Thanksgiving is Great for Running

So, if you've tuned in this long, you know that me running a race = a race recap is forthcoming. And I hate to disappoint my fan. ;)

Before writing this, I went back and checked out my race recap from the Turkey Trot in 2007. I have not in any way forgotten that race; I was cold, sore, and miserable, not to mention painfully slow-moving. But when I reread my thoughts from the next day, all I can think is "Wow." We were brand-new to the club then; we only knew a few people; and I wasn't thinking of ever running anything longer than 10 miles (if that!). And most astonishing of all, I had only run about 6 1/2 miles in one go before that race, and my longest race to date had been a 5K. Our running, our friendships with others in the club, and our (okay, my-- Chad already had his sights on a half-marathon at this point) ideas of how far we can run have changed dramatically in the past two years. I don't know that I've ever had any area of my life change that much in such a short time... and yet, here I am!

So, race recap... Sarah & I ran together again. I'm a bit wary of running with others, just because I hate to slow anyone else down. (And Sarah has longer legs than I do; it's not likely she'll ever slow me down!) We went out too fast, as I ever do, so I did have to slow it up a bit in the middle.

Hills! My goodness, there were a bunch! Okay, this was not a surprise, but I've not been training on hills, because I'm silly, so I was having to chant "up and over" to myself a lot. Admittedly, these hills were easier than the ones I ran on two weeks ago.

So, there is one hill leading to the final turnaround, with less than a mile to go. I think it's probably the easiest hill in the entire course, but coming at the end, it's still tiring and a bit discouraging to anyone who is already struggling. Thankfully, this was not me this time around, because I was wearing a watch and was elated at how fast we were running without me wanting to drop down dead. So we got up & over, and I said hello to Chad at the turnaround (he was volunteering) and then threw my gloves to him, because I was done with them.

Coming down the hill was fantastic. First, running downhill is just fun. Second, there were a lot of people behind us. A lot. Normally, this is not something I rejoice in (because I've had my share of races when I am dead last or pretty close to it), but I was amazed. Third, we were nearly done. So, I've got a big silly grin on my face, and I was shouting encouragement (I thought) to those still struggling to get up to the top. I yelled "Almost there!" to a group of women who were most emphatically not grinning, meaning they were almost to the turnaround. One of them shouted back, "We are not!" so I guess she didn't appreciate my encouragment.

It's kind of an annoying thing to runners that people shout "Almost there!" at dumb moments, like mile 16 of a marathon (10 miles to go), or the 10K point of a half marathon (not even halfway!). But really, with less than a mile to go, you ARE almost there. So, I'm not sure why this poor woman wasted her breath to answer me back.

The next group of runners seemed a bit happier, so when I told them "Last hill!" I got a "Woohoo" in return. Okay, they had much more breath left than I did. :)

So, down the hill, round the corner, under the bridge, into a parking lot, and over the finish line with Scotland the Brave playing in my ears. And a 14-minute PR for me. No medals this time, but I got 1 point in the challenge series! Woo hoo! Actually, the 3rd place plaque in the 30-34 age group is solidly mine; the woman in 4th place doesn't have enough races left to catch me in the points. Now, I am going for another 66-Mile Club t-shirt. I have 3.75 miles to go; we have one 4-mile race remaining. Talk about cutting it close.

Oh, Christmas Tea

So, with over 100 RSVPs (and counting), half-a-dozen door prizes, a committee that still seems okay with my high level of frazzledness, and a couple of days to go, the Christmas Tea is marching ever closer.

The most we've ever had RSVP ahead of time is about 55. The most we've had turn up is about 85. Part of me is worried we won't have enough tables set up, while the rest of me is concerned about a lot of empty tables staring at me come Monday night.

The food will be good, the fellowship will be sweet, the games will be fun, the laughter will be, um, hysterical, if the past couple of years are anything to go by-- and in the meantime, I will be in high-stress mode.

Stay tuned... it's coming faster than I would like.

Friday Countdown

Christmas tea: 3 DAYS!!!
Redline 4-mile race: 15 days
Christmas: 28 days
Anniversary: 35 days
Vancouver Olympics: 76 days
Austin Marathon: 78 days

Farther along (I think)

Language is kind of a hobby of mine.

It's not a hobby I give a lot of time to, mind you, but I do find so many things about languages fascinating. How they evolve, how they work, what makes this word better than that one, and so on-- it's all interesting. Here's a fun one for you: When I was learning Scots Gaelic, I learnt the phrase "Is math sin", which is pronounced "Ish ma shin", which sounds like "Smashing", which in Scotland is slang for "Good", which just happens to be what "Is math sin" means. Cool, eh?

As it happens, English is the language I have the most fun with, being as it is my native language and all. I've never had to work hard at English, which I'm pretty sure annoys other people to no end, but it's easy for me. (Hey, I have to put hours and hours into maths & sciences. Leave me alone.)

And therefore, it annoys me that I have a hard time with "farther" and "further". This is not an uncommon struggle; you will find this pairing on most lists of frequently confused words. But, I'm not used to confusing words. Give me "affect" and "effect" or "lie" and "lay" any day, and I've got you covered. And even more annoying is this: I know the difference between "farther" (refers to literal distance) and "further" (refers to figurative distance or degree) perfectly well; it's when applying them in everyday speech & writing that I have issues.

So here is where the real problem lies: I've never had to work at English, so I've no idea how to imprint all this knowledge onto my brain in order to make it habit. Sigh.

Do Dooo Do Do Do... BN BN

Yeah, so that title will probably make sense to no one but me. Here's the short version: It was an advert in Britain about 10 years ago for cookies called BN. And that's what I think of whenever I see Barnes & Noble's abbreviation.

So, Barnes & Noble! Yeah, we got a new one, just about a quarter mile north of where the old one was. The new one has two floors, comfy-looking chairs (I didn't actually try any of them), free wifi, and the ubiquitous Starbucks (didn't try that, either). Oh, and one long escalator just going up, and one even longer coming down. And, as a bonus, there is a mall outside their doors, too.

So, I wandered over to the running section first, as it my wont, and found an amusing little book called I Run, Therefore I Am- Nuts. I think I'll have to buy that book; it made me giggle a lot just from the couple of chapters I read. After a casual wander round the ground floor (which included spotting The Book of Completely Useless Information, or something like that-- story of my life), I took the escalator up. I wanted to take the stairs, but, um, there weren't any.

I then hit all the other high points of any visit to a bookstore-- the craft section (which looked exactly like a craft section should, by the way; all the books are different sizes, so there was no nice & tidy sitting evenly on the shelf here), the scifi section (which has the largest selection of Terry Pratchett books I've ever seen outside of the UK), and the children's section (alas, here I was disappointed).

Unless I am very much mistaken, the children's section was pretty much the same as in the old store. I was hoping for more, but-- no. Sigh. And the Spanish children's books had just as meager a selection as before. I'm thinking I'll have to make a trip to Mexico to get children's books in Spanish that don't include Dora.

Also, I saw a book called Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Now, if that isn't a winner, I don't know what is.

Sesame Street...

... turned 40.

It's a bit odd for me to think of this show that has be so influential in the lives of millions of children as being 40 years old. Firstly, I think, "Only 40 years? Really? How is it that no one thought of this programme before 1969?" But my next thought is, "Forty years? But it still seems so new!"

And I imagine both thoughts are correct.

Since I have younger siblings, I watched Sesame Street much longer than is the "norm". Which means that when I run across an episode, it's like seeing childhood friends from school, rather than half-remembered preschool pals. Gordon and Susan, Mr. Hooper, Luis and Maria, Bob, Linda-- put me in a room with these people, and I'd be as delirious as a tween seeing the cast of New Moon. By golly, you'd better have something handy for them to autograph.

And the Muppets-- holy smokes. I have too many favourites. My Sesame Street days pre-dated Elmo by quite a bit, although I do remember when Snuffy might have been Big Bird's imaginary friend. Oscar, Grover, Bert & Ernie, Guy Smiley, Prairie Dawn, Kermit, Count, The Two-Headed Monster-- I love them all. My favourite, though-- my absolute, unmistakable, could-watch-these-guys-all-day favourites are the Yip Yips. I have days when I approach the entire world pretty much like the Yip Yips: "Not home. Nope. Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip uh-huh." I can see my work environment getting suddenly more entertaining if I spoke to my coworkers that way.

And then there were the cartoons. Teeny Little Super Guy, The Typewriter, the Pinball machine that counted to 12-- I still can't count to 12 without singing the song. And who could ever forget "a loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter."

I hope this show lasts to its 100th anniversary-- and beyond.

Monday, Monday

All good things must come to an end, including a free weekend trip to see Peter Pan and approximately 200 other people in the process.

