There is no "I" in "TEAM"

... of course there's an "EA" in both Team and Leah, so that's something....


Monday I had a FANTABULOUS mail day.  I received, along with the general junk mail, a package from my dad with some CD's and a book, my current issue of Cooks Illustrated (think Consumer Reports meets Joy of Cooking), a part of a preset for someone, a super Valentine from Shorty (send you a pic of the tat when I use it :-)  ), and a large package from Running Banana delivered at work.

TEAM ROBERT SHIRTS!!!!

This year My Runner and I went back and forth about "expanding" Team Robert.  TR was formed long before I was in the picture and included My Runner's Pops, who was his inspiration for Ultra Running, his half-siblings, and Puma.  I was happy when the team expanded to include me, and even happier when it expanded to include people we run/hike/snowshoe/spend time with.  A night with My Runner, Puma, and I resulted in the following message going out to those we thought might be interested:

Team Robert started as a family team.  In Josh's (and so many of our) words, "Friends are the family that you choose."  When you spend hours on the trail with someone, they know you on a deep level.  When you train with people weekend after weekend, they see the good and bad.  We've been through a lot together, on and off the trail, and we're all family: a team.  We're planning on many outdoor events together, and it would be great to have support of a team even when we're not close to each other.

I'd been a part of Team Robert.  I'd supported and taken part in Team Sherpa.  I'd been on the Patriot Team with my Dad and his buddy in the VT50.  We'd even started Hillsboro Trail Runners to have a group of like-minded folks be outside with us.  We had lofty ideas of posting events in the paper and in town... but the reality is that it's important to me to recognize the people with whom I spend mile after mile, hour after hour, trudging, trotting, jogging, running, hiking, snow shoeing, drinking, eating with.  The people that inspire me to get out there, and that I hope I can inspire back.  The people that hear me bitching but love me anyways, even if it is with an eye roll.  The people who understand that outside, with all it's "discomforts," is the place to be.

So, Team Robert initiated it's 2nd Generation t-shirts.  That's not to say if there's no shirt one isn't on the team, oh no... the Team is truely MORE than the sum of it's parts.  But this is the first step, I think, into what is important to us all.  "Friends are the family that you choose."  I love my family and have been blessed to be related to people that I would choose to hang out with.  I've ALSO been blessed with the understanding that friends ARE family, and we've always treated them as such.  My own mother often asks when we can get together with Smarty and Face, some of my closest friends and only two of many that my mother considers family.  Team Robert is a continuation of that sentiment, and one I'm more than happy to perpetuate.

One of the fun things we could incorporate with the Gen II shirts is personalized logos.

Believe it or not, it was not I who thought of the Ferret for my logo.  But as My Runner writes, it fits:

Common characteristics of the ferret are; curious, persistent, and fearless. All makes perfect sense to me. Leah's fearless hockey playing is what attracted me to her in the first place. Her curiosity is what got her into running with me, and if you read her blog she's very persistent in her research amongst other things. A once non-runner "unless being chased" is really coming into her own finishing a half marathon on the roads and in the woods in 2010.

So, that's me, on the Team.  I'm already excited with what other folks are doing with this idea: Taps is looking into utilizing the team to fundraise for Autism, a cause close to his girlfriend Wick's heart.  I'm hoping to get the team to run at this year's ARL 5K (organized by Face this year!!!).  I'm looking forward to showing up to events as a group and having folks ask us about our shirts- maybe even inspire others to form their own teams.  I like that we make plans to be outdoors together, encourage each other to train, and support each other when we need it.

Wholly Dazed

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from your friendly Hallmark Christian*!!

This holiday season has been filled with family, friends, and finally in the North East, SNOW!!!

My Runner and I broke out the snowshoes this past Monday to give them a whirl.  I huffed and puffed through the 2-ish miles in the woods.  We were (ok, mostly he was) breaking trail.  The wind was still gusting a lot and the trees creaked and cracked above us.    It was great!

Pops came up for Christmas as usual and came up (pre-snow) to My Runner's house and for a trail run in the woods.  I spent some time with my Grammy, Great Aunt, and Aunt for lunch on Christmas Day, and was able to put in a significant visit to my mother's large family for dinner.  Back to work for a few days this week, but it's nice and quiet with most people on vacation.

My Runner has put together a few posts of a year in review, along with a spectacular slideshow.  It's inspired me to actually take some time to look back on my year, highlight the high points, ruminate on the lessons learned, and set goals for the new year.  I'll do this throughout the month of January and over several posts.

I've also been putting off research for the next car on my list: the Ford Fiesta.  A cursory search says it's a good car that's well reviewed, but my brand perception of Ford is giving me researchers-block.  I might just skip it for now and head on down to the Nissan Versa & Cube....

If you're at work, I hope I've sufficiently distracted you for a few minutes (and playing on JibJab is totally fun).  If you're on vacation, get off this damned machine and go play!!

*Hallmark Christianity is a phrase I created to describe those that have a Christian heritage, and maybe were baptized once upon a time, but NEVER go to church- not even at Christmas or Easter.  These folks DO celebrate Christmas and to a certain extent Easter, but in the most superficial and consumer-based way, embodied by the Hallmark Greeting Card.  

A Year in Races (For Thanksgiving)

This was meant to be posted on Thanksgiving, but it was a full day of visiting My Runner's family in VT.  
 
Thanksgiving 2010 marks one full year since my very first official race. I took some time to look back on the year, the races, and the memories (briefly) for each run.

11/26/09- Feaster Five Road Race
5K, 31m18s
HUGE race- over 10,000 people there.  I ran with Pocket (a bit- she ran the 5mi option), and got PIE!

12/12/09- Beaver Brook Winter 5K(ish)
4.5K, 27m34s
Pocket dropped giving My Runner her number, snow covered the trails, first time I thought I would puke from running.  Also my first "official" race with My Runner.

2/14/10- Frozen Shamrock (Wild Rover Race 1)
3mi, 27m45s
First solo race, first run after undergoing PT for my hip overuse injury. Thought I would die when ipod ran out of batteries, finished smiling instead, got BEER!

