioner...but, enough about philosophy) the class to consider something that they're grateful for, and use that as their intention for that particular class. Gratitude, not surprisingly, is a common theme among teachers in November. Anyway, despite inviting students to set an intention for their practice related to gratitude, I haven't really thought much about what it is that I'm grateful for. [Confession: while you're setting your intention, I'm meditating on putting together a cohesive class, or at least hoping you don't notice if it's not cohesive. I've already given up on distinguishing between left and right.]

Well, now I have considered what I'm grateful for:

My health and that of those around me. Sure, this cold sucks, but it'll be gone in another week (hopefully). However, without my health, everything else would be a lot more challenging. And, for what it's worth, my family's health is pretty decent, too. Yay!

Family. Yes, mine drives me nuts. But, on some level, they get me. My brother has been known to humor me by skiing with me in the Catskills. Back in the 80s, I did my first sun salutation with my mom. And this year, for the first time, my dad saw me run a road race. This year, I also got to spend time with some family members whom I haven't seen since the early 90s, including a cousin who lived less than an hour away from me when I was in Seattle.

Friends. It's been such a treat to go hiking, skiing (man, some of the old skiing posts are just lame), and just driving across the country with pals, old and new.

This American Thanksgiving, I'm grateful that I'll be able to schlep my sick self onto an Amtrak train to go see my family. I'll worry about the precipitous decline in my fitness another day.

~~ Namaste ~~

Half Marathon Contemplations...

2011-11-18T08:01:00.016-05:00

Sometime after the Army 10-Miler and while stressing out about Tough Mudder and otherwise waiting for ski season to start, I started seriously contemplating doing a half marathon in 2012. 13.1 is a new distance for me and probably the longest I'll go because I can't fathom training for a full marathon without a personal chef and an extra 4 hours in the day. I probably would also need a clone. Major props to everyone who can organize their lives to make marathon training work!

My half marathon musings looked something like this (half baked, I know):

So, what exactly was I thinking? A few things:

1. I want to run a well-organized race. I can't impress this point enough. I once ran a short-distance race that piggybacked onto the longer distance marquee race, and ever since then, I've dubbed the race I ran the ignored step-brother (or sister) of the marquee race. At one point, the road race went cross country. Not kidding.

2. Training can't interfere with ski season. I have a distorted view of the duration of my ski season; nevertheless, this knocks out races from December to May if I want at least 8 weeks to build mileage and speed.

3. I really, really want to finish in under 2 hours, or within spitting distance of 2 hours, mostly because I don't feel like moving non-stop for much more than 2 hours. This is going to be HARD WORK for me. I need a course that can give me the best shot at doing this, like a flat course (aka, not B'more).

4. Along those lines, I am such a heat wimp that I need cool weather conditions, too. This tosses us into late October/November if in the mid-Atlantic.

5. Small-ish race. My longer distance races have been Bay to Breakers and a few Army 10-Milers. I'd like to try a race that has, I dunno, less than 30,000 registrants. Preferably under 10,000.

6. Supportive crowd. Even if it's new, in Annapolis, I may be able to glom onto my friend Wendy's family. Philly's established, but even still, I may be able to con my former roommate Jen into forming a cheer squad. Richmond...well, I'd have to rely on it being an established race.

7. Transportation. Sure, I have a car. But who wants to drive a few hours after racing 13.1 miles? Is Amtrak a feasible post-race transportation option? It sure would be nice to sit back and let the mind wander...

On a whim earlier this week, I went over to the Richmond website, curious as to whether a date had been set for next year's half/full marathon. November 10, 2012. Then I discovered that the entry fee for the half was a ridiculous $45 through Thursday. Seriously. That's a steal.

I consulted my calendar. Don't laugh. I'm actually already booked for both the weekend right before and right after November 10, 2012.

I consulted the masses.

I consulted the Magic 8 Ball.

I registered for the 2012 McDonald's Richmond Half Marathon on November 10, 2012.

I told the Transporter, whom I drove across the country with in 2010, that I had registered. She registered, too.

Let the wild rumpus begin!

Tuesday Thoughts

2011-11-15T19:48:00.001-05:00

My apologies for appearing as though I've fallen off the edge of the Earth (it's flat, right?) this month. After mocking my pals for bailing on Tough Mudder because Life caught up with them, Life caught up with me. Good thing I don't rely on blogging for a livelihood, otherwise I'd be eating Saltines to stay alive.

But, during my online absence, I met a handful of tweeters and bloggers in real life, like Justin of Justin Runs DC (we work in the same building), Chloe of 321delish (she took a job at possibly my most favorite place in the world to buy yoga pants, Athleta, which just opened a store in Georgetown), and Amy of, well, her namesake website/blog (given than I [heart] skiing, I was utterly delighted to meet her). I also bumped into Emily of Sweat Once a Day about a gazillion times at Fuse Pilates, where she continues to amaze me with how hardcore she is even while nursing a broken foot. It's always a treat to meet the person behind the blog/tweets!

Speaking of Fuse, I've been doing a little blogging for them as one of their ambassadors. This means that I'm there a lot, not that I necessarily have ~~Emily's abs~~ any actual core strength to write home about! Other than the ability to do a few Roll Ups, of course. Never fear, though, they're telling me that I'll be able to knock out a few more Roll Ups by the end of the year.

More importantly, I got in some early season ski stoke, starting with a screening of this year's WME flick and the purchase of a new Dakine ski pack (which was naturally followed by an immediate test packing of said ski pack). I also planned some ski trips and got some info on a camp that I've been eyeing for the past year: the Next Level Freeskiing Camp at Squaw with pros Ingrid Backstrom and Jessica Sobolowski-Quinn in early January. I didn't attend last year because I was hitting the Roxy All-Star Snow Camp up at Whistler that weekend, which was my first all-women's camp and an awesome experience. I'm psyched to go to the Squaw camp this year but nervous as to whether I'm a solid enough skier...gah, the perpetual challenge of rating oneself as a skier!

Finally, I started sketching out some running goals for next year that I'm pretty excited about....stay tuned!

So You Wanna Be a Mudder, Eh?

2011-10-31T07:18:00.006-04:00

Since completing the Virginia Tough Mudder on Sunday, I've been called hard core, impressive, a tough chick, a rock star, a hero, and — much to my delight — invited onto a zombie apocalypse survival team. All of this is appreciated, but despite the hype on the Tough Mudder website, I really think that most people can – and will – finish.

I'm not by any means an expert on mud runs, but a handful of friends came out of the woodwork asking me about my experience and wondering whether they should register for (or, enlist, in Mudder jargon) and complete a future one.

Answer: Yes.

Seriously, if you're interested enough to ask others about it, it means that you're intrigued and probably means you'll take the time to get up to speed physically if you're not already there. Or, at least, you have the intention to do so, right?

The following are the types of questions I was asked, and my responses...

How do you feel about it?
Tough Mudder marketing does a phenomenal job of hyping the intensity and difficulty of the experience. I spent much of the week beforehand freaking out about it. I wasn't kidding when I wrote that if I thought about it too much, I felt like puking. My Facebook feed wasn't helping any, either.

And, based on his knowledge of Tough Mudder, my super enthusiastic photographer/human SAG wagon wrote, after the fact:

To be honest I thought you were gonna get creamed, so nice work. :-)

Thanks, guys.

It turns out that I had a good day. Plus, I was wearing a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt that had extra mojo. One day of Tough Mudder in sunny, 50 degree weather in the mid-Atlantic (ie, not high altitude) was not the most physically or mentally difficult thing that I've ever done. I don't mean that to sound obnoxious. But because race organizers kept repeating "it's not a race," I didn't feel the need to kill myself. Although, I may have yelled at the Artist at one point that we had 6 minutes to cross the finish line in under 4 hours. Maybe.

I think how one finds the experience depends on (1) having the physical fitness to propel oneself roughly 10 miles, and still have enough left in the tank to complete (or giving a good shot at) the obstacles and assist those around you, and (2) one's ability not to get psyched out by the obstacles or discouraged by having lakes in your shoes after a few miles.

I feel that my experience in the backcountry is one of the things that made Tough Mudder very manageable once I saw what I was in for. Weather and personal experience aside, the camaraderie and the Tough Mudder pledge also played a huge role. Before the start of every wave, this guy (he was awesome, by the way) standing in the center psyched up the crowd and then led us through the pledge:

As a Tough Mudder I pledge that…

* I understand that Tough Mudder is not a race but a challenge.
* I put teamwork and camaraderie before my course time.
* I do not whine – kids whine.
* I help my fellow Mudders complete the course.
* I overcome all fears

As a result, I got major assists on a lot of the obstacles, like the walls, ice bath, and hay bales. In retrospect, what I regret the most is that because of my size, I wasn't able to pay forward the physical assists. I did, however, come up on a guy that looked like he was struggling on the last uphill and encouraged him.

As far as event administration goes, there was confusion leading up to the event. During online registration, I (and everyone else) chose a date and time of start. About two weeks before the event, Tough Mudder posted start times. Mine was different than what I had wanted, and I didn't know about the change until I went onto the Tough Mudder website one week before the event. I thought it was weird that Tough Mudder didn't alert me that start times were posted, never mind that mine was not what I had chosen. In comparison, it's customary for road races to send out an email with your bib number and race info about a week before the event. I'm sure the Tough Mudder reasoning for this is that they're tougher than a road race.

Did you injure yourself (other than bruised knees)?

What bruised knees?

No. I accomplished my goals to have the same number of bones that I started with and all my ligaments attached. And no concussion. I mildly hyperextended a thumb while working my way uphill under a set of cargo nets because I slipped on mud and caught myself on my thumb. Other than that, it's bruises on my knees, the inside and outside of one thigh, elbows, and, oddly, my midsection, either from going headfirst on the water slide or from repeatedly folding myself over the Berlin Walls. By the way, if I wasn't wearing tights and a long-sleeve shirt, those bruises would have been scraped up bruises. Sexy.

I did see people limping on the course every now and then. There were a lot of loose rocks on the hills, so it's possible that people rolled their ankles. In looking at pictures on the Tough Mudder Facebook page afterward, I saw handfuls of people who had real (not mylar space blanket) arm slings and posts from people saying they dislocated shoulders on the slip n' slide. Given that there were approximately 14,000 people registered to participate in two days of Tough Mudder in Virginia, those are pretty good odds.

Would you recommend it? It looks like so much fun!!!

I haven't done any other mud runs, so I have no idea how the Virginia Tough Mudder compares to anything else. If you're looking into a mud run, be aware of the distance and terrain. Venue makes a difference in terms of course difficulty. Doing a 1000' vertical climb at Squaw or Whistler (where TM is headed in 2012) is a lot different than doing a 1000' vertical climb at Wintergreen, for instance. Think of it as a 10 mile run/hike (only the fittest among us are actually running up the fall line) with obstacles in between. Channel your inner child/GI Joe character.

Was it fun?

I'm stuck between two rows of huge hay bales and smiling. Yes, I had fun.

Would you do it again?

I don't have a burning need to do another one, but if a friend asked, I would. I had a really good experience. In fact, my experience was so good, I'm not sure it can be re-created. It was sunny, and I had a personal photographer/human SAG wagon carrying half of my energy chews and gels and a down sweater for when I was freezing my butt off, and giving me beta on things like the Electroshock Therapy obstacle (not the Smoke Chute, though - I was caught as off guard as everyone else). Given all that, I don't have a need to re-up solo, but if a friend were doing it and asked me, I'd be in.

How did you train for it?

I ran the Army 10-Miler two weeks earlier, so I was already trained to run 10+ road miles. I supplemented the running with a regular yoga practice and core strengthening at Fuse Pilates (full disclosure: I'm a Fuse Ambassador).

Did you bonk ?

Organizing Honey Stinger energy chews, on top of the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt.

I am notorious for bonking, so thankfully, I did not bonk at Tough Mudder. I hydrated like a mad woman the evening before and day of Tough Mudder. I usually drink water until roughly one hour before a race, but on Sunday, I chose Nuun as my hydration beverage. I didn't carry a water bottle or hydration pack on the course, although some people did.

There were a few aid stations on the course, but unlike road races, it was less clear how far into the course – distance-wise – the aid stations were located. All of them had water and one had bananas, but it was unclear whether they would have energy gels. I could have sworn that I read someplace that they would have ClifShots, but I didn't see any, and now I don't see that written anywhere on the website, either. My favorite energy chews and gels are made by Honey Stinger, and I stuffed one snack-sized Ziploc of chews into a pocket. I was very lucky to have a human SAG wagon —a friend spectated and took photos on the course — and I gave him the rest of my chews and gels (although he pilfered one) to hang onto. Other than the major climbs and descents, he was almost always within shouting distance of me and the Artist, so I could more or less grab chews or gels whenever I needed. I can't even begin to explain how awesome this was.

