Bear Brook Fat Ass, January 29th, 2011

About Christmas time Dad let me know that he and his girlfriend L were going to be vacationing in the White Mountains the last week in January, and could they stop by and stay over on their way home?  This invited the idea of planning a "Fat Ass" event: a run (generally) with no aid stations, a group of crazy folks, and beer at the end.  I had initially planned on a 29K- about 18 miles total- in Bear Brook State Park.  I've never run this distance, plus it's the middle of winter and training time is sparse... this was gonna be a challenge to complete, never mind plan.

With all the snow we've had there was no way we were running without at least some serious traction.  I ended up suggesting snow shoes or cross country skis to anyone partaking.  I downloaded a map of Bear Brook's trails, read the descriptions of each one, coded them for difficulty, and mapped out a route with two "peaks" and plenty of rolling terrain.  Since snowshoeing is more taxing than "mere" running, I downgraded the distance.  The large loop measured a bit more than 9 miles according to the map scale, with three bail-out points between 5 and 6 miles.

Planned route at Bear Brook State Park

Know me and you know that I take my "planner" responsibilities pretty seriously.  I was worried no one would show up.  Then I was worried a lot of people would show up and they'd hate it.  I worried that I forgot something crucial.  The morning of the event came and I knew at least 7 people were coming out to play in the woods and at least 5 were coming back to eat at my place after.  My head swam with logistics about feeding people, ensuring my house guests were comfortable, packing proper food and hydration.

My Runner and Sherpa had met at 6:15am that morning to start on the trails and gain some extra mileage in anticipation of the Peak Snow Shoe Race in March.  Their pre-surveillance of the trails, as well as Sherpa's familiarity with BBSP, turned out to be very helpful.

So, I forgot the map.  Obviously.  Though it turns out I didn't even have the correct one- I had the Summer Trail Map that didn't show which trails were groomed for snowmobiles and what trails we'd have to break.  Luckily Sherpa came prepared (at least the tens of thousands of tuition dollars paid for SOMETHING... saving my ass!) with 6 copies of the winter trail maps. 

Next surprise- Dad and L had one pair of snow shoes between them.  Snow shoes that were likely made by Inuits at least 10 years before I was born.  Seriously, these things shoulda been in a museum.  After learning how groomed the trails were, I suggested they both wear their x-country skis.  L was still gaining confidence in her skis, and Sherpa re-assured her that she could handle the terrain. 

The group heading out from the parking area

Ten people and a doggie set out from the parking lot (which was NOT the lot I had planned on starting from- the gates to THAT lot were closed despite what I had been told by park staff).  The weather was warm: about 25* at 10am.  Spirits were high, and we were all chatting and having a grand time.  I felt great, despite being tired and having forgotten the map.

The first turn came to go up Bear Hill and the trail was steep and ungroomed.  A decision was made that the cross-country skiers, Dad and L, the two "novice" snow shoers G and J, and the doggie would go off on their own.  The rest of us would "catch up" (yeah right).  We didn't see Dad and L again until the parking lot. 

Gazelle, Sherpa, me, Taps, Puma, and photog My Runner

My Runner, Sherpa, Puma, Gazelle, Taps, and myself broke trail up the slope.  The trail on the map appeared to be no more than a quarter mile, but the sign at the trail head stated 1.2 miles to the summit (the first in MANY signs that this day would be longer than expected).  We all worked hard breaking the trail taking turns in the lead until we reached the summit.  About a tenth of a mile from the top we saw the quarter mile summit trail that was the PLANNED route... whoops.  We used it as a return route and began down the groomed Podunk Road.  (Seriously.  Podunk.  I *wish* I could make this shit up.)

The snowmobilers were out in droves.  I knew Bear Brook was popular for snow mobiles, but we spent a quarter of the time hunkered by the side of the groomed road choking on fumes.  The positive- at least half of them were polite and shared the roads with us. 

It wasn't long- ok, it WAS long, but we weren't far into my planned hike when I leaned over to Taps who has a fancy-schmancy GPS watch and said, "How long we been out here?"
"About two hours."
"And... how far have we gone?"
"5.3 miles."
"Shit.  Sherpa, lemme see that map...."

