Life, after donuts.

I'm sitting here looking at the hills behind the Dream house.  The sun has just set.  The hills look much closer than they are. It's always startling for me to see a moving speck across one of them, just a pixel of color, and realize that it's a person.  The hills are much bigger than they seem from my living room.  It's all about perspective.

Last week my therapist brought up the idea of radical acceptance.  My therapist uses CBT, and of course, that's why I've been seeing her.  First, for the panic attacks.  Then the general anxiety.  Now it's to let go of ideas that I've hung onto tenaciously for decades, ideas that aren't working for me.  Ideas that cause me distress. 

So here we are: we've reached the point where I've been working on reframing my belief that, "the world is a dangerous place" to "the world is an uncertain place" and from "I must prepare for everything and fix every wrong," to "I can handle things as they come up, and everything doesn't have to be fixed by me."

So anyway.  Radcal acceptance is stepping back from something that is a problem, and separating your emotions from it while still recognizing it for what it is. 

I had a problem getting my mind around that at first.  To me, problems are meant to be fixed, solved.  As a former single welfare mother, I'm well programmed to always be in FIX-IT mode.  So, yeah.  I get involved at an emotional level.  She explained it some more, and a bell went off my head.

I remembered when I taught high school.  One day after about six years it was like a switch was thrown, and I no longer took it personally, the mouthiness, the opposition, the defiance - it was all just a function of them being teenagers.  Hey! I'd say, There's that black and white thinking!  {chuckle}

"Quit saying that!  I'm very unique!" they would protest. 

Of course you are, sweetie, I'd say with a grin, completely unique.  Like nobody else, and nothing that applies to anyone else applies to you. 

"Damn straight," they'd mutter. 

And that's called 'The personal fable.'

Yes, my therapist said, that is radical acceptance.  It is the idea of accepting something, or what will be, as it is.  Without becoming emotional about it.

At first I thought this was about my distress was about the back yard and what asshole dog was doing to it.  Let it go, I thought.  I was struggling.  I need my back yard.  In order for me to read case histories of children who have been horrifically abused, or who are seriously mentally ill, I need a respite at the end of the day.  That respite is the haven behind the house that Baboo has created for us.  When I go back there and see yet another areas destroyed, or dug up, or torn up, it's a little less haven-like.

But later on, I realized, my biggest fear is what others think of me.  I own that.  My distress has been about someone thinking I'm a terrible person if I get rid of Jake.