What was the toughest part for you?
Staying warm after the first couple of obstacles.

Anything else?

Expect to get muddy!

For all the hype on how difficult the event is, the Tough Mudder organizers also emphasize that it's "not a race but a challenge" and focus on camaraderie and fun. I haven't quite sorted it out in my head yet, but to me, these emphases seem a little at odds with each other. Calling something über difficult and touting that only 78% of the people finish (not sure how they figure that one, since no one's keeping track and I saw maybe 2 people with D-tags) has the tendency to bring out competitiveness. And yet there's the bit about helping your fellow Mudder/leave no one behind...See what I mean?

That said, I would recommend doing this with at least one friend and checking the competitive streak at the door. Unless you have an early start and get out with a pack of like-minded people who want to and can go fast, you're just going to get stuck waiting to get onto an obstacle. And, if you're a guy — especially a guy who looks like he can lift people — you'll likely find yourself assisting at least one person over an obstacle.

Conclusion
If it's on your radar, go for it!

Getting Dirt on the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt

2011-10-28T07:30:00.019-04:00

In case you missed it, I wore a pink sparkly skirt at Tough Mudder this past weekend.

Still sparkling, even after 9+ miles and 20-whatever
obstacles, most involving dirt and a fire hose.

It was a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt, and it was awesome. I was most impressive with how lightweight the skirt was AND how well it sparkled, despite the dirt. Who knew? The Girls at Team Sparkle did, that's who.

I first learned about Team Sparkle and the two traveling skirts this summer, and I knew that I had to get in on the action. Like the awesome jeans in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, the skirts travel around the country, in this case from race to race, passing good mojo to whoever happens to be sporting them. The hot pink skirt unexpectedly arrived a month before Tough Mudder, at a particularly low point of my Army 10-Miler training cycle. It was the perfect pick-me-up!

Alas, it being a traveling skirt, after having my day in the mud, it was time to send the skirt off and pass along its mojo. So long, Traveling Skirt! I'll see you on a race course!

Laundered and ready to go!

Check out where the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirts have been, and get in on the action!

Tough Mudder Virginia Recap: It's Just Cross Training, Right?

2011-10-25T07:44:00.005-04:00

Back in June, when a friend said that he and the Artist were registered for Tough Mudder, I looked on my calendar and saw that I had a cross training workout planned for October 23. No kidding. I am that much of a nerd that I have cross training planned 4 months in advance. Anyway, Tough Mudder = cross training, right?

Let's clear up the goals aspect of things first. I wanted to:

(1) Survive
(2) End the day with the same number of bones that I started with, all my ligaments attached, and with no concussion
(3) Have fun
(4) Finish with the Artist
(5) Finish in under 3 hours
(6) Finish in under 2 and a half hours

I survived, ended the day with the same number of bones that I started with, all my ligaments attached (even the reconstructed one - yay!), and with no concussion, had fun, and finished with the Artist in approximately 4 hours and 10 minutes.

Random aside, the website said that the course was 9 miles and would take an average of 2.5 hours to complete. I'm pretty skeptical of the 2.5-hour average, and if the mile markers on the course were correct, it was at least 9.25 miles. Not whining. Just sayin'.

The Artist and I had Sunday, 9:40am starts. After LIFE took over for everyone else we knew who had signed up, another friend – Ben – super generously offered to drive and spectate. This turned out to be an awesome decision.

At breakfast at the hotel Sunday morning, we came upon a guy wearing a mylar space blanket arm sling who had done Tough Mudder the day before. No offense to the guy, but a space blanket sling is still a space blanket sling: it means that he didn't injure himself enough to receive frontcountry medical care, which was enough to reassure me that I was going have the same number of bones and ligaments that I started with.

Local traffic to the parking lot in a winery's field was intense, but we quickly got onto a shuttle bus up to Wintergreen. Then it was off to sign in.

Items 1 & 2: Signing Death Waiver and
Entry and Participation Agreement.

Item 3: Pick up race packet by last name.

Item 4: getting face marked. This was a little weird because I had
just seen Les Mis at the Kennedy Center last week, so the number
racing around IN my head was, uh, Jean Valjean's 24601.
In three part harmony.

Item 5: No puking.

We also discovered at sign-in that as a spectator, Ben could come on the course as long as he didn't interfere with the obstacles. This turned into photo op gold and the perfect opportunity for a human SAG wagon so I didn't have to stuff all my Honey Stinger chews and gels into my tights.

Start line in the distance.

The Artist and I mugging for the camera
one last time before heading to the start.

After a pump-up talk and the National Anthem, our wave charged onto the course.

The dudes lead the charge. See ya at the ice bath, boys!

The Artist and I make our way up the first of many jaunts up a hill.

First obstacle: Berlin Walls.

Multiply this downhill run 3 times. Maybe 4.

The Girls at Team Sparkle gave me the awesome opportunity to wear a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt for Tough Mudder. The Artist was jealous and wanted his own. The woman in front of me at another obstacle was wearing a black skirt and was envious of the sparkles. Another woman at the top of a hill called me out, along with a cheer for girl power. It was pretty awesome.

Next obstacle: Jumping over hay bales like I do this every weekend.

I'd like to think, by the way, that it was my guaranteed to succeed strategies that pulled me through in some of these spots.

Another up, another down, then pick a log from the pile.

Props to the chicas who carried proper fire logs.
I swear this one was 3% my body weight.

The Artist killed it on the Funky Monkey bars.
I, on the other hand...

...took a drink. Yum.

We then dashed into the woods, I think, and came out at the Twinkle Toes obstacle. All those years of gymnastics training paid off.

Coincidentally, I hated the doing balance beam in gymnastics.

I think from here we went up some mountain biking trail, through some "bog" and then we wound up at the "Chernobyl Jacuzzi" obstacle, aka, dumpsters filled with ice water. I think in general the boys psyched themselves out on this one...

Guy to my right dropped the f bomb as I went in...

...then I couldn't get myself out. Nor could two guys.
It took THREE people to get me out.

On the Spider's Web cargo nets. The woman in front of me also was
wearing a skirt, but she lamented her lack of sparkles.

Next up: Slip n' Slide. Nice refreshing water at the bottom...

...sometimes I wonder about myself.

Crawling through muddy tunnels. Gotta love it.

Ducking under logs...

...followed by my now customary head-first exit.

LOTS of ups on this course. Right up the fall line, too.
Glad I didn't have to deal with elevation.

Also a lot of dirt. On my Team Sparkle skirt.

I actually got really, really cold. Like shivering cold. Not long
after this photo, Ben told me he ate one of my Honey Stinger
gels (which he discovered he liked) and gave me his down sweater.

Now a traipse off to the golf course. I was too cold to notice
the scenery, but it looks pretty here!

Somewhere along the way, we hit another obstacle:
going under and over logs.

Another couple of bales of hay...

The course then took us through the golf course and ~2 miles of paved golf cart road. Along the way, there was a mini tire/fast feet obstacle (it's what I think of when I think football combine, but that's probably not what a combine is).

Then, after a port-o-potty and aid station break, it was the second set of Berlin Walls, set higher than the first.

MANY thanks to the guys overhead pressing me.

Last mile, right?

From here it was a jaunt back to the ski area and then the Mystery Kick Ass Obstacle: the Smoke Chute.

I hate spiders.

Love the TLC from the volunteers.

This obstacle was pretty freaky. It's essentially a slide that free falls for as far as I was willing to peak over the ledge and then levels out. Not gonna lie. This obstacle took my breath away. And, I hit the back of my head on this one and then got shot out of that slide so fast and far, I skidded off the plastic tarp. Some poor woman who had made it to the top of the ladder had psyched herself out and was in near hysterics. I hope she sorted it out.

Being small had a LOT of advantages in this...

All concentration on the Shake n' Bake. If you ever wanted to
feel like a breaded piece of meat, this was your chance.

All right, more cargo nets - this time, the Turd's Nest.

The grand-daddy of all obstacles: Everest.

Not my finest attempt. But the Artist nailed it on his second try!

Not the John Woo moment that I was hoping for,
but close enough!

And then finally, the moment of truth: the Electroshock Therapy obstacle. Ben gave us great beta after watching a bunch of people go through: keep you hands up so they don't get tangled in the live wires. Yeah, I wrote LIVE wires.

The Artist and I kind of look like Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid...

...with a happier ending. I wound up getting zapped about 3 times.
Each time, I yelped "Ow!" as though I was annoyed, mostly
because I don't think my brain realized what was going on.

Unfortunately, no epic finish line crossing, mostly because I chased after Ben as he ran through to set up for the shot. Obviously, I left my brain in the ice bath. If I can snag some pics off the official event photog site, I'll post them.

Dos Equis? Yes, please!

Cheers! And muchas gracias to the man behind the cameras!

Virginia Tough Mudder Goals

2011-10-21T11:05:00.000-04:00

I've been generally confused as to who will be heading south tomorrow with me to tackle Tough Mudder at Wintergreen Resort. I mean, I know that I will be in a car driven by a pal who generously offered to drive and spectate. I just don't know if other people – like the Artist who originally registered with me – will be joining us in the hotel and car.

I have a 9:40am Sunday start, and I'm not going to mince words:

I'm terrified.

I can handle mud and 9 miles of traipsing up and down ski slopes. It's the falling from obstacles and possibly busting an ankle (like all these people on Facebook are saying happened at the Pennsylvania event when one of the pools wasn't deep enough) that scares me. And these photos they posted earlier this week:

This only looks innocuous. Click on the photo
to see the rest of the album.

Sunday's forecast is temps in the mid 60s and sunny after hitting a low of near freezing. It'll be chilly at the start, no doubt. I know it sounds ridiculous because I'll be muddy and drenched, but I'm glad I'm not doing this in the rain.

The National Weather Service forecast as of today.

Plus, the shining sun will really let me kick this one in style with the hot pink Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt. Woohoo! Go Team Sparkle!

I feel like I need to add a "KAPOW!" or "ZOWIE!"
In Comic Sans, of course.

Despite my over-thought guaranteed-to-succeed strategies, I really am nervous about this. Like, nervous enough that if I think about it too much, I feel like puking (this has been going on since Monday, by the way).

My main goal is to survive. This goal is followed closely by "emerge with all my bones and ligaments attached," to paraphrase a woman I know as Volklgirl. Actually, now that I think about it, I should add "...and with no concussion." After that, it’s to have fun. And finish. With the Artist, if he's there. For kicks, I’ll throw in finishing in under 3 hours as another goal, and in under 2 and a half hours as the cherry on top, although realistically, there will be points when I'm just hanging out waiting to get onto obstacles, and I'll be with a couple of pals.

Then I plan to drink the Dos Equis that's handed to me at the finish line like a rock star. And breathe.

Damsel in Distress! (aka, Strategies for Tough Mudder Virginia)

2011-10-17T07:30:00.035-04:00

This weekend, I head to Wintergreen Resort in Virginia with a couple of pals to take on Tough Mudder. Actually, life caught up with my friends in the last month, and I have no clue what their deals are. I don't even know our logistics of getting there, which is starting to take a toll on my type A-minus personality. I do know that even though I panicked almost immediately after registering in June, I now have guaranteed-to-succeed strategies for the event, once I get down there, of course.

Confession: I've never done a mud run, never mind a Tough Mudder. I'm a girl among men, bringing a knife to a gunfight.

Per the Tough Mudder website:

Total Course Length: 9 miles
Elevation Gain: 1,250 feet
Expected Completion Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes

Here's a rundown of the twenty-five obstacles, in the words of the Tough Mudder Virginia website, followed by my guaranteed-to-succeed strategies. In case you don't notice, I plan to milk the fact that I am going to be wearing a sparkly skirt from Team Sparkle. Chivalry can't be dead, can it?

On to the obstacles and my strategies!

Obstacle 1. Braveheart Charge – Charge into battle with 5000 other mudders. Battle cries essential. "Obstacle" is a misnomer because really this is the start of the course. That being said, I got this one covered. I checked Google Maps and the Wintergreen trail map, and I think we start off charging down a black diamond slope (Tyro, for anyone following along on Wintergreen’s trail map).

Obstacle 2. Devil’s Beard – Try as you might, you will get caught like a fly in a spider’s web time and time again in our annoyingly low cargo nets. Puhleaze. I’m five feet tall. This'll suck more for the people around me than for me.