Taps and me on the trails

We were about a third of the way into the "9 mile" loop, and still quite a distance from the bail out points.  I was feeling great, but Gazel had only snowshoed about 4 times this year, and Puma was nursing an injury and coming back from time off.  We weren't going super fast, but I realized there was no way this was gonna be short for anyone.  I confided in Sherpa, who looked at me knowingly.  "I didn't know how to tell you without stepping on your toes..."  Whelp, in for a penny in for a pound today.  Shit, in for a penny in for a kilo and a bonus pack.

Gazelle, Puma, and Sherpa

My Runner giving me a (deserved) long-suffering look

Ultimately we were on the trail for about 5 hours and 11.5 miles.  Dad and L arrived at the parking lot an hour and change before us, and gallantly picked up beer for everyone.  At the mention of beer, Gazelle, true to her name, sprang ahead, eager to take of her snow shoes and relax.

Gazelle waiting impatiently for us to catch up, Sherpa with his trademark Shit-Eating-Grin

I felt GREAT at the end of 11.5 miles.  Puma was hurting, but in good spirits once her shoes were off.  Taps was still bouncing off the walls- that guy has ENDLESS energy.  Sherpa seemed to have a great time, but headed home early (poor guy can't have beer now anyways...).  My Runner had angered his achillies after 18+ miles of snowshoeing in boots not really made for hiking or outdoor sports.

Dad, L, Taps, Puma, My Runner, and I retired back to my place for salty snacks and crock-pot fajitas.  The beer flowed, we chatted about hiking, races and runs past and future, and much more.  Fred got some cuddle love.  I started to fade around 6:30, kicked out the guests, had one last beer with Dad, then excused myself and slept, SOUNDLY, for 10 hours.

I made many "mistakes" with this first Fat Ass.  I'm still not sure what happened with the map scale, and I really should have scouted at least the parking area.  While I understand the decision to break up the group, I was bummed I didn't spend more time with Dad on the trails.  However I was very happy snow shoeing ELEVEN MILES!  And luckily my mistakes didn't result in any serious injuries or illnesses.  Best of all, I got to explore an amazing park that's about twenty minutes from my apartment.

It'll be a while before I plan a Fat Ass again, but when I do I hope to at least not make the same mistakes twice.

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.  

FatAss 50K (on a bike) Part 2

I check back on my group when I'm in front - everyone's looking good, so I ride ahead up this hill, challenging myself and knowing that they're alright.  Occasionally I see us from an outsider's eye: two or three runners on a cold winter day, and a biker with a silly striped hat.  I find it alternately absurd and fantastic.  I know there are people driving by in their SUV's, kids plugged in to the DVD player in the back, looking at us like we're crazy.  I know this because I used to be those people (sans SUV, DVD, and kids).  It's ok.  Either something will move them and they'll come around, or they won't.  I'm glad I came around.

One of the fun parts of going on any kind of trek, especially one that puts you in immediate contact with the world (as opposed to behind the window of a car or train, etc.) is seeing things you would never have seen otherwise.  Gross things, like riding over freshly killed chippies; random things like a glove stuck in a snow bank; awesome things like a FOUR TIERED SNOWMAN (seriously, that this was kickass).  I personally cherish those little sights and experiences.  Like cairns, they remind me that I'm on a path, creating mental landmarks and a framework for the journey.

Side note: Henniker must have an awesome sign maker, because almost every business, office, or establishment had a carved and painted wooden sign hanging out front.  It was very "old timey" looking, and I'm sure someone in the Henniker planning department is super proud of him-or-her-self for making businesses get them.  Mr. or Ms. Planning Department Person, well played.

Avoiding traffic in Henniker was a challenge.  The roads are narrow, there's a big long hill, and for some reason EVERYONE was out in their cars on Sunday.  Actually, traffic was pretty heavy almost half the time, even in Hillsboro.  The runners could move to sidewalks when they were available, but that wasn't a great game plan for me - the ice and snow was too unpredictable under my wheels, and (because I am stubborn) I wasn't wearing a helmet.

