Two years after we move in, we got our house-hunting wishlist item: the 2nd bathroom! I keeeed, I keeed.. The roof guys arrived today and tore off the old roof. Maybe two roofs, I do not know the progress report. I believe this means tomorrow is Happy New Roof Day.
This reminds me, I’m going to have to start prioritizing my snapshotting earlier in the day, what with these earlier sunsets.
Mr. T and I get to spend a whole lot of cash money this week on a new roof. They start tomorrow. Tonight, while I was attending to other obligations, he took down all our pictures. The walls, so bare.
I realized later today that all that anxiety from the week subsided as we met up with the entourage in Portland yesterday. So glad they were there. You’ll see a lot of those Real Runners using marathons as a metaphor for life and most essential of their platitudes is to have your own cheering section. Indeed. Special shout-outs to those who came along — sprizee, her dude, Mr./Mrs. Toad, Celeste & Ian, and my Mr. T. Your presence was priceless. I cannot thank you enough.
In the weeks before, I got countless crazy looks with comments along the lines of “I have never had that urge.” Never say that to a first-timer. You’re not helping. I mostly understand as I’ve thought that once upon a time myself. What led me to such a crazy idea of 26.2 miles? Well, about 8 years ago, I lost nearly a third of my body weight, partially due to running. I’d never run a full mile, even as a child, until I was 23. A year or two in, my motivation waned. I have never considered myself an athletic person. It’s a means to an end. I noticed if I signed up for 5K races, and later half-marathons, I’d practice and the rest fell into place. I also didn’t have to go hungry nearly as much. This is essential. I see her all the time; my inner fat girl is DYING to get out and take over the eating situations. Yes, I identified with Monica on Friends.
In April, I ran my 3rd half-marathon with a gaggle of pals on Whidbey. That was a great time, but the ending felt incomplete despite that fun finish with Uncle Tom cheering me to the end like a maniac. I knew it was time to step it up, but I had an upcoming surgery. For a month, I couldn’t work out under doctor’s orders and was stunned at the anxiety issues that surfaced. When the waiting period was up, I began training for the marathon. Signing up mentally, following a prescribed plan — that gets me out the door. It’ll get me up at 6 AM to run for 5 solid hours after I pay $100 for the privilege.
This morning, I was in the lobby at a quarter to start time where Mr. and Mrs. Toad saw me off before they headed back for Seattle. It took less than five minutes to get to the starting line. I stayed remarkably calm, despite the fact that waiting gives me time to think about what’s ahead, which = anxiety. Who needs to think? I’d rather just plug into the Shuffle, sing along with Walk Like an Egyptian (thanks, Debi!!) and maybe some Livin on a Prayer, then put one foot in front of the other until the end.
I started with the 4:30 group as there was some weird crowding near the 5:00 wave. We crossed the start 10 minutes after the gun after waiting for the faster groups to move ahead. I ran with 4:30 til nearly mile 18. Impressive, considering I thought it could take as long as 6 hours to finish, given my final practice run. It also rained HARD for an hour, despite the announcer saying in 20+ years, the most rain they had was scant. He paraphrased, “Let’s hope in this case, history is prologue.”
At the expo yesterday, I’d picked up a 5:00 pacing wristband and told the guy it was overly optimistic. I was thrilled I was hitting marks with time to spare. My energy was great through mile 13 and I was buoyed by my unexpected speed through the teens. Then, mile 17 hit with its big incline to St. John’s Bridge. I ran most of it, singing along silently to ol’ Eminem, and know people were bemoaning the hill, but I couldn’t hear much over my music in the solid rain. Somewhere between 18-20, my hands started swelling up. Real bad. I twittered, “Hey dr. Google why are my hands swelling Mile 21.” Ask and ye shall receive the advice to drink more. I did and it worked. Miles 23-26 were decidedly more upbeat than 19-22. The texts during those later miles were a boost, too.
I saw my people two blocks from the finish, yay. I crossed as U2’s In God’s Country started. I love that song. I finished in a little over 5 hours. Then I wandered the finishers area dazedly, navigating that final gauntlet of medal, pin, fruit section (took a pass), Creamsicle (NomNomNom), tree sapling (this is hippie-land Left Coast, after all), Finisher shirt, then the reunion area where my people awaited. I skipped the official portrait with my sapling as the lines were long and I figured I could ask sprizee if I really wanted it later. 🙂
Celeste and Ian offered to get me a pedi-cab, but I thought the wind-down walk to the hotel would be good. I was halfheartedly wishing for it in the final block.
We lunched at Kenny and Zuke’s Deli (NomNomNom – squared). I realized I’d die if I walked much more, so we drove home. I napped til Seattle. It was delicious.
We arrived in Portland mid-afternoon. After checking in at the Hotel Modera, we walked over to the expo, then met up with sprizee and her Dude.
For my pre-marathon dinner, we hit up Apizza Scholls on Hawthorne. The best pizza I’ve ever had, right there. This is the Bacon Bianca, with whole strips of bacon over fresh mozzarella. We also ordered a Sausage and Peppers pizza and a Margherita.
Fabulous, every moment of it. Then, we walked down the street to Jaciva’s Bakery.
On my way home (via Roadrunner Sports), I saw the popo at the 5-corner intersection near Greenlake. I wondered if they loved their bike beat situation, or hated it.
I’m planning to spend tonight a) packing and b) getting the music in order for Sunday.