2/27/10- Cladagh Pub (Wild Rover Race 2)
4mi, 39m10.5s
First run with Dad! My Runner was there too- was an unseasonably warm and sunny day (ran in a t-shirt) for Feb, got BEER! Got more beer and lunch at Murph's while My Runner got to know my Pops.

3/14/10- Hynes Tavern (Wild Rover Race 3)
5mi, 49m5.5s
Ran fighting rain and St. Patty's day hangover. Too cold, damp, and tired to stay for beer.  Set a mileage marker with this race.

3/20/10- Shamrock 8K (Dolphin Challenge 1)
8K, 51m50s
In VA beech with Pocket and My Runner. Gorgeous day, fun run, got FOUR BEERS before being coerced into more drinks at a boardwalk bar.  Gin Bloody Marys are pretty awesome.

3/21/10- Shamrock Half Marathon (Dolphin Challenge 2)
13.1mi, 2h30m34s
Longest distance run ever (had only run 6 and change).  Ran with a Bloody Mary most of the way. Took photo at mile 7 to commemorate the distance breaking point. Shared post-race beers w/ My Runner (who ran the marathon) on the beach.

4/18/10- Muddy Moose
4mi, 41m49s
First run after (initial) ankle injury (hockey). Not kidding with "Muddy"- still get dirty feet when I wear those sneakers. Some of my favorite run pics come from this race.

5/29/10- Pineland Farms 5K (Trail Running Festival)
5K, 34m38s
First run after secondary ankle injury (EMS trail fun run). Felt horrible- almost every step a struggle. Beer at the end helped a bit... at least the weather was nice?

5/30/10- Pineland Farms 25K (Trail Running Festival)
25K, 3h:43m:10s
Ran with the Strongs for almost four hours- they became true family in that time. This race is my distance record to date.

7/4/10- Clarence Demar 5K (GMAA)
5K, 29m52s
Super hot run in South Hero VT with My Runner's Pops and Lil Bro. Still feeling super out of shape, but set a 5K PR.

7/9/10- Hillsboro Balloon Fest
5K, 34m09s
After a pre-race browse down the midway, shared these miles with Puma as MC ran in her first official race and My Runner encouraged her husband GC along.

8/22/10- Moose on the Loose, Relay (Team Thespians)
10mi (2.5 mi), 1h34m30s
First relay, first race after re-re-injury of the stoopid ankle. G. ran 1st loop, Pocket ran 2&3, I finished 4th loop. Celebrated the 1 year anniversary of Pocket's first official race.

9/26/10- VT 50, Relay (Team Patriot)
50mi (12.3mi), 9h30m22s (2h20m)
Team with Dad & friend Ed, shared my 12mi leg with My Runner and Gilly, as well as pacing My Runner through (most of) the last 3 miles.  This race was more of a challenge to prep than to run- too much pressure on myself.

10/10/10- Harpoon Oktoberfest Road Race
3.6mi. 32m34.5s
Big group this year, with the Strongs, My Runner, Puma, the C's and more.  Enjoyed many, many Harpoon beverages on tap during the Oktoberfest party after the run.

10/16/10 - My Dogs Are Barkin' 5K (Animal Rescue League of NH)
3.4mi, 29m 47s
A fund-raiser for the Bedford Animal Rescue League, Face (who's on the board of the ARL) volunteered for the event and got to see me into the finish line.  This was the ARL's first 5K and they landed more than 300 entrants- pretty darn good!  Also, there were LOTS of cute doggies.  :-)

11/25/10 - (VT Turkey Trot)
5K fun run, 30m 8s
This run is a true family fun-run, with no numbers and no perks.  Families are $10 to register.  My Runner and his dad have been doing this run for longer than he remembers and it was great to be a Team Robert member this year. 

Here's to many more runs and many more adventures.  I'm thankful for my family, my friends, and the fact that most of the people I know fit into both categories.  Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone.

VT 50, 2010: Run with Love

Sometimes I put too much pressure on myself. It's in my nature. I was training to run 13 miles in the mountains of VT. Not JUST run it, but run it in time for two other people, one of them my DAD, to run 37 miles within a cutoff time so our team wouldn't be disqualified. This was the first race where the finishing time mattered. And it was killing me. I was psyched to be on a team with dad, but half my training runs would involve me breaking down at some point when it was super hard (we're talking 2-4 mile runs here) and sobbing, knowing in my heart that I'd fail.

This same self-pressure followed me all the way to Vermont. Heading to Mt. Ascutney to pick up our race packets, the foliage was gorgeous, the sun was shining through the clouds, and I started crying. The mountains were so high... I'd have to run those... I was cracking under pressure- with all the beauty around me my face was leaking with worry. And I wasn't the only one.

The VT 50 run- it's about family. I crewed My Runner at the VT 50 last year with his Pops. VT 50 is the first ultra My Runner ever did- at the urging of his Pops. 2010 is his 11th year here. Puma had run the 50k twice and was trying for her very first 50 miler. My Runner and Sherpa shared miles here, and Sherpa was here today for what is possibly his final VT run before he and his lovely wife move West.

At Long Trail Brewery, post- first-freakout cry, pre- second.

Pops couldn't make it this year. Depending on the moment it was disappointing and devastating. I was really hoping Pops could meet my Dad and Sherpa and Puma and everyone- we could all share some time. Lil' Bro was supposed to come with Pops, running in a leg of the relay.

As My Runner, Puma, my Dad, his buddy Ed (Dad and Ed and I making up Team Patriot) gathered in the dimly lit tent in the pre-dawn hours on race day, I realized that no matter who was THERE, this race is about family. We run into Sandel and say our hi's, and GillyGirl, who was pulled at mile 47 last year and is back for her vengeance. People who have run with Pops come up to us, recognizing My Runner and tell stories of his Pops. My Dad and I stand around sharing nervous energy. We chat with others who have notable race shirts on. Trail runners- Ultra runners- it's one big, extended family. My mood lightens and it's time to line up at the start.

The Larch.  The.... Larch. 

Nah... it's a Maple.  Or maybe an Oak? Eh.  Lookit the pretty leaves!!

