More on that later.

Dear Diary,

This week I decided I wasn't hydrating enough. As in, I go all day barely drinking anything. To get me back into the habit of drinking regularly, I've started drinking diet soda and flavored water to make me more likely to drink.

Cheaper than coffee.

But do you think the doctors where I work appreciate that? Noooooo. Yesterday, I walked into rounds and plopped this into the middle of the table:

 

 

 

Shrieking and hysterics ensued.

What is THAT? What's in there? What are you drinking?

Before I continue with my story it behooves me to introduce new characters: Dr. Zen and Dr. Drama.

Both are MDs, hence the unsolicited advice on my 64-ounce morning repast. Both are board certified specialists, which is why they work with me on the children's psychiatric unit.

Dr. Zen has been a child psychiatrist for decades, He's often pretty mellow, though he is not without some occasional flights of fancy. He does a lot of thinking, often for so long that he needs reminding, "we'll know what you're thinking when it's in the chart. Please put it in the chart." He haaaaates technology and is quite put out and offended by its intrusion into his life. I can't communicate with him by any other means than telephone. But when he does write his reports they are quite an entertaining read. They are a lengthy narrative containing every detail one could need on the life of a child in our unit. He teaches all the kids breathing and meditation, and spends hours with families in person or on the phone. He is much more interested in getting kids services and therapy than most. He looks a little like John Denver.

Dr. Drama really, really wants to be mellow, but he's prone to exageration and some catastrophising. He gets a bit dramatic at times, e.g., "can you call [dr. X] in [town]? I can't speak to him! He makes my ears bleed!" This said with much emphasis and some flailing, and then perhaps anecdotes. Note: Dr. Drama hates, for the record, the nickname Dr. Drama, so shhhhhh. His reports are tight, structured, clear, rarely contain adverbs but use words and phrases that frankly, I think are overly complicated. "... hit his head on the wall, causing epitaxis." (Nosebleed). Or, "several self-inflicted cuts on her left lateral iliac crest" (hip). Dr. Drama likes technology. It's not unusual to get a text from him: pls find play thrpst for 12 y.o. Fem. that takes BCBS. (Please find me a play therapist for a 12 year old girl that takes Blue Cross insurance) perhaps at 7 on a Saturday night, for his clinic patients, which is not part of my duties. And then i do, and he buys me chocolate. It's a system that's working well.

ANYway, I figured that for the morning I'd better come clean and get all the recriminations out of the way. Like ripping off a bandaid.

"What I have here, gentlemen, is Diet Mountain Dew, and a little fruit punch. I'm trying to hydrate more. And some ice," I added.

The furor that followed surprised even me. I sipped my half gallon of caffeinated goodness calmly, while they freaked out.

Apparently, not fans of diet soda. They told me I'm killing myself slowly with my 64 ounces of poison in a cup. It might as well be antifreeze. I'm messing with neuroreceptors in my brain! Why can't I just drink water? With a little LEMON? Oh, THE HUMANITY! MOUNTAIN DEW IS PEOPLE!! PEEEEOPPLLLLLLLL!!!

 

The lecture and arguing over my choice of breakfast beverages lasted about twenty minutes, and then it was over. I promise to try drinking some plain water, can we get on to talking about patients please?

For the record, I am the lead social worker and therapist for a 12-bed inpatient children's unit (soon to be 16 beds, More on that later.) at a local hospital. I've spent much of the past 3-4 months months while Sweet Baboo has been at various army trainings (More on that later.) reading and studying and attending workshops honing skills in the area of CBT play therapy. I use sandtray for now, mainly.

Behold my collection:

And yes, it is fun collectiong them. I frequently find myself reluctant to let anyone, much less a child, play with a new miniature I've bought. But then. I get over myself.

Last Sunday, I did an Olympic tri, the first triathlon I've done in several years. Ugh. It was fun. Sorta. But kinda hard. I have serious reservations about the upcoming. Ironman Boulder. More on that later.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Just imagine there are pictures: thursday 13

Dear Diary,

The wind is blowing like crazy outside and I am curled up under a quilt with Sweet Baboo, three cats, and Tom Waits keeping me warm. Getting up to put the promised pictures of the exercise room profiles of runs, and such, would involve leaving this all behind. Sooooo...placeholders for now.

don't you know there's no devil; it's God when he's drunk?