So, I had one final morning of sleeping in (man, do I miss that!) before heading out for another round of visits-- this time, it was the shops that had my attention. Marsh had the Snapple I wanted (By the way, best stuff on Earth? They aren't kidding!); Wal-Mart had the Tetley. So, we had to go to both. And the very friendly cashier at WM took a huge step over the gulf that has long existed between me and nationwide chain stores (and Wal-Mart in particular) when, upon noticing that I had enough Tetley to last me for the next six months, she said, "Now, did you know you can order anything at Wal-Mart and have it shipped to your local store?"

As it happens, I did know that, but it had never occured to me that they meant tea when they said that; I though it was stuff like flat-panel TVs. No, apparently I can get myself a box of Tetley delivered to my Lubbock WM, which for me is so local that it is within walking distance. Brilliant.

So after this jolly discovery, we took Grandma back home, and tried to go see another of our three dozen cousins, but we had no luck, because she works nights & was sound asleep when we went to her house. This is probably just as well, really; I would feel pretty guilty getting her up for 20 minutes' worth of chitchat.

After that, it was a whirl of throwing all my stuff back into the suitcase, saying goodbye & thank you to Grandma, and loading it all up in Dad's truck. Then we had to go to Mum's work to say goodbye to her (and I got to meet the boss), then a stop by McDonald's so Denise could deliver something & we could get some lunch, then off to the airport. By the way, Indianapolis has a beautiful airport.

The security people stopped me so they could measure my scissors! Man, all the fun stuff happens to me at airport security.

Northwest Airlines sent me to Detroit first, for reasons passing understanding. I have to say that while I would have preferred a more direct route, it was worth it (almost) to have a look at the Detroit airport. Another beautiful building. I walked the entire length of Terminal A because I had three hours to just hang out.

And whatever my grievances against Northwest Airlines (and believe me, I have a list), their pilots are brilliantly good at landing. Every landing I experienced this weekend was so very smooth, and a couple of them I wasn't sure for a second if we were actually on the ground or if it was just turbulence. That's how smooth it was. This is in contrast to our Continental landing last summer, when I'm pretty sure we were shot down.

More Saturday, and some Sunday, too.

So, after a successful 15K, I sat around for the rest of the day. Not on purpose, mind you; I thought there was going to be some mall-going, which didn't happen. I did hang out with the kids and get some Christmas tea stuff done. And I discovered that at least one of Grandma's neighbours doesn't protect his/her internet. Thank you, unknown internet user! If not for your selfless silliness, I could never have shown my parents what their house looks like on Google Earth.

Billy wanted pizza for dinner (it was his birthday, after all), so we went to Cici's. This is a favourite of my husband as well as my brother, so I was right at home, but I was not prepared for the awe that my father had for such a thing as pizza buffets. Yeah, he doesn't get out much.

I was all in a dither on Sunday morning, because we normally go to early service, but Greenfield only has one and it is at 10:45. Turns out, I can sleep in with the best of them, but it was still odd for me. Saw friends and loved ones, and heard yet again my favourite thing to hear when visiting this church where I grew up: "You're Billy & Denise's sister? I didn't know they had another sister!" Apparently, my existence is a well-kept secret. At least, that's what Denise said when I asked her why so many people in Greenfield act surprised to meet me.

After some earnest discussion about what to have for lunch (and the rather unhappy discovery that Marsh does not have decaf British Blend Tetley), we landed back at Grandma's eating tacos. Beef tacos, which is odd, again, after eating turkey tacos for the past five or so years.

Then, it was off on a round of visits: Jenny's parents, Billy & the kids (to say goodbye, since I wouldn't see them on Monday), the other Grandma (Dad's mum), then Amanda. Yep, I went to see Amanda at 10 PM. I haven't gone to see anyone at 10 PM since I was an aim student.

And then I went back to Grandma's, annoyed Denise for a few minutes, and went to bed.

Saturday

I already gave you the 15K recap, so here's the stuff I left out.

Jennie & I took a wrong turn before we got to the park & had to turn around. You'd think a state park would be better-marked, but you would be wrong. Once we got there, we knew we were in the right place because of the long queue of cars waiting to get in. And there was one lonely park ranger having to take every car's entrance fee & hand out change. Fortunately, he didn't have to give directions, because it was pretty evident where we were supposed to go.

Greenfield-Central (that was my high school, for those keeping score at home) brought five students & four coaches, all of whom ran the 15K. I know this because I spoke to one of the coaches at the start line... and that was the last I saw of any of them. Yep, I'm slow. They were not.

The course was absolutely fantastic. Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said the hills kicked my bum. But the start was so lovely; all the fall leaves on the ground, the air was fresh, the dew was still on the grass; if I didn't know better, I'd have said it was an April morning, not November. But, it was just over a quarter of a mile into the race when we hit the first uphill, and my word, it never stopped.

The mile markers were spray-painted in orange on the ground. I missed the 1-mile mark because I didn't realise that was what I was supposed to be looking for. The turnaround for the 15K was at a horse barn, and the spray-painter, in what was either a public service or a source of personal amusement for him/her, had circled a rather large pile of horse doo. (Had it been me wielding the can, it would have been entirely for my amusement.)

Jennie, by the way, had a brilliant first 5K. She went into the race thinking that I would be done before her (silly sister-in-law; she thinks I can run fast! Boy, did I show her!), which was kind, but not at all an accurate picture of reality. By her own account, she went out too fast, then hit the first hill. And all the leaves, dirt, and other things that made the morning so fresh & appealing for me caused her allergies to do a fandango inside her lungs, so that she had to slow down quite a bit by mile 3. And then when she did finish, she was stuck standing around waiting for me. But, the running community is nothing if not gregarious (once we all finish running, that is), so by the time I was done she was talking to someone about her shin splints. I still feel bad that I left her in a crowd of strangers for nearly an hour, but I am delighted that she had such an open-arms welcome from other runners, even as Chad & I had two years ago at our own first race.

We got some t-shirts to commemorate our adventure, and stood around for the awards, hoping to snag some door prizes. (No joy there, at least not for me; Jennie got a hat for Billy, 'cause it was much too big for her head.) And on the way home, we stopped for a very tasty drink at Taco Bell. Frutista Freeze, maybe? Great stuff.

Peter Pan

So, a couple of months ago, before they even had auditions for Peter Pan, Amanda's drama coach mentioned on Facebook the musical version of Peter Pan has never been done in Hancock County. He was wrong, as it happens, but it hasn't been done since 1987, so I suppose he can be excused his little memory lapse. The more so since, as Amanda and Jennie both assure me, he's a great teacher.

We got to the school uber-early, because my family can only show up early for things that it's not actually important that we show up early for. You see, they were under the impression that if we got there early, we could get better seats. I didn't bother telling them that your seat was assigned when you bought the ticket, because experience has taught me that there is no point trying to argue with my father or grandmother. Besides, saying "I told you so" is a lot more fun when I didn't actually tell them so, but they think that I did. Ha!

So, I kept the kids busy by walking laps around the school, regaling them with (really boring) tales from when it was my school, and explaining the things that were different ("This used to be at the other end of the building; through here was tile, not carpet; I used to go to class in that room, back when it was a room", etc.). Then the doors were opened, and in we went. It took a minute to collect Grandma from the wrong side of the room and bring her back to where we belonged, and even longer to get everyone settled, and longer still for the girl in front of Denise & I to believe that we were covering our mouths when we sneezed, and weren't sneezing directly into her hair. (If only I were joking.)

So, the show was fantastic. Peter Pan is very interactive, and this version was no exception; we were drawn into the show with jokes, gags, and pirates running wild through the audience. Amanda, as I already mentioned, was the cutest Indian ever. Plus, she had enough beads on her costume for all the others combined; quite literally, as only one other Indian had any. But, the abundance of beads made it easy for the kids to spot her, since they've only seen her a couple of times & don't really know who she is.

Did I mention the flower? No? Well, there is a very old tradition at GC that the drama parents (or someone) sell flowers for the students. You write a message, hand over a dollar, and the thespian of your choice gets an encouraging (and pretty) message during intermission. Well, that's almost what happened; I guess intermission was busy, none of the students got their flowers, and therefore Amanda didn't know that I was there until after the show, when she saw Grandma waving frantically at her. And me, standing beside Grandma. The look that came over her face was priceless; if only I'd had the camera handy. Surprise!

Also, I had a chance to chat with the choir director, who is one of only a handful of teachers left from my schooldays. (Yep, I finished 'em off!) She thinks Amanda is wonderful, too. And rightly so.