So, once I could see that, I decided he has got to go.  Once I decided it, I felt instant relief.  Some people might think ill of me.  I can't control that.  It is what it is. 

~~~~

Today's weight: 159.8 - I always bloat up on Sundays.  I think it's my high-sodium day or something.

I cleaned out my closet this past weekend.  I formed 4 piles:

1) Clothes I love, but they need altering (too big!)
2) Clothes that nobody, including me, should ever, ever wear (but I'm donating them anyway) and here's a tip: once it goes in the pile do not, DO NOT, look in that pile again, or allow anyone else to. 
3) Clothes that need minor alterations, like a button moved in, or a hem.
4) Clothes that are fine, and need dry-cleaning.

I was surprised at how much I had to wear, actually.  Once I'd cleared out all the junk, I found that I had things I could put together in ways I'd never thought of back when I first wore them. 

And here's the reallllllly scary part: I'm throwing out all my fat clothes.  Nothing more to fall back on, ever.  Ulp.  My magic scale number is 160.  Once I hit that, my size decrease slows down, and I'm either a 10 or a 12, no matter how much more weight I lose.  It's like a critical mass thing.  Maybe all the spaces inside me fill up, or something, I don't know. 

Baboo, meanwhile, stood in front of me this morning in clothes that were approximately eight sizes too big.

"How do these look?"

"Well, they don't do you justice."  For some reason, Baboo only buys clothes when he's at his heaviest.  So they're usually loose, but this is New Mexico, so they look appropriate, until he dips under his magic number, which is 210.  Then, he's swimming in them. 

Everybody has to figure out what works for them.  I've accepted tried lots of ways to maintain my weight, and only Weight watchers does it for me.  That, and running up and down the hills behind the Dream house, instead of looking at them. 

I haven't completely given up donuts, by the way.

But I have noticed something.  A few months ago, two coworkers and I were standing in the break room, making air-popped popcorn.  The instructions (yes, instructions, put on the wall by a seriously passive-aggressive person) said to put 1/4 cup of popcorn in the popper, and then melt half a stick of butter in the microwave, pour on, and enjoy.

First off, I don't use butter.  I keep butter sprinkles in my desk drawer. But I figured I'd treat  myself and have a table spoon or two strategically poured on. 

So, the coworkers.  Both very seriously super nice people.  One of them is heavy.  I'll call this coworker David.  David is so heavy that I actually worry for his health.  The other coworker I'll call Michelle, and Michelle is very trim and a runner. So anway, David pulled a stick of butter and cut half off. 

"Um, really, David?  A half stick?" Michelle protested.  "That seems like a lot." 

"That's what the directions say," David insisted, pointing. 

Okay.  So we waited, and then David poured a half stick of butter on his popcorn, just like the directions said. Michelle took her popcorn with no butter, and I took my popcorn, with a tablespoon or two on it.  Later that day, there were donuts.  Michelle and I split half a donut.  I just wanted a taste.  It was delish.  I didn't need the whole thing to know that.

Accepting what is means that I have to make a decision and stop agonizing over it.  Make it and move on.   I can binge, if I want, but I have to do the long runs on the weekends to build up my "binge" points.  I'm willing to give up a half stick of butter, or a few glazed donuts, to feel like I have some control over where my body is in space. 

When I was heavy, I was constantly crashing into things.  I just never could get used to taking up so much space.  That's gone now.  Some things have become old habits for me now, like dipping my fork into salad dressing before sticking it into the lettuce and taking a bite.  Or mentally calculating how far I need to run to have that particular desert. 

So I'm not crashing into people just at the moment.  I have fewer clothes to choose from, but the ones I have all fit.  I'm still the same person, but taking up less space.  I'm fine with that for now. 

...

Sometimes things end badly, but at least they end. A race report.

Dear diary,

I did the Valles Caldera half marathon yesterday. It was a nightmare. The first mile, I got a lungful of smoke from a brush fire, and from the rest of the time, my chest ached and I coughed. Then, mile 2, the cramps started--side stiches on the left and right. They stayed with me until mile 12. Nothing I did made them go away, and when I ran, they were excruciating.

They stopped when I climbed, though.  Which was, needless to say, useless.  The climb up to the top at about mile 6 was exhausting.  Then, I couldn't take advantage of any downhill runs, because of the cramps.  The climbs up were horribly slow, peaking at 8800 feet altitude. 

After that, I was pretty happy to be going flat, and was doing a kind of half jog and half power walk. 

The volunteers were awesome.  Friendly, helpful, sympathetic,  Except for one.  That one would be the volunteer who watched as I went the wrong way. WATCHED. In fact, we had a conversation first. 

First, I got to a section of trail that had 2 flags on the right and 2 on the left. I looked further to the left, and saw no more markings. I looked ahead: no more markings. I looked to the left, and saw a chalk arrow pointing me off the road, so I followed it, and the marking flags. I'd climbed about 250 feet when I came to a volunteer on her way toward me, and she informed me that I was going the wrong way - I'd already been this way once. Dammit. She said, "go back to the road."

So I did. I went back to the road and started running down the road. But I didn't see any more markings. So I turned around, and walked back down to where the volunteer was, and this time, she was with a man who was a bit, eh, portly. I said to Portly, "there's no markings down that way, no people, nothing."

"No markings," he asked, surprised. "There should be.  So-and-so should be down there."  he said a name, like Bob or Bruce, or something like that. 

"Nope, nothing," I said, and I turned and headed back down the road.   He watched me go, and said nothing. 

About a half mile later, and I was hurting.  By this time it had been several miles since I had run out of water, and I was tired. As you can see by the profile above, there was a bit of climbing, and my hips hurt, too. Then another volunteer pulled up next to me on some sort of gas-powered golf cart, and asked if I was okay.

"I just have this awful feeling that I"m not on the right course," I said, accepting some water.

"Oh, no, you're not on the right course at all," she said calmly, putting water into the back of her cart.

I waited. And then, "Well, where is the course?"

She motioned to a line of trees about 50 yards to my right. "Over there. Just cross that meadow."

So I did. Dammit. I added about a mile of distance to my run, and after the part that was an unnecessary climb, I was exhausted. The cramps wouldn't stop. my hips hurt. There was just no running to be done. I crossed the finish line over 4 hours after I started. Baboo, who had started the full marathon 10 minutes earlier, was 15 minutes behind me.

