Results are in...

Yesterday, I got a call from my friend Kenny up in the North Woods. Kenny is homeless when he lives in Austin, but up in the North Woods he lives in an ice shanty he built himself. The shanty is in the middle of a lake, but don't worry, the lake is covered in three feet of solid ice, so Kenny's perfectly safe. Kenny fishes each morning and that very morning, he had fresh Walleye for breakfast.

Kenny walked all the way from his ice shanty to the little shop in the nearby town so he could call me and ask me how I did in the "big race". (Except for my daughter, no one in my family has even asked me about the race, but, Kenny has felt like family since I met him.)

Like Kat, I'm proud of my running and my racing. When I ran 20 miles for the first time, I told everyone I saw including the folks who work the coffee bar at Whole Foods, my neighbors (the little guys next door are 3 and 6 and they were very impressed), and all my friends.

I checked the detailed results for the half marathon, and while I knew I did well, I learned that I did extremely well. I came in 83rd in my age division which I'm at the very top of, so some of those ladies are about 4-5 years younger than little old me.

My time: 2:04:04
Average finish time: 2:22:19
Minutes per mile: 9:25
(Last year, I averaged 11:30 minutes/mile for the marathon. I attribute this to all those late night runs around the lake.)
When Kat and I ran 12 miles the weekend before the race, we finished in 2:11.

On race morning, I was worried about not sleeping well, about having such a crazy week behind me, about the cold, the crowd around the starting line, and how I start off really fast and don't find my best pace until about mile 3, so my race mantra was: Do your best right now, girl and have fun.

My half marathon medal hangs by my front door but the real benefits of running are always with me during and right after a run. It just makes me feel good.

Hills, Roadtrips and Truckstops

On V-day I got a call from one of my favorite Seattle pals, Meg, who told me her daughter and her daughter's best friend were on a road trip, they'd already driven from Seattle to Las Vegas and San Diego and all the places between, they were now in El Paso and were heading to Austin. I left a key out for them in case I wasn't back from dinner when they arrived. I got home late but the travelers had not arrived. The next morning I learned their 87 VW had broken down in far west Texas. A helpful trucker let them use his phone and call a mechanic. They slept in the car at a truck stop, gotten the car fixed the next morning and were now, once again, headed to Austin.

Now, some might raise their eyebrows at the idea of two young women sleeping in their car in a truck stop, or heading out on a 3 week road trip across the country, but as a former traveler myself, I found it a hopeful sign. The spirit of these girls would not be tempered by the local shopping mall, after all, these girls are adventurers. In addition, they are resourceful, intelligent, brilliant and beautiful. They are managing things incredibly well and are having mad adventures.

My scheduled visitor arrived Thursday and when we returned from Kat's reading and dinner, the roadtrip girls were at my house and full of stories. We stayed up til the wee hours as the four of us traded roadtrip stories from our days in cars, on trains, and on foot. We told about our near misses, the sudden turns of fate, the friends we met, the places we saw that wouldn't have ever seen otherwise. The young adventurers slept well, and didn't rise until late the next afternoon. After a little exploring around Austin, they were feeling restless again and headed off to the next place. I was sad to see them go, but they have places to see and people to meet.

I had a great visit with my friend, we saw a terrific play by Adrienne and company of St. Idiots, hit most of the local thrift shops and caught up on good talks.

This morning, I rose early to meet Kat and Gina for the half marathon. We all did great, setting new personal records, but mostly we had a great time. It was hard, more hills than I believed possible over 13.1 miles, but the weather was perfect. I even had a fun little surge at the end, and picked up speed and ran in as fast as I could, though I'm sure I wasn't looking as cool as I felt.

We went back to the marathon later to cheer for our friends running the full marathon. I love seeing the look on the faces of the runners when they realize they only have three more blocks to go. They know they're going to do what they came to do. The runners aren't all trim and muscle, some are thin, some are well padded, some are natural looking runners, others seem to struggle. They are old, young, middle aged, just a nice mix of regular people. Some smile, some grin, some have a determined stare, some start crying as they get closer and closer to the finish line. All of them are winners.

Finished the day with a crazy game of soccer in Ramsey park. A chance to run around and be stupid and catch up with some of my favorite Austin people.

This Sunday has been one of the best in ages. It caps a week of weeks. Friends, those who have to drive a few hours to come for a visit and those who live right here, are the best thing in the world.

Saturday

Woke early for that 6 a.m. pick up from Kat. Ran 12 miles, and it went by fast. It didn't feel like 12 miles. It just felt good. Last year, running 12 miles was a bit harder. I give thanks for discovering that I love these long, quiet runs, early in the morning, with occasional outbursts from the ducks, the coots and the crazy rooster who lives at the canoe rental place. When I started running, almost 2 years ago, the time running alone and with the group gave me time to sort things out, find my center, find some peace. I may have to cut back a bit after the half marathon as I am still losing weight and athletes shouldn't be a size 2. I don't want to cut back on my running though, thank goodness Central Market is giving out so many chocolate samples this week.

This morning, the coots were chattering like crazy. All huddled in the water on the east side of the trail, catching up on things, having a coot meeting, something. It was funny to hear their little chat session. As for our discussion while running, we reflected on Valentines day a bit and how much emphasis is placed on one kind of love, the romantic kind. Despite the other kinds of love, the deep abiding love of a good friend and the complete, proud and giddy devotion to your child, and despite the truth that in matters of the heart it is just as romantic and hopeful to walk away when you've given all you can and seek what's next.

I finished a big pile of paperwork yesterday and now can devote my Saturday to Roadside, Texas. I'm utterly charmed by Barney and Herb, two souls who haven't lost their curiosity and love for life.

Two things you might want to do today:

1. Central Market is giving away lots of chocolate samples this week. I sampled about 6 types yesterday. I love that about Valentines Day, rich dark chocolate with raspberries, and this crazy dark chocolate with just a touch of chocolate liqueur that the sampler told
   me I could have as much as I wanted. He winked at me and handed me some for the road.
   
   
2. Vote for Kat on the Austin Move awards page. She deserves to be there. She motivates and inspires many people, she works hard, and she won't take "no" for an answer. That my friends, is a powerful combination of attributes. Here's the link.
   

what makes a day

Yesterday after a morning of paperwork and finances with Kat, I headed to Quacks to meet Kat and do some more work. Just as I was getting out of my car, I was accosted by a homeless man who told me his story. He was just out of the hospital, only a month to live, do I have any spare change? Now, I know spare change won't buy him any time if he really has just a month to live. It will almost buy him a beer and it's a start towards a $5 bag of crack. Not only did I not have any change, I decided long ago that I don't want to give out change. There's something about giving someone a dime that just feels ugly to me. I told the guy I had a blanket in the car, and if he went to Trinity I'd see that he got his prescriptions paid for, etc. He turned on me and told me I know nothing about life and death and what it's like to be in the hospital. To him, I'm just some lady with a car and a laptop about to buy a nice cup of tea. He scolded me as I walked in, mumbled at me about how I had no idea what it was like to be dying. I told him he was right, "I don't know a damn thing about death." (Kat said I should have showed him my scars, but that would have required taking off my shirt and I didn't see the point in that. ) I felt guilty and defiant at the same time. He was unpleasant, but I'm sure he felt like crap and hated me just for being who he thought I was.

