Around the world in 5-1/2 years (or a little over 2,000 days)
Way back in 2004, I started keeping track of how many miles I traveled while exercising on a spreadsheet (no, I wasn't exercising on a spreadsheet, I was keeping track on a spreadsheet). So every time I run or cycle or hike or swim, I record my mileage, total it up at the end of the month, and add it to the spreadsheet. And when I started doing this, I thought, "Wouldn't it be cool to make it all the way around the world" (in a virtual, rather than real, sort of way, obviously, because I'm not able to take a boat around the world like that one kid did just recently, which was actually a pretty amazing accomplishment, in my opinion - I mean, I just can't picutre taking a year off from life to do something like that - plus I don't know how to sail). Anyway, I kept plugging away, and lo and behold, when I entered the mileage for last month (June, 2009) I discovered that I'd passed the 25,000 mile mark, which was what I was counting as my "around the world" threshold (not sure how accurate that number is - so feel free to challenge this distance if it pleases you). To get to that grand total, I ran 5,930 miles, cycled 17,627 miles, hiked 1,269 miles, and swam 259 miles. Whew. Just typing that makes me a little bit tired. As a side note, I recently found out that my mom is doing the same thing - guess it runs (and swims, and cycles) in the family.
Kind of random milestone #2
In addition to keeping track of my mileage, I also keep track of every book I read (also on a spreadsheet). I've actually been doing this since September of 1994 (that would be close to 16 years for those of you keeping track). Well, this month, I went over the 1,000 books read mark (which averages out to approximately 64 books per year). My goal is to reach 1,000,000 pages, and I'm almost 1/3 of the way there (326,000 pages read so far). So I figure if I keep going at this pace, it will only take me another 30-35 years to make it, which means I'll be in the 75-80 year old range (assuming I make it that long - and I can still read - and there are still books). Yikes. Talk about a long-term goal. Now I wish I'd started keeping track earlier.
Some bad news from my achilles tendons
On the downside of things, my achilles tendons decided to act up last week, and I haven't been able to run for the past several days. I'm hoping it's just some swelling in the bursa sack that's at the attachment point and not tendonitis, because I've been down that road and it's definitely a long and winding one that I don't want to travel again. I'd much prefer a short and straight road that doesn't spring any surprises and provides an easy exit point in the not-too-distant future. In the meantime, I'm still able to cycle and do the elliptical, and I'm running in the pool, so in the grand scheme of things it could probably be much worse. Plus, we're still between seasons, so I have a couple of weeks to heal up before our new group starts practices on August 8.
Speaking of which…
Our new TNT season is getting revved up and we've been holding information meetings over the past few weeks. As always, it's exciting to see so many people sign up and get involved with such a good cause. We'll be training for the next 5 months or so to get ready for the Phoenix Rock 'n' Roll marathon in January. Katie will be participating this season, so you'll probably be hearing from her re. fund-raising in the not-too-distant future.
That's all I've got, so until next time, may your journeys be fruitful, may your fruit by juicy, and may your juice be delicious and nutritious.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Yellow Snacks, Puppies, Surprise Gifts, and Driver's Ed
This one time at Tech Camp…
Apparently, people who have actually been to band camp are annoyed when someone who has not been to band camp (like me) and who finds the phrase, "This one time at band camp…" to be mildly (or wildly) amusing uses the phrase as a joke. But, like I just said, I haven't ever been to band camp, but I have now been to tech camp, and this one time at tech camp, they served snacks in the afternoon, and everyone was really excited by the snack display because… it was all yellow! People came rushing into the room where we were working on our projects and said things like, "You've got to hurry out and see the snack display! It's all yellow!" As in, they had yellow food (e.g. potato chips, pinapple chunks, yellow M&M's) and yellow plates and yellow napkins and yellow tablecloths. Seriously, it was the most excited I saw people get all week (except when they were raffling off prizes, of course). I guess I'm just a stick in the mud, because I didn't get what all the fuss was about, and I didn't even eat any of the yellow snack food - mainly because they feed you a whole lot at tech camp, and I was still stuffed from lunch that day. But I did wander out so I could check out the display, and I observed that it was indeed all yellow, and then I went back to work on my project. But I did (and still do) wonder, why yellow? Why not blue or red or green? Still don't have an answer for that one, and I probably never will. I guess it will have to remain one of those great mysteries of life.