Friday Countdown

Thanksgiving/Turkey Trot: 6 days
Christmas Tea: 10 days
Redline: 22 days
Christmas: 35 days
Anniversary: 42 days
Olympics: 83 days
Austin Marathon: 85 days

Friday

So, I got on an airplane in the wee hours. This is the same flight (sort of-- you get what I mean) that was delayed when I went to Indiana in May, that resulted in me having this free flight in the first place. No such luck this time around-- we took off on time, and I promptly fell asleep, because it was 6 AM, I'd been up since 4:30, and hadn't gone to bed until midnight.

And then I woke up again. Oh, did you think I could sleep on a moving plane? Silly! As soon as the sun came up, I gave up on the whole sleep thing altogether and began working on my wreath. The flight attendant stopped to watch for a second, and said, "I haven't done that in years!" Apparently these peppermint wreaths were quite the rage a decade or so ago. Who knew?

Landed in Memphis, found out my next gate was directly across from my first gate & that I had 45 minutes to go 10 feet, so I went hunting for some food. Met a really nice woman with a beautiful accent who is from Louisiana. (Can I just add that I am meeting people from Louisiana everywhere I go? It's not really a surprise, what with Katrina scattering New Orleans residents all over the map, but I was expecting it to level off by now.)

One more flight, landed in Indy (smoothest landing ever; great job, pilot!), and my bag was already circling the carousel by the time I got down to baggage claim. Collected the bag, Dad and Denise, and then we had an amusing game of I Think We Parked On This Row. Once that was all settled, away we went.

Had lunch at Steak & Shake (and I highly recommend the Guacamole Burger), went to Grandma's, tried to finish one of the quilts, got the thread all jumbled up in the bobbin, and gave it up. Grandma said she would finish them both off for me in time for Christmas. Thanks, Grandma!

Collected the kids, ate some spaghetti (why I can't cook spaghetti like Grandma does I shall never know; she always gets the texture perfect), then got all dressed up for Peter Pan.

Oops.

Missed a few days. It happens.

So, I added to my blogroll again (BKing (no, that isn't short for Burger King or biking)-- go check it out), because I can't get enough of other people's words. I'm a reader. I've been a reader for so long, I don't remember not being able to read. (Thank you, Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, & Electric Company. Especially Electric Company.) I've always dreamed of being a writer, but the truth is, my best writing has always been tinted with others' words. And I'm pretty sure that's called plagarism. Bummer.

But I look at my blogroll, and see names of people I've known for a long time, some I've known for a short time, and some I'll never know in person. And the name that jumped out at me tonight was Anne Ryder.

She hasn't posted in five months (or so Blogger says). She is a remarkably infrequent poster. I've never met her in person, not even long enough for an autograph. I likely never will. I should, in the interest of tidyness & keeping my blogroll under control, just take her off my list.

But I won't. Because when she posts, it's a good read. (I hope someone feels that way about my blog!) Sometimes, it's pure gold. And even if those things weren't true... she was one of my childhood heroes. Sesame Street characters aside, she may have been my first childhood hero-- and much more so than anyone on Sesame Street, because she is a real person, not a character. And I was still listening to her-- and looking forward to it-- on a daily basis, long after I lost interest in Big Bird and the Teeny Little Super Guy (even though he was pretty cool).

So, blog on, friends and strangers alike. I am waiting to read what you have to say.

Amanda

I'm probably going to hear something about this pic-- it is a couple of years old, after all-- but the only other ones I have are from when she was five. I thought this was probably the best I could do.

My littlest cousin is not so little any longer (she's been taller than me since she was, I don't know, 11?), but she is still dear to my heart. She's a band and drama nerd. She is uber-smart. She got her share of the pretty genes, and it's possible that she took mine, too. (I want those back, by the way!) She is cool, she is fun, and she is an all-around lovely person.

And since she is a senior in high school, and this weekend was her last musical in high school, and I had a free ticket on Northwest, I flew up to see Peter Pan. And my littlest cousin takes the "cutest Indian ever" award.

And tonight we watched the Colts win together. I'll add that to my "never thought I'd do that" list. (Watch the Colts, that is.)

15K

I ran a trail race today.

The race's website rated that hills as a 4 out of 5 on a difficulty scale, and they weren't kidding. They also said that you could stay dry when crossing a creek if you were careful. They may have been kidding about that.

This was my first time running on trails, and I am totally hooked. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of trails to run on in Lubbock.

Anyway, between trying not to fall into any ruts or turn my ankles on loose rocks, and stay out of the way of other runners, I am completely worn out. But hey, I got the PR I was looking for.

Friday Countdown

Turkey Trot: 13 days
Christmas tea: 17 days
Christmas: 42 days
Anniversary: 49 days
Vancouver Olympics: 90 days
Austin marathon: 92 days

Bunko!

I do fully intend to devote at least one post in November, and perhaps two or three, to the 40th anniversary of Sesame Street and my celebration thereof. I'm just putting it off to heighten the excitement.

So tonight was Bunko night.

Women in the 1700s had tea parties. In the 1800s, it was quilting bees. In various decades throughout the 1900s, we had home parties for everything under the sun. In the 2000s, for me at least, it's Bunko.

We shriek. We laugh. We cry. We scream. We sing. Sometimes, all at once. The game is really just background for all the conversation going on.

And at the end, we all say goodnight and go home smiling. With prizes, no less.

We could solve a myriad of interpersonal relationship issues with a game of Bunko. Saving the world, one set of dice at a time.

In Remembrance

I wore a poppy today. All day.

Which meant I also did a lot of explaining today. Because we in the US don't normally see poppies for Veterans' Day, and apparently "In Flanders Fields" is not on the required reading list in Texas schools. (And to judge by at least one comment I heard today, WWI is also not on the curriculum.)

But a local grocery store was handing them out this weekend, and while I missed out on that, I can Google "poppy" with the best of them, print one out, and pin it on. Which is what I did.

Veterans' Day, Armistice Day, Remembrance Day-- call it what you like. I call it a day for reflection, for sadness and for gratitude. A day to let our soldiers know they are appreciated. A day to honour those who will never hear our thanks. A day for wishing that the "War to End all Wars" had indeed been so. Alas that it was not.

Keep walking...

I don't understand why people in this country don't walk.

Okay, I do understand it if, like my parents, you live five miles from anything. I understand if you are mobility-impaired. I understand that not everyone can walk everywhere.

I don't understand people for whom the walk from their front door to their mailbox is almost too far.

Yes, this post has been inspired by my lovely walk to work today. And it was so lovely, that I want everyone else to try it once, just to see how nice it is. Not every day! Not necessarily to work, either; you can just as easily walk somewhere else. Just once! Just to try it!

I loved every episode of season four of Doctor Who. But possibly my favourite (favourites, actually; it was a two-parter) was the episode that involved a device on half the cars in the world which cut the emissions down to nothing. Totally cool idea, by the way; and the sooner we invent one, the better. The problem for the Doctor, of course, was that the devices could also be used to do the opposite; the aliens controlling the devices used them to produce human-choking chemical soup that happened to be perfect conditions for alien cloning. Bummer.

So the episode ends with cars parked in driveways throughout London, and neighbours happily chatting about walking to the shops instead of driving. It was a great scene, and gave this two-parter a serious bump on my "great episode!" scale.

I hope we do start walking. And I hope it doesn't take an alien invasion to convince us to do so.

One Year Ago

So, I've been a half-marathoner for a year.

That's kind of wild, really; in the past two years, I've gone from "I'm never running that kind of distance" to "Hey, it's not so bad, really," to "I know-- how about I do a full marathon?" I don't know where this kind of insanity comes from.

So, a year ago yesterday I ran my first half. It was rough, mostly because I went out too fast. But I finished, and was so happy about that. I'm still happy about it, one year later.

Sadly, I won't be repeating that race this year. Which is really a bummer, because I wanted to have my revenge upon those hills. Chad is doing it, though, which should be entertaining.

I, meanwhile, will be chasing a new 15K PR. Shouldn't be too hard, since the old one has been around for a year and a half, and I've gotten quite a bit faster in that interval. We shall see!

A letter to the Busyness Gremlin

Dear Busyness Gremlin:

I don't know how you found me. I've been successfully avoiding you for years, even when everyone else has been seeking you out. I kept away from your and your ploys, but when I let my guard down, in you came. A plague upon you!

I would like my non-busy life back. Now. I am perfectly content to be unhurried, unbusyed, and unbothered. There are plenty of other people who will be happy to let you direct their lives, so just you go harry them instead for a while.

So, this is what I suggest: Go away. Only for a week or two, mind you; I will allow you to return on Thanksgiving Day. You can stay with us for the holidays (after all, that is your prime time of year), if you like. Five weeks of my life that you can busy on up to your little gremlin heart's content.

But, come January, you are gone. The marathon gremin is coming to stay for a six-week engagement on January 1st, and he will show you the door. Sorry to seem so harsh, but after all, he made reservations ahead of time.