~~~~~

So here's the other thing.  I find that I have to start over again, for two reasons.  First was the 2 months I spent being depressed and trying to get through 14-hours in graduate school and work, and not running.

The second is that the runs I did were so short, and intense, that I started getting faster...but now that I'm faster, I can't run as far as I used to.  It didn't make much sense to me at first, but if you think about it, when you run faster, you're pounding your feet, knees, and ankles harder.  You spine is under more stress.  So I'll be having to start over again. 

And by golly, when I do this again next year, you're going to see a completely different race report.

Cheers!

Thursday 13.

13.  There were no donuts. 

12.  Sorry to disappoint anyone; I decided not do the meltman.  Late in the afternoon as I started sweating in my office and decided that driving several hundred miles, doing a sprint in 100 degree weather (and this triathlon is nearly insufferably warm even when the weather is in the 80s) sounded like no fun.  So I bagged it.  This is my year of fun, weight loss, and short distances, I've decided.  Except, of course, for Redman. 

11.  Instead, Saturday I went for a hike. I hiked up into the mountains behind my house--not far, just a couple miles, at dawn.  It was glorious.  I went up to about 7500 feet, I think. 

10.  Sunday, I did my long run: a trip to El Pinto with Johnny Tri, his girlfriend, and Baboo--and I had the El Pinto eggs Benedict.  These are poached eggs with green chile hollendaise sauce on chile cheese biscuits.  They are - wait for it -- TWENTY TWO WEIGHT WATCHER POINTS.  Did I know that before I ate them?  I did NOT.  I found Tuesday morning when I entered it into WW.  I had no idea that Hollendaise was solid animal fat.  Baboo was all, you didn't know that?  No, why would I?  I don't have occasion to make Hollendaise sauce.  Now even less so. 

9.  I made up part of those points by riding the Tram with Courtney and Baboo up to the top of the mountain (10,000 feet elevation) and doing about 5 miles of hiking. 

8.  Monday, I did nothing. 

7.  Tuesday, I did a brief run that involves climbing for about a mile and a half.  My goal is to run the entire thing without stopping for a second to puke. 

6.  Tuesday night, I went with Baboo to do a hike up La Luz trail.  DP has invited me every year, but I would fink out.  I'd be all like: west side of the mountain in the late afternoon with temp in the 90s, then run up the side of a mountain?  Yeah.  Sure.  But you know what?  It wasn't so bad.  So you all meet in the parking lot, and run/hike/whatever up the mountain for an hour, and then turn around and come back down. 

I made it about 2 miles up, to elevation 7800 feet up, with a belt with 2 10-ounce bottles.  This was not a 2 small bottle workout.  This was, at least, a 4-small-bottle workout.  Next time, I'll know.  I was getting a bit nauseated.  Running down was fun, though. 

5.  Oh, and I did the La Luz workout in my Vibram Five Fingers.  I'm working my way up to longer hike.  I was a little worried when I woke up and my foot hurt, I mean HURT. But then it went away. 

4.  Another conversation from work  (Again, no HIPPA violation, this is a compilation of several conversations)

So, tell me about the drinking. 

What about it? 

I understand from your mom that you've been doing a lot of drinking.

Well, you know, yeah.  I like to drink.  But it's not like I have a problem.  I mean, it's not like I HAVE to have it.  In fact, it's been almost a whole week since I've had a drink, and I'm not craving it at all. 

Tell me about shoplifting vodka from WallGreens.

Oh, that was just for fun.  You know, to see if I can get away with it.  I didn't have any money.

And breaking into your great-Aunt's house and stealing wine...was that fun too?

Well, I mean, she has lots of wine in the house.

Was your mother correct when she said that you took alcohol to school in your water bottle?

Yeah - I did it on a dare.  I gave a sip to a friend, and she ratted me out, that bitch.  They called the cops on me. 

Would it surprise you to know that most people consider lack of money, a locked door, and the threat of being expelled enough of a barrier to not drink?  

I don't get what you mean.

What I'm saying is, most people would consider those enough to stop them from using alcohol.