Entering into the Gould Pond area the second time, all the runners are tired.  I'm cold, my quads are a little stiff, and my butt is totally saddle sore, but I'm still feeling pretty good over all.  It was unspoken, but everyone could feel the mood dropping.  Instinctively, we all took turns doing our best to keep things light, keep everyone moving forward, keep minds off of hurting feet or aching legs.  Sherpa exclaims that the last 6 miles in Hillsboro to be the LONGEST SIX MILES EVER and he's not wrong.  I knew I was feeling better than these guys, but good GOD it took forever to get through that neighborhood!

That last turn back onto Bog Rd. was magical.  One final hill, and at the top is the house.  We all wearily trudge up the driveway, looking forward to warmth (I *didn't* get frostbitten toes, thankfully), bathrooms (whatever moves you forward, right?), couches and kittehs.  Beef stew, "Turkey Beans," tea, water, chips, and an assortment of other belly warmers were consumed over the next few hours.  We said goodbye to Sherpa as he went home to his fiance, and gladly sank into the comfy cushions in the living room.  I've never been so content to drink tea and watch football in my life.

With all the fun I had, all the things I saw, there's nothing quite like the joy of completion.  I can never really relax until the job is done.  Even though I was stiff and cold, I felt great.  The state of my body was a testament to my day: completing 32 miles on my bike, however slowly, spending the day with friends, being out doors in this beautiful state, challenging myself.

FatAss 50K (on a bike) Part 1

My Runner had originally signed up for the Boston Prep Race this weekend.  Always frugal, he decided to save the entry fee and create his own run.  Thus the Fat Ass 50K was born: two 16 mile loops in Hillsboro and Henniker.  Since I'm convalescing, I rode it on my bike.  Sherpa joined us from the Seacoast, and Puma Girl on the second loop.

The forecast had predicted 37* temps and rain for Sunday.  Thank you, nature, for holding off on the rain, though the temps were low.  My Runner, Sherpa, and I on my cycle headed out at 9:30am in a crisp winter day with the sun shining through a few clouds.  The loop is beautiful, starting out on packed dirt roads and paved back roads of Hillsboro.  We cross under the highway and turn onto a road following the Contoocook River (ask Sherpa how it got it's name... )  In Henniker we cross over the highway again, following a rolling path back east, leading to the neighborhoods around Gould Pond and back to the start.  As the day moved from sunny to overcast, the landscape remained beautiful: country roads, downtown Henniker, a highway overpass with views of the mountains all around.

I love being out with My Runner.  It wasn't until we couldn't run together that I really knew how much I loved it.  I missed my running partner.  Sure, I miss running, but I mostly miss running with him.  Honestly, it's a great time for us.  We talk and laugh and catch up, we challenge each other, and sometimes it's the easiest time to say the hardest things.  Being out there with the bike wasn't the same, but it was close enough.  32 miles is a loooong run, even for an Ultra Runner, in the off season, and I'm glad I could be there with him through this challenge.

Sherpa seemed psyched to run Sunday morning.  If you haven't read his blog, I encourage you to.  While I don't agree with every opinion he has (and he's got a few...) I do agree with his core philosophy about human potential.  Hell, I've experienced it.  When I first met Sherpa at the VT50, he asked if I ran.  I'm pretty sure I laughed at him and at the thought of me EVER being a runner.  Well, shows what I know.  Anywhoodle, Sherpa was a frickin' riot on Sunday, catching My Runner and I up on some gossip, telling dirty jokes, sacrificing his gloves to the defecation gods, dancing down the road to Led Zepplin....  Not that there weren't quiet moments, but if you're gonna spend 6 hours in the cold, having a good time makes it much funner.

After a bit of food, bathroom breaks, and (for me) warmer socks, we were back out on the road.  Puma Girl joined us for the second lap.  Puma Girl has been training hard for the Peak Snowshoe Marathon and was nursing some heel pain, but luckily found that was not an issue today.  It's always great to see someone challenge themselves, and Puma did just that and came out on top.