This morning, on the ritual Saturday run around Town Lake, I saw my friend Homer. Homer who is a regular at the shelter. Homer who gives me a hard time while he's making jokes with me. Homer who teased me about gaining a little weight over the holidays and then the next week told me I needed to eat more. Homer who rides his bike around town and meditates when things get too much for him. Homer who always tells me he's never seen me running around the lake even though he's there every Saturday morning cause he lives there. This morning, around mile 9, I saw Homer walking toward the path from the woods. I yelled out to him and waved and he looked up and gave me the biggest grin "Hey, Stacy, It's you!, Go Stacy!" In that little moment, there was a shift and my day was made. Seems too simple.

correction

The final tally came in and we counted 1,970 homeless Austinites. It's a record.

Yesterday, at Trinity, I was reminded again that being around people who love you and doing something simple and quiet can turn things around. K., S., and I worked on a 500 piece puzzle, we didn't care about the puzzle, we just wanted to sit and put the pieces together. K. told stories, S., silent as always, just nodded occasionally and smiled. I listened, and as the puzzle came together, I started to make a little sense of what's going on in my life right now. K told me Trinity is his "island of sanity". I don't think he realizes that it's the same for me.

I'm also really enjoying the class at UTFI. I presented today. As I went over my background, I remembered all that I went through to make my first film. Most of it was internal, confidence, giving myself as much time and heart as I had to other filmmakers, and taking the leap of faith in myself. The students are great, they have amazing ideas and enthusiasm, I look forward to seeing what they come up with!

one horse dies

A friend sent me a link to this article in the NY Times.

I'm not the only one feeling sad about the death of a horse I didn't know.

I know, okay? There is no logical reason to feel sad about Barbaro's death...and yet as this article suggests, maybe it's not Barbaro, maybe it's because of every horse is pure of heart.

Yes, I did tear up during the Flicka trailer, (the new one, the one that will probably be completely stupid) and even though I've seen it many times, I always cry during Old Yeller, and yes, even though I've read it several times, I'm sure I'll cry again the next time I read Where the Red Fern Grows. Actually, I'm glad these things still get to me. I hope they always do.

Back to work...back to prepping for my class and logging and editing Roadside Texas and writing the next new thing and getting JOB sold and completing a freelance assignment and sorting through the stack of paperwork on my desk.

born to run

I am not a fan of horse racing, I'm a fan of running horses and Barbaro was born to run.

I don't want to think about the ethics of using animals to make money, pushing them through race after race, or the money spent to try to reconstruct them so they can at least be used for stud purposes, but one can hardly help thinking of all of that.

Barbaro's x-ray is not unlike mine, a rattletrap, train track of rods and pins.

Let's hope that we all learned a little something from Barbaro, more than that he was a fine racehorse, maybe that we have to be a little easier on the fast runners.

counting

Last week volunteers turned out all over Austin to count homeless people. We looked everywhere, in cars, parks, creeks, down little paths behind grocery stores, and even in ritzy neighborhoods. It's invasive, certainly, but without counting as many people as we can, funding is cut.

All in all, we counted 1700 homeless people. We didn't get them all, the homeless are good at hiding, most don't want to be found, they could be anywhere, in your neighborhood even. I saw some on my run Saturday morning, sleeping by the lake in puffy sleeping bags, peaceful as could be. I see them on my run through my neighborhood, too.

There was some concern among my friends that counting the homeless is dangerous work. I guess that is the fear of the unknown, the devil you don't know. It isn't dangerous. I know quite a few homeless people and I'm not threatening, and I'm not afraid. Traffic, shopping malls, litterbugs, and people with big egos scare me, not homeless people.

We came bearing socks, thick, white tube socks. When we were someplace we knew someone was sleeping, an alley, a church patio, a hidden area behind a store, we left socks they could find later, a little surprise.

I ran into some old friends who promised to come and see me on Wednesday, but I didn't find that one friend that I keep looking for. I haven't seen J.P. since last Christmas Eve. He disappeared, no one has seen him in months. Before he was homeless J.P. was a photographer. When we became friends, I'd bring my camera and after my shift we'd go out and take pictures together. He could read the light, no meter necessary. "Try a F8 at 11." "This looks like an F16 to me."

I still miss him.

out into the world

For the past two days our Mailman hasn't made it down Rosedale Avenue. I know they said, "through snow, and sleet and freezing rain", but that was before Netflix and junk mail, neither are worth risking injury.

• I've captured and logged all the footage we shot for Roadside. I'll have DVDs for the other producers by Friday. The footage looks beautiful. We shot on a Panasonic at 24p, entirely handheld. Our DP, Holly Brunkow, is tiny and strong and has a great eye.
  
  
• I hooked up the Epson V750 Pro negative scanner I bought with a friend, to my Macbook and have been scanning negatives. I miss printing film the old fashioned way; watching the image emerge in a dark room, playing with time and exposure, all the while listening to a talking heads/squirrel nut zippers/handsome family mix someone put in the stereo. Still, I'm amazed at what this scanner knows to do and I'm only beginning to learn how to tell it what I'd like it to do. This is much better for the planet, too, I just need to turn the lights down and put some music on when I scan.
  
  
• The cats have been inside all during the snowy icy week and are completely bored with it all. Tux fancies himself a techie and likes to sit in my office chair while I capture footage. Now that it's over there is nothing interesting for him to watch and he seems confused by that. (If I were a better cat owner, I'd put a movie on for him.) Nara has been needy and clingy, as usual. (I'm sorry I'm not a better person, Nara.) Right now, the cats are playing with all the cords under the desk, not good.
  
  
• As for the dogs, I'm not sure their world has been all that different this week. They eat, they sleep, they drink water. Good Buddhist dogs.
  
  
• I finally got a run in yesterday. I ran to the Central Market track and ran around it 9 times, a total of a little over 6 miles. It was my first run since last Thursday and it felt amazing. The half marathon is only a few weeks away, I need some cold weather practice. I still refuse to run in the rain, life is too short for that.
  
  
• Today, I start a new job of sorts. I'm going to be a producing mentor at UTFI, many thanks to my new friend Megan for recommending me. This will get me out of the house more and it will be big fun.
  