I line up with My Runner, Puma, Sherpa, and GillyGirl. We're all hopping about in the blue light before the sun breaks over the horizon. Nervous, excited, ready to go- runners always remind me of horses pawing the ground. You'd think, from TV or something, there'd be some sort of grand send off- a starter gun or a buzzer or something. Nope. Out here in VT it's just some guy shouting "Go!" "Go?" "Did he say go?" "Are we going?" "Yeah! Go!" and we're off.

Puma's running a full 50 miles. I was hoping to share a few of the first miles with her, but she's conserving and she's back a bit not long after the start. I share the first few miles with Sherpa, GillyGirl, and My Runner, chatting, sharing dirty jokes, and belching up breakfast (blueberry bagel with peanut butter anc chocolate Boost... not so good on the way up as the way down...). One thing trail and long-distance runners have above road-runners is the ability to really share the miles- chatting eases the burden of time and lightens the load. I mean, when you're out there for 12ish hours, you gotta talk to SOMEONE, right?

Sherpa runs on ahead. GillyGirl is a bit ahead, but I keep her red skirt in sight on the straight-aways. My Runner hangs back to urge me on. It's hard, but I'm going. The concern of the last few months is gone- too late to worry now. The fastest way out is to finish my 12.3 mile leg. I chat with some others around me. Met a guy from Virginia up in New England for the first time running. A woman who has been leap frogging with me has run this leg of the relay before with a team from work- she's probably 10 years older and 70 lbs heavier, but she's keeping up with me, if not passing me, a lot. I admire her and vow to train my ASS off... sooon... My Runner waits for me every now and then, giving great encouragement and advice.

In a moment of mouth-diarrhia the previous day, I noted that Vermont was a "bumpy" state. On race day, I got to know just HOW bumpy. The hills were HARD- even though I was fast-hiking up them rather than running. Still, looking at my watch I was making great time- getting into aid stations before the time that would mark a 12-minute mile (my super-goal; my realistic goal was 14-minute miles). I was about 3-2 miles from the end of my leg when I started cramping up in my torso on the downhills. I think I was tensing so I wouldn't fall and hurt my ankle again, but man it made breathing hard. I ended up walking a great flat running stretch just to let the cramps subside.

GillyGirl and me heading up one of VT's "bumps"

I got into Skunk Hollow (the 12.3 mile aid station) having done 11:40-ish minute miles. As I came in I saw my Dad, raised my arms up high, and shouted with joy. Seeing his big smile as he snapped a photo was awesome! His leg was next, so I grabbed his jacket and camera, we hugged and high-fived, and he was off. My Runner had grabbed some food and water and was ready to get back out for the rest of his 50 miles, so I gave him a quick kiss and sent him on his way.

Me and My Runner heading into Skunk Hollow.

Please don't sue me.  I'd pay for this photo if I wasn't touching my boob by accident.

Team Patriot had a great day. My Dad achieved his goal time for his leg of 19ish miles. He was thoroughly back in love with New England as he finished his leg. The spectacular views from the course and the almost peak foliage combined with a cool clear day would have made ANYONE fall in love with New England. Ed was our ace-in-the-hole, though, passing something like 5-7 relay team runners in his 18 mile leg. I'm a little sad I didn't get to see him finish, but My Runner had asked me to run him in the last 3 miles.

oooOOoooo.... purdy....

As I reunite with My Runner he's thinking he can hit a PR. I'm happy and proud of him. We head up the back of Mt. Ascutney to some truly beautiful trail, and My Runner, who's just run 47 miles, is KICKING MY ASS. I do my best to keep up and not slow him down. He seems happy for the company and wants the time to keep him going. We chat, I pant on the uphills and recover on the downs. We pass a LOT of people- he's shifting into gear.

I feel the downhill cramping but fight through it. As we emerge onto the ski slopes and start doing the backs and forths, My Runner asks, "Is that Sherpa ahead?" I grunt agreement (cramping) and he plans to sneak up and pass him- the finish is about half a mile away. Though I can't see his face, I know all too well the impish (ok, shit-eating) grin on his face... as Sherpa turns shocked to see My Runner there. Smelling blood he kicks it in and zooms down the slope. I know I can't follow at even a respectable speed so I duck out of the course and go straight down the hill, meeting up with My Runner, my Dad, and Ed in the tent near the finish.

My Runner smelling blood.  He's ready to kick some ASS!

 

I managed a smile for this one.

I've reunited with my team. There's a lot of family here, as Mr. and Mrs. Strong have come to watch people finish. Puma's here, having run strong 31 miles before missing a cutoff and being pulled. She seems a bit disappointed, but more so determined to do better next time. We head back to the cars and Dad breaks out some beer for us all to share while we catch up on our experiences and wait for GillyGirl to finish.

In the parking lot sharing some beers I could see how well I really did- and how much I stressed unnecessarily over this run. It drove me forward in my training but I directed energy to worry rather than to powering my body and readying my mind.

VT 50 was WAY outside my comfort zone. But my family had my back. They always had. And while I knew, I didn't really KNOW. Like doing a trust falls, I just had to relax and know that no matter what happened, win or loose, "fail" or not fail, they've got me. I'll never truly fail as long as I keep the love.

Back to Basics

In an attempt to simplify life in several different ways, I'm working to get back to basics.

First, financially. I explored several different cuts in my spending, and the big ones included insurance (thanks My Runner for insurancesavers.com out of Littleton that saved me, seriously, $600/year on the SAME coverage), cable/internet (downgrading to the "economy" internet isn't a big deal when you computer could have a high school reunion coming up), and a change in my tax withholding (no way I owe $10K/year at this point). The long term plan of a combination of saving and paying off debt should be a little easier with some extra change every month.