Pack your bags, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks.

Sincerely,
Susan

There is a flag that's flown

Our office is not good at keeping up with our flag.

You see, like most other offices, we have a flag outside. And since there are no longer regulations regarding nighttime illumination, and there are such things as all-weather flags, the flag goes up on the pole & stays there until it is tatty. Such is the way of office flags, to judge by many of the ones I saw today.

When former President Ford died a couple of years ago, I got to the office one day and mentioned to our office manager that ours was the only flag in town not at half-mast, and that we should probably fix it. She ignored me. (In case anyone was wondering how much pull I have at my office, there is your answer.) Not until three or four people stopped by to complain that we had the only flag in town not at half-mast did the powers that be decide to do something about it.

Yesterday, someone stopped by to complain that we didn't have our flag at half mast. We corrected it right away, so I suppose we've learned something in the past couple of years. (I certainly have; I didn't waste breath telling anyone we needed to fix it.)

Our poor flag is so unfortunate; nothing ever happens to it unless someone stops to complain. It could be 13 strips of fabric loosely held together by a single thread, and we would probably never realise it if not for the flag police. (I call them that because, seriously, who stops at an office to go in & complain about the state of the flag? There must be an official position for that.)

And that gets me wondering about flags in general. I mean, what we have in this country is, as I've said, 13 strips of fabric sewn together. That makes 12 seams, or 12 weakest points for a flag to fray at. I'm sure that all-weather flags are made with the best thread available, but still, combine that many weak spots with the wind out here and you have a recipe for a very tattered flag.

Which is what happens. Most of the flags in this town have tattered edges. I guess that's a sign they've been doing their job. You won't catch me complaining.

Friday Countdown

Just because I can... and because Mark Remy is doing it. Such a bad example!

My next 15K: 8 days
Chad's half marathon: 8 days
Turkey Trot: 20 days
Christmas Tea: 24 days
Christmas: 49 days
My Anniversary: 56 days
Vancouver Olympics: 97 days
Austin Marathon: 99 days

And before you ask... no, I will not include your birthday in my countdown.

The Bicycle Came Back!

My bicycle had to go in for its three-month checkup.

Actually, I probably would have forgotten that the cost of buying a new bike from the good people at DFC included free adjustments for 90 days, but I woke up yesterday morning to a back tire that was extremely flattened. I think this is due to a mysterious object I ran over on Tuesday (swerved & missed it with the front tire; ran over it with the back one. Oops).

So, one new tire & one new screw for the over-the-tire rack later, and I'm back in business. And the nice young man also tightened up things that had come loose (I guess-- that's what he was supposed to do, anyway). So, my still-like-new bike is all ready to go tomorrow.

Also in the news today... I had a really good run this evening. The really good runs are the ones that keep me going back out again every day, even on the days that aren't really good.

And, since I know you are wondering: 100 days until I LOVE Austin!

NBC is doing it!!

Advertising for the Olympics, that is. I take that as justification for me to do it, too. :)

So, I was sitting in my college speech class about four and a half years ago. It was our first speech, and "introduce yourself" type thing, and the topics revolved around interesting things that happened on our birth day/month/year. Everything was rolling along smoothly and I already had earned my own grade, and was enjoying my classmates' speeches.

Then, this innocent young 20-year-old man got up, to tell us all about being born in 1984. In the course of his speech, he said (and I am not kidding), "1984 was the only year that the Winter and Summer games were held in the same year."

Cue me, falling out of my chair. Okay, not really, but I did a serious slump. Never mind that I can remember the 1984 Olympics (thank you, Mary Lou!), but these people couldn't even remember both games being held in the same year! It didn't change that long ago! 1994, to be exact, was the first year of separation!

Sigh. So at the end of class, in great Susan's-foot-in-mouth style, I asked, "So, does everyone over 25 feel really old now?" And in unison, the other six or so non-traditional students all answered, "Yes."

At least I wasn't alone. So my cautionary tale is this: When giving a speech, do some research first.

100 Days

The Vancouver Olympics are 100 days away. And I'd like to add my own "Huzzah!" to the myriads of cheers going up.

Yeah, I love the Olympics. Summer, winter, near, far, live, prerecorded... doesn't matter. I'll watch it all. The night of the opening ceremonies, I'll be... in Austin. Possibly watching, depending upon what the people we're staying with are doing. It's totally in their hands whether or not I watch the opening.

But the next day, I'll be watching. All day, while sitting in my hotel room with my feet up. You see, the Olympics open the weekend of the Austin marathon. Which, by the way, is 102 days away.

I don't keep up with most winter sports in non-Olympic years, mostly because it makes me cold just to watch. But I am sad we won't see Joey Cheek back again in the speed skating, because he so inspired me last time around by his committment to champion a cause (Right to Play). And something he said in an interview has stuck with me throughout my running journey to date:

Reporter: What's the hardest thing about being an Olympian?

Joey Cheek: Training until you throw up. Every day.

Mr. Cheek is now also working for Team Darfur, continuing to use what influence he has for the good of others. If that isn't enough to inspire me, then nothing else could possibly be, either.

I don't train nearly that hard. But the thought that others do makes me push myself when I'd rather lay down on the pavement and take a nap. Day 3 of the Vancouver Olympics will find me lining up at my own start line, putting my own training to the test, seeing if my own hopes will be fulfilled. I can't wait. And I hope I can do some good along the way.

(I don't know what is wrong with Blogger today. Please ignore the rather random formatting.)

Happy Days are Here Again

So, I've had a bit of a problem with Lubbock drivers lately.

You see, I do a lot of running, cycling, and walking. Most of this city does a lot of driving. There's a bit of a conflict of cultures in that. And in the past couple of weeks, I've witnessed a lot of stupid driving that could (and in at least two cases, nearly did) jeopardise my life.

So, I produced a series of "pep talks" on Facebook to encourage the Lubbock drivers to stay in their lanes, observe traffic laws, and most importantly, actually see the pedestrians & cyclists out there. For reasons passing understanding, it is widely accepted that drivers do not see anything smaller than a car. Sigh.

Then, one day last week, I was on the far right of 34th street and needed to get to the left-turn lane. I looked around, saw one truck waaaaay back, stuck my arm out, and crossed over to the middle, where I had to come to a stop. The driver of the truck pulled up next to me, and since we had a red light, he rolled down his window for a brief friendly chat.

Since that day, I haven't been able to bring myself to complain about the Lubbock drivers-- all because of one act of kindness. To paraphrase Maria Trapp (yes, that Maria Trapp) in her highly enjoyable book The Sound of Music, "Why do we use this magic wand so little? It would turn this world into a paradise."

I don't know the abbreviation

And I'm not even going to try it. But November is basically a do-everything-you-ever-thought-about month, including blogging every day. I managed it last year (pre-Facebook, mind you); can I do it again?

So, first order of business: My first full marathon is 15 weeks away. I'm running 26.2 miles on Valentine's Day. How romantic is that? I mean, Chad is running it, too, but it's not like we'll be running together. I'll probably wait for him at the finish line, but that's the extent of the romance. Perhaps we'll take along some post-race chardonnay. Ha! I thought about taking advantage of the post-race massage booth, but apparently it's bad for your muscles to get a massage immediately after.

So, I'm left with... a piece of chocolate cake at our post-race lunch? That may be the best I can do. Hmmm.

Second order of business: The Ladies' Christmas Tea is 29 days away (four weeks tomorrow!). I'm running it, and getting by with some help from my friends, for the third hit year.

Expect to hear a lot about those two things this month. And any other really bizarre thing that comes to mind.

The Doctor is In

I've watched a lot of Doctor Who this week. It's addled my brain.

And straight after finishing an episode of Doctor Who, I get on the internet to read another story about another suicide bombing in Iraq. Talk about reality banging down around me with some serious force.

I've reflected before that I don't know why God's people aren't praying for peace. We used to ("we" in the collective sense; I wasn't actually there). I don't know what happened. I hang around with people who love the Lord all the time, and I can't remember the last time I heard a prayer for peace.

I've heard all the arguments that there will never be peace in the Middle East. I've heard that the US won't care until we experience war firsthand (collectively, again; that's not a slur on our armed forces). I've heard that it's human nature to be at war. I've heard (and agree!) that we should support our troops whether or not we support the war. I've heard blah, blah, blah.

And I know it's the overabundance of this fantasy world that I've indulged in this week that makes me so emotional over a suicide bomber. Goodness knows I've read enough similar news reports in my lifetime. But if that's what it takes to get me to pay attention to something outside my realm every now and then, so be it.

I'm praying for peace. Everywhere. I hope you'll join me.

What? What??

Wow, I've gone over a month without blogging. Sheesh.