  
• I'm also happy to report that I have a little article published in Filmmaker magazine. I had a goal last year of being published in a larger market than my freelance work allows and getting a byline for real. I heard it might happen just before Christmas, but because I didn't even get the article in until mid December, I wasn't sure they'd be able to get it in the Winter07 issue. If you want, you can read it here.
  
  
• Today feels like the beginning, rather than the middle of the week. Tonight is Kat's mentored screening, which I promised I'd attend, then a party. It will be nice to be out and about.
  

getting something new

Early morning, Dec.31, 2006, I picked up Kat to go for an 11 miler, it was cold, so we sat in the car with the heater blasting while we talked ourselves down to 10 miles, then 7. Then we drove around Austin until the sun came out a bit more and our world got warmer. When we finally struck out on the trail, it was after 7. A light fog floated just above the water, the sky was a dusky gray. We ran for about 2 miles, and that was that. We walked the rest of the trail. A good way to end a year, I think. Go out gracefully, doing what feels right.

I cleaned house for the rest of the day. Almost every room was cleaned top to bottom, freshened up, dusted and uncluttered. Closests and drawers were emptied, tidied, and purged in a ritual blast of year-end energy. This was something I planned to do at the end of every year, but I've been slacking in the 2000s. Not this year, this year I jolly well did it and when I walk through the rooms, they feel different, better, like they are waiting for new stuff.

Later, good friends and good food and talk about books and writing. As the year turned, I was outside looking at the stars, making some wishes and giving thanks for seeing another year.

I spent most of the first day of 07 in my pjs, working, catching up, writing, thinking about that boy I locked eyes with the day before. It was cold and I wanted a good run, but I kept putting it off, like the day would last forever or something.

Finally, around 5, I put on some layers, including a favorite long underwear top found in my cleaning blitz, and headed out to the trail near my house. It was cool and clear and the trail was nice and muddy. There were puddles to run through and jump over and friendly walkers who waved and wished me happy new year. I remembered why I needed this, and I didn't want to stop. What I thought was going to be 4 miles, turned into 5 and then 6 and I only stopped there because it was getting dark. For a short time in my teens, I had a horse and we'd ride through the woods. As I grew up, there were hikes and walks and then one crazy day I got on the back of a boy's motorcycle and decided that was my new favorite way to get out of town, until it wasn't anymore. Now, it's simpler, all I need are my shoes. I wish I'd discovered this running thing years ago.

I'm thankful for 2006. A big year, a full year, but aren't they all? I learned when to let go and when to hang on. I lost things I didn't need anymore: about 20 pounds, 2 or 3 sizes and some crazy ideas I had started believing. I found things I thought I had already but really didn't: confidence, independence, fun. We lost my grandmother, and Kayse, and found once again how important it is to not take life or people for granted. We miss them both and will for a long time, yet both of those ladies gave us so much that somehow it doesn't feel like they've gone. There have been family health scares and they all seem to be settled now. Sam is not going back to Iraq and Ace loves college. Much to be grateful for.

I'll miss Leo and Molly, two of the most loyal, loving creatures I've ever known, and I'll miss James Brown, Ann Richards, Altman, and Red Buttons, too.

As the first day of 07 ended, I felt happier and more grateful than I have in a very long time.

I wish the same for you.

my grandfather

During my 10 mile run this morning, I was thinking a lot about my grandfather and some of the things he used to tell me. He died 12 years ago, and I don't care if it sounds crazy, but yeah, we still talk. He was a tiny man, barely 5'3" with a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step.

He loved to read and I have several of his books here in my house including, Kundera's, The Art of the Novel, The Complete Works of Eudora Welty, The Writer's Handbook from 1988, The complete poems of Robert Service, and The Mier Expedition Diary, among many others. I still have a dog eared copy of Volume 1 of the American Heritage New Illustrated History of the United States, The New World that he gave me many many years ago. He thought everyone should know their history.

He passed the CPA exam on the first try, and only years later did he get his college degree by taking a class at a time, mainly literature and writing courses. He loved it when I worked on the literature titles at Holt, Rinehart and Winston.

He was too short to serve in WWII and he had too many kids by then, so he became a master cartographer. My grandmother's cousin, Audie Murphy, brought enough WWII action to the family anyway, I guess.

Here's some of the things I remember my grandfather telling me:

On what you want to do with your life:
"You can do anything you want as long as you're willing to work for it. You have to sit down and do it though, dreams will get you thinking, hard work will get you there, just love what you do and bring honor to everything you put out in the world."

On travel:
"Go, go and see the world. You'll find it's bigger than you thought and smaller than you thought at the same time. Be friendly and respect everyone you meet."

on family:
"Make us proud and know we'll always love you no matter what, no matter what."

On love:
"Life is going to throw you some curves, if you're going to be with someone on those curves, they need to be sweet to you, if they can't be sweet to you, it's gonna make things a lot harder, so don't even start off with 'em."

That's what I was thinking about during my run.

today

Today was an excellent day and I can say no more about why...but because of this day, I waited too late to go for a run. I went anyway, of course. I'm not always smart, but I'm almost always determined. I decided to go to the Town Lake trail even though it was cold and dark and getting colder and darker.

When I arrived, the parking lot was pretty empty. The smart people ran earlier or just stayed home. I was starting to talk myself into going back home, when I saw a big herd of runners wearing matching warm weather running clothes. I dashed after them. It's good to run near a group at night.

They lost me pretty quickly and I don't remember when I last saw them, or where they went, I just know I didn't pass them. Except for the occasional solo runner and a few bundled up walkers, I was pretty much alone. It was just after 6 p.m., but it felt like 8 or 9.

I know it's not good to run at night, especially when it's cold, especially on a dark trail where you can fall and sprain something. Still, this one time, it was what I needed. Have a little too much on your mind? Get outside when it's just way too cold and windy, and your mind gets nice and clear.

Back at home, I worked on my deadline, made progress.

P.S.
I'm thinking of my homeless friends on this cold night. The shelter fills up fast. Homeless women don't have any options after the Salvation Army beds are taken. If you're interested in working in one of the emergency cold weather shelters or if you have some warm things to donate, contact Front Steps.

i am home

I am home. I am a happy Texan.

Saturday morning began with a 10 mile run with my old marathon training team, TexFX. I wasn't sure I could do it, I hadn't run since L.A. and I came home with sniffles. The morning was bright, cool, clear and beautiful. Being up early running around the lake just feels good. Though I was tired and the morning was cold, I was so happy to be home again in this city where we still have plenty of trees, some good cleanish air, and a pretty path around a lake that a girl can run on a Saturday morning.

There are certain parts of the trail that are my favorite. While Kat doesn't like running over the Long Horn Dam, I like it almost as much as I like far East side of the lake. The east side is less traveled and the landscapers don't spend much time there, so it's wilder and less kept up. I can't resist running through a pile of leaves when I see one to run through. I made it all 10 miles and at the end, I didn't even feel sore. (This was not the case this time last year when I asked mu teammates when I might stop feeling so sore after each run, and I meant immediately after, not just the next day.)