Smarty is home from school for a few weeks, and there's pretty much nothing I would rather do than spend time with her. And it's highlighted how much I don't MAKE time to spend with people I love. That time is being made, with much delight. Including, but not limited to, a fantabulous girls night this Friday, a baby shower (which was NOT the worst, honestly) and a party hosted by My Runner in which my buddies came up and had a glorious time. Mop even melted a glass beer bottle in the fire pit. I think that experience made the whole night for him. :-)

I'm starting to mount things on the walls of my apartment. Yes, I moved in April... I know I'm decoration-tarded. It's a slow process, and I've already had to fill several holes I incorrectly drilled... but it make my place so much more HOME. I've been going through printed pictures from my "early years" (ie, before digital photography... yes, Virginia, printed photos do exist) and reminiscing. It's a tough choice, what to honor with a place on my wall. Once I get started I might not want to stop...

Face has been working a pretty-much opposite schedule from me, and that's made face-to-Face time difficult. We've got a girls night planned for Friday, and it's pretty much the highlight of my week. Schools coming back, so work has been a bear. I worked a 12-hour day (voluntarily) today, and more are on the horizon, so I'm very much looking forward to some super-friend time at the tail-end of the week.

Also going to a concert with the runner, and possibly with the Strongs, who just finished their Long Trail journey this past week. Great Big Sea is a band brought to my attention by My Runner that I instantly liked. Folky-Irish-y without being the cloying "Irish" band. Not quite "Shipping off to Boston" but not "we make sweaters and our town drunks are hilariously goofy." They're actually from Canada, so more like New England without the "southern" immigrants from NY, MA, and CT. ;-)

So, it's back to the basics of what I love about life: my people. And there's a lot of people to love. I'm so blessed.

MMT 100- Crew Report

Entrance to Caroline Furnace Camp

We arrived at Caroline Furnace Camp in Fort Valley, VA in time for the pre-race meeting. The race director reiterates all the important stuff from the website and points out important people. The runners grab their race packets, we get some grub and set up camp. It's 8pm by the time we roll into our sleeping bags, but since the alarm went off at 3am, we're ready for bed. My very chivalrous Runner gives me the sleeping pad- I feel like a wimp accepting, but he won't take no for an answer. Only later do I realize he knows he's not going to get any sleep anyways: his mind already running the miles ahead.

The alarm goes off at 4am, giving us enough time to put on clothes and eat breakfast before the start of the race at 5am. My Runner and Ultra Dad pose for a few photos, line up with the other 180 runners, and with a shout, they're off. We had briefly gone over the plan the night before, and someone had mentioned it would be 9am before they arrived at the first Aid Station (AS) with crew access, Edinburg Gap. 4 hours to go 11 miles seemed a little slow, but perhaps they knew something about the terrain that I didn't. Kiddo and I head back to camp to catch some z's. We planned to arrive around 8-ish so we would have time to get a good spot but not have to wait too long.

Kiddo and I got to Edinburg Gap at 8:15am. There were about 7 people standing around. We unloaded the Binto Bar (a pack the size of a Rubbermaid tote), the camp chair and the cooler, and settled in. Someone asks if the last runner has come through yet... oh shit... CREW FAIL! Checking with the volunteer in charge of timing, I find we missed them by mere minutes. I try to keep my voracious swearing under my breath, but I'm beating myself up. My one responsibility and I fail at it. I'll be damned if I miss them at another AS.

My Runner and Ultra Dad coming in to Edinburg Gap.  Thanks random photog for catching my missed moment.

The next AS we could be at was mile 32, Elizabeth Furnace. I estimated a 10-minute mile, knowing that even feeling good they wouldn't go faster than 12-minute miles. But the sun was shining, the air was warm, and I would rather be way early than miss them AGAIN. I had no idea what they might have needed at the first AS that I wasn't there to provide- blister prevention, Gu, sun screen, bug spray... The stations were well stocked with food, water, and Gatorade, so I knew they wouldn't be hungry or thirsty. I didn't know if My Runner would be fuming that I wasn't there or worried that something happened to us. (The second. He's a nice guy. I was fuming at myself.)

Crewing is a "hurry up and wait" activity. We got to Elizabeth Furnace about 3 hours before the guys showed up. I put on sun screen, moved the stuff closer and closer to where the runners come in, chatted with folks, and generally hopped around anxiously. Kiddo did his best to amuse himself without phone or internet, which was kind of a stretch for him. He IS thirteen after all.

Temps were high and the guys were wilting as they came in. Food, water, sun screen, cold Boost and iced tea, refill on Gu, and a bit of a rest. Kissed My Runner and they were off. Not long before we'd see them again- 5 miles later at Shawl Gap. Of course in those 5 miles they'd be going 1000 feet up, AND 1000 feet down.

Check the elevation change between #5 and #6.

I'm telling you, this terrain was beautiful, but RUGGED. Ever driven on the Kancamagus Highway in NH through the Whites? Yeah, something like that. I mean, I've run 5 miles under an hour, but that was in friggin' Lowell. These 5 miles took two experienced and strong runners just under 2 hours to tackle. Ultra Dad came in strong, but My Runner was downtrodden. I shared words of encouragement from Sherpa, who had called when I miraculously had service. They were in and out at Shawl Gap and ready to move on. Good thing- as much as I love hanging out with my honey, time at an AS is time wasted.

After a not-so-brief trip to Wal Mart where Kiddo and I ostensibly picked up supplies for our runners, but really were just killing time and grabbing dinner, we headed to Habron Gap, mile 53. The scenery on the drives was breathtaking. The sun was setting and the guys hadn't taken headlamps with them. Too heavy to carry 20 miles, but useful to, you know, see when it's dark. The runners come in to Habron on a wide gravel road, so at least it was a safe(ish) place to not be able to see your footing. My Runner came in feeling pretty good sometime between 8 and 9pm, having gotten a second (or third, or thirtieth) wind now that the temps dropped with the night. He asked how close to the cut-off he was (each aid station will pull runners if they arrive after a certain time), and I tell him he's got a bit more than 2 hours. The Reaper is chasing them, but not too closely.

He was about 10 minutes ahead of Ultra Dad, who came in dragging. Kiddo was psyched up because Ultra Dad had been talking about him pacing the guys, ie, stepping in and running some miles with them; a true Team Robert.  Kiddo's not a runner, but he does bike and swim competitively, and I think getting the chance to "help" on this run really inspired him.