Well, it wasn't like I had to try hard to get it.

insight: [  ]good  [  ]fair   [X]poor

3.  Today, I hit a new low: 156.4. lbs  Of course : Wednesday.  What will happen next is that by weigh day, I'll be back up to 160 or 161, and I'll get a concillatory pity note from  WeightWatchers: Don't be discouraged because you didn't see any losses this week...  Bah.  Whatever. I put on a dress this week that I haven't been able to wear for 4 years. So there.

2. There is a big black spot on my laptop screen.  It looks like some kind of damage, but I can't imagine why. 

1.  Tomorrow, after this posts, I'll run.  Going to see if I can do a pre-work, 4 mile run. 

...

Oops, part deux. A friday fourteen.

Dear Diary,

Well, it was the holidays.  I'm off a day. 

14.  Last night while friends and Baboo were running trails in the hills behind our house, I was getting wine instead. I will tell why.  I had an incident on the highway--not an accident, an incident.  I was headed down the highway at my usual 80 mph HEYTHEREWASALMOSTNOTRAFFICGETOFFME and a red car cruised by me, putting on some distance as it shifted across all three lanes repeatedly.  The problem with shifting lanes repeatedly is that studies have shown it doesn't work--each time s/he got into a lane another care would be there, driving much slower than s/he wanted to drive, and for all his speed (at least 90 mph) s/he was actually dropping back towards me. 

So s/he was crossing again in front of me - pretty close, in fact--when s/he saw the police car.  So, s/he did what any crazy-assed speeding race car would do crossing less than 2 carlengths in front of a tiny blue Honda Fit - s/he slammed on his/her brakes.  THAT'S RIGHT.  S/HE SLAMMED ON HIS/HER BRAKES WHILE DRIVING IN FRONT OF ME AT 80 MPH ON A FREEWAY.

So I slammed on moi brakes, then realized I was going to hit him/her anyway. I turned to the left, to swerve around, and my car went up onto two wheels I'MNOTMAKINGTHISUPITHOUGHTIWASGONNADIE and I grabbed the steering wheel and turned and then the car swerved in the other direction, again on two wheels, and I had a brief second to think, this is it, I'm going to roll my car, just like in some cheap-assed movie, and dammit, Baboo is going to have to get me another Honda Fit.  I just hope the airbags work.

While all this was happening, of course, I was uttering something like, shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!!

But then, the car straightened out again, and once I'd swallowed the bile in my mouth, I said out loud, I want some wine now.
So that's what I did.
And that's why I was in the wine section last night while everyone else was running trails. 

13.  Yesterday morning, for the first time in months, I got up, and did some Yoga, at http://www.yogatic.com/.  It was Awesome.   I adore Esther.  I have a particular love for Yoga, but it is unfortunatley full of breathy hippie women, who I can't stand.  Esther is not that woman.  She has a very firm voice, with a slight gutteral accent, and if she ever puts out her own DVD, I'm buying it.  In the meantime, I've downloaded a bunch of her little videos and some of them are on my ipod.

12.  I started training this week.  I got up at 5:30 and by 6:00, I was out running.  It was awesome.  I love dawn runs in NM.  They are dry and chilly and you come back all sweaty but feeling great. 

11.  At work, they bought a a brief intelligence for me to use to assess the kids.  I'm still learning to use it, and so far, nearly a half dozen coworkers have quietly volunteered to let me practice on them.  They sort of lean in when they tell me this, and express their concern that I would make their results public.  They don't seem to have caught on to my sense of humor yet, and I enjoyed exploiting their fear.  Hell, there's a company bulletin board downstairs, I said. We should have a contest - give a dunce cap to the lowest score.  Nobody thought that was funny but me. 

10.  I got a lead on another job that, while not quite as enjoyable, is a decent job, a fed job, and half again what I'm making now.  Imagine taking half of what you're making and adding it to your salary.  Would you apply for this job?  Hell yes you would.  I may not get it.  But there it is.  More on this as it (or not) develops.

9.  This weekend, I am doing another sprint triathlon.  This is another one that I have done several years in a row.  This weekend, however, it is supposed to get up to 104 degrees.  This is the Milkman sprint.  A friend laughingly referred to it as the Meltman sprint.  HA HA.  Ha. ha.  ha.