Obstacle 3. The Gauntlet – Prepare to feel like you’re at a South American political demonstration as you get high pressure hosed from both sides as you run through Wintergreen’s halfpipe. I plan to run in the middle of a pack because getting hit with a high pressure hose will upend me.

Obstacle 4. Hold Your Wood – Make like a lumberjack and drag a log up a ski slope and then try to keep your footing on the way back down. Yeah. I’m walking this one, unless it really is up and down the tubing park like it seems in the map. But I think it's more likely that the TM map is approximate, and it’s really up and down another black diamond slope, Eagle Swoop. Also, I hope I don’t get a splinter.

Obstacle 5. Twinkle Toes – Make your way across a log bridge without falling into a freezing cold lake. As long as no one’s bouncing behind me and my legs aren't jelly, this one should be manageable...I used to be a gymnast.

Obstacle 6. Funky Monkey – Monkey Bars were easy when you were five, but you’ll need to hold on extra tight to these. Some of them have been greased with butter and you’ll get a shock when you fall into an ice cold lake. I've been training for these, although it'll still suck. I have no strategy, other than to hang on for dear life and hope that no one falls on me after I take a dip in the ice bath.

Tough Mudder training, right?

Obstacle 7. The Log Bog Jog – Because running through a swamp isn’t tough enough, you’ll have to hop over or under a series of fallen trees. I have an irrational fear of R.O.U.S.’s, so there better not be any hanging out in here.

Checking for R.O.U.S.'s in Patagonia.
Why do they always send the snack-sized person first??

Obstacle 8. Chernobyl Jacuzzi – Jump in and out of an icy mixture of assorted carcinogens. The additional limbs you’ll grow will surely help you on later obstacles. I think these are fruit flavored ice baths. Well, maybe not fruit flavored. But, who knew that getting tossed into New Hampshire waters in April after winning college crew races would be training for the Tough Mudder?

Obstacle 9. Underwater Tunnels – Bob underneath the obstacles on the surface of the water as your head shrinks to the size of a walnut. More cold water? I'm bringing goggles and grabbing onto the ankles of the person in front of me. Beware.

Obstacle 10. Greased Lightening – Have some fun sliding down on your ass, real Tough Mudders go head first back into the pond. This is going to be rad. Headfirst, it's like skeleton, but without a sled.

Obstacle 11. Boa Constrictor – Crawl through a series of pipes that may also force you into freezing, muddy water. More goggles and hanging on to the person in front of me. I hope my Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt doesn’t get dirty!

Hot pink Team Sparkle skirt, with Spicy Mustard backcountry.com sticker.

Obstacle 12. Berlin Walls #1 – Show team spirit and camaraderie as you work with other Tough Mudders to scale our series of 12-foot high walls, tough enough when dry, but really fun when wet. My failproof strategy here is to be a damsel in distress. The Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt will help with this effect. Someone will then pick me up and toss me over the walls. All of them.

Obstacle 13. Death March – Feel the burn early on as you charge straight up this red graded ski run to the top of the mountain. Clearly the British Special Forces wrote this because we don’t have red-graded ski runs in the US. I'm hoofing up this one. It looks like it’s up Lower Wild Turkey, Turkey Chute (double black) and Upper Wild Turkey on the trail map. Or the woods.

Obstacle 14. Cliff Hanger – Grab onto anything you can as you scramble up and over the hills of this muddy mountain track. ...another damsel in distress moment.

Obstacle 15. Kiss of Mud – Eat dirt as you crawl on your belly under wire set only 8 inches from the ground. As long as I don't overeat, it's entirely possible that I can shimmy under wires set 8 inches above ground. Then it looks like we run around the golf course or development or something.

Obstacle 16. Log Jammin’ – Don’t bang your head as you navigate over and under a series of logs. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right...

Obstacle 17. Spider’s Web – Fight your way up over not one but two cargo nets. The view from the top is nice, but we think it’s best you get down the other side as soon as humanly possible.

Obstacle 18. Berlin Walls #2 – Yet another set of brutal walls. Don’t slip off the top! See strategy for #12. Alternatively, I will stand there and tell people that the obstacle is dwarf tossing.

Obstacle 19. Shake n’ Bake – After being hosed down by the fire department, crawl through sand. If you have ever wanted to feel like breaded chicken (or sushi crunch), you’re welcome. I think by this point my arms will feel like spam musubi. I have no strategy here, other than thinking happy thoughts.

Obstacle 20. Mystery Obstacle – Obstacle Design Race Day Surprise. Expect Something Truly Bad Ass. Well...I guess I’ll just wing this one.

Obstacle 21. Kinky Tunnels – Kinky refers to the bends in the tunnels, not what takes place while inside...we think. Crawl, right? And don't crawl into the side walls. I mean, that's what you're supposed to do, right?

Obstacle 22. Turd’s Nest – Try not to fall as you make your way across this fragile net. I'll try not to fall.

Obstacle 23. Everest – You’ll need help from your fellow mudders to reach the top of this slippery giant quarter pipe. Another damsel in distress one.

The beta on Everest from a college pal and his wife who
inadvertently came upon the obstacle during a hike at Squaw:
"It looks like a splinter-fest." I eat splinters for breakfast!

Obstacle 24. Fire Walker – Plain and simple run through our blazing kerosene soaked straw. Expect flames at least 4 feet high. My chance to feel like I'm in a John Woo movie!

Obstacle 25. Electroshock Therapy – Release your inner demons as you sprint through a field of live wires, some of which carry a 10,000 volt shock. Terrified.

I'll be posting my goals later this week. Like I need a goal other than rocking the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt.

2011 Army 10-Miler Race Recap

2011-10-09T20:59:00.009-04:00

Final time: 1:42:25 (official)

Average pace: 10:14 minutes/mile

As far as shooting for somewhere in between 1:50:21 and 1:33:39 goes, well, I came close to splitting the difference. Sub 1:40 didn't happen, and that's okay because I went from zero to 10 miles in one season, which I've never successfully done before. And for those of you surprised that I ran essentially the same time that I did last week in a training run, last week's run was in my ideal conditions, to the extent that rain, wind, and low 50˚s can be "ideal." I'm just not conditioned to run 10 miles in warmer, sunny conditions, and it's something I was concerned about.

On to the race. I didn't like the new start or finish areas, and with the new course, the final half mile was a test of mental fortitude. And there was a major port-o-potty deficit. I know I'm not the only person who ran to her already-moving start wave.

Mile 1. Lots of jockeying for position and finding a comfortable ~~pace~~ rhythm. I was not a fan of the loop-de-loop (cloverleaf) onto Memorial Bridge - it caused a bigger bottleneck than the old ramp did. Here's where I also discovered that my Garmin and the official race measurements were inconsistent, and I didn't have the presence of mind to manually hit "LAP." The official mile marker was probably 20 paces ahead of what my Garmin registered, and this distance continued to increase throughout the race. Based on the extra time after the Garmin registered 10 miles, probably 7 or 8 seconds should be added to all my Garmin splits. Anyway, I had a mild panic when I looked at my watch and saw the time. Garmin mile 1 – 10:41.

Mile 2. More jockeying on Memorial Bridge. I found a couple that were holding a decent pace and stuck with them until we passed the Lincoln Memorial. Garmin mile 2 – 9:56.

Mile 3. A slight climb up Virginia Avenue. Nothing of note to report....still feeling good. Garmin mile 3 – 10:06. This is the pace I wanted to stick.

Mile 4. Remember that pace I wanted to stick? Yeah, for some reason, in every race over a 5K, mile 4 is always my fastest mile. It's relative, of course. I think here it's because there's a slight downhill as you round the Watergate and pass the Kennedy Center. Oh, and someone called out my name in front of the Watergate, but I think it was more coincidence. This happened in 2008, too, and was awesome. Garmin mile 4 – 9:46.

Mile 5. I don't remember much of the fifth mile, other than being frustrated as I bypassed the water station but still got caught up by people walking in the middle of the road drinking water. I glanced at the MLK Memorial on my right, and somewhere before the end of the mile, I took a few Honey Stinger chews. I bonk after about 1 hour and 15 minutes without replenishment. Garmin mile 5 –10:06.

Mile 6. I started looking for my dad around here. He's never been to any races before, and I had no idea if I'd find him. All I knew was that he was going to take Metro to Smithsonian. I was also wondering where the hell the water station was to rinse out the Honey Stinger chew mash in my teeth. Garmin mile 6 – 10:05.

Mile 7. Why the Army 10-Miler takes a 10K split rather than a 5M split is beyond me. Mine's not anything to write home about, 1:03:45 (out of curiosity, I looked up my 10K split*** in 2008 – 1:02:37). I was kind of hurting here. Then, finally, the water! No more chewed up Honey Stinger mash in my teeth! Garmin mile 7 – 10:23 (I can't drink water and run at the same time, but at least I hang by the side).

Mile 8. I was keeping an eye out for my dad on the way back up Independence Avenue, but I wasn't optimistic. I had a few fakeouts earlier. But there he was, on my left, maybe 50 feet past the Smithsonian Metro entrance! Yay, Dad, you made it to the race! And then I was off, around 14th Street and onto the Bridge. My nemesis. Garmin mile 8 – 10:03.

Mile 9. It's not a well-raced Army 10-Miler until you dry heave on the 14th Street Bridge. Granted, it's sort of embarrassing to be dry heaving at my pace, but whatever. You can't say that I wasn't at anaerobic threshold. I can't say anything nice about this bridge. I wanted to stop. My right calf was tight. And the Hash House Harriers weren't even out there giving out beer. WTF. Garmin mile 9 – 10:04.

Mile 10. The finish used to be exit off the interminable 14th Street Bridge, make a right under the overpass, another quick right, and then sprint to the end. Finit. Not this year. Yes, the last mile started on the bridge, but there was still close to half a mile after the bridge to the finish. Up the hill/ramp/overpass that we used to go up to get to the start. And that hill/ramp/overpass is a series of blind turns, so you have no idea where on earth the finish is. Dastardly. Garmin mile 10 – 9:51

My Garmin picked up an additional .16 mile thanks to not syncing with the course, so my last .16 miles, per Garmin, was at an 8:45 pace, or 1:26. Way to kick it.

In the end, the one 9:46 mile wasn't enough to make up for the two miles significantly over 10 minutes, and although today's 10K split was only a minute and change off my 2008 10K split,*** I just didn't have the same amount of juice left in my legs for the last 4 miles. It's probably best that I had forgotten about that gem of a statistic, otherwise I would have been too fixated on pushing too early and barfing on the bridge, instead of just dry heaving.

On to Tough Mudder Virginia in two weeks!!!

***Okay...statistics geek that I am, I was in the middle of figuring out what my splits were were the last 3.8 miles in 2008 when it came up that I was running 8:10 miles. And that made no sense. In 2008, they took a 6.5 mile split, not a 10K split. Again, I have no idea why 6.5 and not something more intuitive, like 5.

Run Like It's 2008 (aka Army Ten-Miler Goals)

2011-10-08T10:38:00.006-04:00

Race day is tomorrow!

My last Army Ten-Miler, in 2009, was a disaster, mostly because it all came apart after 6 miles. This is what happens when you don't train, kids. I'd raced reasonably well in 2008 and got in a faster wave for 2009. But when everything came apart after 6 miles, it was, uhm, challenging to see everyone passing me for the next four miles.

2008: 1:33:49
2009: 1:50:21

In retrospect, I was a faster slow person than I thought. In my head, I was 20 minutes slower in 2009 than in 2008. You know, because 50 minus 30 is 20. The reality is that I was just over 16 and a half minutes slower. Love how we beat ourselves up, huh?

The massive decrease in speed was caused by a number of ~~reasons~~ excuses that I can no longer accurately remember....injuries, burnout, etc. I was planning to redeem myself in 2010, but then on January 1, 2010, I broke my tailbone on marble steps in Chile, which made running a literal pain in the ass for most of the year, despite the physical therapy.

I re-began running in earnest this year in April. So far, I haven't run in any timed races. This means that I have no idea what I'm capable of in a race situation, but I ran 10 miles in wet, chilly, and windy conditions last Saturday in 1:42, including waiting for traffic. Arguably, the wait gave me time to rest, especially in the last two miles, which is why I include it in my time. I know others wouldn't.

Given that my training has been more about regaining an aerobic base and completing my miles, rather than speeding them up, I think it's highly unlikely that I'll break 1:30. Don't worry, it's still a goal for the 10-mile distance.