13.  Friday, two mothers and their respective children showed up at 3 pm, each claiming a 3:00 appointment.  Unfortunately, they were both correct: someone had double booked me.  I saw one at 3, and the other graciously agreed to wait until 4. 

Lunch had been Lean Gourmet Swedish Meatballs, and the package of Trader Joes Peanut Butter Goodies cookies that my Secret santa left in my inbox.  Urp.  I started eating Lean Gourmet because it's all I really have time for, and at the BX, it's about 80 cents.  NO, i do not want to know how high in sodium it is, or that there is a list of ingredients with chemical names longer than Moby Dick.

 It's food. It's cheap, it's portion-controlled, and it's pallatable.

12.  Saturday, I ran about 4 miles on the trail.  My legs felt heavy, which was attributed to the lunges and squats I had done during the previous week. Then, i went to a holiday party with the people who work with Baboo.

Each year I make the same potlock meal: curried yams, and brown rice. It's vegetarian, it's yummy, and it's wildly popular. I take home an empty dish.   But here's the thing: only Sweet Baboo's coworkers, psychologists, eat it.  My fellow counselors or social workers don't touch it. Ever. What's up with that?

11.  Sunday, I did 14 miles of a planned 50K FatAss that will be held on New Year's Day.  Here is the profile:

*placeholder for missing run profile here*

10.  Monday, Lunch was Lean Gourmet flatbread.  It wasn't bad.  It was the size of my hand.  I recognize that this is a normal portion.  Also on monday, I found out that the kid whol told me Friday I'm not fucking going upstairs with you for an assessment was hospitalized over the weekend. I told her so.

9. Also on Monday, it snowed. Again. We have had an unprecedented amount of snow so far this winter. Right now, as I'm typing this, the wind is howling and more snow is coming down, and they have closed I40. 

Now, New Mexico I thought we had a deal: you give me moderate, sunny winters, and I look the other way regarding the whole dust thing.  What happened?

*placeholder for snow pictures here*

8. Tuesday, I went to a local hospital's psych ward to see a kid that had tried to escape. He went over the wall around the facility the day before carrying, of all things, his lunch box.  

Also on Tuesday, I couldn't find my car keys. Anywhere.  I finally went outside to see if I left them in the car, and behold: they were there. 

In the ignition.

With the car running.

Yes, that's right. I parked my car at noon, got out, leaving my car running in the parking lot for four hours.  In th parking lot of a mental hospital. Have you ever done anything so stupid? I say you have not.  

Tuesday's lunch was Santa Fe Beans and Rice (Lean Cuisine).

7.  By the way: Lollicup.com Sugar-free flavoring syrups for coffee.  I'm just sayin'. It's the secret to me being a morning person.

6. Wednesday, the lunch of the day was shrimp scampi from Lean Gourmet. That night, we ate with folks from my the office at a local steakhouse, and the starters menu had calorie counts after each choice. It. Was. Horrifying. Few starters were under 1000 calories. I wound up having a 6 ounce fillet with sweet potato fries, and steamed brocolli.  I was very proud of myself. 

5, Most of the people I work with are in their mid-twenties. It was an interesting evening.  I found out things that I never knew about my coworkers.  Like, nearly all of them are half my age. 

4. Also wednesday, i had to caution an adult who wouldn't shut up and let me ask about their kid. It was all, me, me, me.  I get that people with disordered kids are grateful to find anyone who will listen to them but I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THE VOICES IN YOUR HEAD. I DO NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THE VOICES IN JUNIOR's HEAD. 

3. Also on Wednesday, I made the following law, called GeekGirl's law no. 5150: 

if you name your kid Chaos, don't complain to me about his behavior.  

Ever.

Also, Greek Goddesses. I'm just sayin'. Greek mythology is a soap opera, so you're asking for trouble by naming your kid after one of the principle players.

Unless you're Greek, and then it's okay.

2. Also on wednesday, i discovered that 1) all seasons of 'Bones' are on Netlix, and 2) apple tv has closed captioning.  Thus, my new winter running is in place, in my new exercise room.  Bliss!!!