Last night we had a rousing filmmaker gathering at the Driskoll bar. I tried really hard to tell the bartender how to make an Italian Valium, but did not succeed, so I settled for my usual glass of overpriced red wine. It hit the spot just fine.
I saw people I hadn't seen in ages, people that I've emailed and called, folks I've been reading about. They all wondered how the screenings went, whether the Storie team was tired and how we were holding up.

In all, the screenings and the trips were great. It reminded me of when I was in college touring Europe with a backpack, sleeping in a new place almost every night, exploring, visiting, on the journey.

More later on the details, the short story is that we learned much, we made some great contacts, and as usual, there is follow up work to do. This time, however, new doors are open to us and we'll be spending the next few months, here in Austin, while we get ready for what's next.

Last night, walking back to the car, a man wheeled up to us and left me with much to think about. His upper body was all bundled up in blankets and he had no legs at all, he was perched on his chair precariously. When he asked us for change, I was so taken aback I couldn't respond and he graciously said "God bless you all" and wheeled away. Like most of the homeless I know, he was understanding of those of us who have more than enough and can't be bothered to stop for a moment and see him. A spot-on example of going through the world with dignity and grace, and a reminder to me to step out of my own thoughts long enough to see him next time.

I'm off to do baby duty again. I found little Jessie a onesie that reads "Future President" and Lane gets his own D.C. shirt, too. I'm bringing cocoa, marshmallows, pizza and bubbles. It's gonna be quite an evening...

marathon frenzy

Last night's screening went really well. We had a nearly full house, we got pizza during the screening. We got some good feedback and I met some really interesting people. I love Ray and Tom of the Pioneeer, they are pro's and also very sweet guys who love film. Afterwards we went out for drinks with a lot of Kat's friends, some shared friends and one of our new favorite people, Paul Davis, of Calleri casting. The music was too loud, but hey, that's New York.

Kat headed back to Austin around 11 and I headed over with Karen, Ralph, Mike and Jackie to watch the NY marathoners run down Bedford. I love watching the runners and cheering them on. I love to catch their eye and get a wink, I love seeing their face light up when you call their name (many of them write their name somewhere on their body or clothes).

I did see Lance with the "Lance-cam". He maintained just under a 7 minute pace for the marathon and finished 30 seconds under three hours. Lance is inspiring, all of them are.
The biggest battle isn't physical, it's mental and emotional. Whatever the goal, finishing in a certain time, at a certain pace, or just finishing, you'll be tested.

To the man in the wheelchair who didn't have any arms and used his feet to propel his chair down the street, and the runner without legs who ran on prosthetics: Thank you. Seeing you both brave 26.2 miles reminds me of why it's important to take risks and find your way around the obstacles. I hope I would be as brave. (Having almost lost my arm, seeing you two also gave me much needed perspective about a comment someone made once that has haunted me off and on for a few years... it doesn't sting any more.)

scramblin over rocks

A good weekend.

On Saturday, I ran the "Toughest Race in Texas". I think they are exaggerating a bit, but it is a tough course through trails, up and down hills, through rocky patches and sand. I had a nice, steady pace and came in 11th in my age group, which was kind of nice. Mostly though, it was just a great way to start the day. I felt confident and grounded all day, I'd made it up and down a lot of hills and remained upright and for me, that was a first. Not a skinned knee or elbow, not even a slight ankle twist.

Other people weren't so lucky. One woman did twist her ankle, her boyfriend stayed by her side the entire race and carried her piggyback across the finish line. Actually, I think she's extremely lucky. I'd marry a man that did that for me.

Saturday we also signed off on the final color correction. That was a milestone.

Next week, Kat and I head to NYC where we'll get to watch the NYC marathon and I hope to see the Klempt exhibit and poke my head into the MOMA. Then we head to LA for a screening and lots of meetings. Then I'm off to DC for the NIH, NIMH screening. It will be a long couple of weeks, but I'm up for it. My housesitter is an Americorp volunteer at the shelter and loves animals. My cats love her.

After the color correction meeting, there were lots of parties to go to, but I didn't want to go to any of them. I don't do Halloween parties much, I don't like the pressure, I guess. Kat and I were going to go see a movie, but instead we went to dinner where we got to kick back and talk about things besides the film. That is rare and it was wonderful. We also ran into several friends I love it when that happens.

Back to the race...it reminded me of how much can change in a year...last year when Kat and Nevie ran it, I didn't even think about signing up. I was still pretty slow, I wasn't confident, I was falling down a lot. A year of running changed all that. I felt great dashing down hills and scrambling up the rocks. It felt great just to be able to spend a beautiful morning running through the woods.

Huzzah

My favorite cousin Sam has been in Texas for family emergency duty. The Marines let him leave his post in Afghanistan, he's a fighter pilot, and a damn good one, too. We're cut from the same cloth, Sam and I, except for my fear of heights, that is... In our family, we're the rebels, which only means that we do our own thing, we take risks without realizing we're being risky and we're independent without realizing we're more so than most people.

Sam is in great shape. He suggested a 10 mile "bonding" run around Town Lake on Sat. morning. I said, "sure." It's longer than I've run since the marathon. I'm usually a 7 miler on Saturdays. We started out faster than my usual pace. We hit 7 miles and I'd peeled 8 minutes off my usual time. At 8 miles, Sam asked, "how far are we?" "2 miles to go!" "I'd like to walk the last one." "that's cool." We ran to the Stevie Ray Vaughn statue and then walked the last mile in. I guess I can offically keep up with the marines. We did have a nice bonding run and I'm pretty sure I could have kept running that last mile...

In other news;
Nashville screening went great!
Houston screening went great!

Moving forward, yes we are. Huzzah! as they say in the Marines...at least I think that's what they say...

i love john prine

This quiet, simple weekend is a blessing. After the activity of the past few weeks, this little interlude has been magnificient.

The dogs got me up super early, they hear things, and the biggest pleasure in their universe, after eating, is being in charge of the backyard. So, we all got up and checked it out. Everything was fine, so I made coffee and took my laptop to bed and have been catching up on writing and work all morning. I don't have to be anywhere, my trip to FL is cancelled until September.

I've fallen in a big way. I've love the Ipod. It helps me run and it helps me write, it's a total crutch, but I love it, anyway. Today, I remembered how much I love John Prine. I do John, I love you

saturday...

Yesterday felt like a saturday. I was up early, did the 7 mile loop (like I usually do on saturdays) and then after a full morning of work, I went to a matinee with Candler (How to Eat Fried Worms). (It was research.)
Yesteday afternoon I was lazy and tired, but managed to get some work done.