8.   My training still isn't what is should be, but it's getting there.

7.  I have random phone numbers written on pages in my Dilbert calendar at work, and I don't know whose numbers they are.

6.  My Thursday night trail runs have been ruined by a class that is on the one night I didn't want it to be on.  Dammit.  But, so, anyway I've switched those to Tuesdays.  I'll be participating in the La Luz training.  I'm going to try to do the La Luz trail run next year.  It's a 9-mile trail run.  No, that's not a typo - nine miles.

There's got to be a catch, right? 

So here it is:

I'm trying to think of how long it will take me to get 9 miles at a 30 minute pace, with breaks built in for sucking oxygen out of a tank and puking.  So why am I doing this?  Well, by golly, it's practically famous and practically in my back yard, and all my friends do it and I'm a sucker for peer pressure, becuase I want to be all cool like they are.  So this year I'll do the training, to see what it's like, and next year, I'll sign up for the lottery and see if I get picked. 

5.  I'm battling Chinese spammers on my blog, and may have to switch to comment moderation soon.  So far, I'm moderating anything more than 2 days after I post. 

4.  Yesterday I was listening to one of my mixes in my office, and a 20-something popped in to tell me that, ohmygod,ijustwantedtotellyouthatiLOVEyourmusic.  There was a little head flip and pony-tail swing when she said that, and then herself bounced back down the hall to her office  I'm not sure what to think.  It's kind of like having a 3-year-old tell you that they love the way you dress, or your psychotic uncle Fred telling you that you make a lot of sense.  

3.  I'm finding myself annoyed by the swarms of locusts  mountainbikers on the trials in the afternoons, which is why I'm running in the morning.  It's not that I don't appreciate everyone out there having fun.  It's that they expect me to step off the trial and wait so that they can go by.  It's not unusual for me to encounter up to a dozen of these folks in a 4 mile run, so that's a lot of stepping off the trail and waiting.  I don't think I'm going to do it any more. I figure mountain biking is all about obstacles, and the rules of the trails around here say they're supposed to yield to everyone anyway. 

2.  So, I have weird conversations like this at work:

Me: So you said that his behavior started getting worse about a year ago, and he's refusing to go to school.  Did anything unusual happen around the time that his behavior got worse?

Clueless Parent: No....nothing I can think of.

Me: Nobody moving in, or out, or divorce, job losses, sudden changes, anything like that?

CP: No, nothing like that.

30 minutes later in the interview....

Me: Has anyone in your family passed away recently?

CP: Yes, my mother died.

Me: I'm so sorry to hear that.  When did she die?

CP: (Dabs at her eyes with a tissue) About 15 months ago.

Me: How did she die?

CP: (Hesitates) She hung herself.  She always had problems with depression.

Me: Oh, that's so sad, I'm so sorry.  Who found her?

CP: My son.

Me: (after a pause) Your son?  The one who is here now?

CP: Yes.

Me: You're saying he found your mother dead of a suicide about 3 months before his behavior started getting bad?

CP: I think so...let me see...yes, it was right before that.  He came home from school - we were staying with my mother, because our house had burned down.

Me: Your house burned down?

CP: Well, yeah, but I mean, my son wasn't in it or anything.  It happened while he was at school and I was at work.

Me: So, basically, your son got off the school bus and found his house burned to the ground?  And a few weeks later he found his grandmother dead of a suicide?

CP: Yes.

Me: So, I'm thinking that maybe these things are related...you know, to why he's refusing to go to school now. 

CP: Oh, I don't know.  I guess.  Maybe. 

(By the way, I'm not violating any HIPPA here...this is a composite of over a dozen similar conversations I've had over the past 6 months - people are completely clueless sometimes as to the things that affect their children.)

1. Today is a good day here.  The fire alarm has only been pulled by angry kids 3 times.  And I heard a rumor of donuts.  I shall investigate, and report back. 

...

I ran today.

Today is a holiday, and today I ran.

I figured I should, being as I have a marathon in less than 2 weeks.  Not only do I have a marathon in less than two weeks, but I'm not prepared for it.  My longest run would be, well, let's see.  It would be the marathon I DNF'd at last weekend - I ran about 15 miles that day.

I've been kind of piddling about and not doing any long runs this spring.  But I feel like, maybe I need to get on the ball and start training.  I've been recovering from slowly, too.  My legs have felt tired and heavy ever since.