At Target tonight, picking up odds and ends in preparation for this weekend’s marathon, I wandered to the Halloween section. Right behind it, I found all the Christmas lighting set up. It’s a little under 3 months away! Crazy.
I am in panic mode for Sunday. This too shall pass.
Like trivia, I made it to bowl with my team for the 2nd week in a row. Next week, probably not — so even though I wasn’t feeling the drive to the Eastside, I went ahead.
Oh, hey, trivia for the second week in a row! And motomotoyama introduced me to the Quiznight site yesterday, so we might start investigating additional options. I <3 trivia. I pretty much have a degree in it.
At trivia, I drank way too much diet Coke too close to my bedtime. Alas. Tomorrow will be rough.
As seen in Fremont while walking to pick up my takeaway yesterday.
I ran a ton of unexciting errands tonight, so today’s most notable event was fabulous dinner. My sandwich obsession continues. I’m trying to use up our basil before the temperatures drop, so we had caprese sandwiches: buffalo mozzarella, basil, tomatoes on La Brea baguettes. I’m on the hunt for another basil recipe as we have at least two to three more meals possible.
Or so kiddeth the Valet at Pacific Place as two of his colleagues hovered nearby this vintage Benz. I was handling some bizness at the Mothership on Sunday afternoon and caught this on my way back to the parking garage.
Shortly afterward, I went home to spend 3 hours reading in the backyard. And documenting the garden.
After my 8-miler, Mr. T fired up the grill for salmon. Then, we caught Burn After Reading in the U-District. I didn’t know much going into the show and was wildly amused by both George and Brad.
One of our favorite restaurants is Bizzarro in Wallingford. We haven’t been eating out as much — thanks to Summer garden successes and other catered meals — and last week, Mr. T nominated Bizzarro after a household carbo-loading planning discussion. It’s a little pricier than a daily spot, but justified whenever I start to fantasize about their fig-gorgonzola-red-wine-reduction starter. I’d been thinking about it for days. I was also looking forward to their spicy puttanesca.
Note to self: make reservations. Then you won’t be disappointed a place is unexpectedly closed for a private gathering.
We went to another pasta place 2 blocks away. Paled. The service was really good, so I won’t call ’em out here.
Tonight, my new bowling team played at Sun Villa, in Bellevue. Most of the folks participated in last season’s Underdog kickball team. I overheard that they were previously called “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Gutter.” Someday, I’ll re-purpose that.
Already, I’ve forgotten my score. I got several spares, so maybe I got close to 100? Certainly outperformed last year’s Gutter Fabulous average.
For months, a friend and I have talked about hitting up a trivia night. Well, this week was finally it. We met at a place not too far from my neighborhood and joined an established team, thanks to Mer. Sadly, we were not the most triumphant. We placed third, only 2 or 3 questions short of the winner.
If only I’d known the name of the Jewish month that was also the name of a river in Sweden that was also the name of a car (missing a letter). Or maybe the author of “Death in Venice.”
Once upon a time, preschool-aged twins lived down the street. They had Dino (a Green T-Rex) living in their bushes. They moved away a year ago. The new homeowners found a suitable tenant: The Giraffe. He set up residence over the weekend.
This month’s book: Catch-22. I wish I could say I could get into it. Maybe I did 140 pages? Not sure. Most of the group did not make it through the book either, but 2 watched the movie (I started suggesting that weeks before).
We met at Keaver’s, in West Seattle. He has a great view of downtown. This was my drive-by shot as we were headed out the door.
Shortly before the 20-miler, I realized I wanted replacement running shoes. The old ones’ right shoe picked up a squeak. This annoys after mile 1. Srsly.
I stopped at my local running shop for a new pair. Turns out they’d discontinued my beloveds. Bummer, as it’s a model that didn’t blister my left foot. (The right foot? Rarely an issue.) I’ve sadly learned these do not have the old magical non-blistering powers, despite being ultra-cushiony and not unlike walking on clouds.
Mr. T suggested more break-in time, though I’ve learned over the years that you shouldn’t have to do that. I gave them a week, or 36 miles. Tonight, I changed a variable in one final attempt and ran 4 miles. For once, both feet are wounded. Boo. I shudder at possible permanent damage given the mileage I’ll do through October 5.
They go back tomorrow, before the weekly long run (12 miles). I may go back to the old squeaks for the occasion. I can’t hear ’em with the iPod going.
Yesterday’s hecticness? Rolled all the way through until 6 AM this morning, when I pulled up to home.
I napped for four hours and kept myself awake by running errands. Downtown, I planned to exchange jeans. I did not plan for this coat sidetracking. I blame sleep deprivation for making this color decision seem so monumental. Both came home, only one should stay.
Today started out hectic and does not look to slow down soon. I was able to steal away a few moments to pick up an order of Fried Chicken from the Skillet Street Food outpost down the street. Lawd, this was good stuff. I nearly ordered the fries (poutine-ized), but when the gun fired, chose the salad. Good thinkin’ as the fries might’ve sent me over the edge.
Tonight, I dined al fresco, at La Casa del Mojito with Debi as the Summer sun set. She ordered their signature steak AKA Parilla de Luigi, while I tried Pollo a la Parilla — a grilled half chicken, with tostones, beans, and rice. A little piece of heaven right there, I tell ya. Bonus: the men who run the place and bring your food — hot. Not to mention, friendly. If you’re into that.
Let the record also show that Debi is a native Floridian. She testifies they serve some of the finest Latin available anywhere. Doubt her at your peril.
I hear there’s a U-District location now. The Roosevelt one suits me jest fine.