Maternal Instincts
My oldest daughter is currently puppy-sitting for two strange looking little critters who are very spoiled and very demanding, and she's finding it to be quite a challenge. As in, she gets really grumpy when the puppies wake up "unbelievably early" in the morning (let's define "unbelievably early" here as anytime before 7:00) and whine, screech, yip, yap and make other "let us out of our crate" puppy noises that impel her to get out of bed and let them out of their crate. "Why do they have to be so loud?" she asks. "Why do they have to get up so early? If they'd just sleep till 9:00 or so, I could handle it." Anyway, she lets them out, then shuffles back to bed to catch some more shut-eye. Meanwhile, the puppies do what puppies do, which is (in addition to making lots of noise when Caitlyn wants to be sleeping) to poop and pee all over the house. Which Connor actually kind of enjoys, because whenever he finds evidence that the puppies have pooped and/or peed somewhere in the house, it gives him an excuse to go wake up Caitlyn and inform her that the puppies pooped and peed in the house and she needs to get up and clean it up. Which she does while muttering darkly under her breath (or breaking down and becoming semi-hysterical - depending on the day and the amount of sleep she's gotten). I've found all of this to be tremendously entertaining, although I have to say that I'm a little bit worried about the well-being of my future grandchildren. If there ever are any, that is.
A slam-bang, jim-dandy, eye-popping welcome mat
Just the other day, we received an amazing surprise in the mail. It was a long rectangular box. What could this be? we wondered. When we opened it, we discovered a welcome mat. And not just any welcome mat, but one made out of organic fibers (40% coconut fibers - or maybe it was bamboo?) that was emblazoned with the letter "B" (I'm assuming that was for Bindschadler). Where did this wondrous welcome mat come from, you ask? Apparently, it's what you get when you buy a new car from Precision Toyota here in the Old Pueblo. Now, there are some people who would consider this to be a "free gift." But I'm not one of them. For me, it's kind of like when you buy something on sale. Most people say things like, "I saved $15 on the shoes I just bought," and everyone around them ooh's and aah's about the great shoes and the money they saved. But really, they didn't save $15 (unless the store paid them $15 to take the shoes, which I seriously doubt). Maybe they didn't pay full price, but they still paid for the shoes, so they spent $55 (or $60, or $45, or whatever the shoes actually cost them). This philosophy of mine, by the way, is not widely accepted, and it tends to drive certain people crazy (such as my dear and lovely wife, who is often "saving money" for us by buying stuff). So for me, the "free gift" wasn't really free at all. In fact, it's probably the most expensive welcome mat I'll ever own.
Who's gonna drive you home?
Daughter #2 (Carrie) recently received her driver's permit, so I took her out for her maiden voyage. Luckily, we have some dirt roads right next to our house, so we set off in the Dodge Caravan for our adventure. And adventure it was. If you haven't had the opportunity to drive with someone for the first time, I highly recommend it. There's a lot of toe clenching, neck snapping, and steering wheel grabbing as you struggle to remain cool, calm and collected. It all took me back to the first time I drove. Unfortunately, my parents never took me out driving (I'm assuming that their experience with my older brother was so traumatizing they couldn't handle any more) so the first time I actually drove a car (other than those cars at Disneyland that run on a track) was with a driver's ed instructor and two other unfortunate student drivers (both of whom has been behind the wheel several times before this experience). I told him I'd never driven, but he assured me I'd be fine and took me out immediately on the busiest street in the city (Pershing Avenue). Luckily, this was Cheyenne, Wyoming, and the busiest street really wasn't all that busy, but for a small-town boy like me, it sure seemed overwhelming (mainly because there were other cars on the street) and the whole things was terrifying to everyone in the car. I also remember that at one point during this initial driving experience, a squirrel ran out in front of us and I slammed on the brakes, which the instructor informed me wasn't the prudent course of action ("Run over the squirrel next time!" he advised me). So all in all, all's well that ends well, and we made it back home safe and sound. Now we're just waiting for round two.