I have been taking a Facebook break this week, and I have to say, it's been great. Turns out, there are other things in life besides Facebook.

Fear not, any readers left out there; November is blog every day month. It has a cooler name than that, actually; and as far as I know, it's also write a novel every day & pray to God every day month. And, I imagine, there are a few other things thrown in for good measure.

Because, when it comes down to it, what can you do in November anyway, really? It's all dark & cold out there.

Best. 10K. Ever.

I've been chasing a new 10K PR for six months. Last week, I had a fantastic 6-mile tempo run, so I had confidence that I could see that new PR yesterday.

So, I tried a couple of new things: 1. I wore a watch. 2. I had a plan.

Who knew that would work? Yeah, I know, every other runner on the planet.

Here's something that didn't change today: I went out too fast. Yep, my plan for mile 1 was to run it in 10:10. I looked at my watch at the 1-mile mark, saw 9:46, and said, "Oops."

Too late for fussing now; I had 5.2 miles to go. So, I slowed it down a bit, and hit the 2-mile mark in 20:09. I thought, "Perfect! But now I have to find a pace between those two."

I guess I found it; I don't remember my splits from there on out, but I turned around at 31:40ish, which meant I would have to run a negative split by a minute or two, as planned. So I was pretty much on track.

I saw Chad on the way back; he was a few minutes behind me and looking good!

I used mile 5 as a "recovery" mile-- went a bit slower than my overall planned pace so that I would be ready to lay it all out for mile 6. And that bit of the plan worked perfectly. I caught up to a couple of people who I had been trailing for the entire race, and hit the 6-mile point at just over one hour. Perfect!

It took less than two minutes to get from there to the finish, and my final time was 1:02:15-- a new PR by 42 seconds. Holy cow. (My "official" time is 1:02:20-- but they had some clock issues, so I think I may have been cheated out of a couple of seconds & it should have been more like 1:02:17.)

I don't think I can cut 42 seconds off every time, but I would be delighted to get the last 15 seconds off to get down to 1:02:00. From there, I can work on my ultimate goal to be under an hour. In the meantime, I'm going to train extra-hard to get in a sub-30-minute 5K before the end of the year.

You never know until you try!

I ran 14 miles last Saturday.

Now for the marathoners & ultras out there-- please hold your sneers. Others-- please hold your ooohs or "crazy!"s. Because truth be told, the run was neither too easy nor too hard.

I knew for the whole week leading up to Saturday what my distance would be. (I knew longer than that, actually, but I really try not to think more than a week ahead.) So, I was kind of nervous; after all, the longest I've ever run is 13.1 miles, and both times I've done that I've been rendered non-mobile for a week. Also, I knew it would take me about 3 hours (yes, I run slowly), and my fuel belt doesn't hold enough water to last that long.

So, I did take it slow. I started adding walk breaks a few weeks ago when my long runs went over 10 miles again, which helps with recovery & makes the distance less overwhelming. I chose a route that took me past stores, so I could get a refill when the time came. And Chad, who was running 6 miles on Saturday, met up with me when I had three miles to go.

I did it! Fourteen miles in three hours. This week is a recovery week, leading up to my 10K on Saturday. And the following Saturday, I do 14 again, on my way to longer (and scarier!) distances. But now, I know I can do it.

Back Again

So, the train from Sacramento to San Jose was fun. Getting to the airport from the train station was also fun. (Just by way of an aside, I would love to live in a place with a light rail service. That probably won't happen as long as I live in Lubbock.)

The San Jose airport is almost as small as the Lubbock airport, and a lot more crowded. But they are expanding, and it's a good thing! We were warned by various internet sources to expect delays, but we got in with no problems, in part thanks to the efforts of a Continental agent who already looked pretty harried at 11 AM.

I love airports, but the problem with an airport is that after a couple of hours, they will shove you into a tin can with wings. A cramped tin can. And this one had no TVs, no movie, and no way at all for me to not be bored out of my mind. Some day, we will have children who will ask "Are we there yet" for an entire 17-hour drive to Indiana, and I really will have no right to be upset with them. But, flying is faster than driving any day, so I can't complain too much.

And our pal Kate was waiting in Lubbock to bring us home. Yay! Home!

Uphill & back down

We went up to Pollock Pines to see Grandpa's siblings & have lunch. It's a really nice drive, as long as I can manage to stave off motion sickness. Luck was with me this day, and we had a good drive, a good visit and a fantastic lunch, because Grandpa's family can cook with the best of them.

We got in the car to go home and the excitement began-- the car wasn't working. I've never heard what the problem was, but we couldn't accelerate. Rather than call AAA and wait three days (which is what Aunt Ann said was bound to happen), we decided to take it home the back way. Fortunately, the road from Pollock Pines to Placerville is all downhill. Unfortunately, the downhill stopped once we got to Placerville. So, after getting stuck (in other words, the car died) in traffic & getting some assistance from a nice young man who was just hanging out, the car came to a stop at Round Table Pizza. Chad stayed with the car & dealt with the tow truck, while the rest of us got Grandpa home.

So, that was more of an adventure than we wanted. Oops.

In a Casino

Our trip to California included my first visit to a casino. Now, I know for a lot of people (including Chad's grandpa), this is a source of great entertainment. I didn't see it, though; I really can think of more fun things to do with my money.

To a large extent, the casino was just as I've always pictured them to be (ably helped by TV and movies, of course): Lots of flashing lights, lots of noise, cigarette smoke, and young women wearing as little shiny material as possible serving drinks. However, unlike the movies, there were not uber-beautiful under-25 people sitting at every machine. This was the middle-of-the-day crowd, after all, which apparently means "retired."

A highlight of the casino was the restaurant. We got the buffet, instead of the crazy-priced "gourmet" restaurant, and I gotta say, that was the best buffet food I've ever had in my life.

And after we got done, Chad found a dollar in his wallet to stick in a machine. Oooh, life in the fast lane.

Yes! I went on vacation!

Okay, I have this habit of promising gripping, exciting, detailed posts.

That almost never happens.

But let me tell you a bit about our trip to California, before memory fades completely...

My cousins' children are growing up. Waaaay too fast! The last time we saw them, Abby was six, Anny was one, and Chris & Addy were non-existent. Now, Abby is eleven, Anny is six, Chris is three & Addy is two! How did that happen?

What was really funny was that on our last trip, six-year-old Abby could hardly be peeled from my side. On this trip, six-year-old Anny could hardly be peeled from my side. She even got permission to sit with us during church, which was so sweet! It is hard to be admired by my small cousins, when I know that 1. I'm just not that great of a cousin, and 2. I'm not that great of a person, either. I shudder at the thought of how much responsibility all adults have when they have small eyes watching, and especially parents. Yikes! Time to start praying.

Chad's grandpa was very happy to see him, and we were pretty happy to see him, too. It's been too long since our last trip. Grandpa has terminal cancer, but that has not diminished his enjoyment of his family and friends. He gets tired, and I'm sure he gets discouraged, but he had on his "game face" while we were there and it was delightful to see him.

More to come...

Running for someone

I love watching sporting events on TV. I like them for the obvious reasons that everyone else does: they are entertaining, fun, a chance to see the best in the world turning sport into art, etc.

But, being a runner, I also love it for the inspiration it provides. Watching Roger Federer or Serena Williams tear up the tennis court makes me want to push myself that bit harder on my next run. I'll never be a Kara Goucher, I'll never make it to a national championships (not even when I'm old enough for the Senior Olympics!), and I will never so much as win a local race. But that doesn't mean I can't take the inspiration provided by the best of the best, and use that inspiration to be the best runner that I can be.

And I had another source of inspiration as I was running this morning. I'm sure everyone knows that "Labor Day" is synonymous with "MDA Telethon". There is a young man at church called Ben who has been on the local MDA broadcast every year since he can remember, I would imagine. He was diagnosed when he was three; he is now a senior in high school. Most MD patients his age are in wheelchairs, and I can only hope that most MD patients his age have so many devoted prayer warriors as he does.

I didn't even know Ben yet when I first saw him on TV; I just saw the announcement in the church bulletin that he would be on it. So, I tuned in. I had no idea, that Labor Day in 2002, that I was looking at a family who in a matter of months would become some of my favourite people on the planet. I didn't know I was looking at a remarkable young man who would steal my heart and make his way permanently onto my prayer list. I didn't know that I would one day hear his entire story from his parents and require nearly an entire box of tissues (and I still do, every time I hear it). I just saw a young family, with three energetic little boys, who were facing an uphill battle and were winning. They are still winning.

