The combination of a post-boards/pre-work idle life and summer heat have meant many moments, or more correctly many minutes and hours, of a blank mind. It has even infiltrated my running. Sunday's long run on the Long Path had two stumbles recovered with high-stepping and bilateral arm windmilling, but it also had one actual fall where I landed in a knee plank skid. Infrapatellar fat pads have been a little whiny since then, which is to be expected for old lady knees. (Work them hard under their own volition, including steep hills and "fast" *cough* interval runs, and they are fine; but give them a tiny bit of external perturbation like a fall or special tests and they'll flare up). Usually when I fall, it means I'm either lacking enough energy/electrolytes or my brain is not paying attention. In this case, it was the latter. Pick up yer damn feet, lady.
Today I went for some hill repeats in the rain on the closer of my two usual hills. No traffic had been coming from the left when I last looked, but when I looked again the last traffic light had just turned green. I had plenty of time to cross anyways, but decided to wait in light of the rain. Halfway through my about-face I realized my left foot was not so firmly planted on a wide white stripe of road paint. Meaning, I realized such because I was falling. On the way down I prodded myself, Barely ten minutes into the run, and you haven't even gotten to the hill yet. Good one. I landed in semi-side sit, connecting with my right hand and the outside of my right knee.
Luckily I had plenty of time to recover and get out of traffic's way. The drivers undoubtedly saw the whole thing. How could you miss someone in a bright, construction site orange shirt when they randomly go from on to off their feet without any obvious cause? I had to constantly remind myself to focus on form, especially on descents. This Sunday is the Escarpment Trail Run, a 30k (~18 mile) point-to-point race in the Catskills that includes nearly 10,000 ft of cumulative elevation gain. For perspective's sake, both the Traprock 50k (~32 mile) and Bear Mtn 50 mile races were somewhere closer to 7000 ft of elevation gain. There are many points of going hand over foot or sliding down via your bum. Luckily the novelty of new races in new locations tends to keep me focused on the task. Gonna be popping a lot of salt pills to make sure I'm mentally in tact - pretty sure it'll take me something like four and a half hours for the 18 miles.
Side note: the Reese's phase continues, albeit morphed. Because I had the ingredients at home, suddenly there was pseudo-Reese's to fulfill the craving.
My latest read is John McPhee's The Random of Russian Art, which describes the search and recovery of underground unofficial, dissident Soviet contemporary art by Norton Dodge throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Apparently the guys has thousands upon thousands of their works, having grabbed them indiscriminately -- often more for the sake of the artists or the sake of the works' safety than necessarily out of liking them (though he did like many of them).
This part had me in absolute stitches...
Nancy Dodge has said of her husband: "Northin is a collector in all respects. Books. Magazines. Art catalogues. It's like living with the Sorcerer's Apprentice. If you clear a place it fills right back up."
But what isn't said is how this occurrence with collected items also takes place with any and all possessions of the collector. I won't mention any names as example, *cough*cough*...
Any of you out there bird watchers? I came across these two (or more?) birds in something of a heated argument while walking along the west side greenpath around 155th St. One was definitely in the tree, and one was tucked in the rafter beneath the Henry Hudson Parkway. The bridge bird was the only one I could actually see. Light green on top, white underneath, curved beak. Is this supposed to be a mating call? Sounds more like high pitches screeches and wails. Were I of this species I think I'd forgo the whole mating and procreation thing....
And all you techies out there -- I keep trying to embed my videos, but every time I copy/paste the embed coding it never brings up a video. Doesn't matter if I use new or old embed codes, and I've already enabled embedding in my blogger settings. Any ideas?
With the boards exam completed and in the bag, but work not starting until later this month (possibly early August, tbd), I have ample time to... well... I'm trying to figure that one out. It has become a rather simple life of twiddling my thumbs. I guess I've gotten used to having something to do with all my time.
I'd clean one little area, feel like I have momentum for the whole room, then suddenly wake up at my computer following race updates from the Hardrock 100 in the San Juan Mountains of CO. (Side note: The winner finished in just under 25 hours. Yes, 100 miles with 30,000 feet of cumulative elevation gain and thus 25 hours makes an elite -- elites race at an average 4mph. As I write this, more than half the entrants are still on course and working hard to beat the 48 hour finish cutoff.)