Guess that's it for this time, so until the next time this little rodeo rolls into town, may your catch-phrases remain catchy, may your bulls remain bullish, and may your lassos remain strong and untangled.
Apparently, people who have actually been to band camp are annoyed when someone who has not been to band camp (like me) and who finds the phrase, "This one time at band camp…" to be mildly (or wildly) amusing uses the phrase as a joke. But, like I just said, I haven't ever been to band camp, but I have now been to tech camp, and this one time at tech camp, they served snacks in the afternoon, and everyone was really excited by the snack display because… it was all yellow! People came rushing into the room where we were working on our projects and said things like, "You've got to hurry out and see the snack display! It's all yellow!" As in, they had yellow food (e.g. potato chips, pinapple chunks, yellow M&M's) and yellow plates and yellow napkins and yellow tablecloths. Seriously, it was the most excited I saw people get all week (except when they were raffling off prizes, of course). I guess I'm just a stick in the mud, because I didn't get what all the fuss was about, and I didn't even eat any of the yellow snack food - mainly because they feed you a whole lot at tech camp, and I was still stuffed from lunch that day. But I did wander out so I could check out the display, and I observed that it was indeed all yellow, and then I went back to work on my project. But I did (and still do) wonder, why yellow? Why not blue or red or green? Still don't have an answer for that one, and I probably never will. I guess it will have to remain one of those great mysteries of life.
Maternal Instincts
My oldest daughter is currently puppy-sitting for two strange looking little critters who are very spoiled and very demanding, and she's finding it to be quite a challenge. As in, she gets really grumpy when the puppies wake up "unbelievably early" in the morning (let's define "unbelievably early" here as anytime before 7:00) and whine, screech, yip, yap and make other "let us out of our crate" puppy noises that impel her to get out of bed and let them out of their crate. "Why do they have to be so loud?" she asks. "Why do they have to get up so early? If they'd just sleep till 9:00 or so, I could handle it." Anyway, she lets them out, then shuffles back to bed to catch some more shut-eye. Meanwhile, the puppies do what puppies do, which is (in addition to making lots of noise when Caitlyn wants to be sleeping) to poop and pee all over the house. Which Connor actually kind of enjoys, because whenever he finds evidence that the puppies have pooped and/or peed somewhere in the house, it gives him an excuse to go wake up Caitlyn and inform her that the puppies pooped and peed in the house and she needs to get up and clean it up. Which she does while muttering darkly under her breath (or breaking down and becoming semi-hysterical - depending on the day and the amount of sleep she's gotten). I've found all of this to be tremendously entertaining, although I have to say that I'm a little bit worried about the well-being of my future grandchildren. If there ever are any, that is.
A slam-bang, jim-dandy, eye-popping welcome mat
Just the other day, we received an amazing surprise in the mail. It was a long rectangular box. What could this be? we wondered. When we opened it, we discovered a welcome mat. And not just any welcome mat, but one made out of organic fibers (40% coconut fibers - or maybe it was bamboo?) that was emblazoned with the letter "B" (I'm assuming that was for Bindschadler). Where did this wondrous welcome mat come from, you ask? Apparently, it's what you get when you buy a new car from Precision Toyota here in the Old Pueblo. Now, there are some people who would consider this to be a "free gift." But I'm not one of them. For me, it's kind of like when you buy something on sale. Most people say things like, "I saved $15 on the shoes I just bought," and everyone around them ooh's and aah's about the great shoes and the money they saved. But really, they didn't save $15 (unless the store paid them $15 to take the shoes, which I seriously doubt). Maybe they didn't pay full price, but they still paid for the shoes, so they spent $55 (or $60, or $45, or whatever the shoes actually cost them). This philosophy of mine, by the way, is not widely accepted, and it tends to drive certain people crazy (such as my dear and lovely wife, who is often "saving money" for us by buying stuff). So for me, the "free gift" wasn't really free at all. In fact, it's probably the most expensive welcome mat I'll ever own.