On Saturday, I'll run another 10K, something Ben will never do. This morning as I ran, getting ready for Saturday, I thought of all the people who have rallied around Ben and his family. I thought of all the prayers sent heavenward on his behalf in the past 17 years, and added my own prayer to them this morning. I thought of how he'll be on TV later, and the city of Lubbock that has watched him grow up will see him one more time. I thought that come Saturday, when I start to get tired, I'll think of Ben and see if that doesn't push me to pick up the pace for one more mile.

Because it is amazing what one can do, when doing it for something (or someone!) beyond one's self.

Another five miles

Yes, my faithful reader, I am going to bore you with another race recap before getting on to my promised vacation posts.

Today's race is called Hot Dam, and for good reason. Seriously, we could just call it Dam Hot, but then we run a strong risk of offending half the local population. Alas. Anyway, this is the hottest race of the year (why we can't start at 7 AM, instead of 8, I shall never know), and the course takes us by the dam in Canyon Lake. Twice. Unless you are a short-distance person and only run the 2-mile course, in which case you never see the dam and might well think that the name is actually a commentary on the weather.

Anyway! We had a bit of a departure at the beginning; the man handed me my bib number and said, "Write an emergency contact number on the back of this for us, please." I said, "Okay," and wandered away thinking, 'Write it with what? Should I stick my finger and write in blood? My emergency contact doesn't have the car, it's here with me! What kind of race are we running out here today, anyway?' and so on. (BTW, I did stick my finger with a pin while putting on my number. Just goes to show that one shouldn't tempt fate, not even in one's own private thoughts. The Lord may be in need of amusement.)

I found a friend who is also on the board and asked her about this new policy, and she reminded me that a runner went down at last month's race, requiring an overnight stay at the hospital. Oh, yeah. Suddenly, all has become clear. So, I wrote Chad's number on the back, knowing that it would do no good whatsoever unless he had to say, "Yes, take her to the hospital," if I were unconscious. And I sincerely hoped that if I did go down, someone would announce the news to our friends from church who are also in the running club, and that they would be so kind as to get my car and drive it home.

The only thing of note that happened during this race was one of the aid stations running out of water. I don't really drink much water while racing; I generally use it for dumping over my head. However, there are not a lot of circumstances in which I would dump a cup of Gatorade on my head. If I were that hot, I'd just call it a day. Especially since the Gatorade was lukewarm. Ick.

So, I finished. No PR today, but better than I expected, given the temperature and the hills. And it was a fun race, in which no one required medical attention. Always a good sign.

Bright and shiny

It took five hours of my life and hunk of cash, but this baby now belongs to me:




Oh, yeah, this is a fun bike to ride!

Cycle's End

Yeah, so blogging every day in July was a pipe dream. Especially considering I was on holiday with spotty internet. I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps August will be better.

I will regale you with tales from California for the next few days, but let's just start with current events, shall we? This morning, I got my bike out to ride to work. I had a big silly grin on my face (as ever, when I miss out on anything for a few days) at the start because I was having so much fun.

There were a couple of things missing: 1. My stopwatch died while we were in California, so I was timer-free this morning, and 2. The big dog that normally acts like he'd like to have me for breakfast was nowhere to be seen. Odd.

So I'm rolling along, all fine and dandy, and was just about to cross the last major street between me and my destination, and I start to slow down for a red light, and I feel a snap. I squeezed the brake lever a couple of more times before I realise that I've begun to speed up again. Oh, no-- my brake cable broke.

I got safely to work, and safely back home again, but relying soley on my front brakes is risky business. Firstly, they are not too reliable themselves, and secondly, I have a hard time judging how slow I need to be moving before hitting said brakes. But, I got there in the end.

And tomorrow, I get to go be fitted for a brand-new bike. So, it's not all bad.

Blue & Green Go Well Together

There is really nothing better than green trees against a blue sky. Seriously. Especially when viewed through sunglasses, which make the colours more intense.

I thought I was dangerously close to the mad geese again today, but they were either 1) too hot to be bothered or 2) still full from their last victim. Either way, they ignored me.

And, the playa lake in the park is getting low again. I think it's time for some rain!

Almost midnight

I'm up late, chatting on Facebook, because I am just plain silly.

So I went to a girls' night tonight, which is quite a departure for me. But, from time to time I try to be social and friendly and stuff. We watched Bride Wars, which was quite funny. Nice ending, too.

This is probably the result of having caffeine today-- I should have known better! My coworkers all like me better when decaffeinated, anyway. But, I had a lot of work to do today, so I kept the looney to a minumum.

Bouncy Slides

So, we had a picnic & concert.

Picnic was good! Our grill masters at South Plains know what they are doing when it comes to making burgers. I don't eat beef unless it is cooked by someone else (I just do not like cooking it), so church picnics are about the only time I have burgers. We had some issues with the mayonnaise (both me & the nice young man ahead of me picked up bottles that were still sealed, leading to several minutes of struggling to get the seal off, then the woman behind me dripped water all over my burger bun trying to get herself some mayo), and I opened three coolers before I found the water, and most of the shade was already taken by the time we got there. However, minor inconveniences aside, it was good food and we had some nice fellowship with our friends.

After the first band and before the second, I went to explore the bouncy castles we had set up, to see if I was allowed to try them. There was no weight or age limit posted, so I went ahead up a rather tall slide. I also took a little friend with me-- a little girl, who was probably around two, was there with her grandmother who was not willing to try the bouncy slide. So, the two of us went up & then down again.

And that was when the fun started. The slide had been having some toppling issues, and one of the kids enlightened me that it was because several kids had climbed up to the very top at once and were trying to bring it down. Plus, those couple of minutes I was there was enough for me to discover there was a lot of shoving and no waiting in line for this slide. So, concerned as I was for the children's safety, I took over as the responsible adult, got them into line, made them take turns and only go up one at a time, and thus ensured that I would spend the rest of the evening at the foot of this slide.

Another of the bouncy creations was also a slide, only smaller and wider, and one of the kids had gotten the bright idea to dump bottled water on it. Which was the cue for all the kids to dump on bottled water. I thought it was a waste, but as the kids had to keep returning to the picnic area for more bottles, I felt sure that sooner or later a parent would intervene. It turned out to be later rather than sooner, as it happened.

Apparently the concert was not wonderful, so I didn't miss out on much. The kids were pretty fun, anyway, and I kept having to rescue the very small ones when the older ones got too rowdy. I'm always a bit leery of picking up kids who don't know me, but tonight I made a lot of exceptions to my own rule. Plus, I got to meet a mum when her little girl said "Mama!" a few times until I decided that I really had better find her mum and return her.

So, my verdict? We should have picnics more often, and skip the concerts.

Oops. Missed a day.

Oh, well, can't have everything.

So, our church started last year having a massive, one-weekend, community service day. They hoped for 50 people to come join in last year, and over 300 turned up. We all had a great day.

This weekend, we were at it again. Chad went yesterday to one of the local children's homes to help trim hedges, get tree branches off power lines, and that sort of thing. Today, we were out there again to finish up.

We did this last year, too, and I'm not sure it's been done at all in the interim. The difference is that this year we had temps in excess of 100 degrees. But, we got it done. I suppose that the ministers couldn't predict back in January which weekend during the summer would be the hottest-- but they may have chosen the correct one! Actually, our group was quite lucky-- we at least had shade. Some people were painting, putting up fences, and other hard labour without the benefit of trees and houses to hide behind. I haven't talked to any of them yet, though, so I don't know how it went.

Unfortunately, doing grounds keeping stuff at the Children's Home meant we didn't really get to interact with the kids, which is too bad. I chatted with a couple of boys for a few minutes about their toy guns, and that's pretty much it. I saw kids outside playing and riding their bikes, but everyone was back inside by the time we were leaving-- it was lunchtime, after all, and pretty hot.

I love seeing the kids at the Home ride their bikes. A lot of them never had a bike in their life before coming to the Home. A staple of my-- and, if all one hears is true, most of my friends'-- childhood was riding my bike, and yet these kids have missed out on that. The kids who are placed at the Children's Home are there through no fault of their own, and have had a raw deal in a lot of ways. But an upside of them being in the Home is that they get this little bit of their childhood back-- someone else is looking after them, taking care of keeping them housed & fed, and they can ride their bikes like all other kids.

Tomorrow, we have a picnic & concert to wrap up the weekend. Stay tuned to hear how it goes.

I need a Siesta after this Fiesta

Our youth group at church normally has a mission trip every summer. The past few years, they've gone to Casa de la Esperanza in Mexico, and spent the week doing hard labour and playing with the kids. Casa is a children's home, and they rely upon these visits from youth, college and other groups to get a lot of their funding and to get a lot of work done.

Problem: There is a travel advisory to Mexico, due to the violence that's been rampaging through parts of the country for the past few months. And then they had to go get Swine Flu.