Today is Saturday and once again I was up early for a 7 mile run around the lake. Today it kicked my butt. It was hot by 6:30, and though I ran in about the same time as usual, it was hard. I felt like someone was holding my legs down as I ran. The air was thick and hot, like running through vaporizors. Unlike yesterday morning, I didn't even get to run through the sprinklers. Still, when I got home, I was really glad I'd done it. That's one of the things I love about running, it jsut makes me feel good.

Now, I've just watched a movie and it's not even noon. (Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio). (Its' good.)
I'm settling into a very quiet Saturday. The quietest I've had in ages.
It will be weird.

There is much to do: freelance work to complete, stories to write and dogs to walk.

running with music

Today for the first time, I ran with an ipod nano. It's just a tiny little whisper of a thing, but I was certainly feeling all geared up.
I didn't know how to finesse the download, so I just downloaded all the music in my itunes, most of it came from my daughter, but she's got good taste. (Let's just say I was really proud the day she came home with a Clash CD.)
So, I ran and I listened to french pop music, indie alt, dixie chicks, whatever shuffled up and played.
I kinda liked it and I ran at a nice, steady pace, except when that Patti Griffin song came on - that slowed me down a bit.

running, dogs, wednesdays

These days my mind is pretty busy.

There's a film in post production, one in development, there's a documentary in sort of production, and another in my head, along with a script or two and a couple of stories. There's the usual bills and house stuff along with our theatrical release of jumping off bridges (which is coming right along as you can see here). And, on top of that, there's the fact that my daughter is really truly leaving for college and there is much to do on that end, including cleaning the house in prep for a little going away bash, in addition, I'm processing a 'breakup' from that boy I was seeing for about 3 years. Don't get me wrong, there is much good going on in my life right now. It's not all craziness and transitions, but there are many details to track and things to be accountable for and it leaves me just wishing I knew someone who could make me one of those amazing Italian Stallion Martinis I learned to love in Seattle (just a hint of hazelnut liquor, not sweet, dry, but damn fine.)

Well, I don't have access to Italian Stallion Martinis now, so what to do in a time of such transition?

Three things:
Run
Walk the dogs
Hang out with the homeless on Wednesdays.

Yesterday, after a busy morning, I headed to the homeless center my mind full of lists, details and things to do and my arms full of three bags of Annalise's cast off clothing (already picked over by Kat and Tracy). As soon as I walked in, Homer, who can speak perfect TexMex/Spanish and English and who is our default stand in translator (and though he swears he does not have the patience to teach anyone Spanish can sit with a terrified Spanish speaker as we talk through options and soon they'll be smiling and relaxing and saying "hey man" just like Homer does cause Homer's just that damn sweet), anyway, Homer announces, really loudly, "you're late!".

It was nice to be missed. Really nice.
There were big smiles all around and lots of "Hi Stacy"s.
Now, that sounds like no big deal, but I love that shit. I absolutely love it and I love the hell out of my friends there.

I met a new guy today, "J", 55, skin and bones and sweet with lots of stories to tell. (I'd actually seen him on my run the night before, he was up on the bridge, with bags and backpack and he looked so thin that I resolved to go back and try to find him after the run, but by then it was late and getting dark and I just didn't do it.) Right after we met, "J" started digging around in his overstuffed wallet and soon enough presented me with a Jamba Juice gift card. He really wanted me to take it. He was very proud of it and for good reason, it had a sweet little flowery design on it and as he said, there was still money on it. (When people ask, I tell them that these little gift cards can be a pretty good choice if you want to give something to the homeless, sure it might be given to someone else, but it's still a nice thing to do.) I told him I couldn't accept it and made him take it back with a promise to try a strawberry-blueberry smoothie for me. After that, we were fast friends and I learned his story, or a good part of it.

"J" was sitting across from "DC" who likes to listen in on conversations. I asked J. how he became homeless and he just shrugged. "DC" piped up, "why do you have to call it 'homeless', can't we think of something nicer, like, 'not in a house'. To that, "S", a 50ish woman, a regular, who talks straight as an arrow, said, "well if you don't have a home, you're home LESS, don't try to pretty it up.' Good point, I thought, but "J" added to it, " you can be anywhere in the world and you still gotta have your heart in the right place, so maybe it don't matter where your home is or what your home is or if you have one or not."

Maybe it doesn't. I don't know. I still want them all to have one.

About that time, the phone rang and I was told there was a surprise caller on the line for me.

Sure enough it was my old pal, Cowboy (mid page), who I met about a year ago, and who called to tell me he was getting married! He wants me to come to the wedding and take pictures, which of course I will do. He's known his fiance 7 months, and said he just knew when he met her that she was "the one". (I guess being in your late 60's helps, with this, goodness knows, I'm not the only person to take years to study on "the one" question, too, heck Cowboy might be in his 70's.) Anyway, he wanted me there because he said I was the first person he met in Austin and he'd never forget me. The day Cowboy came in the center, was the only day I've ever been able to patch enough resources together to get someone homed in a single day. It happened for Cowboy. In just one afternoon, he went from being a transient who just arrived in town to having his own apartment, all thanks to ElderCare folks who went out of their way to help him. Guess he just has the luck of the cowboys, because Cowboy always said the only thing he wanted in life was a good woman, so I'm sure he's happy now.

"A" came in, not looking so good. It wasn't 2 weeks ago that he was doing really well. He had moved into an RV through the House the Homeless program, but now, today, he was dirty, sad and had a nasty spider bite on his hand. He needed a bandaid and I gave him one, along with a stack of alcohol towelettes. Dang it. Maybe he'll be happier camping in the woods than he was in the RV. We aren't all meant for houses or for RVs. Still...I hate it when that happens. We commiserated over how now he wouldn't be able to have me over for dinner.

Next, I saw someone else I hadn't seen in ages. "T" is a big man. He's probably 6 feet tall, weighs I don't know much, just a lot, and African American. More important, he's just as sweet as he can be. "T" has had my back more than once when someone lost their temper in the center and I had to step in between them (I know I shouldn't do that, but I do, I'm probably not scared enough sometimes.) "T" just has to stand up and everyone in the room notices. He asked me to get the checkers which is what we do, we play checkers and he usually forces me to win. He seriously sets his checkers up so I have to jump him, though I try hard not to. (Is it any wonder why I love this guy?) So we talk about his diabetes and his bad foot and his friend who helps him manage money and how funny it is that we only have one checker set and no checker board and we have to make do with a piece of plastic that has squares on it? But, hey, it's checkers, you can pretty much play checkers anywhere.

As I sit, "W" comes up and using mostly hand gestures motions me to the door to show me the bike he just bought, a beautiful white racing bike. "W" used to say nothing to me, he didn't speak a word to me, he has trouble with words. Now, he talks to me because I've learned to wait and let him get to the right words. We looked at the bike, then I went back to finish beating "T" at checkers. By this time, I had all kings and he only had two kings and despite his efforts, I won the race around the board, and he was forced to jump my guys until he ended up the winner. A first.