Who's gonna drive you home?
Daughter #2 (Carrie) recently received her driver's permit, so I took her out for her maiden voyage. Luckily, we have some dirt roads right next to our house, so we set off in the Dodge Caravan for our adventure. And adventure it was. If you haven't had the opportunity to drive with someone for the first time, I highly recommend it. There's a lot of toe clenching, neck snapping, and steering wheel grabbing as you struggle to remain cool, calm and collected. It all took me back to the first time I drove. Unfortunately, my parents never took me out driving (I'm assuming that their experience with my older brother was so traumatizing they couldn't handle any more) so the first time I actually drove a car (other than those cars at Disneyland that run on a track) was with a driver's ed instructor and two other unfortunate student drivers (both of whom has been behind the wheel several times before this experience). I told him I'd never driven, but he assured me I'd be fine and took me out immediately on the busiest street in the city (Pershing Avenue). Luckily, this was Cheyenne, Wyoming, and the busiest street really wasn't all that busy, but for a small-town boy like me, it sure seemed overwhelming (mainly because there were other cars on the street) and the whole things was terrifying to everyone in the car. I also remember that at one point during this initial driving experience, a squirrel ran out in front of us and I slammed on the brakes, which the instructor informed me wasn't the prudent course of action ("Run over the squirrel next time!" he advised me). So all in all, all's well that ends well, and we made it back home safe and sound. Now we're just waiting for round two.
Guess that's it for this time, so until the next time this little rodeo rolls into town, may your catch-phrases remain catchy, may your bulls remain bullish, and may your lassos remain strong and untangled.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Five Weeks Worth of Foolishness
Question and Answer
Question: How does one know when it's been a really long time since one posted an entry on one's website?
Answer: When one goes to log in and add an entry, one discovers that one has forgotten one's password and has to be reminded of what it is so one can log in and add one's latest entry. So one sends in a request via the magic of the internet, and there is a nearly instantaneous response which involves some kind of database, one has to imagine, along with some type of an automatic response system, and within (literally) 30 seconds, one receives a message in one's mailbox telling one what one's password is so that one can go ahead and log in and start posting. Pretty amazing stuff, wouldn't you say?
Anyway, this might turn out to be one of those long and winding kinds of roads since we're covering 5 weeks of material, so consider yourself forewarned (and we all know, to be forewarned is to be forearmed, whatever that means).
Estes Park: Part 1
When we arrived on the eve of May 31, it was raining. And it was cold. And for the next week-and-a-half, it rained quite a bit. And it was (for us desert dwellers) cold (by cold, I mean the highs each day were in the 50's and at night it dropped into the 30's and there was one afternoon when I looked out the cabin window and saw these weird white flaky things blowing around through the trees - which turned out to be snowflakes). So we spent a lot of time playing board games and reading and doing puzzles and cozying up around the fireplace. And then it warmed up just a bit on the day of the EP marathon (high in the mid-60's) which was actually pretty comfortable temperature-wise. And I have to say that it's kind of cool to run a marathon that only has 104 participants. For one thing, parking really isn't an issue. I drove down to town about 1/2 an hour before the race and was still one of the first people there. For another thing, the lines for the port-a-potties are really short. For a third thing, you're pretty much guaranteed to finish in the top 100 (I wound up 54th). And finally, there's not much of a pause between the starter saying, "Go!" and you crossing the start line. In fact, there really isn't a pause at all. They say, "Go!" and you go. Imagine that.