Pictures:

*placeholder for missing exercise room pictures here*

1. Okay. Here it is, my 50-mile running plan.  I hope this formats right. I used to code in HTML and am perfectly capable of creating a table, but why do that when I can copy and paste from Numbers?  

Recall: I. Am Lazy.

Week of:      Week. M.    T.     W.    Th.   F.    S.    Su.   Total

Dec 5, 2011 1 0 2 2 2 0 8 6 20

Dec 12, 2011 2 0 2 2 4 0 10 6 24

Dec 19, 2011 3 0 2 2 4 0 12 8 28

Dec 26, 2011 4 0 2 4 6 0 14 8 34

Jan 6, 2012 5 0 4 4 6 0 16 10 40

Jan 13, 2012 6 0 4 6 6 0 18 10 44

Jan 20, 2012 7 0 4 6 8 0 20 10 48

Jan 27, 2012 8 4 8 6 0 0 10 8 36

Feb 6, 2012 9 4 8 8 0 0 22 10 52

Feb 13, 2012 10 0 4 10 8 0 22 10 54

Feb 20, 2012 11 0 4 10 8 0 24 10 56

Feb 27, 2012 12 0 4 10 6 0 10 8 38

Mar 5, 2012 13 0 4 12 8 0 0 31 55

Mar 12, 2012 14 0 4 12 8 0 24 10 58

Mar 19, 2012 15 0 4 12 8 0 26 10 60

Mar 26, 2012 16 0 4 10 8 0 16 10 48

Mar 5, 2012 17 0 4 6 6 0 10 6 32

Mar 12, 2012 18 4 3 2 0 0 50 59

Each week I will post that week's running plan and the actual mileage, making me direrctly accountable to the half dozen people who still read this blog :-/

Last week, i was 2 miles short on my training plan.  This week, i was 2.3 miles short. 

The week day runs are all treadmill. The weekend runs are all on the hilly trails behind our house.

Ta-daaaaa!

...

Friday 14 - The Seattle Travel Edition.

Dear Diary,

The Zensah Ankle sleeve.

14.  I am back home where, predictably, I was missed at work.  It's good to be missed.  The 20-something who lives 2 offices down, for instance, bounced by my office yesterday and said, Oh,Misty,I'mSoGladYou'reBack. ImissedYourEnergy!!!

13. This whole ankle thing has gotten old. It's on average about twice a year that I sprain my right anke. But there's nothing and buying eqUipment won't fix, right?



Stupid ankle.

Nemo?  Where are you nemo?

12. Meanwhile, the ankle is still swollen. Ooo, and ug-lay. Behold. This is day four, after wearing a sock all day. I spent most of the day sitting, too.

It's a Port, After all.

Himself.

11. But I can walk on it just fine. Up stairs, down stairs. I wore heels. No problem. But I can't touch it. Owie.  Stupid ankle.

10. Seattle was beautiful. Despite a forecast of rain for five days out of seven, it sprinled lightly early one morning and then never rained again.

On day one, we ate Indian buffet for lunch out with Baboo's Dad, who is also a psychologist and was in town for a DBT conference.

9. Day 2, we went to Pike Street Market, and had coffee at the original Starbucks. Then went to the REI flagship store. Then I had a stragith shot of espresso. Then we went running trails at Cougar Mountain. Then Had dinner with Dad Baboo at the cheesecake factory.

One of the many musicians along the waterfront.
We saw banjos, a capellasin ging, guitars,
and this guy, to name a few.

8. Day 3, we got up early and deove along the Olympic Peninsula. Baboo ran a 10k through the Hoh rain forest, and I hiked about four miles. It was so cool, mossy and dark. We drove back along the Pacific, stopping to look for shells. There weren't any. Mostly, there were rocks and driftwood,

7. Being fit is awesome. Loud tourists near you? No problem: run away.  Big-assed hills?  So what?  I was at sea level, practically swimming in oxygen.  Until day 4, I felt like I could run forever.

Best sandwich ever IN MY LIFE.  Shrimp and bacon club,
with sweet potatoe fries, at the Cheesecake Factory.
This was two meals for me.

6. Day 4 was the race. Stupid ankle. I would have been at least fourth, possibly third, in my division of my ankle hadn't given out.

Well. There is always next year.

Stupid ankle.