But Ultra Dad was done. He had dehydrated, and that messed up his feet and his back (so many crazy things happen as a result of dehydration in these endurance sports...) I could see in his posture he had given up. Finally My Runner had to head out- he had stayed way too long. Kiddo pleaded, whined, goaded, enticed, I even through a few carrots up for him, but to no avail. Ultra Dad was done at 53.6 miles.

I knew this could be tough on My Runner mentally and emotionally. He started running Ultras BECAUSE of his dad. They were a team.  I'd get to break the news to him in 10 miles at Camp Roosevelt, by which time he had already guessed.

We're now well after midnight, and I'm bushed. I haven't even run today, but hauling gear to and from the truck, anxiously awaiting the runners, listening to a 13-year-old prattle on about energy drinks and video games... it's enough to tranquilize a horse. I gave Ultra Dad some time to pull himself together after running 53 miles, we drop another runner off at the start/finish whose blisters have taken him out of the race, and head to the next AS. I help the guys setup at the AS and take 20 minutes to snooze in the camp chair before beginning my AS ritual of restlessly pacing around. My Runner is in pain. He's gone through all his water, he's got a rash, he's tired. I give him what his body needs, then I try to give him what his spirit needs. Rubbing his back I encourage him to go on. Kiddo is ready to pace My Runner, and I think that helps seal the deal; he's ready to keep moving. Gap Creek is only 5 miles away, but just like the other short leg, it's a CLIMB. 1450 ft up, 1000 ft down.

Gap Creek is the most festive AS I've seen. Christmas lights line the trails. Acoustic covers of well known songs are playing. The station is serving pancakes, bacon, and eggs along with other standard AS fare. There's a fire pit where folks have gathered around, dozing. Runners sleepily clamber in, for it's now just before 4am; they've been at it for almost 23 hours. The course comes through here twice: once at 68.7 miles, and again at 95.4. We see some of the leaders coming in for their second round- these folks might still make 100 miles under 24 hours. There's a cot near the tents where runners can catch a quick nap- might be all they need to regain the strength to keep coming.

Ultra Dad and I pass some time chatting, but soon we're both nervously waiting at the trail head where the 68 milers are coming in. We can watch the headlamps of the runners as they descend the incline into the AS. They're so high up they look like fireflies in the sky. As My Runner and Kiddo come in around 4:20am, I can hear Kiddo yakking away. I pity My poor Runner and hope Kiddo has been more of a help than a hindrance. As he comes in, he asks how close he is to cutoff. "One hour," I told him, and I watched him deflate. Without admitting it, without him saying a word, without him consciously making a decision, I could see he was done. He took time before admitting what his body had already decided. Doing the math over and over in his head, factoring in the pain he was in, he realized there was no way he'd make the finish before the 36 hour cutoff. He relinquished his number to the AS volunteer, signaling his official dropout. 68.7 miles in exactly 24 hours.

Some runners view a DNF (Did Not Finish) as a black mark, a scourge. Some see it as a challenge to try again next year. I think My Runner is at peace with his decision. I'm proud of him for the hard miles he ran. The man barely trained, was (unknowingly) battling a chest cold, and ran for 24 hours, 68.7 rugged-ass miles.

I've written before about my love of crewing, and this race was no different.  I wish I hadn't missed the first AS, but luckily the guys weren't in much need and if there were any to miss, it was that one.  Hopefully I made up for it by being as prepared as possible with fuel for their bodies and their hearts.  Having to focus so intensely on someone else's needs is oddly freeing, almost meditative.  I'm able to push my own issues aside and trivialize my personal traumas, leaving room for a kind of calmness. I wonder if this is how my mother feels when she's nursing...

The Finisher's Belt Buckle

My Runner and I talked about next year on the ride home.  Would he come back for another attempt?  Would Ultra Dad?  What does he want from Massanutten?  A finisher's buckle?  Time with his father?  These questions are still unanswered, but My Runner did quote, "The will to finish means nothing without the will to train."

What a Maroon!

On a dinner date with my Mom, Mr. Fixit, and my aunt and uncle last night, my uncle showed me this little gem he pulled off a tape circa 1988.


That's little me with a pretty awesome Animal puppet hamming it up for the entertainment of my elders. Also, I still use "I gotta go to the bathroom" as a way to get out of conversations where I don't know what to say.

Bits and Pieces

Lots of thoughts swirling around lately, and mostly unorganized.  A sampling of the bits and pieces grabbed from the tornado of my brain:

Dad's coming up this weekend.  We're meeting at a race on Sunday morning, then he's staying until Tuesday.  This'll be the first time I run with him, ever.  I'm really worried about being slow.  I know it's stupid  - he won't care, we're here to run it together, but still.  My Runner might be joining us.  I'm glad My Runner and Dad will get a chance to meet. They're very similar, which totally makes me a cliché, but what can ya do.  I love running with My Runner, and I know it will make me worry less about being slow, but there's a small part of me that wants to run just me and my dad.  I think that part's smaller than the part that wants both of them there.

I drove around ManchVegas for an hour on Wednesday checking out neighborhoods of apartments listed on craigslist.  It was ridiculously depressing how much some places were misrepresented.  Of course I only viewed the outside on these, but since I'm looking for a new neighborhood I thought that would be a good place to start.  As much as I want a place that's unique, part of a house, a few neighbors, a nice landlord, I think ultimately I won't be able to find a nice place in a nice neighborhood in my price range unless I go for apartment complex living.  Not really my first choice, but it's got the essentials that I'm looking for, and there are always openings.  The other drawback is that my current rental company operates at least half of the apartment complexes in MancheVegas.  They're probably not better or worse than other rental companies, but their tenant screening process leaves something to be desired.

Last weekend I ran the farthest I have yet - 6 miles.  I felt great, and ran an average 9:20min. mile in the Frozen Shamrock 3 mile race the next day.  This week I feel like crap.  My hip's been bothering me, my calves are cramping, and I've been having some, ah... lady issues.  I've taken some time off to rest, maybe too much time.  I've got a 4.6mi run planned with Pocket when she comes to visit on Saturday, then the race on Sun is 4 miles.  I'm still not feeling great, but it's time to get back in the saddle.  I've totally neglected my PT the last two weeks (slaps hand) and I know that's why my hip is bothering me.  The half-marathon is in 16 days; no time to rest on my weary laurels.

