Training Log Archive: barb

Fast for me. With Dave around Nahant.including some trails and little hills.

Today the ref didn't show up for Isabel's soccer game. Dave agreed to ref. Isabel and I (and Dave) were concerned that Dave didn't really know the rules. He did some last-minute boning up by asking us what the rules were, but Isabel was still concerned enough that she asked me to talk to the coach, and suggested that another mother might make a better ref. Dave did OK. There was some muttered disagreement about his calls, but he was so open about being new to it, and they were so desperate for a ref, that everyone was quite nice to him and the girls thanked him at the end. He had a big grin on his face the whole time. He said it was amazing to be watching the game from the middle of it, close up to where the girls were doing all their amazing moves. Better than the sidelines, and better than TV.

Today's impulse purchase:





Both Dave and Isabel were there, and they didn't stop me.

C • stilettos 11

Took 17 kids + 5 adults to George's Island.

We collected insects.





Then we examined them to try to figure out what order they each were.







Then we went orienteering. A couple of the control flags disappeared, and I was quite annoyed with the high school students who swarmed over the island. They were foul-mouthed, traveled in packs and now they'd taken two of my precious nine controls. (I need to put control flags on my Christmas list!) Later we figured out the rangers had taken down my flags, and I got them back.

school, work, home. Tomorrow I will take a class orienteering on a Harbor Island, and looking for insects.

Commute.

CSU Park-O at the arboretum (Peter's Hill). I actually ran, in spite of my blistered feet, so I guess they're healing.

The kids ended up with the advanced course map and completed it in spite of some tricky parts.

Hobbled again to the hot springs for some soaking. Still daydreaming happily back to the rogaine, which was TOTALLY AWESOME!

John and I camped at the Bagby trailhead last night. He wants to start a business catering to people living out of their cars, by choice. I told him he should try selling an instructional inspirational yoga video. It was funny at the time.

Peter and I played a game on the way to Oregon, where whoever found someone they knew first won. No one won. But on the way home I scored!

Terry Farrah was sitting in front of me on the flight from Portland to San Francisco! She was returning from Seattle. I had a couple hours in SF, so I went home with her, met her mom, had some dinner, and headed back to the airport. Thanks, Terry! It was great to see you!







Terry congratulated me on the rogaine, and said she was mildly surprised at how well we did because she'd been following my training log and noting that I wasn't living up to all my goals. :-)

We remembered that Terry was visiting last fall back when I was trying to get up the courage to ask PG to partner, or maybe it was when I was trying to get up the courage to read his email reply.

Hiked to Bagby hot springs and back to the trailhead/campsite. The hot springs are really cool, and I can't imagine why it's not a standard apres-rogaine thing to do! So here's the travel ad:

The hot springs are on forest service land, and maintained by the gov't. You just pay your $5 trailhead fee to park and walk 1.5 miles to the springs along a lovely trail through old growth forest with some HUGE trees.





Eventually you come in sight of the buildings housing the tubs.





The water comes out of a spring and is captured by open wooden pipes that run the length of the bath house.





You plug your tub with a wooden plug and fill it with steaming water:





There are a bunch of different tubs, big and small, more or less private. You use a bucket to add cold water to moderate the temperature. We sat in the big tub, and here is the coolest thing: we filled the bucket with cold water and slowly lowered it into the hot tub. The cold water stayed in the bucket, and I put my blistered feet into it. So there I was with my feet in cold water, and my body in hot water, and it was all the same water - wow!

Rest of the rogaine.

I ended up deciding to wear my heavy, stiff, cleated Ice Bugs. I wanted the spikes for the slopes and the stiff sole for the rocks. But I knew that it probably would mean serious blisters, and possibly reinjury to my Achilles tendon. I'm happy with the choice, but my feet got torn up pretty good; probably the worst blisters I've ever had. Even the Ace bandage made blisters on the top of my foot where it creased - but it may have saved my Achilles, which seems to be doing fine. I will try toughening up the feet by hiking in the shoes for a couple months next time.

I think I must have the record for person who has heard Peter cuss the most in a 12-hour period.

Sometimes at night in a rogaine I lose track of the identity of my partner; they become ghostlike to me or feel like an extension of myself. This time it was a little different. Peter was still somebody, but he drifted in and out of being other people; sometimes he seemed to be Orlyn, or Mark from Arizona, or someone else.

In the morning approaching 35 a friendly rogainer asked me if Peter was my dad. (I take that as a compliment to me and not a diss to Peter.) No, I said, he's not old enough to be my dad. Oh, says the guy. Is he your husband? No, he's my fucking rogaine partner. (OK, I didn't say fucking, but almost; at that point it was sort of part of the general vocabulary.) Can't a girl just be a rogainer?

After we finished I was exhausted. Peter helped me take down my tent, which had been saved from blowing away by a single stake. Then I laid down while Peter went to look for his tent. I was so thirsty. My water was several yards away, and it took me a while to muster up the energy to crawl over to it.

C • umm... 8