So, our youth, along with many, many others, weren't able to go. On one level, that really depresses me; the Mexican people have to live there and deal with this situation all the time, but as soon as the going gets rough, the Americans back off and leave them to stand alone. It breaks my heart. On the other hand, I don't really have a solution apart from sending our kids down there regardless, and not for anything do I want one of our kids to get hurt.

But, we have a solution of sorts. Our youth group has spent a lot of time & energy on fundraisers the past couple of months, in order to make up some of the funding shortfall that Casa is looking at this year. All that fundraising cumulated in an "Ultimate Mexican Fiesta" last Sunday evening.

We had fajitas. We had tres leches cake. We had agua horchata, and some sort of mango drink. (Both of which were amazingly good.) We had a mariachi band, who were also amazingly good. I was sad when they left.

And, to cap it all off, we had a live auction of stuff actually brought from Mexico. Blankets, pottery, candy, souveniers, and other stuff along those lines were all up for grabs. Before we started, the youth minister encouraged everyone to be generous to help Casa: "I want you to leave this auction feeling like you were ripped off," he said.

And I was impressed, as ever, with the generosity to be found in the room that night. So much so that I wished that the people with deep pockets would go home so I could bid on something. The auctioneer, a member of the church, was really, really good. I don't know where he learned it, but he was brilliant.

And a lot of money was raised. I hope that those present felt some sort of solidarity with the Christians in Mexico, who are trying to serve the Lord in circumstances that we in Lubbock can't imagine. I hope that more than our money was sent south of the border last week. I hope that our hearts went along with it as well.

Breakfast

It was my turn to bring breakfast for Bible class a few weeks ago, so this is what I made...




A fruit pizza..










And a fruit salad with the leftovers. Good stuff.







I told everyone not to think of this as "health food", since it really isn't, but I don't think they believed me. But, they ate it anyway.

Training

I've meant to share this little story for a couple of weeks, but keep forgetting about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out for a 9-mile run. I was starting a bit later than usual, so I just ran in a circle around the south of Lubbock, starting & finishing at our door (pretty much). It was cloudy, and had been raining off and on for a couple of days, so I put my iPod in a plastic bag before attaching it "just in case".

I had gone about a mile when it started sprinkling. By two miles, it was sprinkling harder. And by the time I reached the 4-mile point, I was in an all-out downpour. There was no dry spot on my shirt to wipe my glasses on, so I perched them on top of my head. I gave up trying to go around puddles, and just went straight through them. I stopped praying that God would stop the rain, and started praying that he would keep my phone (which was in my pocket) from being ruined. I was wringing out my shirt as I went along, for reasons passing understanding, as it did no good whatsoever.

I came to the corner where I turn to head back toward home. There is a country club almost at the corner, with something currently under construction sitting directly south of it against the street. I normally go along the street, but this day the construction site was a mud slick. Deciding that it would be a very strange golfer indeed who was out in this weather, I cut through the golf course.

And for all that water, not one single car splashed me. Not that is mattered, because I couldn't have gotten any wetter.

Some photos for your enjoyment:

After I finished.

My poor socks. They picked up quite a bit of dirt along the way!

The iPod and phone were both none the worse for having had a soggy, 2-hour run.

Music & Fireworks

So, I've never been to an Independence day concert. In fact, I've only been to the actual "grounds" where the fireworks were being set off twice in my life-- once at the river in Evansville, and a few years ago in Lubbock. When I was growing up, my parents refused to go see the fireworks live at the high school, on the grounds that we could sit in our grandparents' front yard and see most of them.

This year, we decided to go have a look at them in person again. We went early, even though we weren't that interested in the concert, in the hopes of finding a parking space. As it was, we parked a mile away (no, seriously-- I run in that park all the time) from where we ended up sitting. But, it turned out that the concert was quite good! I didn't know either of the men who were the headliners, but they were fantastic. Of course, any concert that includes music from Hello, Dolly!, Les Miserables, The Phantom of the Opera, and Lord of the Rings is bound to be great in my book. And the Lubbock Youth Symphony Orchestra, who played all this music, was fantastic.

The fireworks were also good, and an added bonus (for me) was the live music that went along with it. The music & fireworks were timed to complement each other, and it went off almost perfectly. They started off with "Stars and Stripes Forever", always a good bet in my book, and we found out later that one of the girls from church was on the piccolo. Girl has got some skill.

The traffic going back home was pretty heavy-- after all, organisers were expecting 80,000-100,000 people, which is nearly half the population of Lubbock. The Lubbock PD were way on top of things with their traffic-directing skills, but even at that it took us 40 minutes to cover what is normally a 15-minute (if that) drive. Still, no complaints. It was fun.

In fact, since we had so much fun, I imagine we will be doing it again next year.

Break out the Strawberries & Cream

Wow. I don't think there are any words left for how I feel about that tennis match. Andy Roddick was spectacular, but in the end, Roger Federer was slightly spectacular-er. And I am so happy about that.

Six Wimbledons, one of few to win the French Open & Wimbledon in the same year, all four majors, and oh yeah, more Grand Slams (15) than anyone. Geez, this guy is amazing. And here's the kicker-- he's not done yet. Looking forward to more amazing spectacularity from him.

I had the most trouble getting to see this match-- our NBC only gets a signal sometimes (although, of course, it's coming in perfectly now that Federer v Roddick is done), so I was watching on the internet-- which got stuck when the score was 5-5. And for a couple of minutes, I had no feed on the internet and no signal on the TV. I actually laid down on the floor and was about to cry, when the Lord heard my prayer and both the TV and the internet came back at once. Thank goodness.

Also, Rafa Nadal, please get that knee well soon. It's not the same without you.

I found out something amazing!

While casually perusing the West Texas Running Club's website, I saw something unusual under the race results. I just wanted to verify my time in the 10 mile race from yesterday. Well, those results aren't on the site yet, but I saw that the results from 1978 are. Odd, I thought, but since that happens to be my year of birth, I opened them to have a look anyway.

I was so intent on looking for people I currently know in the running club, that I missed the first name of note on the list. The second, however, was unmissable: George W. Bush. Age: 31. Hometown: Midland, TX. Time: 20:11. (Not a bad time at all for a 3-mile race!) And just as my brain was still stuttering "Wait-- is that-- ?" I saw that someone had marked this particular line with three arrows. That's who I was supposed to see.

And I glanced back up to to the top, and noticed another marked name: Willie McCool. Age: 16. Hometown: Lubbock, TX. Time: 16:02. (Holy smokes!) This, obviously, was before he joined the Navy, before he learned to fly, and long before his last mission ended in tragedy on February 1, 2003. This name is, for me, a lot more exciting, only because he is a lot closer to my life. He lived in this city for a few years. I train at the Willie McCool Track & Field at Coronado High School. I drive by his monument in Huneke Park. I was standing in front of Coronado mere hours after he died as his classmates laid flowers by the school sign & hung up a banner in tribute to him.

On July 4, 1978, these two remarkable men, along with 65 others, ran a 3-mile race in celebration of Independence day. Another day, another race for the WTRC. It is remarkable that they may have seen one another-- it is an out-and-back course, and Willie, as the faster runner, would have reached the turnaround first. Did either of them even glance up to see the other one? Since we can't see the future, I suppose it didn't enter into either's wildest dreams that not quite 25 short years after that Independence Day run, Mr. Bush would be the president, presiding at Mr. McCool's memorial service.

Yesterday, 31 years later, I ran in the same race, for the same reason, on those same roads. Because I am a runner, as is Mr. Bush. As was Mr. McCool. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Fourth on Broadway

I haven't been to our downtown 4th of July street festival for years-- not since the first summer I lived here, really. So, this year we decided to go, after getting refreshed from the race and having lunch so we wouldn't spend a fortune on street fair food.

Yeah. The street fair was almost ALL food. And a couple of mobile phone dealers, and a PSA about the census next year. It's not like we were going to forget, but the man gave us a couple of fridge magnets & pencils just in case.

There were a lot of entertainment tents, but none of them were entertaining enough for us to want to stop. So in the future, I suppose we will plan our downtown jaunts around when people we know will be performing.

There was a parade, too, but we missed it what with our running races and whatnot. Ach, well. Next up: Fireworks.

Let Firecrackers Run

Yep, "Firecracker Run" was the name of the race today. What? I didn't name it!

Yeah, so for the second hit year in a row, Chad & I got lost on our way to the race. This year, we got more lost than last year. I didn't know that was possible.

I was all lined up at the start, and realised that I didn't have any sunscreen on. Oops! Far too late to do anything about it at that point, so I just didn't worry about it. We took off, and I was calling myself all kinds of crazy for signing up for the 10 mile for the first couple of miles. But, I got all settled into my stride, remembered to take walk breaks at each mile, and more or less focused on enjoying my run. And wondering what Chad was doing; he volunteered today, and he drove past me a couple of times. Apparently, he was delivering supplies to the aid stations.