Estes Park: Part 2
Things started getting difficult, though, right after crossing the start line. I was running along at a decent clip, but for some reason (perhaps because we were at 7,500 feet?) I was finding it difficult to breathe. But I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and barrelled through the first two miles, then turned to head up a four-mile uphill stretch that led to the high point of the course (just a smidge over 8,100 feet). As before, it was tough to breathe, but I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) because I was chugging along and starting to think, "Hey, maybe I can do a sub-four-hour marathon at altitude. Wouldn't that be cool?" And it all was okay to the top of the hill, when we veered to the right and headed back down towards town, at which point I figured I could pick up the pace a little bit since it wasn't so hard to breathe going downhill (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and then we ran along a river for a couple of miles and I saw my cheering section at around mile ten (mom, Katie, Carrie, niece - plus Connor, who was not part of the cheering section because instead of cheering for his father, he was sitting in a chair moping rather than cheering, because this was the "most boring thing he'd ever had to do. Ever."). And my pace was still pretty good to that point, but I was starting to feel fatigued, and I knew I'd better start taking some walk breaks soon or I was going to be in trouble. So I decided to take a quick walk break every mile and see how that went, and it was okay as we circled around the lake and passed the halfway point, but then we had to head up another couple of quick hills and my legs were dead and I was doing a lot more walking than I'd planned on. But I still held onto my pace through mile 18, but at that point I was facing another two-mile uphill climb and I knew I was done. I just couldn't breathe well enough to run uphill anymore. So I decided that I was going to enjoy the scenery, enjoy the beautiful weather, and not worry about my time, and I walked the uphills and ran the flats or downhills for the final 8 miles and was really, really glad when I reached the finish line (though not as glad as Connor, who had been rolling on the ground, moaning things like, "Torture. This is torture," because he was so bored of waiting for his father to finish the race - my niece was also less than impressed with my performance, because she kept asking, "Why is Uncle Brian so slow? Why are so many people finishing ahead of him?"). So I finished with my worst time ever, and my diaphragm was cramping and I was more than a little dizzy and had to pause to catch my breath every fifth step when I walked back to the car with Katie, but other than that, it was a beautiful course and a beautiful day and there's nothing wrong with being humbled just a bit every now and again.
Estes Park: Part 3
We still had another week in EP and the weather got quite a bit nicer, though it was still fairly cool. But we managed to get in several hikes and saw lots and lots of snowdrifts on the trails and took Carrie up Flattop Mountain, which really had a lot of snow - so much that Carrie and I both had completely soaked feet by the end (on the other hand, Katie, thanks to her magical Gore-Tex boots, was completely dry - which she pointed out at least 27,000 times on the trip down the mountain). And then we piled back into the car at 3:30 in the morning and drove and drove and drove until we finally arrived back in the Old Pueblo, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.
Rockin' and Rollin'
However, after only two days back in the Old Pueblo, I got up at 3:30 in the morning and drove to the airport, boarded a plane, and flew to Seattle with my Team in Training group for the Seattle Rock 'n' Roll marathon. And the weather there was cloudy and pleasant (although on the day of the race it was nothing less than beautiful - not a cloud in the sky and temps in the mid-70's). Contrary to the EP marathon (which, as mentioned before, had 104 participants) this one had 25,000, so things were a little different at the starting area - as in, it was really, really crowded, and when the starter said, "Go!" the only people who "went" were the elite runners way up at the front of the pack, and everyone else kind of stood around until they called for the next group to move forward and said, "Go!" again, and that group "went" and we all shuffled forward about 50 feet, and so on until, about 20 minutes after the race had started, our corral reached the starting line, and this time when they said, "Go!" we finally "went" (but the other 20 corrals behind us were still shuffling and waiting). And then on the course, there were actually people all around. And not just one or two, but lots and lots of people all around. But it was all good, and everyone in our group managed to finish (with a combination of smiles and tears), and I put in a lot of miles (35) and was really tired by the time it was all done (and wore out a pair of shoes). And along the course there were beautiful views of Mt. Rainier (from the Lake Washington Bridge and with the stadiums in the foreground) and also of the Seattle skyline, Puget Sound, Lake Washington, etc.). And then we got back on the plane and flew back to Tucson, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.
Speaking of which…
Running during monsoon season in Tucson is really, really tough. Because it's a wet heat, and sweat doesn't evaporate when it's this wet, it just sits there on your skin and soaks into your clothes and drips into your eyes and makes it look like you just got out of the shower. Plus there are all these little bugs that like to swarm around after it rains, and when you run through them, they stick to the sweat on your arms and neck and face and legs and they get in your eyes and get trapped between your teeth, so that when you finish, you look like a really wet, sweaty person who's covered in bugs. So that was pretty much what my run was like this morning.