At that point, Mary breezed in and handed me a postcard. It was addressed to "Stacy, Lionel and Everyone" and was from "D" who moved to Seattle at the beginning of the summer. He was just telling us all that he's doing well and got their safely.

As we started final clean up and goodbyes, "J" came up and gave me a big, warm hug, so did "T". I asked "W". if he and "J" were friends and they both said, yes, but they go their separate ways, too. Then "W" took a long couple of moments and said "we're all friends" and pointing to each of us, "you're my friend and he's my friend and he's my friend, we're friends, all of us."

And, we are.

So, back to the beginning. It seems like Wed. morning I was worried about a lot of stupid things and by mid afternoon, I couldn't remember what I'd been worried about.

Run.
Walk dogs.
Hang with the homeless.

That's the ticket.

life beyond the post office

last night when I was running the loop around townlake, I saw a familiar face, couldn't place him at first. he was walking two pretty little shelties and he gave me a big wave and hello as I ran past him...I waved back, I knew this person, and I knew his face and I had a feeling he was someone I saw all the time...

but who was he?

About 10 seconds later I realized it was one of the postmen at the post office near my house. I go to the postoffice at least once a week, sometimes more. It's kinda nice seeing people outside of where you know them. It's too easy to assume their life is at the post office or the grocery store.

night running

If I lived at the beach, I might swim at night, or at nearly night. If I lived in the mountains, I'd surely go towards the top. I live in a quiet, older neighborhood in the middle of a busy town. So the best thing is to go for a run through the hood, to the park where people are playing tennis, walking their dogs, or just walking. Tonight, rain was predicted. The air was fresh and there was just a bit of a fallish breeze.

It's been a summer of changes, some welcome, some sad, with the biggest one yet just around the corner. I hope I'm up to it.

I'm looking forward to my day with my friends at Trinity Center. Those guys are the best tonic. I look forward to my time there like some people look forward to weekends.

file under: running

life and running

This morning I ran 7 miles, longer than I've gone since the marathon. I knew I could do it, as long as I didn't glance at my GPS every 10 minutes or tell myself I couldn't do it. I wanted that feeling, that exhileration that comes with pushing yourself a bit too far, making the goal, running the distance you set for yourself.
I admit it's probably a bit crazy. Still, it works for me.

If running is just physical, I'd rather just ride horses or skateboard. It's not. It's about setting the goals and making them and that moment right afterwards, when you just feel wonderful, physically, mentally, spiritually. It's one fine moment.

So, on my run today, I saw Benny and Kristina from the marathon team. Benny was running and Kristina yelled at me through the gates of the dog park. I saw David, my homeless friend who almost jumped when I ran up to him and patted him on the shoulder and ran off. He's one of the guys I consider a friend who I look for each week who has a big heart and bigger challenges, he's finding his way, and I love hearing him tell me about it

In my own life, this particular part of it, in general, is a bit stressy. I'm dealing with some transitions. Big ones. My roommmate and companion of 18 years, my daughter, Annalise, is graduating and preparing to leave home. In between now and then there are parties, recitals, ceremonies, orientations. There are other things going on too , changes, transitions, hard ones. Such is life.

Life is one long series of transitions, and somehow in all of that, there is a cycle, a looping, a coming back to where you started that makes it all make sense. The letting go, especially.

Hard core in my little striped mittens...

Okay, so after my post about trail running, I got a couple of comments about how I'm hard core because I fall down a lot and then get back up and run.
With this picture I offer those new to running a quick, visual, "what not to wear" lesson.
I do pay more attention to running fashion than I did when this picture was taken, but please remember it was 28 degrees and sleeting and this was probably mile 6 of the 26.2 I ran that day.
And note that Nevie, who was running next to me, ALWAYS looks better dressed than anyone else in any room she's in.

file under: running

healthy and busy

I've been over the cold for awhile, now. I've been under a pile of paperwork. Tax preparation to be exact, along with copies of JOB and padded envelopes and letters I'm writing.
It's a daily struggle me and the paper.

It's been a good week, I ran three times, did the workshop with Kat, showed the dogumentary to a very appreciate crowd, and I'd sent off many copies of jumping, followed up on leads, even talked to a distribution company who loves the film.

Today, I needed somethign different. So, today, Sunday, I took my boyfriend up on his idea for a trail run. It's something I'd been wanting to do. Running on the paved road, the well trod track is fine, it's nice and smooth and predictable. I had been hankering for trail work, dodging rocks and little hills. I wanted the challenge of a new path.

We set off in the afternon, after sleeping in, drinking coffee, reading the paper, talking to the neighbors, Sunday things.

We ran 2 miles out, dodging big rocks and big dogs, bikers and hikers and sliding through the little gates that mark trails on the green belt. It was fun, I'm sure my face was red, and I know I was smiling. On the way back, I felt even better than on the way out. Steve walked after three miles, he's on a training schedule and he doesn't like to deviate. I kept on running. Right back down the path, noticing the same rocks, the same stretches of sunny spots followed by shady, winding lusher parts. I got back to the roughest spot, a spot that required a little more managing, a little more technical trail mastery, or as I like to call it, really rough terrain.

I maneuvered up the rocks and around them and back down, just fine, and on the other side, got a little feeling of worry, then I prepared myself for what I knew was inevitable. I went down, slid across a rock and landed almost on my head. I got back up. Just a few scratches and bruises. I ran on, blood trickling from my elbow and my right knee. I passed people who looked a little worried, but so be it, no time to explain. I ran on and I felt light of foot again, like that kid who used to try to keep up with her brother most of my childhood. I slid a few more times, I didn't fall.

I have fallen three times now during runs. Always I've known it was going to happen just before it happened. (Only one time did I have to be driven home.) As I'm falling I always wonder who's watching me and what they are thinking. I like to think they think I'm tough and cool, but it really doesn't matter. I'm sure I'll fall again. I do that. I think it's because I'm slightly lopsided and irregular, which really just makes me cooler.

Light of foot, until I fall, then up and off again.
I may make this an every weekend thing.

file under: running

A marathon is 26.2 Miles...

I didn't know this when I joined the team: A marathon is 26.2 miles.
I trained for 6 months, running during the week, and long runs each Saturday morning. We started with 6 miles, then, 7, 8, 9, then on to 12, 13, on up to 20 miles. They got easier each time.

The day of the marathon was the coldest of the year. The days before had temperatures in the 70s and 80s, and here on marathon morning it was in the 20's and wasn't expected to go over freezing all day. We met up at 5:30 a.m. to drive to the course, a drive of about 10 miles that took over an hour, due to traffic and ice patches. What the heck were we thinking?