A fresh addition makes a difference in a group.  Granted, I felt somewhat removed the whole time since I'm on wheels and they're on feet, but I could still observe the dynamic.  Actually, I could probably see it clearer.
I often had to choose to bike on ahead or slam my breaks and steer to the side to avoid traffic.  I preferred going behind the group rather than in front if I had to.  I liked seeing everyone, making sure they were all ok.  Still, even in front I had time to think about the day - we were out for 6 hours - and the group.  I remember when I was in high school in Venture class, Coach K would tell me that leading is harder than following.  I always knew that to be true when one is the lead in planning, on a group project, etc, and I was comfortable with that kind of risk.  But leading on a trail was frightening for me.  What if I'm going too slow?  Too fast?  What if I miss a marker and get us lost?  What if someone behind me sees my ineptitude and calls my dumbass on it?  Eventually, with the help of that class, I pushed my self to lead more often on the trail and let others lead more often in the planning.  I still find it challenging to be in the lead on excursions, but the combination of that experience at 18 and my subsequent years in this world have enabled me to let go of the anxiety and the questions.

Part 2 posted soon!

Beaver Brook 5K - Report

.... and the alarm went off soooooooo early......

I looked at my phone and see a text from Pocket - she's not coming. She's worried about injury running on snowy trails, which is understandable since at this moment she doesn't have health insurance. But I'm bummed. "What's up?" My Runner asks as I sigh. "Pocket's out." My Runner, who was waffling on racing since he missed his kittehs, picks up the torch and comes with. I assure him that he doesn't have to, that I'm a big girl and can run on my own, but he ignores my protest. I'm glad - I always prefer company.

It was chilly, but not freezing. We drove down winding roads to the Beaver Brook Reserve in Hollis, passing farms and farmhouses covered in a blanket of snow, sales on Christmas Trees, ribbons of blue woodsmoke drifting up from chimneys, and apple orchards dormant for winter. Sky was a perfect blue with few puffy clouds, the snow was sparkling in the sun. We arrive at the trailhead park, and I grab our numbers, shirts, and goodie bags. The race director and volunteers are friendly and fun. Race Director is up front about goodie bags - he's cleaning his garage. That explains the mix of energy drinks, energy "chews," lube samples, and meat seasoning all in one bucket. The group reminds me of my dad's running group - the focus is fun, socialization, and sharing the sport we love.

My Runner is up-beat, making me laugh, but I am still bumming. I'm tired. We trot up and down the trail a bit, and I decide today is not the day for the added challenge of snow-shoes. A good choice in the end, I think. The run itself was challenging enough.

There were runners of all sorts, mostly there for fun, which was great. A group of girls who could have been in high school or college (I've recently realized I'm too old to tell now), older couples, families with kids and dogs, and a few real "racers." Once we got to the starting line I was beginning to feel better. Looking around at everyone else who had decided to brave the snow made me feel like some sort of wonderful misfit. My Runner gave me a pre-race goodluck kiss, always an ego booster, and we were off.

The start of the trail wasn't too bad. Enough runners and snow-shoers had trotted it that it was packed. About 1/4 mi in, though, it got a little more powdery. This would be my challenge for the rest of the run. Running in powder is much like running in sand, except when I run in sand I've always been barefoot and not racing. Using stabilizer muscles rarely used, unexpected slips, etc. "Light on your feet," My Runner says, trying to help me out. I'm not totally sure what he means, but I reach into my "dance" training and move my center of gravity up from my hips to my chest and hope that helps. I can feel my footfalls changing, but I'm still sliding all over.

"Take shorter steps," he advises. "Don't fight the snow, just go with it." All great advice, but it was hard for me to put it all into action. I couldn't not fight the snow, even with shorter and lighter steps. I was working just as hard to fight off frustration as I was to stay on my feet. Finally I realized I wasn't enjoying what I came out here for - the fun of being outside in the woods on a beautiful winter's day. I couldn't raise my eyes too much off the ground - I slipped worse when I did that - but I adjusted my gaze up a little, keeping my eyes scanning for hazards and trail conditions ahead while still being able to look at and enjoy my surroundings.