5. Day 5, drove to Vancouver, which is beautiful, expensive, and doesn't "do" iced tea. We went on a suspension bridge. We avoided buying gas there which was, apparenly, 140.8. I have to assume that is cents, per liter. On the way bome, we stopped in Bellingham, and ate at Anthony's on the waterfront. I had crab and a small steak.

I discovered that the persistant queasiness I'd had on and off was because of the outgassing from the leather seats in the rental car.

Peroshky, Peroshky!!
Mine was smoked salmon

Red velvet cheesecake, finished with white chocolate.
I finished this over 3 days.

It occurs to me that most of
my travel pictures are about food.
That seems wrong, somehow.
(Top Pot Donuts)

4. Day 6, we slept in, then drove into town and ate at Top Pot donuts, which had the best coffee on the trip. Oh, and donuts. We cruised through the market on Pike Street again, particularly an antique store and a place that sold old ads and magazines. We walked through Olympic Park. WHERE MY ANKLE WAS JUST FINE.

Stupid ankle.

We ate dinner at Paolo's in Kent.  It was great.  The food was wonderful.

Suspension bridge in Vancouver.
Can you find the Baboo?

"We don't do iced tea."

I can see Alaska from my porch.

Van Burien Press' fairly uninspiring menu board.

Olympic Park

3. Day 7, we slept in, and had coffee at the Van Burien Press, despite our Nuvi's attempts to keep us in Seattle.  Really, Nuvi had some kind of nervous breakdown in Seattle, where everything is a freeway.  Like, we would be sitting at a red light, not moving, not even in very heavy traffic, and suddenly out of the silence Nuvi would say, "RECALCULATING". uM, what?  recalculating what?  We're not even moving!

Anyway.  The Coffee at Van Burien press was so so. The barista seemed somewhat uninspired.  We were subjected to a very, very loud conversation between three high caffeinated new-agers that were going on, ad nausea, and youknowthere'saforceintheuniversethatformsbetweenusandthemoonandthesunreallyscientistshaveactuallymeasureditandicanFEELit.Ican.Imantrathatshit,youknow.

Aussie!  Aussie!  Aussie!  I had a chicken and asparagus
pie.

We sat around for a few hours, and then had lunch at Aussie Pies. Then, we flew home.

2. Now, somehow out of all of this, I gained 10 lbs.  Not sure how that's possible, that would involve something like an extra 25000 calories eaten, added to the face that we were up on our feet moving around most of the time, when usually we are each of us sitting in an office chair.  I mean, I enjoyed myself, but not 25000 calories worth.

I'm assuming that because we ate out so much, I took in lots of sodium.  My clothes aren't tighter, by the way, so I don't know where it all is.  If it isn't gone by this weekend, well, I'll have to revise my ticker up at the top of the page and do the special K challenge, I guess.  Meanwhile, I'm taking in lots of green tea and water.

1. So, back in Albuquerque, where we only have two freeways.  I loved Seattle, and will probably go back, really, since I still don't have a Washington marathon.
I was scheduled to do the Duke City in about 2 days, but, um, probably not.  Tomorrow morning I"m hoping to go out and see how the ankle holds up to walking around the block.  I'll work my way up from there.

Next up: THe Rock and Roll San Antonio marathon, November 12th.

...

Run far, or run big.

You see this sort of thing at packet pickups.

Dear Diary,

13.  I was very encouraged by the run I had in Denver last weekend.  I thought for sure that I was going to crash and burn, since I hadn't been doing very long runs for a while. I forgot to mention this in my race report, but that was the fastest I've ever done a 50K.  I PRd the distance by a bit over 30 minutes.

12. It's official-himself is in for the Boston Marathon! So vacation 2012 will be in Boston, in april. Woot!Of course, I will not be in the marathon. But, I get a vaca, and I don't even have to run 26 miles to do it.  And all because I sleep with a Boston qualifier.

11. I lost my wallet in Denver.  Damnit.  Now I have to take a day off to go get another driver's license and other credentials.  You know why this happened, don't you?  Because God is punishing me for being too lazy to wait at the DMV to renew my license plate.  Which I also haven't done.  Shit.