Speaking of the ShamRock (half)Marathon, this was today's facebook post:
Coach Jerry Frostick's tip of the week: Less is best, don't try and make up for missed mileage. Everyone has battled the worstwinter that I remember. That same determination will get you to the finish line. Feel proud of what you've done.Usethese last two weeks to heal aches and pains and visualize great things for... your big day!You all will Sham ROCK.
It's like Coach Jerry is reading my mind.  I'm not going to go crazy with miles, but I am working to get my drive, determination, and "sticktoitiveness" back on line.  (When did "sticktoitiveness" become an ok word to use?)


Pocket and I will be heading to my Alma Mater after our run on Saturday to see a show produced by the theatre department from which I graduated.  It hasn't been terribly long since I attended, and most of my profs are still working there.  I've always been proud of my education.  While the name and the department doesn't necessarily have a huge reputation, I felt the professors and program were all well-rounded and encouraged exploration of talents and strengths.  I really hope it's a good show.


Mom recently "guilted" me that I've been dating My Runner for over six months now and she barely knows him.  She's right, it's weird.  I have a very close relationship with my family, so the fact that I'm so happy and they don't know him IS totally strange.  So we're having dinner on Wednesday, hosted by Face and Mop.  I'm super psyched.  Getting the chance to meet some of his family over Easter.  Excited, but oddly not really nervous.  I mean, I hope they like me, and there is a certain amount of strain making small talk with a room full of strangers, but I'm just happy to get to see a little more of where My Runner comes from.


I know I'm "of that age," but EVERYONE is getting married this year.  Three friends, two family members.  Five weddings.  Don't get me wrong, I actually really like weddings.  Celebrating love, eating, dancing, drinking, wearing pretty clothes, all things I truly enjoy.  And, luckily, there's not a single union that I'm in any way opposed to.  The only down side is that my schedule for the spring/summer/fall is now pretty full, and already there are conflicts with weddings and planned trips.  Normally I'm a "first come first serve" kind of gal when it comes to plans, but people tend to only get married once (at least, to each other), and friends and family are sort of expected to prioritize a wedding over, say, a backpacking trip.  Knowing I will have equal but different fun at either event is not helping me make a decision.

Holiday Season

Brother Mine and I were raised as Hallmark Christians. We were never baptized (until we were older - that's how we "rebelled,"), never went to church unless someone was getting married or died. But we did celebrate Christmas and Easter in the finest Hallmark fashion - presents, food, brightly colored mascots, etc.

Things, as they often do, got more complicated when my parents divorced, and even more so when my mom moved my brother and me to NH. We had our Christmas as a family, then my mom's Family Christmas (Memere, her5 siblings, all my cousins, and eventually my cousin's kids), then my Dad's family Christmas (similar to my mom's - those French Canadians really know how to breed).

As an adult it became a little easier to balance all the commitments. I could drive myself to different locations, and ultimately began to choose one family for certain holidays so I could stay and enjoy the company. Mr. Fixit came into our lives, bringing his lovely children and grandchildren, and one more Christmas celebration (2nd Christmas). Friends are home to visit (Smarty Pants, Deej, the recently engaged Golden Girl, and Brother Mine, just to name a few), and of course I want to spend quality time with all of them. And my friends that ARE my family: Face and Mop, Fleur, Seacoast, and the aforementioned visitors, just to name a few. These are the people who have been with me through thick and thin, good times and bad, and CHOSE to love me unconditionally. And of course I want to spend time with my sweetie, My Runner, and all the new friends I've met and grown to enjoy through him.

As much as I love seeing everyone, spending time with family and friends, sharing a laugh, some food, libations, it feels very stressful this season. I'll look at my calendar and how full the next week is, and I can feel my blood pressure rise. And then I think of my family, chosen and unchosen, and how lucky I am to be surrounded by people I love. If I beleived in blessings, I suppose you could say that when I count them, I am rich.

Happy Holidays. I hope this season reminds you that love is an important gift, and sharing time and experiences together is part of what makes us happy, healthy, whole human beings.

Meet the Parents

Using my Google Calendar and Facebook, I figured out that My Runner and I have been dating for a little over four months now. While he's technically met my parents (twice), they've never really MET. Next week, Mom and Mr. Fixit are coming over to my apartment, My Runner is cooking dinner, and we're all gonna have fun. Right? RIGHT??

I'm mostly not worried. The first "meeting" went really quite well, and he made a good impression. During my Calamity Jane week when we first started dating (I swear I'll post the origin story soon - I'm working on it), My Runner dropped me off at my parent's house to pick up a loaner car while Mr. Fixit worked on mine. I introduced everyone, Mr. Fixit and My Runner exchanged a few words about what he'd already done with the car, and then he took off. As soon as he was out of the driveway, Mr. Fixit leaned over to me and said, "Good first impression. And that's the most important one."

Lemme give you an impression of Mr. Fixit, if you're not already familiar with him. He's a man's man. He grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania, he was in Vietnam, he's a mechanic, he hunts and ice-fishes, owns a boat, a Harley, and a pickup, and he almost single-handedly built the following on my Mom's property: a shed, a car port, a garage, and an 8' extension of the entire house. He's handy, needless to say, and very independent. He's friendly and quick with a smile, but doesn't suffer fools and can smell a rat a mile away. And he almost never likes the guy I'm with. So, when Mr. Fixit approves, I knew I had something special.

I turned to my Mom. "What did you think?" I mean, I'm glad Mr. Fixit liked him - that would make life easier. But Mom is, well, MOM. Her opinion is important to me. "Well, he's very cute." Thanks, Mom, noticed that one. "But don't you think it's too soon? I don't want to see you get hurt."

::sigh:: yeah. It probably was technically too soon. After all, The Boy had only been out of the house for a month. And My Runner wasn't long out of his previous relationship either. But I felt like my relationship with The Boy had ended long before it actually ended. My Runner and I were open and honest about where we both were emotionally. We were just taking it one day at a time, not rushing into anything. Explaining this to Mom did not make that worried look leave her face, though. I knew I'd have to get them together - once she knew him and decided to like him (or not) she could be as worried (or not) as she wanted.