We jumped out of cars and walked to the course leaving the line of traffic and allowing our wonderful friends who agreed to drive us there to head home and get ready to cheer us on. Outside it was teeth chattering cold, misty rain and ice patches in the parking lot. Runners are a crazy bunch, thousands and thousands of them showed up anyway.

We learned they delayed the start time by half an hour due to traffic delays and weather. So, team TexFX ambled around in the cold waiting for the start, saying our "good lucks" and hugging each other and Kat/Nevie and I, in our black pants, black hats, and white Tyvek cheapo rain jackets from the Expo pretended we were an urban street gang. (more than one spectator said Nevie and I looked like the Johnny Cash team thanks to our groovy running clothes.)

It was cold, we were eager to run. When the gun finally went off, we started at a nice easy pace, warmed up and by mile 6 were feeling great. I ran with teammates, Nevie, Kat and Kristina and we kept a great steady pace together.

Annalise and Steve met me at Mile 7 with a full water bottle. I gave my jacket and gloves to Steve as I was all warmed up, but I was soon wishing I had them back as the temperatures dropped and the wind picked up. I picked up a discarded glove and wore that until I saw them again and Ace gave me the gloves she was now wearing at mile 12. At each mile, we had spectators cheering us on, it helped immensely, but not as much as seeing my daughter holding a sign that said, "Go Mom!"

Miles 13-15 were a bit of a blur, as we ran past the train tracks and through a business park. Things got interesting again at mile 17 as I ran past the road to Annalise's school and through the Hyde Park neighborhood. We had a big crew of cheerers at Quacks bakery near mile 18. They cheered us on and again, Steve and Annalise and now Leslie, were there with fresh water and gel packs. Teammate Kristina slowed at this point, Nevie and I forged on ahead to Mile 19 which went quickly, unlike Mile 20, which seemed to go on forever. We knew that up ahead was the hill up to the state capital at Mile 21.

When we hit the hill, we ran up it, did a jog around the capital and came out at Mile 22, at the top of Congress Avenue. We had more supporters here and they and the spectators reminded us that we only had 5 miles to go. We ran down the capital and Steve and Annalise ran toward me with another fresh bottle of water, much needed and appreciated. (There were water stations along the route, but I tend to toss more water on my face when I use the little water cups, I haven't mastered the water cup, yet.)

At Mile 23, with three miles to go, I was getting tired. I saw my cousin Mason step out of the crowd and he ran with me a few feet, encouraging me and cheering me on. The joy of seeing Mile 23 and the pep talk from Mason was needed, as the path to Mile 24, was uphill and it seemed like I'd never reach Mile 24. But, I did, and it was a good thing, cause from then on it was 2 miles, mostly downhill with a series of spectators who cheered me on at every moment. I started tearing up when I saw the marker for Mile 25, only 1.2 miles to go!

I was close, and I was tired, so I started meditating on the mantra I borrowed from Robin, my cousin in law, "stay strong". That got my pace steady again and I knew I wouldn't stop or slow for anything. Mason was waiting for me again, as Mile 23 - 25 were on different sides of the same stretch of road. He told me all kinds of encouraging things, and I tossed my water belt at him and told me to meet me at the finish line. He said he'd see me there.

One last turn and Mile 26 was in sight. I was just about to break down in sobs, especially when I saw a group of friends near the mile marker, yelling me on. I passed Mile 26 and saw the finish line ahead. As I ran the last 2/10 mile, all the people along the way were offering their hands out to me and telling me how great all this was and I started crying for real. Then I saw the faces of Steve and Annalise and my coach, Gary and I was in full sob.

Someone put a medal on my neck and someone else took off my timer chip and then Steve appeared across the fence with a bouquet of pink roses. (He brought roses for Kat, Nevie, Kristina and I.) I saw Kat and Nevie waiting for me and we all hugged and cried.

I finished in just over 5 hours, start time, not sure what my chip time finish will be. My body started complaining as soon as I crossed the line, and now after food, a massage and a hot bath, I think the fish soup Steve is cooking up will have me in good shape very soon.

Our team raised over $8,000 for the children's shelter. Thanks to all of you who contributed to that effort. We'll get to go and take pictures with the kids next week.

I'm still not sure what compelled me to take this on, I guess I just wanted to see if my 40 year old, damaged body could do it or not. It could, somehow, it just could.

Will I do it again? I don't know.
Am I glad I did it? Absolutely.

Stay Strong.

file under: running

Marathon

I did it!

file under: running

brrrrrr

A blue norther blue in last night in time for tomorrow's marathon. We ran our last two training miles this a.m. It was cold. Thanks to my new Tyvek jacket ($7), I was pretty warm after about 5 mintues. I bought the jacket at hte running expo. It's supposed to keep me warm and dry and I think it probably will!

After blueberry pancakes, I headed home for a hot shower and our press conference with the mayor of Austin, Will Wynn. Will Wynn is an amazing mayor, Austin is lucky to have him.

I'm home again for a bit, then it's Kat's shower, then the pasta dinner, then it's sleep.

file under: running

Let me tell ya about 20 miles...

This morning I ran 20 miles, or as I like to call it, 2 miles 10 times

Kat, Nevie and I met at the starting line at 6:45. Gary, our coach was there to offer sunscreen, lip balm, extra gu and extra water, but mostly he just wanted to encourage us and take our breakfast taco order. The rest of the team, which is dwindling in number, ran their 20 miles on Saturday in driving rain. Nevie and Kat and I had somewhere to be on Saturday morning, so we planned our run on Sunday instead.

We set out on the trail for lap 1 around Town Lake, from Mopac, past 35 over the Longhorn dam bridge and back, then out again in the other direction. Lap 1 was great. We met back at our meeting place, the parking lot of Gary's office, got some water, stretched bit and headed right back out, for miles 11-20.

At mile 13, I felt fabulous for the first half mile, then my left leg felt stiff, unsteady. My right leg overcompensated and between the two of them, somehow I made it through mile 13 and into mile 14. A quick planned minute walk break and I ran again. No problems in miles 15 or 16. All during that two mile jaunt I was thinking of how great it was going to be at mile 17. Why? I don't know...I like odd numbers, and 17 miles is just 3 miles short of 20, so I knew no matter what I could go three more miles.

At one point, there was danger...a little dog ran right in front of me while it's owner whined 'come here binky'. I was running friggin 20 miles and a little dog was about to stop my pace and possibly send me to the pavement. I glared at the owner and said in my tough girl voice, "he needs to get out of the way." The dog picked up on it all and scurried away.

There were other dangers on the path. The people with ipods are often worse than dogs. These folks stay in the middle of the path, walk with their little beat going and often cause near accidents. When you politely say, "excuse me" or "on your left", they don't even hear you cause their listening to their custom "walk mix".
I love the sounds of the trail. There are ducks and swans diving in the water and squirrels and snatches of conversations and the sound of one's feet on all the different surfaces, dirt, bridges, gravel, sidewalk and today, mud puddles left from Saturday's rain.