10.  SO between crewing for himself, and running 31 miles in the heat at Denver, and losing my wallet, I'm behind on a lot of stuff.  It's amazing the stuff you can't do without a driver's license.  Like, for instance, I have to go see kids that are in jail at times.  My work ID only has my first name on it, sothey ask to see my ID.  I tried telling the guard coyly, It's just Misty.  Well, he bought it.  Mostly because he's seen me there before.  But next time I won't be so lucky.

9.  Another thing I did right Sunday: I wore 100 SPF sunscreen for 7 hours straight.  Not a hint of sunburn or splotchiness.

8. Tonight Himself the Baboo and I ran just under 6 miles around the neighborhood.  So the story is this: when Sweet Baboo needs to keep himself from running too fast, he runs with me.  (When he reads this, he's going to protest and deny that's not what he meant, but it's okay.  I'm glad to have a purpose.)

7.  At the kiddie jail:

• Me: So tell me where you think you should be.
• Kid: At home.  I should be at home.  I was doing very well well there. 
• Me:You're here for multiple probation violations, including cutting off your GPS device, burglary, and you recently overdosed and tested positive for opiates...all within the past four weeks.  Tell me how that's 'doing very well'?
• Kid: You're going to think whatever you want to think.
• Me: Is any of that information wrong?
• Kid: No.
• Me: So I 'm still not hearing how you're "doing well".  
• Kid: You know what, you're all about the money.  That's all you care about--money.  That's the only reason you're here trying to put me in rehab.  

OH, YES. I'm all about THE MONEY.  That's why I work with children, which pays less in any field than working with adults.  I'm a greedy bitch, I am
But you know, I get a toaster for every kid I put in rehab.
Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

6.  I'm feeling kind of doughy lately. Maybe it's a good thing that my dry cleaner lost my size 6 skirt.  I don't know if it would fit right now.  Still, I am pissed about that skirt.  From now on, I check every ticket before I walk out when I drop stuff off.

Found this looking for toaster images.
How cool is this?  I might put
someone in rehab for this.

5.  But the doughiness.  May, or may not, have something to do with a dangerous new habit I have of making popcorn in butter.  That's right.  IN butter.  instead of oil.  Eep.

4. So, just as soon as I pitched the hissy fit about my lost wallet, (#11) and dug out my passport to go buy ANOTHER driver's license, what do you think happened?  I bent down at work to pick up a small bag from WalGreens taht was poking out from under my desk, and guess what was in it.  That's right.

Which means two things: Not only did I not LOSE my wallet in Denver, I didn't even TAKE my wallet there.  I could have sworn than I did...ah, well.  All's well that ends well.

3. I did get off my butt and run Wednesday and Thursday.  I'm sort of on track for this week, for a 50-mile week.  Sunday is one of my marathon cooking days, so I have to run a lot Saturday and Sunday morning.

2.  One week to MIL, and TWO weeks to Seattle!!!  WOOOT!

1.  It's very whooshy out today: 22 mph winds.  I hate running in this.  And something tells me it's not a wrap-skirt day.

...

The Dental Work Begins.

Dear Diary,

Last week I went to see Denist #2, and endodontist, last week.  Dentist #2 took the time to numb me up with a heeyooge needle before saying that he could not save the three teeth that had planned root canals.  After dentist #2 said this, he said that I needed to have them pulled and get dental implants.  I went back to dentist #1, who then referred me to dentist #3: an oral surgeon

• Pros: no root canals, which are expensive. Painful.
• Cons: implants. Otherwise known as IMPLANT$.

Dentist #3 could not see me until September 20th for a consult...and I started hurting after my recent weekend in Leadville.  So, I called dentist #1 and said, I need to see someone sooner, because my teeth are hurting now. So his office set me up with dentist #4 for Wednesday morning.

My plan was to get the consult, set up a time for the extraction, and then go to work.  I decided I would have the teeth pulled on a Thursday, because I won't be allowed to run for 48 hours after a triple tooth extraction.  I don't run on fridays.  Right?  Right.  So,  I would take a day off work and stock up on protein shakes, since you can't suck anything through a straw and I won't want to chew for at least a day.

You know, I feel much better when my world is carefully planned. I don't like surprises.  I avoid them whenever possible. I like my world carefully and tightly controlled so that it happens just the way I expect it to.  Work can be crazy and unpredictable, and that's okay.  But outside of work: predictability.  I like things to be within my control.