The weather forecast is sunny with temps topping out at 81˚... so probably high 50s during the early part of the race to low 60s during the rest of the race, and just plain old wicked hot on the 14th Street Bridge. I need to remember my sunglasses!

So, my goal is to finish somewhere in that 16 and a half minute range between 1:50:21 and 1:33:49. Hee hee. Way to set the bar high.

I'm hoping to stick a 10-minute mile, have a slight kick, and with any luck finish under 1:40, although a lot depends on how I react to the bright sun on the interminable bridge. I don't think a personal best is realistic this time around, but, hey, a cherry on top if it happens!

Happy racing to everyone headed out this weekend!

Taper Interruptus

2011-10-05T20:34:00.002-04:00

This Army 10-Miler taper week is interrupted for some early season ski stoke: I met pro freeskier Ingrid Backstrom last night!

I'm a geographically-challenged alpine skier masquerading as a runner and yogini. I run so I don't break when I ski, and I practice yoga and do Pilates so I don't break when I run. Thanks to living east of the Appalachians and south of the Mason-Dixon Line, I sadly wind up spending more time thinking about skiing than actually skiing. But if the stars align, I hope to hit up one of Ingrid's ski clinics in Tahoe this winter.

Now back to tapering....

On Tapering....

2011-10-03T12:03:00.003-04:00

Wow. The Universe is working very diligently to ensure that I taper this week before the Army 10-Miler.

Confession: Although I've ~~run~~ made it through 2 Army 10-Milers, I've never run more than 8 miles in training. Ever.

New Milestone: On Saturday, I ran just over 10 miles in some pretty raw weather. I even chafed up my legs for the first time ever, and I'm pretty sure I've run in all possible weather conditions, other than a sandstorm. I'm not sure that the chafing is that great a milestone, but it's better that it happened on a training run than during a race, right?

At any rate, I was pretty pumped after the 10 miles, and even better, I was going to have dinner with friends later that night to kick off our quarterly bar crawl. I, being lame, was just going for dinner, but I made up for it by ordering the wine pairings for my prix fixe 3-course meal.

Note from our server on Saturday night.

The rest of the week is a taper:

Sunday: Cross-training, which I've interpreted as 1 hour of Pilates jump board – think plyos on a reformer machine. Done. Thank you Fuse Pilates!

Monday: 1.25 hours of Rocket yoga (an offshoot of Ashtanga). The Universe started to communicate with me.

Tuesday: 2 mile easy run.

Wednesday: 1 hour of jump board.

Thursday: 3 miles, with 1 mile at roughly 9 minute mile pace.

Friday: 1-2 miles easy.

Saturday: Rest

Sunday: RACE!

As I mentioned above, the Universe is making sure that I taper, and instead of practicing Rocket yoga this morning, I walked out of class. Being a yoga teacher myself, I am empathetic when a class doesn't go as the teacher planned. But, today, about 25 minutes into class, the teacher got kicked in the face as she was assisting a student into forearm stand (needless to say, that person didn't get into forearm stand) and left class. Another student stepped in and taught, but it was wasn't working for me...and I left a yoga class for my first time ever. I was actually conflicted about what to do.

Anyway, right now I'm a little antsy, but in general, I'm good at following training plans, especially the taper. I feel like that's when I can get caught up on other aspects of life. And, I mean, the season premiere of House is on tonight, too.

So there you go, Universe. I appreciate the nudge, but there's no need to go around injuring my favorite yoga teachers to make sure that I'm tapering.

October!

2011-09-30T21:26:00.006-04:00

Race month is here! In the words of my favorite turtleslug, YIKES!

2008 logo of the DC Ragnar Relay Turtleslugs.

I broke my tailbone New Year's Day 2010, right when I was planning to return to running after a one-year layoff. And the cause of the first layoff was a combination of burnout and other injuries. So, right now I'm thrilled that I made it to October without any running (or skiing or yoga)-related injuries.

Getting back into running shape wasn't easy, and actually, having not yet been tested, I'm nervous that I'm still not there. Training for October's races messed with with my head...a LOT, and I'm already slightly neurotic to begin with. There were lows, like last Saturday's double, and highs, like this past Wednesday's tempo run, when I re-discovered the art of focusing on a different aspect of technique for each mile (more on this later - it derives from nearly a decade of being a crew coxswain and coaching).

Here's what October looks like:

October 9, 2011 - Army Ten Miler

October 23, 2011 - Tough Mudder Virginia

~~October 30, 2011 - Marine Corps Marathon 10K~~

Uhm, yeah. I had naïvely thought that I could register for the MCM 10K a month before the race, but when I checked in online today to register, I couldn't find the registration button to save my life. Then I realized that the damn race was ALREADY FULL. Bloody hell. I would kick myself about this one, except that's unyogic (ahimsa), and one less race in October is probably a blessing in disguise...

Snail Mail Loot!

2011-09-25T23:30:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was a snail mail loot day: The Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt arrived, as did my "spicy mustard"-colored backcountry.com goat sticker. Yay!!

Apparently I painted my coffee table "spicy mustard."

Who says the USPS is dying?

Even though the skirt arrived more than a month before the event at which I'm planning to wear it – the Virginia Tough Mudder on October 23 – the skirt couldn't have arrived at a better time in my training cycle. I was in dire need of a pick-me-up.

Two Fridays ago, I set out for an 8-mile run. It was dark, dry, a little breezy, and 50˚F. The sky lightened but remained mostly overcast. These were my ideal conditions, and that's how I ran the 8 miles: 10 minutes faster than the last time I'd gone out and done the distance, in a humid 80˚F. It definitely wasn't my fastest 8 miles ever, but it wasn't bad for this year. The shorter runs during this week also went reasonably well, so I expected to have a repeat of last Friday when I woke up yesterday morning.

Except after I ate a small breakfast, I felt like going right back to bed, even after putting on running shorts. I actually crawled back into bed for about 5 minutes before convincing myself that it was possible to start a run feeling like crap but wind up feeling better partway through. Not yesterday. I called it quits after 3 miles and contemplated either trying again for 8 later in the day, or at the very least, finishing off 8.

This is pretty distressing 2 weeks before a race and has messed with my head.

After eating a proper breakfast and lunch for the next three hours, I texted my friend Jonathan to see whether he was going for a run later in the day. Maybe I'd join him for a few miles. It turns out he was planning on running 5. 3 + 5 = 8. Voila!

Now, a few notes about Jonathan: (1) he's recovering from some health issues and (2) there was a point in his life when a sub-3-hour marathon was normal. My only chance of keeping pace with any former elite runner is, I think, if they're actively suffering from a health issue and/or missing a leg and have no prosthetic. There, I wrote it. Jonathan with one lung and half a soleus muscle = Stephanie with two lungs and intact calves, maybe. Not that I would ever wish my friend to have one lung or half a calf muscle, of course.

Anyway, around 5pm yesterday, I found myself on hill #1 of Jonathan's Northwest DC Tour de ~~Hell~~ Hill. Don't get me wrong. I like hills. Especially those covered in snow.

Hoofing up a hill the day before Christmas 2009.

But my idea of a running hill is an on/off ramp. Seriously. So imagine my oxygen-deprived horror when hill #1 turned out to be half a mile long. And sure, what goes up usually comes down, but then it goes up again if you're a former elite runner trying to pack in the most efficient run possible. Gack. Hill #2 basically had me for dinner. Or as an apéritif at the least. Yes. I walked up hill #2. It was lame. And at some point, Jonathan decided to describe to me the incomprensible plot of a crazy Korean movie he watched the night before, maybe to see if the plot made any more sense to someone who was oxygen deprived. See how all of this is messing with my head two weeks before the Army 10-Miler?

Between my morning run, the run to and from Jonathan's place, and shuffling myself along Jonathan's route, I logged 9.3 miles. They were neither pretty nor particularly satisfying.

That's why it was a treat to find my mailbox packed with goodies yesterday, especially the traveling Team Sparkle skirt. It's like the powers that be knew that I'd need a pick-me-up at 6pm Saturday. Thanks, powers that be!

The girls at Team Sparkle are psychic.

Notes from the Weekend and a Readjusted 10-Miler Training Plan

2011-09-13T08:17:00.002-04:00

After a couple of soggy morning runs last week, Saturday found me hydrating and generally mastering the art of rest after a great yoga master class with my teacher trainer, the lovely Chrissy Carter, and hanging out with some of my favorite yogis and yoginis the night before.

Thursday night, I had managed to strain or overwork at least one of the external rotators on my left hip, right at the attachment area (read: butt). So, on Saturday, I contently lounged in my pajamas well into the afternoon, intermittently sitting on a bag of frozen peas and making friends with vitamin I as I watched hours of U.S. Open tennis on TV. I had all but planned to postpone my long (for me) run until Sunday morning to give my butt time to heal when I realized that if I ran Sunday morning, I’d get caught up with the Nation’s Triathlon, which had morphed into a duathlon thanks to the weeks’ rains.

Damn.

Fine.

I laced up after Nadal beat Murray.

The run confirmed what I’ve already known: I’m a lot slower than I was three years ago. I’m working on being okay with this.

On the positive side, I have realistic expectations: the run took me as long as I had expected it would take me, which means that I was back on the sofa to watch the second women’s semi-final. I even had time to ~~spare~~ rehydrate. And, although I missed Cyndi Lauper gallantly streaming our flag was still there, I was particularly pleased at my ability to schedule the run in between matches.

On the other hand, in addition to improving endurance, I need to work on staying positive. It’s been a challenge to ~~turn off~~ ignore the chatter in my head that gets stirred up during and post run. I’m also looking for a mantra. It used to be “Power through the legs, strong in the core.” I haven’t tried it yet this year — mostly because I haven’t felt particularly strong during any run — but I may need to recycle it.

On tap for this week: After this Saturday’s run, which was 8-miles by the way, I decided to adjust yet again my training schedule. I don’t plan to run 10 miles prior to the Army 10-Miler. My strategy has turned to something along the lines of train up to 8 miles, maybe 9, and rely on race-day adrenaline to carry me the rest of the way. So this week it’ll be ~17 miles total, including an 8-mile run and a tempo run in there.

And I'm still looking for a mantra if you've got any suggestions...

First 1.5 Hours on a Stand Up Paddleboard

2011-09-03T22:01:00.013-04:00

My obliques will be crying uncle tomorrow, but before I lose the capacity to do whatever it is that oblique muscles do, a few thoughts on my first time out on a stand up paddleboard.

It was rad.

When my friend Ben asked whether I wanted to get out on SUP this weekend, my inside voice thought that Ben had turned into an late 90s wannabe rapper. Then, when I realized what SUP stood for, I told him I was game as long as we weren't on a waterbody where I might wind up with a third arm if I fell in (aka, the Potomac in Georgetown).

On tap this weekend for my Army 10-Miler training was a short run and cross training to cap off a step-back week that left a lot of quality to be desired. No need to relive that. I did the run this morning, and by 9:30 am, Ben and I were waiting for the surf shop to open so we could pick up our boards.

At least it doesn't look as ridiculous as the boards did on a Golf.

We got some beta from the guys at the surf shop, did our own exploration, picked up a parking permit for the landing where we wanted to put in....and then fueled ourselves for the paddle.

Way too excited to be at an open-air bar for lunch.

About all we had decided was to paddle in protected water, off Maryland's Eastern Shore. We drove down a road that abutted the Wye River, looked for public access to the water, and came upon a landing road (preceded by a country store operated by a not particularly nice proprietor). Bingo. We put in. I wobbled in a table top position. This was the extent of my yoga practice on the board. After a few tentative strokes in a kneeling position, I popped onto my feet. Well, "pop" is too active a word. It was more of a gradual metamorphosis from a crouch to not as much of a crouch. The judges on So You Think You Can Dance would have been super impressed with my interpretive dance with a prop.

I can't wait to see how my obliques feel tomorrow.

Once on my feet, we paddled for an hour into a headwind. Holy resistance training! Thanks to the headwind, I was pretty sure at times that my paddling was futile. It's a good thing that several motor boats puttered and not so puttered at us to provide the illusion that I was moving forward. And, I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that we turned around at the Aspen Wye River Conference Center dock. Nerdy factoid: the 1998 Mideast Peace talks were here.

The best part about starting out into a headwind, obviously, is the return, which took half an hour. I even caught a few waves on the way back, and we came in to the landing as the local fishermen and crabbers brought in the day's catch.

Now about those obliques...