Yesterday I baked some muffins (2 parts whole wheat, 1 part coconut flour, 1 part flax meal). I eat them two at a time.
I also did a true core workout for the first time since January. Couldn't think of an errand that could be used to get in my walk for the day, so walked Nathan down to Columbus Circle, sent him on a train the rest of the way to work, and walked back to our local grocery store.
I pulled a thigh high stack of textbooks off my shelf with the intention of selling them, maybe using Amazon's "trade in" program. I also pulled a knee high stack of notes to recycle. My filing cabinet just found an entire drawer's worth of space.
I want to see Moonrise Kingdom, the latest Wes Anderson movie, but have to strategize for a day when I feel like seeing a movie before 10am, since that is apparently what now qualifies as a matinee in NYC. (Insert muttering.)
I've also had more time to hang with the worms. Merus is showing her goofiness all over the place these days, as evidenced by her cyclic relationship with Nathan's travel bag spanning yesterday and today. In order of occurrence:
Some day, when I am with paycheck and with access, I will have more pictures of lush greenery and blue sky and muddy feet/legs. For now, the worms will have to do. Urban outings just don't look appealing when the air quality haze is practically visible over the miserable city. Don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to September....
AAAHHHHH! I PASSED THE BOARDS!!! I have no idea what my score is, but pass/fail results are available online today and I PASSED!
Trust me, I'm a licensed doctor (of physical therapy). Hah!
I didn't say much following the actual exam because it was so absolutely wretched. I've never before left an exam so upset with myself and so angry and everyone and everything. I truly thought I had failed.
In fact, the whole process was so draining that I don't even have the energy to bounce around the room. Instead it is a celebratory sigh and slump in my chair, hands fixed on the sides of my face in disbelief. I almost don't know what to do with myself.
Then again, Sadie is whining for her breakfast. Guess I'll start there...
I normally don't drink iced coffee unless in something close to a heat wave. We've had a lot of those lately. Nathan's four little ice cube trays have seen more use in the last month than they ever have before. In that time I have found an average of one ice spike per week. It's such a random phenomenon that I get really excited about it. I saw the first ice spike in summer of 2006, perhaps one or two since then. So to have this many popping up in a row is totally awesome. I had another one this morning:
Conversely, in winter I get super excited to show off the ice on my literally frozen ponytail after coming in from a run. Nathan has learned respond to each situation with "That's cool" and a pat on the head. He used to respond with "Okay...?" only to get my wide-eyed-speed-talk "Butit'ssoCOOLit'slikeanEXPLOSIONinyourfreezerbutcontainedtoanICECUBE!"
Nerd. Yes. Proudly so. Don't even need to carry a card because its so evident. Put me in a social situation like a party and I clam up like you wouldn't believe. Give me ice spikes in my freezer and I'm bouncing off the walls in excitement.
I always hopied it was a more ballistic occurrence, where the still-liquid but expanding inner portion of the ice breaks through the frozen surface like a rocket. Turns out its a much calmer process. The surface ice forms from the perimeter towards the center. The inner, still-liquid portion gets forced through a small remaining hole, though slowly. Instead of running down the sides of the ice cube it freezes on the perimeter of the hole and produces a tube. It continues to grow until the tube freezes over.
Apparently this mostly works with distilled water, since usually the particulate present in tap water is enough to sustain the surface shape and disallow the expansion of a tube. But lo! For whatever reason, our tap water and freezer temperature and ice cube tray size is perfect to grow a little stalagmite once a week. Hazzah!
For those of you who are not blatant nerds but do like silly cats, here are the worms as they tolerate the heat:
Merus, whose nickname has recently progressed to Ru Bear. (This is always followed with a ba-dum-dum in my head, as a pun for rubor (latin for redness, used as a descriptor for inflammation. Yes, I am easily entertained.)
Sadie.
For the record, the drawer was pushed back about 4 inches and Merus went in on her own.
On a side note, this is how Nathan usually sleeps. "Why does my neck hurt?" Hmmm...
Merus could teach Olympic divers a thing or two about their tuck.
After Monday's exam (of which my mind has almost wholly erased from memory thanks to directly related post traumatic stress -- don't ask...) I was grateful to have a bus ticket out of town for 7:30 a.m. the next morning.
Hello, Auburn, NY!