Having told you this, you know that they won't be.

So obviously, I got a call at work.

• Hello, is this Misty?
• Speaking.
• I'm just calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow.
• Right.
• Be sure to bring your x-rays.
• Got it.
• And a referral letter that you have from your dentist.
• I think he faxed it to you.
• Good. And remember--no eating or drinking after midnight tonight.
• Yep. Wait. What?
• And be sure to bring someone to escort you home.
• Escort me home? No. Wait. What? I run in the mornings. And I can't have even water?
  
• Nope.
• Why?
• Because of the anesthesia.
• The...the what? I thought this was a consult?
• Oh no. If he decides the tooth--
• teeth.
• --need to be pulled, then he'll do that right then.
• Really?
• Really.  See you tomorrow at 8!  She said this just a bit too brightly, before hanging up.

SOOO, The rest of the day was spent rescheduling face-to-face meetings since my mouth may be full of bloody wadding all day and yes,  am going to work because I did not plan this and don't have it off. So here's the new plan: I will be locked in my office all day with a warning sign on the door.

WAS AT THE DENTIST THIS MORNING.

KNOCK AT YOUR OWN PERIL.

Meanwhile.

I'm having some wine, cheese and crackers right now, since this might be the last thing I eat for about 24 hours.

Yay.

Stay tuned...

...

I tried to quit but nobody would let me. JMTR Race Report.

Dear Diary,

I never had any illusions that this would be an easy race.  After all, last year, I quit after climbing up this first climb, which goes from about 7000 feet above sea level to 9000 feet above sea level.

This is part of the devastating Los Alamos (google it) fires.

At mile 7.2, I saw this. 

Now, I was expecting the ladder, but not what followed.
On the way up Caballo mountain, elevation 10,400 or so, I had to step aside so that the faster runners could blast on past me on their way back down.  That was okay, because it gave me time to breathe.

Clockwise from top left: elevation, heading, total ascent, total descent
(By mile ELEVEN)

I struggled to the top of Caballo Peak, about third or fourth from last. I was pretty happy to reach the top, but told everyone I saw (which was most people, because I was 4th from last when I was climbing that bastard) that I was quitting.  I fell into DP, moaning, carry me.

Then I reached the top and was pretty damned happy there.  Some guy asked me to strike a pose, so I did.

You could so some fun subliminal stuff with the ski slopes

in the back ground.

I was really worried about the neuroma thing that pops up from time to time, and by the time I reached the top, my right food was burning and hurt like hell.  Luckily, when I started descending, it faded.  I sat down at the top, took some electrolytes, and advil, and then headed back down.

But then, on the way back down, my body started talking to me.

Hi, I'm your it band; remember me?
You've done it now.  We are in full revolt.

At the bottom, I told the guys at the aid station that I was done, time to pack it in. I was exhausted, and it was only mile 14, for gosh sake. Where's the Jeep?  I want a ride back to the start line.

They informed me that there was no transportation, and if I wanted to quit, I still had to climb 1000 feet up out of the canyon, no matter whether I went forward or back.

Well, shit.

I might as well go to the next aid station.

Then I'll quit.

I climbed up to the Pipeline aid station, which was the begininning of another out-and-back, which are just lovely for getting a full few of how many people are ahead of you...(this is the needle looking thing on the profile above).  I did it by hiking 25 steps, then stopping to breathe, and so on.  I passed a couple people.

 Pipeline outbound was around mile 18 or 19; if you look at the profile, it's at the top of that needle.  It felt like one, too.  I arrived at the Pipeline aid station, and told them I was ready to pack it in.

Oh.  Well, you have to go into ski lodge aid station if you want to quit.

SHIT!

So, then I headed to the Ski Lodge Aid station, which was an out-and-back from Pipeline. I passed some folks I knew on the way back out of ski lodge: Dread Pirate, Johnny Tri, Joe...but no Sweet Baboo. He was far ahead of me. I looked at my watch. Holy shit, it was mile 20, and I'd been on the course for over six hours.