SO. Here we are, four months later, and finally we're all finding the time in our schedules to sit down and have a meal together. I'm nervous, sure. What will we talk about? Will I accidentally go overboard with liquid libation and say something stupid? Will Mom? Or Mr. Fixit? What if the plans fall through? What if Brother Mine ends up being in Manchester that night and joins us too - will that be better? Worse?

Wow... I'm a little more nervous than I thought. But I know My Runner. He's charming and open and friendly. He's offered to cook for the evening, which is generous and a smart move (gives him something to do other than be interrogated by my family, plus he's a great cook). I am a product of my environment, and Mom and Mr. Fixit are very much like me. If My Runner enjoys my company, he'll likely enjoy theirs.

Even knowing the likelihood of disaster is small, my stomach tightens a little when I see "Dinner w/ Parents" on my calendar. It's important to me that Mom and Mr. Fixit enjoy My Runner's company, and vice-versa. And knowing that I have little-to-no control over the situation is making me anxious. Any words or thoughts you want to share would be helpful at this time. :-)

On Keeping One's Self

Sometimes I wonder where I've gone.


When it's just me, I do what I want. I know my worth. I know I'm loyal and kind and witty and inapropriate and thoroughly depricating to my friend's enemies. I have my life and I live it with gusto. I spend inordanite amounts of time with friends and family, with time leftover to keep my house clean and my fridge stocked with yummy homemades. I go to the gym, or not, but I can still own a room. I walk through the world knowing, loving, and owning myself.

When I'm with someone, I see myself "through their eyes," and in my twisted stupid girl mind, that means I see the worst of myself. My loyalty, kindness, and willingness to sacrifice my own time and needs for the ones I love makes me needy, clingy, and weak. The ability to have my own life with family and friends makes me distant and unapproachable. Spending time at home alone becomes time for sad girl chores. Going to the gym is a desperate attempt to stay thin and pretty, and rooms suddenly own me. I waft through the world, no longer knowing myself.


This is my fault. I certainly hope this is not how anyone I'm with perceives me. I blame my "stupid girl." You know, the one that sits inside your brain and calculates how much thinner that girl is than you, or tells you not to even bother going to the gym since no one will love you no matter how skinny you are. This is not new. This is baggage at its ugliest.


Of course all of this was prompted by a discussion with My Runner. Poor guy is sorta the receptical for this portion of baggage. Not that he didn't bring any luggage to the flight, but I certainly packed my own suitcase of issues.


Also, when I say, "discussion," I mean "gchat." Because we're both on it all day long at work. Gchat is like nuclear power - awesome and either really great or really horrible depending on how you use it. "With great power must come great responsibility." Thanks, Uncle Ben. You were so right. Anyways, we were talking about scaring each other off, (see, folks? baggage on both sides), and I mention that I'm worried I'll scare him off my asking for too much of his time. To which he replies that he thinks we spend a lot of time together. Warning signals are flashing in my brain - do NOT go on. But stupid girl brain takes over. Oh sure, we do spend a lot of time together. But that doesn't mean I don't *want* more. ::sigh:: good job, stupid girl brain. I'm pretty sure my next line was something about liking cheese and ooh shiny distraction, but it was too late.


We actually DO spend a good amount of time together. 2-3 days a week. That's really a lot. I don't spend that amount of time with anyone else. Sometimes Face or Pocket or Smarty (well, not now that she's in another state), but that's pretty much it. And recently I certainly haven't been spending that much time with the girls. I've given priority to My Runner. Why?


Well, certainly I like spending time with him. He's cute and funny and charming. He's depreciating to his and his friends enemies. He's beautiful to watch when he's running or playing sports, and he can own a room. We're often actually *doing* things, rather than sitting around watching tv or movies. But I think there's also that part of me... that twisted girl mind... that tells me to be I *need* to be present with him to make sure he hasn't run away. That makes me see the innocent questions I ask/statements I make as mind-fucks, and then makes me backpedal and explain to the point that those innocent questions appear to actually be mind-fucks.


I dont' want to be needy. Or clingy. I want to be me. I want to feel the way I feel when I walk into a room and decide whether I'll own it or share it. I want to be ok - REALLY OK, not just, "well, ok," with doing other things. I don't want to need his approval or attention to find my self worth. I don't want to be constantly thinking of him when I'm with my family or friends and he's not.


This is a conscious decision I have to make. I know I make it when I'm single: I will love me. When I'm with someone that I want to spend more than a small amount of time with, it's like all my energy goes to them. I need to keep some for me. Maybe more than some. For one thing, it's only healthy. All the doctors and psychological authorities and Cosmo say so. Ok, but for serious, if any of my girlfriends were acting the way I am and saying the things I am, I would tell her that she's got to spend more time and love on her. For two things, if HE started acting the way I am acting, I'd be like, who the hell are you? And for third thing, he was attracted to me when I was that girl who owned the room. The one who did lots of things with lots of people and who was loyal and kind and witty and inapropriate and thoroughly depricating to my friend's enemies. Not sad bastard girl who wastes away in her tower when her prince isn't there.

God I don't like that girl. I don't want to be that girl. Friends, how can you stand that girl? Well, before you even answer that question, thanks for standing that girl. I promise, I'm trying to make it better. There's a balance, and I'll find it. Because I can be loyal and kind and witty and inapropriate and thoroughly depricating to my friend's enemies AND in a relationship.

My Mostly Crappy Weekend with Dad - a Diatribe

I recently went to visit my Dad in PA. We see each other 2, maybe 3 times a year. I was looking forward to this visit: we had planned it in the summer so I knew I could get time off, and he was hosting a race event for his running club. Friday morning I packed my bags and Fred, ran the car through the carwash (someone was stabbed in my neighborhood and used my car as a blood recepticle. The police said he was a bad guy anyways, apologized, helped me take the crime tape off my car, and let me through the blockades. Ah, Manch.)