Why I'm a Morning Runner

2011-09-02T08:08:00.000-04:00

Wednesday night, someone asked me whether I was a morning runner or evening runner, and I responded morning because it's usually more bearable, temps-wise. This reasoning usually makes no sense in December, nor did it make sense this week, when the post-Irene weather has been ~~awesome~~ unbelievably amazing. I'm not even really a morning person; I'm just a night person in disguise. At any rate, at some point in the past, I had decided to run in the mornings, and that's what I now do. I couldn't remember why.

Thurday morning, I remembered: less traffic (foot, bicycle and vehicular) = decreased likelihood of getting hit by an ~~idiotic~~ distracted DC driver.

Five years ago this month, I was doing a short loop through town just before 7am and making really good time when I got hit by a car driving forward out of a nursing home driveway. I stress that the car was moving forward, not backing, out of the driveway because when I posted this on a RunnersWorld forum at the time, I got flamed for not watching for cars backing out of driveways. Ah....the anonymity of the interwebs!

So, in August 2006, I was about a mile from the end of my run and on the sidewalk. The car was moving slow enough that when I got hit, I folded over the hood all Matrix-like (and ~~possibly~~ keying the hood in the process) but stayed on my feet. Go yoga! After my brain realized that I just got hit by a car, I did a quick body scan and yelled at the driver that I was okay. I figured that if I had just hit someone, I'd be concerned about whether the person was okay, right? Well, the driver, in turn, yelled at me for not stopping to look both ways before crossing the driveway. Whatever, bitch...you hit me -- at least be concerned as to whether I'm, I dunno, injured. I fired back some choice words and ran away. Then I spent the rest of the day telling everyone who would listen, "OMG, can you believe I got hit by a car while running? I got hit by a car while running!"

I'm sure this is about when I started waking up earlier for my training runs and also switching up my routes so that I either beelined for the Mall or for a park trail.

Guess what! Yesterday, I was on the same route, but I didn't make it outside until just after 7am. I was .75 miles from the end of my run when I took one step into an alley, and a car came barreling out past me and the sidewalk before coming to a stop just beyond the cars parallel parked on the street. I was heading uphill, and I'm so out of shape that I was able to immediately stop, inches away from the car. This car was moving fast enough that I have zero doubt that if I had taken one more step (or was faster), I would have been on the hood. The entire time, the driver had her head turned to her left. I don't think she noticed me until after she stopped and found this crazy 5-foot-tall woman dripping in sweat, yelling and pounding her rear window. Then I ran off. I call that a hit and run.

This week is a step-back week in my Army 10-Miler training. I know, I don't feel like I've built enough mileage (and I'm not exactly blazing fast, either) to step back, but I'll take a week where all my runs are no longer than 4 miles.

Batten Down the Hatches: Reflections

2011-08-27T21:29:00.004-04:00

I've battened down the hatches, made the requisite run to Whole Foods for PB and other hurricane essentials, and filled the bathtub with water. All that's left is to hang out and see what slow moving, soaking Hurricane Irene brings.

How a yuppy prepares for a hurricane...

Hunkering down for Irene's appearance in D.C. has given me a lot of time to catch up on episodes of Master Chef and Expedition Impossible and also to reflect on this week, which included a lot of firsts:

First earthquake! Even better, I got to use the mad earthquake drill skills I picked up from working in Seattle part of last year. We even had an earthquake drill while I was there. The safety coordinator guy got onto the PA, rustled some paper around, and we all ducked, covered and held until he stopped rustling the paper. Trés realistic. On Tuesday, I got to test out these skills, once I figured out that I was not having a previously undiagnosed neurological issue. Who cares if I ducked, covered and rolled (whoops), and didn't make it under my desk until most of the earthquake rolling (not me) was over. The critical part is that I got under the desk, which, in a city where everyone else's instinct was to run down stairwells and then outside, makes me one of three geeks who followed FEMA protocol. On the other hand, it was quite the bummer to get home and find my Olie Kolzig bobblehead doll decapitated from a 5-foot dive off a shelf. I guess even goalies take dives.

First bodywork session with someone in the process of Rolfing training! One of my favorite Iyengar yoga teachers came back to town, armed with some bodywork techniques he's picked up while at the Rolfing Institute in Boulder. My first two thoughts when I learned where he was going were (1) He gets to breathe the thin Boulder air! and (2) Sign me up to be a bodywork guinea pig! I got to be the latter on Wednesday evening, with a 1.5 hour deep-tissue session. Admittedly, I'm not entirely sure what Rolfing is, so it's probably a good thing that that's not what I got. After my session, my calves — already pretty worked from an attempt at mile repeats in the morning — were jello. It took me six blocks of walking before I felt like I could even control them. By Friday, the calves felt awesome. Really.

Took my first power yoga master class! I'm a yoga slut. I practice pretty much all styles, depending on my mood, except for Bikram. The sweaty hot and heated stuff makes me nervous, though. Chalk it up to having cracked my tailbone two New Year's Days ago and messing up all the muscles back there. This past Thursday, the Studio DC brought Bryan Kest to D.C., and it was pretty rad. He's down to earth — a plus in my book — although, am I the only person who thought it could have been also called Master Class with Dr. Seuss? (Reach the right leg high, up to the sky....)

First pre-hurricane run in 3 years! Fact: During the 2008 Ragnar Relay, my teammates dropped me off on a western Maryland ridge, and as the van drove by and past me, Tropical Storm Hanna unleashed her fury. At least, that's how I remember it. I'm getting older, so my memory could be fuzzy.

After my last leg in the 2008 Ragnar Relay in DC.
The sun rose as I ran this leg - hence the headlamp and vest.

Sure, I haven't regularly run in almost 3 years, but there also hasn't been a real hurricane or tropical storm here since then. Mere coincidence? This morning, I totally forgot about the "tropical" part of the phrase "tropical storm-like conditions." I was also spoiled by the low humidity earlier in the week, so it was a massive sweatfest on my nearly 7-mile spin this morning, during which I saw an atypical number of other runners also getting in their pre-Irene miles. I don't think of myself as an über endurance athlete, and my longest race distance has been 10 miles. I'm definitely still in the build phase of Army Ten-Miler training. To hit nearly 7 miles right now after starting at zero in May is right on track....it's my pace that's bothering me.

Next week's a step-back week. Stay tuned...

Recomboblation Area

2011-08-23T23:30:00.000-04:00

Originally I was going to rave about how awesome my run was yesterday. It was one of those training runs where less than a quarter mile in, you just know it's going to feel good. After ~~running~~ sucking wind at altitude last week, hanging out in the Milwaukee Airport waiting for Godot on Friday, and then a disastrous long run midday on Sunday where I was pretty close to "browning" out (my version of passing out - I can still hear and move and stuff, just can't see) due to low BP and probably dehydration, Monday's three-miler at sea level and 75˚F was an unexpected treat. And my legs knew it. I was recombobulated! Yay!

General Mitchell International Airport, just after TSA security screening.

Then the Virginia earthquake hit today, rattled me, and more tragically, decapitated my Olie Kolzig bobblehead! Seriously, how am I going to replace this??

Good thing I have earthquake insurance.

I'm hoping I can re-recombobulate and take advantage of what's forecasted to be another awesome morning to throw together decent mile repeats tomorrow before the hurricane comes through over the weekend and the locusts arrive early next week.

The Land of Enchantment

2011-08-18T21:28:00.009-04:00

The last time I was in New Mexico, my then-Baltimore-based AT through-hiker pal Moon Monster and I were passing through on I-40, feverishly trying to outrun a winter storm. So, it was awesome to head back this week, to the northern part of the state, where I've never spent any time. Earlier this week, I was a "volunteer role model" (heh) to over thirty minority high school juniors and seniors, and college freshmen and sophomores interested in careers related to the environment. I know I've got more than one students' dream job, but if working in places like these are part of the job description, well, a career where field work is the norm isn't too shabby, either.

Pecos National Historical Park, from the Forked Lightning Ranch House

I spent two days hanging out with the students and their awesome instructors (from the USGS and USFS) as they tested water quality and flow, and identified fauna, aquatic macro invertebrates, and birds in Pecos National Historical Park and the Santa Fe National Forest.* Seriously, who knows what I would have turned into if I did a summer program like this when I was 18, rather than sweat to death selling concessions at the premier water park of northwestern New Jersey! I'd be the next John Muir! Or a dirtbag skier.... hmmm....

Netting macro invertebrates for identification.

My fave tree: Aspens! Santa Fe National Forest

* Disclaimer: We went to a waste water treatment plant, too, but I'll spare you the pics. Thank me later.

Tales of a Flatlander at Altitude

2011-08-17T00:26:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I woke up at sea level in D.C. and slept at over 7000 feet altitude, in northern New Mexico. This morning, I ran my 3 first miles ever at altitude...and they were surprisingly okay.

I decided to do a hybrid trail run (read: trail run + approach to trail head on paved road). Per my 10-miler training schedule, I had four miles to do yesterday, which got delayed in the shuffle of traveling to the Land of Enchantment, acclimating to altitude, and hydrating.

On acclimating: Arid climates are confusing to me. I sweat so much when I'm just standing around that when I'm in an arid climate, I freak out and think that I've gotten heat stroke because it's wicked hot, but I'm not sweating. I'm not sure if it's related, but my first time at altitude, I had spectacular altitude sickness while hiking up to the Maroon Bells in Aspen. Thirty-six hours earlier, I was at sea level. Not ideal. The Aspen Valley Hospital ER is awesome, by the way, when you are oxygen deprived and barfing up all shades of your favorite sports drink.

Since then, I've been at altitude countless times in the winter without incident. I've also followed a ridiculous hydration and ibuprofen regimen and limited the alcohol intake. So, starting Sunday, I hydrated like I was going to run a marathon the next day, and after flying in to New Mexico yesterday, I had one measly wheat beer.

Wildflower Wheat

It was in the low 60˚s when I made my way outside at 6:30am this morning. After noticing first the chill in the air (fingers were soon cold), I then noticed how tired I felt. Fatigue is sometimes a sign of altitude sickness. In my case, it was hard to tell because I got 5 hours of sleep before waking up at 5am Eastern on Monday, zipped over two time zones, and didn't go to bed until 10pm Mountain. I could have been just generally sleep-deprived.

Rather than run a relatively flat loop, I decide to do the beginnings of a trail run, which meant climbing.

The first .75 miles felt hard although my heart rate monitor thought I was cruising. This was pretty consistent with the rest of the run but also puzzling because the night before, I thought my heart was pounding pretty quickly. On the run, it was hard to breathe, but over and over, the heart rate monitor was throwing out completely reasonable numbers. Nevertheless, four miles started sounding ambitious, and I decided to truncate the run by a mile. Interestingly, I did cruise on the way back in (aka, downhill) and felt pretty decent, despite the altitude. I guess I wasn't working that hard.

Seen on today's run...

Aerobic Base Malaise

2011-08-10T22:20:00.005-04:00

This may be the year that I should have joined an Army 10-Miler training group for real because what I’ve discovered is that getting back into running shape after a hiatus is, for me at least, more mentally challenging than starting from scratch the first time around. In true neurotic runner form, I’ve already revised my training plan to accommodate my slower than expected aerobic base build, tossed out the idea that I’ll be able to PR in the 10-mile distance this October, and am concerned that I chose the wrong race to train for. This is getting frustrating enough that last night, I even posed a question to Lululemon's Ask a Runner Live on Twitter, hosted by their Vancouver-based Ambassador Linda Wong.

Desperate times for me because I'm not usually a participant
in Twitter-chats. Or whatever they're called. See? I'm a total noob.

The last time I ran the Army 10-Miler was in 2009, and I was a, uh, humbling 16 minutes slower than the previous year, in roughly similar weather conditions. What I learned: (1) Poor training gets you to 6 miles at race pace; guts gets you the rest of the way. (2) It feels like crap to rely on guts for the last 4 miles of the ATM, especially because the 14th Street Bridge is involved. Anyway, I strongly disliked how I felt during and after the 2009 ATM, and I refuse to feel that way again. But then there were this week’s training runs, which I'm not sure were particularly inspiring.....

This week’s training runs have been a little more on the “meh” side even though the temps have dropped in the mornings to 77˚F, 65% relative humidity, which actually feels cool. You know you’re really warped when you’re psyched to run in 77˚F. This week calls for ~15 miles total -- two 4 milers and then a longer run on Saturday -- and cross training (Iyengar, Pilates Reformer, and get out your ya-yas yoga)* in between. Having had core stability issues sideline me from running in the past (and thus taking the hiatus), I’m determined to stay healthy these next few months.