Well, hell. I only had 13 miles to go. I might as well finish, now. *grumble*  

 I noticed some people that had been ahead of me were sitting down, very still, with stunned, sickened looks on their faces.  I left the Ski Lodge, headed back to the Pipeline aid station, thinking the worst of the climbs were behind me. But there were some disappointing ones yet to come. I did my 25-step-trudge-and-breathe intervals, and hated everyone. EVERYONE. 


Mile 25. Where the hell is that aid station?

More artifacts from the Los Alamos fires.

Miles 28, I came into the Giage (sp?) Ridge aid station, inbound.  All the way there I was so very, very alone.  I didn't mention it, but part of the reason I think I was able to finish was that I sat down at every single aid station and vented.  Okay, bitched.  I hate this race.  THis sucks.  I'm not having fun.  I wanted to quit and they wouldn't let me.  Etc.  Aid stations volunteers chuckled and handed me things.  I had a large bag of fritos and M&Ms - I had peanut M&Ms before, but they were too much trouble to eat, which is testiment to how fucking hard this race was, Hey, do you have any plain M&Ms?  The peanut ones are too hard to eat right now.

 Giage was no exception. I sat. I breathed. Just 7 more miles to go. I stretched, and then headed out across the burn zone.

Very, veery alone.

Occasionally a 50-miler would go sprinting by me.

Freaks.

I ran out of run, and began walking enrgetically, although there were some nice runnable sections, but miles 31 took a loong damned time. My stomach was starting to revolt. 

Then I came into the last aid station, and there was Sweet Baboo.  I was too tired to cry.  He suggested I sit down before the last climb out.

The last climb at mile 31 doesn't look like much, but it was pretty disappointing.

I sat down. I had chicken broth. My stomach felt kinda funky. I had some ginger ale. I sat on the stump for a while turning down offers for a real chair.  When I stood up, I stuck to the stump, mostly because my hot ass had softened some pine pitch,which was now stuck to my shorts.

There was one last climb up out, and it was nothing. I walked energetically, chatting with Baboo, to the finish.

Finisher's prize: a small pot from the Taos Pueblo.

Last Big View before descending.

Now, DP told me that she was told by a caring significant other, don't take this the wrong way, but never do this race.

 I won't tell you that.  What I will tell you is this: Do not take for granted that you have done a few 50ks that you are ready to do this race.  You should be prepared to be on your feet for at least 10 hours, unless you're some kind of freak, like Sweet Baboo, who finished it in 7 hours and some change.  I will take to heart, too, that maybe I'd have finished sooner if I hadn't done those four marathons a few weeks ago.

IF YOU GO: This is a cupless race. Take a hydration pack, not just a bottle.  The course is very well marked, and the aid station volunteers are unsurpassed.  Since most of them had to pack it in, most of them are in damned good shape themselves, probably some sort of endurance athlete, so they know what you need.  Make sure you get Popsicles at the Pipeline Aid station.

And, make sure that you have a few 50-milers under your belt, including altitude training.  This was a damned hard race, and after I was finished, Sweet Baboo told me it's the hardest 50k in North America.


Oh, sure.

NOW he tells me.

On the way home, I had five pieces of Popeyes chicken, AND extra gravy, AND mashed potatoes.  So THERE. 

...

Location: Home. Posted from my PC, because my iPad doesn't support HTML.  >:-(

On salsa, and gloating, er, BLOATING, and other things.

Transport shuttle at the Kalamazoo
Marathon.

Dear diary,

Himself.

14.  The app I bought for my iPad to post my blog does not edit HTML.  So that's why I'm late.  I'm stll working on it .

13. Today is my favorite day of all, my very, very favorite.  Today is the day that I eat a shitload of food and tell everyone that I'm not binging, I'm "carb-loading".

12. My body held its usual post-race bloat a little longer than usual last week. I was starting to worry. By Friday I was still about 7 lbs up, and I had to keep reminding myself that, well, I certainly had not eaten an extra 10,000 calories over and above what I had run last weekend so there was no reason for me to have actually put on that much weight, but you know, pants don't fit, worry sets in, and I started catastrophising.

• I am gaining weight.
• My clothes will not fit anymore, and thanks to dp, I have no more more fat clothes.
• I will have to do all my shopping at garage sales.
• I will look like an old bag lady.

Finish chute at Kalamazoo.