My visit was filled with lush green country views, home-picked and homemade wild blackberry pie, a dozen (or possibly more) cats who each have a distinct personality and a variety of indoor/outdoor habits, a giant fruit salad that lasted days (at times with ice cream), reading for fun (!!) and, most importantly, meeting and getting to know the lovely and hilarious May, Nathan's mama. Her dry, sarcastic sense of humor had me in stitches the entire trip.
Her cats also had me in stitches. Like Binky, who has a version of the feline virus that Sadie and Merus have. But instead of eye drainage, Binky has full-on sinus congestion complete with wheezing, massive sneezes in 10+ quick consecutive reps (head tipped back with nose pointing up the entire time), and frequent goobers hanging off his nose and/or chin. He also has incredible comedic timing and is a total goofball. Call his name and he'd stop and stare at you with his mouth slightly open. I wish this video could at least have caught the wheezing...
We ran the Cazenovia July 4th Foot Races, specifically the 10 mile race around Cazenovia lake. The entire event was incredibly well organized, the perfect blend of a relaxed vibe but seriously respecting the parameters of the race. I wish more races were like this one.
I saw two triathlete looking women at the start whose pace I liked. If I kept them in sight throughout the race then I'd be happy with my results. One had trouble breathing in the heat. I managed to stay within 30 seconds of the other woman, who was continually cheered by name by all the spectators as we looped around the lake. What was raucous cheering for her turned into a few pity claps for me. Actually, to be fair, I got a handful of claps and high fives along the way (especially from a few women cheering a fellow woman -- hazzah!), but once we neared the last mile I was able to close the distance. I credit lots of task-specific downhill training. Turn the tables into arm wrestling or a pushup contest -- not to mention a swim or a time trial bike -- and I'd get beat to a pulp.
Anyways, Marybeth was obviously a beloved hometown hero. The locals didn't know what to make out of me. I chatted as I passed, giving her major props for her history of Iron Man races. As I neared the finish I found it odd that very few people were cheering us on. Maybe the leaders were so long ago that everyone is already over it? Just before turning the last corner I heard a guy yell "First woman!" Say WHAAAAT?!? Turns out Marybeth had been lead woman until I passed her. I had absolutely no idea. I hadn't even intended to go for the kill -- I just figured that getting a negative split (second half faster than the first half) would feel satisfying on a day with such heat and sun. Got my name in a local paper and everything. Full results here. Nathan also managed to go sub-8-minute mile without any training... as usual....
Also found out that Marybeth, at 42 years old, is good enough at Iron Man triathlons to qualify for Kona. Meaning, she's good. She is now on my list of personal heros. Like I said, my win was probably more circumstantial luck than anything else. But it does make it feel like more of an actual win, considering who I had to track down and pass.
What really excited me on the way home was that the race was a great excuse to have more pie for lunch. For dinner we made mashed kale and avocado salad to go with May's bbq pork chops, followed by the fruit salad of perfection and ice cream. I was in bed pretty early that night.
The next day Nathan and I toured the home and museum of William Seward, former senator and governor of New York as well as the Lincoln's secretary of state. We walked around the small downtown area and had lunch from Wegmans, the wannabe Whole Foods of local renown. That evening we saw the Auburn Doubledays' (single A short season) demoralize the Lowell Spinners by 10-1. They were super close to getting a no-hitter too. But then in the 8th inning the drunk guy sitting next to Nathan blurted out loud that the Spinners had no hits. Nathan was pissed, saying baseball superstition over something like that is legit enough that you just don't say it out loud. Ever. I shrugged it off. Not even one minute later and the Spinners had their first actual hit of the game. Nathan: "SEE??" Lesson learned, y'all.
A random tree outside of the Doubledays stadium:
My last day was a sweaty easy run in the morning followed by taping up dozens of small window panes in prep for painting. One of May's many volunteer efforts is to help renovate the Kase Mansion, former home of the man who invented the talking movie that is now owned by the neighboring church, into a home for veterans. Her portion is one of the many bedrooms. The bay window looked like stained glass a la newspaper.
Then it was a drive to Syracuse, lunch at a local diner, and the bus ride back to NYC. I was very sad to leave. The only thing that kept me from getting angry at everyone while negotiating Port Authority and the subways home was the thought of my two kittehs eagerly awaiting my arrival. I was welcomed home with meowing that continued for hours after feeding and triple-digit heat. Sad to be back in the city, but grateful for the mental relief of time away.