Boy, am I under-trained.  I was so tired after running.  Then I looked down at the Forerunner - oops, that's about the fastest I've done that run.

BLAH.  What's the point of running fast if it's so exhausting?

So anyway.  I ran today.  I have this new part of my run that I like to do that consists of about a 2 mile climb that rises 500 to 600 feet in elevation.  I piddled around until after sunup (mistake #1) and wore a long-sleeve shirt (mistake #2) that was black (mistake #3).  I got in about 5 and a quarter miles.  It was a nice morning.  I came home, discouraged, until I realized that I'd done this one faster than usual.  I'm posting the map and profile for herself the Elf so she'll know what she's in for on Thursday.

Or maybe not.  I think my internship class starts on Thursday.  Crap.  I need to change my Thursday night run to Thursday morning, I guess.

So anyway.  I ran today.  I was supposed to do a long run, but I didn't feel like doing a long run, so I didn't do a long run.  I won't be able to get away with that much longer.  This next weekend  I have to start doing long run training, and then long bike training starts soon after that.  I'm going to be focusing on Redman in September.

I may still play around with the Javalina 100k in October.  We'll see.

So anyway.  I ran today.  It was a nice run.  It was a hard run.  I'm ready to train now.

...

Loss and love and DNFs: Thursday 13.

Dear Diary,

13.  Since February, according to WeightWatchers, I've lost nearly 15 pounds.  I've been doing some training, so I feel pretty good that I've been replacing none-working flab with working muscle.  This adds up to :
waist -1.8 inches
arm -0.7 inch
hips -2.0 inches
bust -1.2 inches
thigh -2.0 inches
and one pants size.

So far, I feel better.  160 pounds is a good weight for me.  If I lose more, fine.  I'd liked to get down to what I was ten years ago when I married Sweet Baboo: 145 pounds.  That's 15 pounds away.  I think that's reasonable for my 5'6" frame.  It's a good weight for hauling up and down mountains without getting too cold.

12.  Well, of course I'm going to try to do the 50K again.  Have I ever let you down?  It's my A race for next year.  i hate DNFs. They're like a sentence without a period on the end.

11.  JUST SO YOU KNOW: This monday, memorial day, is an all-day Hoarders marathon.  Check your local listings.  WOOT!  There is not a single other show that I can watch that makes me feel good about my housekeeping these days.  I can sit there, snort, and say, Well at least I'm not THAT guy.

10.  I do self-experiments, so here's my experiement for the next month:  I've gotten into the habit of having a glass or two of wine most nights.  It occured to me that this might be why I'm having problems getting rid of this gut fat.  My experiment is that I'll only have wine 1-2 days a week.  I'll let you know how it goes.

9.  I found this thing on Amazon: It's a presto PowerPot microwave popper.  No oil.  I love this thing.  You have to put little inserts in it that are refillable, but they last me through several batches.

8.  I hate Ca$h just a little less this week.  What I've done is indulged in a Buddhist letting go of his half of the yard.  It isn't there.  It doesn't exist.  Thus, I cannot be upset when what isn't there is chewed on and dug up and crapped all over. 

7.  But while we're on the subject, I got an idea off the internet.  I put a little of Jake's ahem poop in 3 holes he keeps digging, and then replaced the dirt.  He hasn't touched those holes since. 

6.  With respect to the lost inches, above, I'll be hitting the consignment stores soon. My clothes don't fit. This is complicated by the fact that I don't have much of a summer wardrobe to begin with, being as I didn't work for 10 summers in a row.  It's not for lack of clothes: you'll recall the policeman who said, while investigating our break-in in February, "gosh, they totally trashed this side of the closet."
This monday, I'm going to "shop my closet" and create three piles:
1.  I'll never wear this again, and it needs to go to someone who will
2.  I'll wear this again, but it needs to be altered
3.  I can wear this now.
The plan is that I'll have clothes that I can wear.

5.  I've decided I have to find another job.  Not because they treat me badly here, because they treat me wonderfully.  Not because I hate my job, because I love it.  It's the best job I've ever had.
No, what it boils down to is the lowest pay I've had since getting out of college.  I was making way more as a high school teacher, AND I had 3 months of vaca a year.
Like I told DP earlier this week, if I can't get my hair done, all bets are off.  Of course, when I say "all best are off" that means I may go back to teaching for a while until I can find a decent-paying job in mental health.  It's not like I'm leaving human service work permanently.