As for the runs themselves so far this week, there’s always an element of cross training when running on city streets. Case in point: on Monday, a vomiting homeless pedestrian and a runner were both rounding a left (to them) corner by the White House as I approached the same corner. I had a fence to my right, and while I'm sure leaping over it and being chased by the Secret Service would have been a very effective interval workout, it was not interval day. So, that left me on a collision course with the vomiting dude (why the heck did he think it was a good idea to keep walking while puking???) if I stayed the course, or the runner running at Mach 1 if I sidestepped to the left.

In my oxygen-deprived state, the idea of getting knocked out by a runner twice my size seemed preferable to having a stranger’s puke on me, so I sidestepped and somehow avoid calamity. I still don’t know how I managed that. Today’s run was on a route that I haven’t done in a few years, and my Garmin thought that I jumped off a bridge and flew back up again, all Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon-like. I think I’ll savor that for now and not tell the Garmin the truth. If I can't have a satisfying training run, at least I have super powers...

* Seriously, my idea of a brick is a 4 mile run followed by 1.5 hours of vinyasa yoga. This could be part of my training problemo...discuss...

How Not to Do a Rest Day

2011-08-02T08:12:00.013-04:00

Rest and recovery days.... Let's face it: Most amateur athletes get away with not completely resting on designated rest days. Amateurs don't rely on prize money or sponsorships for their livelihoods, and they have lives. And seeing as the closest I've ever come to winning my age group in any sort of individual athletic endeavor was an accidental top 20 finish in a 5K years ago, I fall squarely in that amateur category. So, it seemed reasonable to make up an easy run on Friday -- technically my rest day -- and then go for a regularly scheduled a long(er) run on Saturday.

Wrong.

The unthinkable happened Saturday during the long run: As of 7:30am Saturday, the gams were dead. Sure, I know what tired legs feel like, but in the past this sort of fatigue has only occurred while doing something epic, like long-distance hiking or an overnight relay. Having this happen during a planned training run seemed like a byproduct of getting older or something. I bailed after 2 miles and actually wished it was Monday so I could sit behind my desk and not move. How depressing. I still had a picnic to attend in the afternoon, and I wasn't even sure I could...stand. I rallied for 5 more hours of grilling, three-legged racing, balloon tossing, wheel barrow racing, and tug-o-warring. Post picnic, it was divine to jump into the pool and just float.

So what went wrong?

A better way to do a rest day:
farmers market and hydration. Zinnias
were the bounty from this weekend.

1. The makeup run was in 85% relative humidity and 81˚F...at 6am. Indeed, Washington, DC, was still in the midst of a heat wave. Sigh.

2. After the makeup run, I did errands. On foot. Between noon and 4pm. In 102˚F temps. Genius move. You'd think with all the letters after my name, I'd know better. I wound up walking over 5 miles in that time and drank only a liter of water.

3. I ~~sort of~~ skipped lunch. But, don't worry, I made up for it by eating every sample possible in Costco....

4. Right. I wandered around in Costco, shopping for a picnic that over 100 people were expected to attend. Who knows how many miles walking around Costco wound up being.

5. A normal person would sit down in the evening after running around all day, right? Nah. Not me. Instead, after finally eating a meal, I stood around slicing onions for the picnic.

The only time I remember sitting on Friday was when I was driving and when waiting to pick up a friend from a medical appointment (and afterward at his apartment, to make sure he didn't jump out of a window while shot up on pain meds).

In the past, my superpower has been quick-ish recovery. This superpower has been less predictable lately, but I was pleased when I woke up Sunday morning and the gams felt....normal. So, having drank the Pilates reformer Kool-Aid earlier this summer, I went to a reformer class and then the farmers market. Not exactly a rest day, but close enough for this amateur.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Skirts, Meet the Virginia Tough Mudder

2011-07-25T08:01:00.008-04:00

I've never run a road race in a skirt nor do I plan to, so it's a good thing that the Tough Mudder is not a road race but rather an off-road endurance event. See, during a moment of weakness, I registered for the Virginia Tough Mudder in October. And now, I've arranged it so that I'm doing the endurance event in one of Team Sparkle's Traveling Skirts!

Now, in addition to simply worrying about whether I will survive the endurance event with all my ligaments and bones attached, I need to also worry about making Team Sparkle proud and keep on a sparkly skirt with wicked mojo as I scale walls more than twice my height so I can pass the mojo (literally the skirt itself) on to another woman via snail mail. I promise to rinse the mud out first!

Belated write-up of Washington to Washington: the Return

2011-07-21T08:00:00.059-04:00

So, a year ago today, the Transporter and I set off for Seattle. Unbeknownst to many, I returned to DC in February, after 8 days on the road. I logged way more miles than I had on the drive out and absolutely fell in love with Flagstaff, even though I've now been there for a grand total of 2 days in my life.

Because the Transporter gave birth to a darling baby girl on January 11 (1/11/11 -- how cool is that??!), she wasn't available to co-pilot the return drive. The night before I left, a Seattle pal, whom I've dubbed the Last-Minute Interloper, agreed to do the drive from Seattle to San Luis Obispo with me. I would then pick up another friend -- Moon Monster (this is actually his trail name from when he through-hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2003) -- in San Luis Obispo, and we'd drive back east.

The Itinerary

Day 1: Seattle to Eugene (with Last-Minute Interloper and a stop for lunch in Portland)
Day 2: Eugene to San Francisco (spent a night with my bff)
Day 3: San Francisco to Mojave (with stop in San Luis Obispo to pick up the Transporter v. 2.0, aka Moon Monster, and to drop off LMI)
Day 4: Mojave to Flagstaff
Day 5: Flagstaff to Albuquerque
Day 6: Albuquerque to Joplin, MO (to outrun the imminent snowstorm)
Day 7: Joplin, MO to Dayton, OH
Day 8: Dayton, OH to Baltimore/Washington, DC

So, here are the highlights of the return drive from Seattle to Washington, DC:

Most importantly, the Transporter v. 2.0 (aka, Moon Monster) and I returned to the east coast having driven in merely trace amounts of snow. This is notable because Oklahoma City, Little Rock, and Memphis (aka, I-40) got walloped the days after we went through. And the week before, too.

I-5 through Washington, Oregon and northern California is, simply, gorgeous. I really want to ski in the Marble Mountain Wilderness. LMI and I kept ogling the potential routes. Miraculously, I did not drive off the road.

It's kind of dorky, but I got a kick out of driving by the exit for Sleater-Kinney Road outside Olympia. While I was in Seattle, I'd driven by the exit at least 5 times, and it never got old.

Everyone warned me that Eugene was a vortex of weirdness, and they were right. My night with LMI, his grade-school pal, and my high school roommate was something out of a 1990s comedy flick. It involved a minivan, a skateboarding ex-husband (not mine), and the bassist from Cherry Poppin' Daddies.

Rush-hour drivers in San Francisco sort of messed with my chi. Or qi. I've been playing lots of Scrabble® lately.

It was traumatizing to see the car in front of us run over a squirrel outside of SLO, especially when the squirrel bounced off the back tire and rolled under my car. :(

The weather in Flagstaff is simply amazing.

The drive from Flag to Albuquerque is pretty cool, although there weren't many people in Winslow, AZ, on Super Bowl Sunday. We stopped at the Walnut Canyon National Monument; fulfilled Moon Monster's childhood dream (and Experienced the Impact!) to see the Meteor Crater; stood on a corner in Winslow, Arizona; and drove through the Petrified Forest National Park and Painted Desert.

Walnut Canyon National Monument, outside Flagstaff

Meteor Crater that Moon Monster wanted to go to.


Lonely corner in Winslow, Arizona.

A drive through the Petrified Forest and Painted Desert, above.

From Albuquerque, Moon Monster and I went through the Texas panhandle, where we stopped at the Cadillac Ranch. Then we booked it through Oklahoma, where a storm was coming in, and headed north to Joplin, MO.

The Cadillac Ranch is on a frontage road, right off the interstate. Snow - in Texas!

We hit a dusting of snow outside Joplin and then went on through St. Louis.

The closest we got to the Arch.

The Wright Brothers are pretty cool. We stopped at their cycle shop in Dayton, and I picked up another National Park stamp.

Moon Monster and I had a 1-hour time out just outside of West Virginia. I wanted to go one way, he wanted to go another. I was driving, so we went my way.

The most snow we hit was, of all places, in Baltimore as I was dropping off Moon Monster.

And that's how the drive back east went!

Stop the presses! I got a Garmin!

2011-07-19T20:12:00.003-04:00

It wasn't long ago that at this very URL, I professed not to be a gadget girl. Well, over the weekend, I acquired a Garmin Forerunner 210 with heart rate monitor. I'm still not gadget girl, though. Among other things, I've proven to be too impatient to wait for the GPS to pick up satellites in the urban canyons (and haze) of DC. And, in an ideal world, a GPS watch wouldn't be larger than the width of my wrist. But, the local running store told me that this was the smallest profile Garmin with GPS, and this advice was consistent with my fastidious online research (aka, reviewing DC Rainmaker's blog). So there you go. I've entered the 21st Century. Now, if only the Garmin would make me run faster and jump higher...

If I wore this on my ankle, I would look like someone on house arrest.

Llama, Llama, Dalai Lama

2011-07-09T17:19:00.005-04:00

Despite being a four-day work week, this week wiped me out. I subbed 3 yoga classes, spent at least 35 hours at my full-time job, pretended to increase my running base, and didn't eat enough last night, although I didn't figure out this last tidbit until I ate lunch #1 today (which also means that I didn't eat enough for breakfast and was fooled into thinking I was dehydrated).

At any rate, I had decided not to set an alarm, see what time I woke up, and determine at that time whether it made sense to do my long run in the morning or early evening. Well, I woke up "naturally" at 7:45am this morning, with a mild headache. The sun was already broadly shining, and because I was feeling way less than stellar, I shifted the run to the early evening.

I took the unexpected early-ish wakeup as a sign that I should attend His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama's Talk for World Peace on the West Lawn of the U.S. Capitol. The talk was a part the Dalai Lama's visit for the 2011 Kalachakra for World Peace and drew a solid crowd. Most of the other events have taken or will take place at the Verizon Center. Although the first days of the ritual are spent conducting prayers and blessings to consecrate the ceremonial venue, it's the Verizon Center for crying out loud. I mean, I've seen countless concerts and Caps games there. I'm particularly sensitive to place, and it would just be weird. So, I'm glad the Dalai Lama had a public event outdoors, and that I made it out to the Capitol this morning.

Nota Bene: When Reading Trail Descriptions...

2011-07-04T13:28:00.006-04:00

For a Fourth of July treat, I decided to go on my inaugural trail run of the season this morning. I also decided to test out the RunKeeper app again, as I was less than thrilled at its functionality in the city. I drove out to Difficult Run, right outside of Great Falls National Park, and figured I'd run into the park, check out the falls and then head back to the lot.

Getting on the right track proved to be the most challenging aspect. First, thanks to the wicked crazy storm last night (links to a YouTube vid, not mine, of the storm), the road that I'd planned on taking to get to the trailhead was closed. Never fear! There are about 6 different ways to get everywhere in DC, and soon I was crossing the Potomac and in the Commonwealth.

I arrived at the trailhead right at 8am, and there were probably 10 cars in the lot. I geared up and set off. Issue numero dos with trail running the morning after a wicked crazy storm: lots of puddles. Not that I'm averse to them, but I just hadn't dealt with them in a while. I hopped over stepping stones to cross Difficult Run. As I leaped from rock to rock, I thought, "Huh, I don't remember reading about this in the trail writeup." I shrugged and kept running. I saw a grey heron in the water. The trail seemed to be in people's backyards at points.

And then there was a road. Bloody hell. The trail description definitely did not mention crossing a road. Where on earth was I?? Runkeeper app to the rescue! I had run about 1.5 miles in the wrong direction. Sigh.

Lesson learned: If you cross a cool set of stepping stones, but the trail description doesn't mention them, you've probably gone the wrong way.

Cool stepping stones that weren't mentioned in the trail description.

After a quick water break at the car, I went in the correct direction. Not much is eventful, other than I need to get better at climbing hills, and maybe not as averse to rocky terrain.

Back on track! Much better.

I checked out the confluence of Difficult Run and the Potomac and doubled back onto the main trail. I passed a few hikers, 3 trail runners, and a gaggle of rock climbers setting up their top ropes. A couple miles later, I had reached what was, in my head, the "halfway" point: the views of the falls.

Great Falls, from one of the viewpoints.