And finally
We finally decided to get a new car, and after much searching and dilly-dallying, we got a Toyota Prius. So we now have four vehicles parked in and around our home, which is pretty ridiculous (though we are planning on selling one as soon as we can find a buyer). When I drove the car home and showed it to the kids, the response was unanimous. "This car is way too nice for us," they said. And it probably is. It's not a rusty 1989 pickup truck. And it's not a soccer-mom mini-van. Plus, it's got automatic windows and locks. Yow.
All right, my fingers are cramping and my brain is numb, so until next time (which will be sooner than 5 weeks from now, I promise), may your skies remain blue (unless you're praying for rain), may your roads remain uncluttered, and may your batteries remain fully charged. Happy Birthday, America.
Question: How does one know when it's been a really long time since one posted an entry on one's website?
Answer: When one goes to log in and add an entry, one discovers that one has forgotten one's password and has to be reminded of what it is so one can log in and add one's latest entry. So one sends in a request via the magic of the internet, and there is a nearly instantaneous response which involves some kind of database, one has to imagine, along with some type of an automatic response system, and within (literally) 30 seconds, one receives a message in one's mailbox telling one what one's password is so that one can go ahead and log in and start posting. Pretty amazing stuff, wouldn't you say?
Anyway, this might turn out to be one of those long and winding kinds of roads since we're covering 5 weeks of material, so consider yourself forewarned (and we all know, to be forewarned is to be forearmed, whatever that means).
Estes Park: Part 1
When we arrived on the eve of May 31, it was raining. And it was cold. And for the next week-and-a-half, it rained quite a bit. And it was (for us desert dwellers) cold (by cold, I mean the highs each day were in the 50's and at night it dropped into the 30's and there was one afternoon when I looked out the cabin window and saw these weird white flaky things blowing around through the trees - which turned out to be snowflakes). So we spent a lot of time playing board games and reading and doing puzzles and cozying up around the fireplace. And then it warmed up just a bit on the day of the EP marathon (high in the mid-60's) which was actually pretty comfortable temperature-wise. And I have to say that it's kind of cool to run a marathon that only has 104 participants. For one thing, parking really isn't an issue. I drove down to town about 1/2 an hour before the race and was still one of the first people there. For another thing, the lines for the port-a-potties are really short. For a third thing, you're pretty much guaranteed to finish in the top 100 (I wound up 54th). And finally, there's not much of a pause between the starter saying, "Go!" and you crossing the start line. In fact, there really isn't a pause at all. They say, "Go!" and you go. Imagine that.
Estes Park: Part 2
Things started getting difficult, though, right after crossing the start line. I was running along at a decent clip, but for some reason (perhaps because we were at 7,500 feet?) I was finding it difficult to breathe. But I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and barrelled through the first two miles, then turned to head up a four-mile uphill stretch that led to the high point of the course (just a smidge over 8,100 feet). As before, it was tough to breathe, but I ignored that (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) because I was chugging along and starting to think, "Hey, maybe I can do a sub-four-hour marathon at altitude. Wouldn't that be cool?" And it all was okay to the top of the hill, when we veered to the right and headed back down towards town, at which point I figured I could pick up the pace a little bit since it wasn't so hard to breathe going downhill (which, in hindsight, probably wasn't such a great idea) and then we ran along a river for a couple of miles and I saw my cheering section at around mile ten (mom, Katie, Carrie, niece - plus Connor, who was not part of the cheering section because instead of cheering for his father, he was sitting in a chair moping rather than cheering, because this was the "most boring thing he'd ever had to do. Ever."). And my pace was still pretty good to that point, but I was starting to feel fatigued, and I knew I'd better start taking some walk breaks soon or I was going to be in trouble. So I decided to take a quick walk break every mile and see how that went, and it was okay as we circled around the lake and passed the halfway point, but then we had to head up another couple of quick hills and my legs were dead and I was doing a lot more walking than I'd planned on. But I still held onto my pace through mile 18, but at that point I was facing another two-mile uphill climb and I knew I was done. I just couldn't breathe well enough to run uphill anymore. So I decided that I was going to enjoy the scenery, enjoy the beautiful weather, and not worry about my time, and I walked the uphills and ran the flats or downhills for the final 8 miles and was really, really glad when I reached the finish line (though not as glad as Connor, who had been rolling on the ground, moaning things like, "Torture. This is torture," because he was so bored of waiting for his father to finish the race - my niece was also less than impressed with my performance, because she kept asking, "Why is Uncle Brian so slow? Why are so many people finishing ahead of him?"). So I finished with my worst time ever, and my diaphragm was cramping and I was more than a little dizzy and had to pause to catch my breath every fifth step when I walked back to the car with Katie, but other than that, it was a beautiful course and a beautiful day and there's nothing wrong with being humbled just a bit every now and again.