It's a pretty area, and I was settling into a stride, and finally starting to enjoy myself. We turned onto another trail and My Runner and I were able to run side-by-side. He's got a big smile on his face and words of encouragement. I'm feeling really good, and starting to overtake some runners. We reach the turnaround - halfway. "Save some gas for the end," he warns, rightly so, since the trail has been all downhill on the way in and will be all uphill on the way out.

Still, I feel like I'm being somewhat conservative. I'm "reeling them in," as My Runner puts it: slowly catching up with folks in front of me and passing them. Move too slow and they get away, move to fast and your line breaks. I'm feeling tired, but good, and I have confidence in finishing.

Then we hit the last, oh, 3/4 mile. Powder. Uphill. ugh. I'm still slipping all over the place, which is frustrating. Slipping while climbing was worse. The more frustrated I get, the tighter my chest gets, the harder time I have breathing. We finish a particularly lengthy climb and I just half to walk. I can feel my breakfast yearning to come back up. I'm so mad at myself for walking I'm catching sobs in my throat, which is NOT helping me recover my breathing. My Runner, who was in front of me setting pace, continues with encouragement. "You can do it! Focus on your breathing. You've got this, we're almost there!"

I shook off the self-loathing and started shuffling my feet. Short steps. Wasn't moving fast, but was running. Focused 4 feet ahead of me, which luckily for me was My Runner's very shapely butt. Anything that keeps ya goin'. :-)

The finish line was in site - at the top of the hill of powder. "Here we go, we're at the end, finish strong!" "Yep, ok." heh... finishing on my feet was about as strong as I could manage. But finish on my feet I did. Crossing the finish line, all I wanted to do was double over - my breakfast still hadn't decided it wasn't coming up. My Runner was all smiles, hugs, kisses. I loved that he was so proud and happy, but I really didn't want to puke on him. He grabbed me some water and hot cocoa, and waited for me to collect myself.

"Twenty-seven thirty-six, hon." What? Really? I didn't even notice there was a clock at the end. 4.5K in 27 minutes and change in the snow. Suddenly I didn't mind feeling like crap - I worked hard, and I made good time. (at posting time official results are not up. boo.)

I think back on the run and I remember the challenge, sure, but in a positive light. I remember the snow-smiley face someone had put on a tree that made me laugh. I remember the guy running with a beagle that so wanted to hang out with My Runner that he slowed the guy down, and the man with the beautiful Newfie watching and encouraging runners. The way the snow started flying when the snow-shoers started the race. I went from feeling like crap to feeling awesome, the sense of accomplishment and shared experience buoyed my spirit.

Before the end of this month I have to decide how dedicated I am. I'm registering for an 8K in VA Beach, and I have to decide if I'm going to try for the half-marathon the next day. I have a training program, I know my body is physically capable of completing a 13 mile run once conditioned. I'm just ... nervous. I've done two 5K's, and now I'm gonna train for a half-marathon? I'm worried I'm over extending myself. But maybe the challenge is what I need to get me there.

I still have two weeks to decide.

Shamrock Marathon: http://www.shamrockmarathon.com/site3.aspx

Winter Wonderland

What a fantastic weekend. I got to enjoy all the things I love: family, friends, outdoors, and theatre.

Friday night was supposed to be a "get stuff done" night, but my last three hours at work were one atrocity after another. I really needed a "relax and have fun" night. Face is a perfect companion for relaxing and having fun. I wanted to grab a few accessories to brighten up my outfit for her holiday party, and she was looking for a few last-minute odds n' ends for her annual shindig. One would think that going to stores and the mall during Christmas season would not be a relaxing evening, but anytime spent with Face is fun time. Finished off the evening at home with a bath and a glass of wine. Ahhhh...

Saturday My Runner was picking me up early (ok, 9:30am, but that's early for a Saturday) to hike Pawtuckaway with Sherpa and his Fiancee. I was really looking forward to the hike. I like Sherpa and Future Mrs. Sherpa (FMS), and it's been a while since we've all just hung out and talked. It was cold, but I was prepared (and had purchased Gaiters the night before - woohoo!) and stayed toasty.