Having only ever entered the park from the main entrance, I was a little spun around and spent a few minutes figuring out how to ~~convince the early bbq-ers to give me a burger~~ get back onto the trails that would make a loop and bring me back to my car. It turns out the Old Carriage Road is broad and easy to run on. The merge onto the Swamp Trail was easy single track (although only foot traffic is permitted) and not swampy at all. A few more turns, and I was back at el coche, with only one scrape on my shin.

Legs were muddier than they appear.

Not surprisingly, RunKeeper performed better at figuring out where I was outside of the city. It also thinks that I run straighter, too. Oddly, though, it did not record my first 1.5 miles in the wrong direction. Total distance, per RunKeeper: 6.8 miles. Actual distance: closer to 7.5 miles.

I had a quick refuel of a PB sandwich and loads of water/Nuun. Just for kicks, I decided to time the drive back home: 32 minutes.

Happy Fourth of July!

Ski Musings in July

2011-07-01T10:54:00.003-04:00

For the time being, a photo of me is featured on the splash page of theSkiDiva.com, an online forum for women skiers. I'm the skier in blue, although I'm not exactly skiing in the photo. And, it's an awesome honor to be sharing the splash page with altagirl. Check it out (if it's still there - photos get updated periodically), and stop by the forum, too. While I am sure this is not the case for altagirl,
what I've discovered over the years is that a perk of being the ~~slowest~~ skier who's on the cusp of greatness among a group of great skiers is that I get my photo taken a lot. Now you all know my secret....I am really a photo whore and skiing slow is just an act.

Kim Kircher's post yesterday on her blog reminded me that I want to live in a mountain town. I'm not sure why I needed reminding; I've been saying this with my outside voice for 6 years now. And for the past 2 years, a friend in Bend, OR (aka, hardcore athlete capital of the world), has been lobbying for me to move there. She and her husband have tried to entice me by inviting me to join their Pole Pedal Paddle team and with stories of skiing all 12 months of the year. Alas, the closest I got to living in Bend was a stint in Seattle for six months last year and early this year.

She emailed me again this week, this time saying that she had a friend in my field who was teaching at the local extension of OSU and that I should try to get a job there, too. Never mind that 1) there are no openings and 2) the only things I've ever taught are rowing, the Federal Advisory Committee Act (to hunters in Montana, of all things), and new this year, yoga. None of these subjects are ~~those that I'm currently making the big bucks with~~ ~~in my field of expertise~~ going to pay the rent and maintain my rockstar lifestyle, and so my 2010-11 ski season ended in late April, after a whopping 22 days on planks.

So here it is, July 1, and many pals in western ski towns are skiing this weekend as la Niña was kind this year (of course after I left Seattle!). Hope everyone who doesn't have summer wax their skis on makes a few turns for me!

Mudder Fudder, or Yikes! What Did I Get Myself Into?!

2011-06-27T23:03:00.005-04:00

So in the middle of last week, I received an email, the text of which went something like this:

In one of the more extreme bits of optimism in human history, my friend the Artist and I just signed up for this: <http://toughmudder.com/events/virginia/>. This will be... interesting. You are welcome to throw your hat into the ring too; I think another friend just registered. We are scheduled (ha!) for 10:20 on Sunday.

I wrote back:

Hah! Okay, so I looked on my calendar, thinking that for sure I had something planned that day....and, well, I don't. Actually, what my calendar says is "60MIN CROSS TRAIN."

Do you really think I can do a 10 to 12-mile obstacle course? Holy crap. Wait. You have to time yourself? What kind of crazy thing is this???

Let me sit with this for an hour or two.

Actually, had I looked on my schedule for SUNDAY and not SATURDAY, it would have said "8 mile run." Anyway, my friend wrote back:

It is pretty crazy. And I think the chances of me making it there are probably about 70% since I'll have to feel much better by then. But it seemed like a good motivator and something fun.

Wait, you have a cross-training day planned 4 months in advance??

Uhm, righto.....yes, I do have a cross-training day planned 4 months in advance. But that's because I have every intention of training for and peaking at the Marine Corps Marathon 10K (or what I dub the Marathon's poor ignored stepbrother) after the Army 10-Miler.

But let's get back to the issue at hand. Within an hour, I had registered for a 1:20pm start for the über testosterone-laden Virginia Tough Mudder on SATURDAY, October 22. Then I re-read the email thread, realized that my friends were doing it on SUNDAY, October 23, at 10:20am, and slapped my forehead onto my keyboard. So now, not only am I in a panic about surviving the obstacle course, but I also have to hope that my registration arrived too late to guarantee a Saturday entry, which will allow me a free transfer into Sunday's event. Fingers crossed. Otherwise I'll be paying up the wazoo to transfer. Gah!

And what exactly is Tough Mudder? Well, here's how it's described on the website:

Tough Mudder is not your average lame-ass mud run or spirit-crushing ‘endurance’ road race. It’s Ironman meets Burning Man, and it is coming to a location near you. Our 10-12 mile obstacle courses are designed by British Special Forces to test all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie. Forget finish times. Simply completing a Tough Mudder is a badge of honor. Tough Mudder has raised over one million dollars for the Wounded Warrior Project.

WARNING: Tough Mudder is 3-4 times longer and MUCH TOUGHER than a typical mud run such as Warrior Dash. On average, only 78% of participants finish the event. Only those in reasonably strong physical condition should enter.

This weekend's Tough Mudder training consisted of looking for monkey bars in a city playground to practice swinging myself over raging rivers...I'll be all set for October, right?

Just Another Manic Wednesday

2011-06-23T08:33:00.013-04:00

Well, the tweet basically sums up my Wednesday.

I knew going in that I had a slim, outside chance of being chosen for Nuun's all-female, all-blogger Hood to Coast -- the mother of all relays -- team. After all, this blog was dormant for a year, only to be revived again as I moved out west...and then pretty silent afterward. And, well, the topics on here aren't exactly focused, either. Then there was the whole running thing, which has been on hiatus as well. Finally, my readers are more of the lurking type, rather than the chirpy commenting type, which makes sense because I know who you are, and half of you can't tell me what your real jobs are, anyway.

Moments before Nuun was to announce the team (which turned into teams), a yogi pal emailed, saying that he and two other friends of his had, in a fit of optimism, just registered for the Virginia Tough Mudder in October. I was already jittery from the impending announcement, but I looked at the Tough Mudder website, the dates of the event, gasped at the actual obstacles, checked my calendar (saw that I had cross training scheduled for that day), and closed my web browser.

Then I picked up some lunch.

Some 15 minutes later, I peeked at Nuun's blog and saw that it had posted its list of 20 bloggers who would be racing Hood to Coast under the electrolyte replacement drink's auspices.

I ate my lunch. Hey, at least now I didn't need to shell out major cashish this summer to fly out to Seattle, and I could go to the Brian Kest workshop at StudioDC that I had already paid for that weekend. And I hardly embarrassed myself in the process. I think.

After lunch, I got an email from Nuun. They thanked me for my application and are sending me a care package...now that's pretty cool. Is it too much to ask for a pair of these rad socks, too?

See, I'll need a pair for Tough Mudder. That's right. While I was multitasking post-lunch, I signed myself up for the endurance test. Except, I accidentally signed myself up for the SATURDAY race, rather than the Sunday one that my friends are in! Ack!! Seriously, I don't think I can make it through the course without my friends....the second "obstacle" involves getting hit with a pressure hose. Uhm, I'm all of 97 pounds -- that thing is going to knock me over. And that's only the second obstacle. What have I gotten myself into??

Weirdest Running Injury Yet

2011-06-21T22:26:00.003-04:00

Never thought I'd get this sort of running injury -- chafed back!

Oh, man. The latest running injury is a doozy.
So, this morning was incredibly humid, as though the atmosphere did not know whether to rain.

I knew that I had gotten sunburn (top, and yes, that's a burn on me; I am making up
for the vitamin D deficiency I acquired in Seattle) over the weekend up by my neck, so when a spot on my back started stinging after 2 miles this morning, I assumed that it was the sunburn, sweat, and Camelback combo. Actually, it was the racerback tank, sweat, and Camelback combo, which makes sense because I'd only worn technical tee's when running with my Camelback in the past. Ooof. Now I have practically a hole in my back.

On transience.

2011-06-20T22:49:00.008-04:00

This is one of those cliché essays from any number of writers who were at any time based in D.C. The essay starts by discussing how each year, the U.S. capital attracts the best, the brightest, and the bushiest tailed (uhh...) who stick around for a few years before moving on to greener pastures. Then the essay will lament for a few sentences about the transience of the city. And by city, the writer is really
referring to one of the following: 1) one and a half quadrants of D.C., as the District is, like many cities, divided into quadrants, only one and a half of which really are occupied by a geographically mobile population; 2) Arlington, VA; 3) Montgomery County, MD; or 4) that town way the hell out at the end of a Metro line where your cousins live but yet they still refer to themselves as being from D.C. So, naturally, at this point is where the writer makes that clichéd joke about how he's lived in D.C. for five years, which makes him a local, given how transient the city is. Insert canned laughter. Man, I feel bad for the two real locals that I know.

Although I've done stints in New York, Boston, and Seattle, I've lived in D.C. for well over a decade. When I tell newcomers this, their eyes bug out. I've often said that if one sticks around here long enough, almost everyone passes through at some point. The key phrase, of course, is "passes through."

This year, the first casualty of the transient nature of D.C. was one of my 2008 Ragnar Relay teammates. The saddest thing about this team is that although in October 2008 we all lived within 15 or so miles of each other, now, less than 3 years later, only half of us are still here. The most recent defection went down like this: one day the resident graphic designer who created the Turtleslugs logo for our Ragnar singlets was playing guitar at a house concert in Adams Morgan, and the next thing I knew, he'd tossed his guitar, MacBook, and running shoes into the Subaru, strapped the kayak on top, and he was off. This was every bit as dramatic as I depict it, too. Really.

Über-supported shoulderstand, during teacher training.

The second casualty will be one of my gal pals from yoga teacher training. In a little over a week, she heads out of state for a bit before ultimately landing in Europe. Admittedly, I was one of the first people to initially leave D.C. after the training was over, as I drove out west to Seattle merely days after the final weekend. But, I returned! Whether my gal pal does the same remains to be seen, as she's got a fantastic journey lined up for her in Florence, Italy. I'm sure that what comes her way will reboot her by offering a different perspective...sort of like inversions (hehe, a super forced attempt to make the photo relevant).

No matter how long I've been here, having friends leave the area never gets easier, even if they wind up in an awesome place to visit, like Florence. Rarely does someone who leaves D.C. return, and I could spend a year just traveling around the continent, if not the globe, piecing together the friends that like threads woven together reflect the tapestry of my life. Wow. What a Hallmark-worthy metaphor.

Bon voyage, Bri. I'll keep you posted on the latest about your favorite Iyengar teacher if you whip up some crazy Italian dish the next time you're in town.

------
Check out Bri's musings at Sin Zapatos.

Go, Go Gadget Legs!

2011-06-17T23:11:00.000-04:00

Last week, my friend Beth sent me a pedometer. Her office is doing a month-long fitness contest where everyone's put on a team and together they record the number of steps they take a day. The team that takes the most steps wins. I told her that I had gone for a run earlier in the week and resorted to counting steps to make it through that first mile where your legs are still figuring out what the heck is happening. And by "counting steps," I really mean "counted to 10 over and over again after I got to 70, until I passed the White House and had to deal with rush-hour traffic and forgot to count to 10."

Somehow, this translated into "Stephanie needs a pedometer!" and sure enough, one arrived, and after walking to work last Friday, I put on the pedometer at 9:15am. Apparently the rest of the day, I clocked all of 4,635 steps (1.64 miles). Ack. 10,000 steps is what they tell people to aspire to. I had a run scheduled for the next day, and I was thinking that if things didn't improve, I'd have to reconsider calling myself an active individual. Sure enough, Saturday consisted of 17,728 steps (7.51 miles). Phew. As for the remaining days of the week, they went like this:

Sunday: 13,530, 4.77 miles
Monday: 7,068, 2.51 miles
Tuesday: 7,521, 2.72 miles
Wednesday: 14,965, 6.21 miles
Thursday: 11,824, 5.31 miles

Now, I have no idea how accurate this pedometer is. It's digital, which is a step up from the analog one that my dad gave my brother one year for Christmas. Don't ask. We're not sure why my brother got a pedometer for Christmas. I do remember us shaking it vigorously to make the counter go up, though... Anyway, this newfangled pedometer also purports to measure distance, but because I've never calibrated it, I have no idea how it knows how long my stride is. And I've already thrown out the instructions. And the biggest flaws are that the pedometer doesn't count when you're going up steps or steep hills, nor does it count the first four steps after a stop. The latter makes a difference if I hit too many red lights -- take Wednesday's number, when I was 35 steps short of 15,000 steps. 35 steps could have easily been lost over 10 blocks. And the walking up steps thing? Well, let's just say that I take the stairs often, and boy, would I be annoyed if I did a hill workout and it didn't register on this pedometer. Finally, the pedometer bulges on my waistline if I'm in work clothes, doesn't clip onto a dress, and otherwise looks like a pager...seriously, who other than Search and Rescue volunteers have pagers anymore?