4.  I just found out that a local triathlon, due to construction, is going to be an aquathon this year.  7K run, 400 meter swim, 5k run.  BLISSSSSSS!  

3. Meanwhile, I was asked if I'm going to do the Santa Fe triathlon this year.  I am not.  The Santa Fe triathlon does not recognize the Athena or Clydesdale category, so I don't recognize them.

2.  This weekend herself the Elf is celebrating her 29th birthday, so I've agreed to do 3 Boulevard loops (75 miles total) with her.  So, I'll be doing three 1000-foot climbs and three 1000-foot descents.  I'll post the profile when I'm done.  My next race is a sprint, in a week or so.

1.  My therapist has prescribed "worry runs" for me.  The idea being, I put off I worrying except for once a day when I schedule a time to run and worry, for about one or two miles.  I tried one yesterday.  It turns out that I don't think of much when I run.  I'm pretty n the moment.  There's not time to worry.  In all like, should I run up there?  How about over there?  I think I'll run downhill for a while.  Oh, there's some people.  I have to speed up and look fast until I pass them.  
So maybe the point to the exercise is just to practice puting aside worrying.  Which, in itself, is useful, especially if it's unproductive worrying.  Hmm.

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Blue lips and fingernails are no fun. A DNF report.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at midnight.  I've had some problems sleeping lately, where I've been waking up 3 hours early and not been able to get back to sleep.  Waking up too early is called terminal isomnia which is funny because it sounds like insomnia that can kill you.

So anyway.  I was supposed to get up at 3 am, so I woke up at midnight.  I took a benedryl.  I took another one.  I took a hot bath. I lay down and stared at the ceiling for hours.  Finally, at 2:45 I gave up and started getting ready for the Jemez Mountain Trail Run 50K.

Baboo was doing this one with me, as he is with all my runs this year.  He and I started out at a pretty good pace.  I covered the first 3ish trail miles at a pretty good pace.  This is, by the way, a superbly planned and executed trail run.  They take good care of their runners. Despite trying to kill them with the course, they take care of them.

And then, well, then we got to the base of the first climb.

The next 2-3 miles were pretty awful.  They went up...and up...and up...over 3 miles, it became increasingly steep.  It took us 2 hours from start until we reached the 6 mile aid station at the peak of the first climb.

My fingers were swelling, and my nails turning grey.  I was panting, and hauling myself uphill at about a 30+ minute pace.  I had a pounding headache and my heart was pumping like crazy.  And remember, I live at 6000 feet.  But by the time I got up to 8800 feet, I could trot or run on flats and downhills, but when I had to use the big muscles to go up--wasn't happening.

I knew things weren't going to get any better, or easier, so reluctantly I told Baboo, I'm done.  I kissed him goodbye and decided to continue on the half marathon course.  Before I left, though, I had some Nutella on a graham cracker.  Well, wouldn't you?  You know who puts Nutella at a trail ultra aid station?   The best aid station volunteers in the world, that's who.















So, I turned right, instead of left, and headed down on the half marathon trail:

  See this part way over on the right?  

Yeah. I forgot about that.

The downhill, but the way, is not as nice as it looks.  There is no shade, and lots of loose ground and bare boulders to go over.  Plus, I forgot that after you reach the bottom, there is yet MORE climbing.  And due to lack of training, my legs were toasted.  I kept repeating to myself Don't forget how much this sucks.  Don't you forget about how much this sucks and sign up to do it next year.  DON'T DO IT.  don't you do it.  

I finished the half marathon, but of course I'm not listed as a finisher because that's not the one I started.  

One thing that was fun: The half marathon actually started at 8, and I had started at 6.  About 2 miles from the finish, the front runners caught up to me.  So the moral of the story is, you can give me a 2-hour head start and still beat me.  :)

Baboo, went on to finish this in just under 10 hours.  

And, yes, (sigh)  I'll probably try to clear up my DNF next year.  I'll have to run up and down the 10,000 mountain near my house to do it, but I have to do something.  I hate have DNFs. I always go back and clear them.  

IF YOU GO: 

Take a tank of oxygen.

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