But then Saturday, I did my imitation of a racehorse (not being fast. The other thing) and my weight dumped about six pounds. I am not sure when I will reach a point where I am not weighing myself twice a day.
 

11. Sweet Baboo suddenly and inexplicably asked me if I was interested in salsa dancing lessons. With him.



FOUR.

I kinda thought it was a joke at first; men are notorious for avoiding the 'dance' word...so I said yeah right. Turns out, he was not kidding. We started looking online at YouTube videos and even the beginning ones look incredibly complicated. Ulp. But there is no turning back now.

It turns out that classes are reasonably priced, fit into our schedule, so well...here we go.

I told him, you know that this is another reason women will hate me, don't you? But,well, there you go.


10. I did my first session as a volunteer for Women In Training Saturday. I led a group of about five women, including Daughter, on a one-minute-on, one-minute-off jogging and walking workout, with a warmup and cool down, with some stretching before and after. I really enjoyed myself and regret having so many Saturday races coming up.

9. How does a person eat half a bottle of low-fat ranch in a sitting? Can anyone tell me that?



Finish Line.



Himeself, finishing his
fourth marathon in 3:45

 8. Sweet Baboo took a physical fitness test for the guard. He did 62 pushups, ran 2 miles in 13 or so minutes, and met the weight requirement. He smoked all the young bucks. :-D  Hubba hubba!

7.  Just for future reference, if your teenage son is caught at the seen of a crime weilding a gun after having taken something that doens't belong to him, you don't get to say he doesn't have behavior problems.
This isn't about any one particular case; this is about half a dozen cases I've seen over the past few years. 



I no longer turn off my
Garmin until after crossing.

6. Tuesday, Daughter declined to do the first workout of the week because her knee hurt.  I'm not pushing this.  It has to be her decision. 

Ranch dressing fountain.  I'm not saying
I don't love the stuff, but c'mon.  There's
other condiments out there. 

5.  Update to number 9, above: the entire bottle of ranch was gone by Monday (it was purchased on Saturday).  This lead me to google ranch dressing, and I came up with this: fat girl ketchup.  Go ahead, Google fat girl ketchup

4.  Sweet Baboo and I are signed up for an 8-mile run at the Acoma Pueblo.  It's a rugged trail run, like most of the ones they have there, that takes you on lands that outsiders are almost never allowed to be on.  The Acaoma Pueblo is either nearly the oldest or the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in North America which, if you read up on it, is true of several pueblos in New Mexico.


Some examples of Acoma pottery.

 Prizes, which I will not get but will admire greatly, are ceramics created by Acoma craftsmen and women who revere running.

3.  Yesterday Sweet Baboo and I were talking about the Jemez trial 50k that we're doing tomorrow, and he said something offhandedly something about not getting home until 9 at night.

9 at NIGHT?  What on earth are you talking about?  I figure it will take me seven hours, eight tops to do a 50K

"Misty, you know how long it took me to do this last year? Ten hours."

>cricket<   >cricket<

oh. 

shit.

I forgot about the profile.  That's probably good because it saved me from a full-blown panic attack, but still, here it is:

See that first bump?  The one that stops just short
of 9000 feet? Yeh.  That's where I quit last year. 

2.  I got a landline from the cable company.  It was cheaper than paying daughter's cell phone bill, and this way she can get messages from prospective employers (please, please, please let her get those messages) anyway. So, but, I know from exerience that a cordless phone will disappear and we'll spend most of time looking for it, and most of the time it will be in the guest room where daughter is staying.  So instead, I plugged in this:

I know, right?  And yes, it works.  However. You cannot press "1" if you wish to continue in English.  You can't even dial it.  You just have to stay on the line while the voice command repeats several times. 

You see, my philosophy regarding having children living at home after they are old enough to hold down jobs and pay their own rent is a simple one: make the house as inconvenient and annoying as possible to expedite their leaving and their motivation to do so.  This includes restricting internet use, having annoying, old-fashioned appliances, and maybe making loud sex sounds that freak them out. 

So far, none of this has worked.  I'm open to ideas. 

1.  - Posted from my iPad -  This is awkward, I know. After years of mocking ipad and iphone owners, I is one.  Just so you know, none of my opinions are written in stone.  I can be won over by a reasonable, valid argument based on evidence.  Or very good electronic gadgetry.

...