From the start my Dad was distracted by race details. I know what it's like to organize a big event, so I was there and ready to help. Having never worked on a race like this (crewing is for one person, working on the race is for all of them) I was a little nervous, but the other volunteers were nice and helpful. Registrations got screwed up, then I screwed things up more during our work around, then the computer system they were using to track runners got screwed up, the people taking the tags didn't do it right, and on and on. It wasn't *that* bad, but for the 4th or 5th time of doing this event, it was more issues than it should have been. Dad was running around trying to fix everything. After the race he was pretty disappointed.

Still, we had lunch at Stoudt's with some of the other volunteers. We reviewed some of the things that went wrong to learn from it, and had a pretty good time after that. I was glad the race was done so I could just hang with my Dad. Oh, except LoLo's daughter and grandson were stopping by this evening. Oh, ok. I mean, *I'm* visiting you, so it's a little weird, but she was a pretty cool girl and her son was cute and well-behaved, so it didn't turn out too badly.

Before she came over my Dad dropped an emotional bomb: "I'm toying with the idea of not coming to Christmas this year. It's starting to feel like an obligation." What? The ONE time of year that we have standing plans, and it feels too much like an obligation? I'm sure my indignation read plainly on my face because he started backpedaling and "explaining" etc. "It's not an obligation to visit you, just the family Christmas stuff." Ok, I know my Dad, and I get that. But still... "I still want to see you this winter, when else do you have time?" Um, I don't. I have time at Christmas because that's when you're there so I block it off all year. It's not easy for me to take time off of work when it's not school vacation. "I'll look at my calendar and send you a few dates, you can let me know." Yeah. Sure. Wow was I feeling shitty.

I *like* tradition. In a big family with separated parents, tradition helps you enjoy the holiday and not feel stressed or emotionally blackmailed. It's like, we agreed upon this arrangement, now we can just enjoy it. This year both my parents decided to fuck with my tradition, and it's felt like an attack. (Mom's story is mostly resolved, but that's another entry). I was not totally involved for the rest of the evening, which I felt a little bad about, but my Dad ended up wasted and falling asleep on the couch, so in the end I was hanging out with LoLo and her daughter.

We had planned on going on a hike the next day. It was sunny and warm and a perfect fall day. I decided to put the Emotional Bomb away for now - we only had one day left - and just enjoy my time with Dad. We had a good morning, and a great hike. We went to this lookout and saw bald eagles and red-tailed hawks. We did a little exploring around historic areas by the river. All in all, the kind of day I like to have with my Dad.

On our way home we go to his other favorite bar. We're among the first ones there - it's just 4pm. I order a beer, he gets a gimlet. And another. We get food and the bartender from Stoudt's comes in after his shift. Dad knows both bartenders *really* well. I decide to indulge and get a martini. Dad wouldn't let me drive us home anyways - he's pretty touchy about that. I'm starting to have a shitty time. Dad's not really talking to me, gimlets are being poured for him without even needing to ask. I'm not really talking to him. We head home, I'm pretty drunk, he might be too for all I know. Sound like a pattern? Sound like the apple doesn't fall far? Yeah....

We're sitting around talking. He asks me about My Runner - we've talked about him several times, but this time Dad asks with that same look my mom gets: "I'm worried you started this relationship so soon after the Boy." I give him the same response I give my mom and everyone else: we worried about that too. Now, it's our own relationship. The Boy and I were done a long time before we broke up.

This is when Dad kinda sorta accuses me of cheating. "It's almost like you had him waiting in the wings." I blink. Seriously? I didn't even know My Runner when the Boy and I broke up. He backs down on that argument and we start talking about the Boy - relationship autopsy stuff. "Well, I always thought he was cheating on you." Again, with the blinking. What? "Well, his behavior, always going to his 'sister's' house, you know." No, this would be the first time I would consider that.... "Plus he accused you of cheating when you broke up. Transference." Hmm, let's think about where the transference might be coming from in this scenario.... Still, why didn't you say something? "Well, I didn't want to stick my nose in your business." YOU'RE MY FUCKING FATHER, THAT'S YOUR JOB!! Especially if you think I'm in a bad relationship! You thought the Boy had a drinking problem, you didn't mention that until things were almost over either. Don't you care that I spent 4 years with an a-hole and you never said anything? It might not have changed the outcome, but then again, it might have. And at least I would have known you cared enough to try.

This is about when I stop remembering things. I went to the car to charge my phone and called Face. Basically ranted this entire post to her. I'm sure she was loving and commiserating and very comforting. I don't really remember, but I know her and that's what she would have done. I called My Runner - luckily he didn't answer since I have NO idea what I would have said. I woke up at 2am on the couch, thoughts of all the crap Dad had said swirling around my brain. A shower, water, and some Advil and I was back asleep and SO ready to leave town in the morning.

Dad made raspberry pancakes for breakfast. I had already packed everything up and was ready to go. We went over directions. I apologized for passing out - I remember how I felt when he did it and to turn around and do it to him... well, who knows if he even cared. I loaded the car, herded Fred into his cage, and said goodbye to Dad. "Next time maybe you can stay for more than 2 days, huh?" I guess by now I should have expected the emotional blackmail. I just laughed - what else could I do? I was so not interested in thinking about a next time right now. I just wanted to go home.

My relationship with Dad hasn't always been good. I remember him sitting me down after attending a 4th of July parade in NJ when my parents were separating, trying to convince me that I should tell the judge I want to live with him. I was 8. After a short engagement, he eloped with his second wife while I was in high school. The original plans were for a small wedding, and Brother and I were one of 6 invitees. That made me feel so special - only to have it taken away with the news of their elopement... 3/4's of the way down a card. I didn't talk to him for years, if I could help it. Took me almost 4 years to tell him how bad it was. She turned out to be a douche and it was really hard to not say "I told you so" when they were getting divorced, but I didn't because that's not what people do when someone you love is hurting. It took a long time for us to build up to the relationship we had... Had. I don't know who this guy was that I visited, but if he's Dad now, I'm not happy with the place that he's in. He's my Dad, and I still love him, but I really don't like him right now.