Estes Park: Part 3
We still had another week in EP and the weather got quite a bit nicer, though it was still fairly cool. But we managed to get in several hikes and saw lots and lots of snowdrifts on the trails and took Carrie up Flattop Mountain, which really had a lot of snow - so much that Carrie and I both had completely soaked feet by the end (on the other hand, Katie, thanks to her magical Gore-Tex boots, was completely dry - which she pointed out at least 27,000 times on the trip down the mountain). And then we piled back into the car at 3:30 in the morning and drove and drove and drove until we finally arrived back in the Old Pueblo, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.
Rockin' and Rollin'
However, after only two days back in the Old Pueblo, I got up at 3:30 in the morning and drove to the airport, boarded a plane, and flew to Seattle with my Team in Training group for the Seattle Rock 'n' Roll marathon. And the weather there was cloudy and pleasant (although on the day of the race it was nothing less than beautiful - not a cloud in the sky and temps in the mid-70's). Contrary to the EP marathon (which, as mentioned before, had 104 participants) this one had 25,000, so things were a little different at the starting area - as in, it was really, really crowded, and when the starter said, "Go!" the only people who "went" were the elite runners way up at the front of the pack, and everyone else kind of stood around until they called for the next group to move forward and said, "Go!" again, and that group "went" and we all shuffled forward about 50 feet, and so on until, about 20 minutes after the race had started, our corral reached the starting line, and this time when they said, "Go!" we finally "went" (but the other 20 corrals behind us were still shuffling and waiting). And then on the course, there were actually people all around. And not just one or two, but lots and lots of people all around. But it was all good, and everyone in our group managed to finish (with a combination of smiles and tears), and I put in a lot of miles (35) and was really tired by the time it was all done (and wore out a pair of shoes). And along the course there were beautiful views of Mt. Rainier (from the Lake Washington Bridge and with the stadiums in the foreground) and also of the Seattle skyline, Puget Sound, Lake Washington, etc.). And then we got back on the plane and flew back to Tucson, where it was (and still is) really, really hot.
Speaking of which…
Running during monsoon season in Tucson is really, really tough. Because it's a wet heat, and sweat doesn't evaporate when it's this wet, it just sits there on your skin and soaks into your clothes and drips into your eyes and makes it look like you just got out of the shower. Plus there are all these little bugs that like to swarm around after it rains, and when you run through them, they stick to the sweat on your arms and neck and face and legs and they get in your eyes and get trapped between your teeth, so that when you finish, you look like a really wet, sweaty person who's covered in bugs. So that was pretty much what my run was like this morning.
And finally
We finally decided to get a new car, and after much searching and dilly-dallying, we got a Toyota Prius. So we now have four vehicles parked in and around our home, which is pretty ridiculous (though we are planning on selling one as soon as we can find a buyer). When I drove the car home and showed it to the kids, the response was unanimous. "This car is way too nice for us," they said. And it probably is. It's not a rusty 1989 pickup truck. And it's not a soccer-mom mini-van. Plus, it's got automatic windows and locks. Yow.
All right, my fingers are cramping and my brain is numb, so until next time (which will be sooner than 5 weeks from now, I promise), may your skies remain blue (unless you're praying for rain), may your roads remain uncluttered, and may your batteries remain fully charged. Happy Birthday, America.
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