I got to mile 17 and felt great... just like I thought I would. I knew I was close, really close...and I love this one little section of trail that goes right by the water on a dirt path and it's shady and quiet. I like knowing what's up ahead and looking forward to getting to my favorite spots.

At mile 19, I think I got a little taste of runner's high. I felt smooth and carefree and a bit light headed. I was in a zone, I was going to run 20 miles, I could feel it.

We got to 19.5 miles and I got a little teary eyed. Kat had run up ahead after mile 10, and now she was running back to run us the rest of the way in. I looked back at Nevie, she was holding strong. We just had a little ways to go and the worst part of it is running past these apartment buildings right before the end that seem to go on forever. They were in site. I pushed on, slowed a bit, Nevie was just behind me and I was going to cross the line with her. We ran in side by side.

I was teary and emotional. I felt strong and proud of all three of us. I never thought I'd run 20 miles. I've done a lot of things I never thought I'd do, this is different and I'm not even sure why. I want to figure that out in the weeks to come.

Gary had o.j., breakfast tacos, bananas and sweet rolls waiting for us. We divided up the goods, did a few group hugs and headed for home. I took an icy bath. Painful. It worked, though.

This afternoon Annalise and I went to see Urinetown, the Musical. I almost always cry at the end of live performances, so I guess it was just a teary, tiring, happy day all around.



file under: running

stay strong

I ran 18 miles Saturday morning. As Mom said, "girl, you're burnin pavement!". It wasn't always this way.

Mom remembers me as a couch potato kid. It's an accurate memory. I wasn't athletic. Could have been due to my poor vision, my bad hand-eye coordination, my general geekiness awkwardness.

I was signed up for softball one summer. I gave it my best shot. I had private batting lessons with the coach, Dad spent hours helping me learn to catch. There was just something I couldn't grasp, depth perception, gauging distance, I just couldn't make contact with the damn ball.

My position, of course, was right fielder and you know what happens there...not a damn thing. I spent my time at practice avoiding the mean girls and watching ant hills back in right field.
Finally I got up the nerve to tell my Dad I wanted to quit. I remember he told me, "If you quit, you'll be a quitter." I told him, "no, I'm just not a softball player."

I wasn't good at organized sports, the pressure was too intense and there were those damn mean girls. I did like to run. I liked to ride my bike. I l liked to play "ghost ball" and HORSE and I loved to read.
(The next year I started wearing glasses. It turned out I was very very nearsighted and I'm lucky I didn't stand in front of speeding balls. But, that was the 70's and parents weren't big on getting kids tested for things as they are now.)


I didn't play softball again until many years later when I was in an intramural softball league at the publishing company where i worked. It was fun. We were a bunch of editors playing teams of accountants and bankers. We won a few games, too. There was no pressure.

When Annalise was little, running always seemed to big to wrangle. I had to find a sitter, buy good shoes, etc. So, we walked, we hiked the Alpine Lake trails, Mount SI, Mount Ranier, Dungeness Spit, Hurricane Ridge, all within a few hours of Seattle. We'd walk almost everywhere around our neighborhood, or I'd walk and she'd Big Wheel.

Skiing was always a bit much for my budget, but Annalise's school in Seattle let the kids go skiing every Friday in the winter and needed chaperones. I signed up to be a chaperone and they put me with the 5th grade boys who wanted to learn snowboarding. So, I learned to snowboard.

It just seems like the right time to learn to run. I'm on a team, but there aren't any mean girls and there's not any time spent in the place where nothing happens, like right field. We all hit the trail together and go at our pace and look out for each other. Yesterday when Nevie was feeling funny at mile 13, Kristina and I looked out for her and at mile 14 when my leg seemed to be stuck in on one position, Nevie and Kristina waited for me to get the leg all stretched and moving again, and we all continued.

18 miles is a long way. It's crazy, it's insane, and sometimes, that's exactly what is called for.

I'm proud of us.

file under: running

14 miles

I ran 14 miles this a.m. Thanks to a Ms. Kat Candler for getting me through the last 1/2 mile as she rambled on about something like walks on the beach with her Dad in Florida and physical therapy appointments. I was just watching the pavement, thinking .3 miles, .3 miles, .3 miles.
Then, there was the stopping point and I had done it.

I think I'm running for two reasons:
1)It's the only thing in my life I can control. I can decide to do it and I know I will do it.

2) It's just about me. Selfish? A bit...still, the healthier I am, the easier I am to be around. I'm more calm and focused and I'm thinner and stronger, so I can haul things and be there for others. Still, the hour or two I run is time I'm alone, thinking, forgetting, moving in any direction I decide to go in.

There's one more reason:
So far, I'm injury free, and while I'm no lickety split runner, I'm faster than I used to be, what I can control is deciding to do it and continuing to put one foot in front of the other. I feel the brisk air on my face and breathe it in and I feel like I'm 10 years old again. I imagine myself in the woods running after my big brother and his friends when they were always trying to lose me. I would be barefoot and I would be a mess, my ponytail all falling out and my clothes all dirty. I would be a mess, but all I thought about was how fast I was and how free I was. I'm 43, but when I'm running, I sometimes feel 10. I may have to grow my hair out so I can have a true ponytail again, one that swishes and falls apart.

Roy Bean and the missing cookies

Roy Bean is our 4th dog. (yes, we have 3 others). Roy is sitting at my feet right now looking lovingly at me, the incident from this morning, is not even a distant memory. Dog memory is brief, approximately 3 seconds.

Roy Bean has food issues.

When he was brought home from the pound in February of 2004, the original plan was for collie rescue to help him find a home. Problem is, he's only part Collie. His release paperwork listed his health status as "grossly obese". At 94 pounds, he was at least 30 pounds overweight. So, while he looked like a collie, he was just a very fat long-haired mix.

He was tested for thyroid problems. His thyroid levels are well within "range".
He loves to play and run around so we knew he wasn't lazy.
His problem: counter surfing.

Months of healthy portion sizes and romps with the other dogs, has helped Roy reach his goal weight of a svelte 60 pounds. He still loves food. He is favorite time of day is dinner time. His two favorite words are "crunchies" and "cookies". When he hears the sound of a dogfood bowl being picked up he responds like most of us would to winning big with a scratch off ticket. Roy has lost the weight, for now, but when faced with temptation, Roy can't help it. I don't think he even tries to resist, he just loves to eat.

This morning I let my guard down and an entire pan of chocolate chip cookie bars disappeared. It all happened in less than 5 minutes.

It takes a lot of chocolate to hurt a fat dog. According to our vet, Roy will be fine, but we need to, uh, watch his weight.