So, not long past mile 3 (for me), I noticed someone up ahead that I hadn't seen before. For a moment, I wondered if that was the leader of the race coming back already, then I thought, "No, it can't be," then I saw that it was. Sheesh. Also, wow! Was he ever moving fast. (It turned out that he wasn't quite going twice as fast as me. I'll take it.)

It's my intention for the next couple of months to experiment with the various sports gels & carb replacements available to see what I like & what works for me. These past two weeks, I've used fruit leather; cheap, simple, and pretty well tasty. (The jury is still out on effective.) I was feeling a bit silly taking some along with me today, until I saw how many of the front-of-the-pack people had their PowerBar gels & other fancy stuff. So, I ate my fruit leather. It was so hot out that when I took it out at mile 5, there was condensation on the inside of the package. Yikes.

The sun came out from behind a cloud at mile 8, and that's when I found out how hot it was. That is, very hot. It stayed out for the remainder of the race (about 22 more minutes), but my back was to the sun for most of that time, so it wasn't too bad.

As ever, I was grateful to the encouragement shouters, aid station workers, and all-around fun people gathered near the finish to cheer in the stragglers. Since it was my first 10-mile race, I couldn't help but PR (gotta love the first race at a new distance), and since there were only 3 people in my age group, I couldn't help but get a medal, either. Brilliant!

Going to the dogs

As a running, walking, and cycling enthusiaist, I see a lot of dogs. A lot. Big dogs, small dogs, friendly dogs, dogs that would like to have my leg for a snack, dogs that have tried to have my leg for a snack. All sorts of dogs.

On my ride to work, I pass a dog that I think would eat me if given the chance. There is a gap in his fence that is the right size for his face to fit into; as a result, all I've seen of this dog is his nose & teeth. And every now and then, one manic eye. It's possible that this is the friendliest dog in Lubbock and he just wants to play, but somehow he gives me the opposite impression.

On my ride from work, I pass a yard with a chain-link fence, so I've had a good look at both of the dogs who would deafen me, if given the chance. At first, they would jump up and run to the fence barking at me; then, they would jump up and walk to the fence with just a bark or two; then they would just stand up. Lately, they've not even done that. I thought they were getting used to me, but one day when I walked by, they jumped up, ran to the fence, and tried to make me deaf with barking again. So, I suppose it's the bike they recognise.

And there are these itty bitty dogs, just a couple of blocks away from the high-volume dogs, that sometimes get out of their yard and try to chase me. They aren't big enough to even register as a bump if one of them were to jump in front of me, and yet they will chase me for a whole block, yipping away as I tell them to go home.

And my favourites... there are some dogs on one of my running routes that I just love. They used to bark at me, but now they barely glance up when I run by. I don't know dog breeds, but I would guess these dogs are beagles, only because they kind of look like Snoopy. They are really cute, and really friendly, and will run along the fence with me if they are already up. I love seeing them.

Moral of the story: I don't have a moral. Or a dog.

The Williams sisters are amazing

Yep. I'm still talking about tennis. Wimbledon ends on Sunday; you need only bear it for a few more days.

So, Serena's match was a nail-biter-- I didn't see a lot of it, but what I saw had me glued to the TV, afraid to look away because I might miss something. I saw the last three games, though, and did so much shrieking with joy and jumping up & down that one of my coworkers asked, "Are you okay?" There was a moment when her opponent was up 5-4, and had the advantage, that I thought Serena was going home early-- but, no. She pulled it back, won three games in a row, and left the crowd with quite a lot to talk about during their tea break.

Venus' match was a lot less interesting; she dominated from start to finish. Safina (the world #1, by the way) was way outmatched. To be fair, she didn't really seem to bring her "A" game today (or her "B" game, and perhaps not her "C" game), but for her to only get 1 game out of 13 is crazy. Yeah, I'd say grass is not her favourite surface. But that was a short match; I only saw 30 minutes, and that was the match half done! Crazy!

So, brilliant match coming on Saturday morning. Yay! In the meantime, there is Federer v Hass and Murray v Roddick (also known as Andy v Andy) for me to sneak away from work to watch tomorrow.

Kicking the habit

And by that I mean, kicking the habit back on. Yep, my blog has a kick-starter. Doesn't yours?

So, what with brevity being the soul of both wit and Twitter, I've gotten out of the habit to blogging. To get back into it, I've set a goal to blog every day for the month of July. Get ready to read some drivel.

And to start off, let's talk about the match with my good pal Roger Federer today. First of all, he's just too good, isn't he? I tuned in during the third set, and would have enjoyed a fourth, but no, Roger had to go win. And at the end, I noticed that he seems to have shrunken in the wash. Perhaps it was the rain at the French Open final? The man he was playing was quite a bit taller than he. So, I googled Mr. Karlovic to discover that he is 6'10" tall. Mystery solved, new mystery started; how could someone that tall, presumably with matching arms, ever lose a tennis match?

Also, everything went my way at Wimbledon today... except for Novak Djokovic. He was supposed to win. He was supposed to play Federer Friday. Now it'll be Tommy Haas instead. Can't have everything, though, and at least we get an Andy v Andy match Friday. (Murray v Roddick, that is... let's go Murray!)

No, seriously, it was scary.

This morning, that song "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" came up on my iPod. In the midst of the varied advice, the man says, "Do one thing every day that scares you."

So, I did: I tried riding my bike with no hands on the way home.

Now, I've been working on this little skill off and on (a few seconds at a time) for a couple of months. Today, I tried the whole of the one street that I ride on that isn't busy, which amounts to about six blocks. I think the best I did was nearly a whole block before having to grab the handlebars and adjust. Which, given my natural senses of balance, grace and coordination, is nothing short of miraculous.

I'm not sure why it has taken me so long to pick up on this; my cousins could do it, my friends could do it, my husband does it very well (neighbourhood kids stop what they are doing and stare in awe when he rides by), but I've never been able to. Until now.

I'll keep practising-- but now I have to find a new thing that scares me to do tomorrow. Perhaps I'll stare down a spider.

Less than stellar, alas.

I started the year off with three fantastic races (5 mile, 1/2 marathon, 10K), followed by two that were, um, less fantastic.

But that's okay.

I really, really wanted a PR today. I have been looking forward to this race for about six months, with the hopes of getting my time down to 1:02:00 (that's a 10-minute per-mile pace). The past few days, I had eased up a bit and decided I would be just as happy with 1:02:30, which is about 20 seconds faster than my current PR.

I finished in 1:03:45. Or, about one minute slower than my current PR. Bummer.

So, after a few tears at the finish line (that's become a recurring theme for me, anyway) and a growl for anyone who dared asked me if I met my goal (sorry about that!), I have recovered. We have at least two more 10Ks before the year is out. Plenty of time to hit that magical 10-minute pace that I've been looking for.

So, on Monday, it's back to work.

French Open Glory

I love tennis. A lot. I can't play, of course, because that would require hand-eye coordination, but I love to watch other people play. Especially when those people play really, really well.

I would have loved another Federer v Nadal final. I'm still not tired of watching those two play each other. But I found that I could equally well love a Federer v anyone final. And I had my eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a moment. I was standing in the middle of my living room for the last game, to better facilitate the exuberant jumping that occurs when Roger Federer wins things.

Part of my love for tennis comes from the moment common to all sports: the reaction of the winner. I loved when Roger fell to the ground in tears after winning his fifth Wimbledon. Even better (if there is such a thing) was Rafa climbing into the stands to embrace his parents after winning his first Wimbledon. And today, Roger screamed as he fell to his knees, rejoicing in the moment, before hitting a ball into the stands. I love the reaction.

And I'll probably be smiling all week. Can't wait for Wimbledon. Also, before next year, I must learn French.

Please click here...

... to have a look at Beth's blog and the cause she is championing. Pretty good cause, I'd say. And, you get a chance to win some pretty yarn.

In the middle of our street

So we went for a walk Sunday afternoon.

It was, as most (all) of our walks are, for a purpose; we needed laundry detergent. So, out the door we went. I was struck, for the umpteenth time, by how much of my neighbourhood I miss by driving. There are geese in just about every yard (not the mad geese, by the way; these seem to be more docile) around the park, which provides many opportunities for amusement, although possibly not for the homeowners. I saw a couple of pretty angel statues in the yard on the corner for the first time; I've driven past there hundreds of times and never seen them.

And to get to the store, we went through two different church parking lots just as everyone was leaving. Two different denominations, two different groups of people, don't know us from any other John or Jane (or Chad or Susan) they might see, and do you know what happened? Everyone who we got near to smiled and said hello.

I fail to see the advantage in driving.