Pedometer, Timex watch, and RunKeeper app for Android

This all brings me to a nifty smartphone app that another friend, Jonathan, showed me today: RunKeeper. Let's get this straight. I am not a GPS, Garmin or otherwise a gadget girl. Gadgets require keeping batteries alive, and half the stuff that I do is in the cold, which isn't known for battery longevity. Also, I have been known to drive a particular running route to figure out its distance, even though I owned Nike+ running shoes and an iPod. Instead, I'm a devoted user of gmaps pedometer, a Google Maps hack, and all of its lovable glitches...like not letting me automatically "run" down a one-way street or the C&O Canal Towpath (these things are no longer issues, although....they may or may not be the reason I was driving running routes), and my Timex watch. And while I also don't like running while holding anything bigger than my keys, one reason RunKeeper makes sense is that I run to/from work and my phone is already in my backpack. Another reason is that the app keeps track of other activities. Like downhill skiing. I could probably rig it to track my hikes, too. How rad is that? Phresheez, you may have some competition here, especially if RunKeeper doesn't kill my battery...

Foray into the Barefoot Realm

2011-06-16T23:48:00.003-04:00

For a few years now, barefoot running has been the buzz. The theory is that most of our incorrect foot mechanics are borne from overly cushioned shoes weakening our muscles and ligaments and that many running injuries would dissipate (if not completely disappear) if we ran barefoot. Of course, this topic's been controversial, and last week's New York Times Well Blog reported on a few studies where people actually acquired new injuries after running in minimalist shoes, as the "barefoot" shoes are called.

A year or two ago, I tried on a pair of Vibram FiveFingers. I found them tricky because my feet are not only not the same size, they are also a complete half size different from each other. Plus, the shoes look weird. There's only so much I want to stick out when walking to work past the White House. Although, I did get a kick out of seeing FiveFingers footprints in the mud when hiking once.

Lavender Lustre Merrell Barefoot Pure Gloves

But, last month, I accidentally picked up a pair of Merrell Barefoot Pure Gloves. I was actually just looking for low profile shoes, preferably ballet flats, to wear on my walk to work, and I had no idea that the Merrells that I ordered were minimalist shoes. What struck me was that the soles of the Merrells are contoured in the arch, rather than completely flat like ballet flats. Nevertheless, after a few days of wearing the Merrells, the arches on both feet were tired and achy. By the end of the first week, the muscles/ligaments around my right metatarsals were sore, too, and I freaked myself out into thinking that I had a stress fracture. Little by little, those muscle and ligaments got conditioned to the new shoes and the arches got less tired.

Now, roughly a month later, here's what I notice:

Toe stubs HURT. Just saying. I mean, it would hurt if I were in ballet flats or sandals, too, but for some reason, the sturdy construction of the rubber sole (which is actually Vibram material) tricked me into thinking that a toe stub was going to be less painful. It's not.
I stomp/land really hard on my heels. Which I guess is what all the barefoot running people are saying is what overly cushioned shoes have allowed us to do. In fact, people who study foot biomechanics argue that the proper foot strike is in the mid foot, with a shorter stride, which is what minimalist shoes assist runners in developing. However, my shoes are minimalist walking shoes, and I have no idea whether when walking we're supposed to have a rear foot or mid foot strike. But, I'm definitely landing too hard on concrete. Ow.
People have complimented me on these shoes! Like the guy in the elevator who asked whether they were Vibram FiveFingers (uh, if they were FiveFingers, they'd have five....fingers) and three co-workers. Maybe it's just because mine are lavender!

Accessing the Core

2011-06-09T23:35:00.002-04:00

So, two or three years ago, I got the memo that I had no idea how to "access my core." Now that I write this out, it sort of has a nuclear reactor ring to it, doesn't it? At any rate, I had limped onto the physical therapist's table, and she had asked me to engage my abs. And I thought that I contracted my abs, if holding one's breath counted as contracting one's abs. For whatever reason, I always thought the instruction to "suck in your belly" was just for show. Apparently I'd been recruiting other core muscles further south (hi, psoas!) to do a lot of work that my abs were supposed to do. Take my navasana, boat pose. That was almost all hip flexors keeping me upright. Whoops. Anyway....at least I now knew why my yoga arm balances were -- ah -- not Yoga Journal-worthy!

I'm still not great at strengthening my core. But, in the past, weak abs and also a weak gluteus medius plagued my running. So, this summer and fall, I'm incorporating Pilates into my road race training regimen, in hopes of staving off future muscular imbalances.

I've always been intrigued by the Pilates apparatuses, but the idea of dropping in to a class full of people who already know how to use the torture devices was intimidating. Mariska Breland, the innovator of Fuse Pilates in DC, has solved this issue by not only opening the Fuse Pilates studio this month, but also having a Meet the Machines class. Aside from my mind just now doing a word association to Terminator: Rise of the Machines, I find that a "get acquainted to the apparatuses" class is brilliant. By the way, Fuse Pilates is way more entertaining than vanilla Pilates.

I'm registered to Meet the Machines this weekend. Wish me and my core muscles good luck!

Na-nuun, Na-nuun (with apologies to Mork)

2011-06-01T08:13:00.004-04:00

nuun, oh how I <3 thee!

My relationship with nuun began in the summer of 2008. It's a convoluted story that involves getting hit by a car while training for the Army 10-Miler and the inaugural Ragnar Relay in DC, a really crappy primary care physician who informed me over voice mail after I'd just seen him once that I had diabetes (a misdiagnosis), and so many fasting blood draws that the eyes of my elbows were bruised for most of September. In short, I needed a sugar-free electrolyte replacement drink and found nuun.

Since my 2008 ATM and Ragnar debut, I burned out on running, utterly flailed at my next ATM a year later (although I greatly appreciated the random hot guy who cheered me on over the interminable 14th Street Bridge), and just plain old re-sold my entry last year. Granted, I was living in Seattle in October 2010. Now, I'm registered for the 2011 race, but I'm completely and utterly out of running shape.

To wit: yesterday's early morning easy run was kind of brutal. My legs were dead from too much yoga on Monday. It was 78˚F when I set out and the relative humidity was 79%. It was only 6:45a.m. In May. How on earth would I manage doing speedwork in August??

And then, the part that most confounds me about myself is that I was intrigued by an invitation that nuun extended via Facebook to women bloggers (hey, that's me! if you count sporadic posts....) to apply to be a part of its Hood to Coast team this August. Didn't running both Ragnar and the ATM within a week of each other already turn me off from running for over 2 years? And aren't I out of shape? On the other hand, I'd be a lot more diligent with training if there was something external keeping me accountable.

So, those little gears in my head are already spinning, and my poor wimpy quads are quaking -- why are they always the last to know what's going on? Stepping off a cross country flight, meeting 11 other women (hello, estrogen!), and then spending the next 24 hours either running or in a van with 5 of them is a pretty intriguing mental, physical and social challenge. Mt. Hood? Never seen it up close. Oregon coast? Nope, not that, either. Could this be the year? Pick me! Pick me!

Tux Redux

2011-05-08T17:45:00.002-04:00

Then: On the Sherby, April 25, 2009

In late April, I headed to New Hampshire for the first time in two years. Actually, it was almost two years to the day of when I had first gone to Tuckerman Ravine, most definitely got my tush handed to me on a platter on the climb, and through sheer willpower alone skied Left Gully without major mishap. Note to the uninitiated: heavy alpine skis are fantastic on the downhill, but are wicked heavy on one's back. Just sayin'.

The plan this time was to fly up to Manchester early Friday morning, and because the weather forecast for Friday was more promising than Saturday's forecast, drive straight up to Pinkham Notch and skin or hike up either the Gulf of Slides Ski Trail or the Tuckerman Ravine Trail, respectively. Oh, and also to bring my alpine touring setup, which was at least four pounds lighter than my alpine setup.

It turned into a gorgeous day on the drive into the mountains. The overcast skies in Manchester had turned into bright sun, Santana was on the satellite radio, and the sunroof on my unexpected upgrade rental car was open. Can it get better than that?? (Answer: yes)

I arrived at Pinkham Notch at noon. Not ideal, of course, but on the other hand, five hours earlier I was in Washington, D.C. The overflow lots were packed and cars lined Rt. 16. Apparently, half the world had listened when the prior day's avalanche report advised taking a sick day on Friday.

Now: Obligatory Bowl from HoJo's photo, April 22, 2011.

By 12:40, I was on the TRT, hiking. I'd wanted to do Gulf of Slides, but I opted for the TRT because it was a known quantity, and I was low on fuel (see lunch contents below). My pack was lighter than it was in 2009, which is to say it was less than 1/3 of my body weight. Phew. It translated into being 30 minutes faster on the ascent to HoJo's and arriving just before 2:10. I even passed eight people on the way up. This is HUGE. If you've ever climbed with me, you know that I am sloooow on the uphill.

If I had planned things better, I would have had more than a vending machine-sized package of peanut M&Ms (which I had actually eaten on the drive up), an apple, a Luna Bar, and 2 energy chews for lunch, and I would have gone into the Bowl to hang out with the 1500-2000 or so people that were estimated to be there. Instead, I skied down the Sherby, which was in pretty decent condition save for the last twenty feet, and called it a lovely day.

On Online Photo Contests....

2011-05-07T17:43:00.004-04:00

At the end of April, I was online shopping for yoga pants. This means that I was on the Athleta online store because it's the only store I know whose petite length pants means "perfect for my legs." Until I discovered Athleta, I always did yoga in shorts, à la Iyengar practitioners, because at least shorts were not often too long. So, two weeks ago, while I was online shopping, I saw a banner for a Facebook photo contest. In a nutshell, submit a photo, write your fitness goals in the caption and get votes. The top 10 vote-getters would then be considered for the grand prize, chosen by Athleta judges, and grand prize was a workout outfit for the winner's sport of choice and a to/fro outfit. So, I figured, what the heck. I was going to buy clothes anyway, why not see what buzz I could generate on the interwebs about myself.

I submitted this photo that the Transporter took when we drove through Grand Teton National Park last July. Yes, I know that my foot is in the wrong place for vrksasana....balance is not my thing. It should be noted that I am wearing Athleta pants in the photo, although I think it was the 4th or 5th day in a row... Unfortunately, I sort of messed up with the caption for the contest - I didn't put down my fitness goals, which, in case you're interested, include getting a PR in the Army 10-Miler this year. But, I did manage to come in 6th place in the contest, with over 70 votes coming in the final morning of the contest! What a surprise!

See, Generation Xers, which I and most of the people whom I know are, are sort of hit or miss when it comes to social networking - some of us have embraced it with gusto and others, not so much. When we started college, the internet existed mostly in BBS form, NCSA Mosaic was the only web browser, and the final project in Comp Sci 101 classes across campuses was to build a web page. So, I had no idea whether I'd get more than a few votes (thanks, Mom!). In the end, I'm thrilled at the number of people who voted for me, and keeping my fingers crossed that Athleta chooses me (the winner is announced May 11).

You're only lost if you don't know where you are

2010-12-27T17:40:00.001-05:00

Back in November, I took a navigation course with the Seattle-based Mountaineers, which seems like a pretty cool organization, other than the fact that when I arrived 15 minutes early to the evening portion of the course on a school night, the room was already half full of eager beavers gathered around tables, marking things off on their USGS quads, and not talking to each other. And I thought I was early. Jeez. It got worse - on the day of the practical portion (which I opted to do on the day that Daylight Savings ended so that my 4:30am wake-up call would really feel like 5:30am), I inadvertently arrived a blistering 45 minutes early to the trailhead....and several participants -- not instructors -- were already there. Wow.

After all that, though, I think you all should know that while I may not be able to figure out where I am in the backcountry, the course taught me how to be wicked good at following a bearing. I think that still leaves me lost. :)