We met the Sherpas in the parking lot, exchanged hellos and hugs, suited up, and were off. Sherpa was leading, and I know I should have been paying attention to the trails and where we were, but I was having so much fun breaking through the snow and catching up with FMS that I really just followed and enjoyed the surroundings. It's been years since I've been on a winter hike - the last one I really remember is when I was in Venture Class in high school. The sun kept us warm, the trees kept the wind off our backs, and the company kept our spirits high.

The sky was clear as we reached the lookout tower, but the wind was blowing icy cold. We all ventured (with varying degrees of trepidation) up the narrow staircase of the lookout tower to enjoy the view. Sherpa pointed out landmarks: Uncanoonuc Mts., North and Middle Mts., and Pawtuckaway Lake, among others. The view was great, the rolling land laid out with a blanket of snow and ice, the sun reflecting off the water like a mirror. As beautiful as the view was, the wind drove us back into the woods. We hiked for a total of 3.5 hrs, on snowy and icy trails with an occasional break on a dirt road.

Back at the parking lot we said a fond farewell to the Sherpas and piled our stinky sweaty bodies in the truck. Two quick errands - meeting up with the buyer of My Runner's bike stand and grabbing taco stuff for lunch - and we were back at home.

I get so busy sometimes I forget how great it is to just bum around the house. Cooking lunch, eating, playing around on the computer, napping - just being with My Runner is fun.

We had a busy evening scheduled too. My show was in Nashua at 8pm, and we were leaving after my portion of the evening (around 8:30) to head to Mop and Face's Christmas party. The show went really well. It was an evening of short plays by playwrights that Yellow Taxi Productions has worked with in the past. The show I directed was the first up, taking place in the lobby of the Hunt Memorial Building in Nashua. One of my favorite things about Yellow Taxi is how they think outside the box when it comes to presenting shows. The show, by Brian Dykstra, is titled "Service/Order" and the plot revolves around a set of stairs that is out of service. We used the stairs located in the lobby - essentially Site Specific theatre. We also didn't make a formal announcement that the show was starting, nor did we have set seating (we did have chairs for our older patrons, of course). This resulted in a show where audience members were sometimes standing right between two characters that were having a conversation! I had done my best to prepare my actors for the surprises of the audience, and they did very well. I was proud of them, and happy with my work.

"Service/Order" completed, My Runner and I were off to our party. This was especially exciting to me because until a few days ago I didn't think My Runner would be coming with me. He wasn't really interested when I first invited him. I really didn't want him to go if he wasn't going to have a good time, and I certainly am not the kind of person to "make decisions" for other people, but I just couldn't understand why he was so against it. Still, I talked with him one more time about it, then let the matter drop. I'm a big girl and I don't *need* a date to have fun at a party, nor do I have an issue going places by myself. He knew how I felt and I knew (I thought) how he felt and that was that. I'm not really sure what changed his mind, but I was happy that he was with me. My friends are pretty awesome and fun and I knew he would end up having a good time.

I think I can chalk it up to this: he's in a different place now, I'm in a different place now, and WE'RE in a different place now. And that's all the detail I'll go into for the moment. :-)

Face and Mop's Christmas Party is an annual tradition. Face is the consummate hostess, refilling drinks and the punch bowl generously, putting thought into every detail down to napkin rings and wine glass markers, yet always circulating about the party chatting with her guests and spreading good cheer. The Annual Christmas Party is a great time to reconnect with folks we don't get to see often. I chatted, My Runner (after hiding in the basement with Chewie the cat for a few minutes... the party WAS loud) chatted, we were together, we were separate, we drank and ate and had a grand ol' time.

Me and Smarty, making her best "I hate you but I love you" face

Schmoop moment: I love watching him at parties. He's a really great conversationalist and slips into meeting new people with ease. He always actively listens, and is able to talk to just about anyone (including a "very happy" Smarty Pants, much to my delight - how I'd like to have been a fly on the wall of THAT conversation...). Yeah, he's pretty great. End schmoop moment.

It was a long day, and I had a race in the morning, so we cut out relatively early around midnight. I was happy to hear My Runner had a nice time (and I didn't even say "I told you so," see how good I am?) and happier when we got to my house and snuggled up in bed. I was the epitome of content as I drifted off to sleep in his arms.

.... and the alarm went off soooooooo early......