Graceful Transitions

I just hit enter...

2012-01-14T17:29:00.000-08:00

on the registration for my first ever half-marathon.

Despite the fact that my long run today didn't go well -- not enough sleep, not well-timed nutrition, too much sun, and legs much too tired from the week's workouts, even though I only ran one other time this week.

I may not finish it quickly. I certainly won't run every step.
But I'm fairly confident that barring injury, I'll do just fine. It won't be under 2 hours. It will probably be under 3.

And really, it's about the challenge to myself. I turn 40 late this year (how the heck? I swear I just hit 30. Somehow, a half-marathon seems like a good way to kick off the year.

and hopefully, trapeze performance at the end of March, although I'm half-afraid I'll jinx it by even mentioning it.

and then, we'll see.
I came up with the crazy idea of hiking the Torre del Paine circuit in Patagonia for my 40th birthday, if I can get some friends who are equally as crazy to join me.

But first things first. Wish me luck.

how is it the second week of January?

2012-01-12T10:32:00.000-08:00

2012 keeps flying. The holidays already seem a long time past.

There's a lot going on already in 2012, most of which I won't talk about publicly. At least, I won't talk about it publicly unless and until things are more definite. So, I'm a little more on edge.

Which probably means that it's a very good thing that I am (somewhat haphazardly) training for a half marathon on Superbowl Sunday, though I haven't yet fully committed to it. We'll see how this weekend's long run goes -- it's weird training on 2-3 runs per week, but I can't fit any more in around circus training. That's more important to me, even though it has less tangible goals right now.

However, last Saturday's long run was beautiful. A lovely morning run with some good hills and beautiful vistas and a good pace for the 10 miles of running (11.5 with walks and warm-up/cool-down).

Normally I'd do my long run on Sundays, to give my body a day off after the week's crazy workouts. This past weekend, however, I was holding Sunday open for a hike with a pal. I wasn't sure if she could make it, but she surprised me slightly by jumping on the opportunity Saturday night. The weather continued to be gorgeous. The scenery was amazing, and the company awesome as always.

It's good to have these times, where my needs for exercise and company are met simultaneously.

the first evening of 2012

2012-01-01T21:19:00.000-08:00

I am sitting on the sofa with one cat curled around hugging my left thigh.
The other cat is on my right shin, left foot, and El Bandito's arm.
El Bandito is dozing on the other end of the sofa.

I had ...

a lazy morning.

a completed NYT Sunday crossword.

a lovely long run in the park this afternoon.

A good dinner and delicious wine.

2012 is off to a delightful start.

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T01:57:00.000-08:00

I have half a dozen half-finished gratitude posts. They may find their way up yet. They may not. The last week or so of December, one of the things I've been most grateful for? free time, and lack of (too many) responsibilities, even self-imposed ones.

I love how Jote's project has spread, and how many people have found things in their lives to be thankful for.

2011 was a good year for me, for us. Ups and downs, like any year, but full of travel and adventure and fun and friends and family.

Sometimes, I wish I could find that myself as angst-filled teenager and tell her -- your life won't be anything like you imagine. But it will be *awesome*. Having that urge makes me realize just how lucky I am.

Life is an ongoing adventure. May 2012 bring you and yours (and me and mine, for that matter) joy, peace, and a whole new set of fun and exciting challenges -- in the best possible ways.

bubbles

2011-12-29T22:26:00.000-08:00

Maybe tomorrow I'll take a better photo of the empty bottle (and thus remove this disclaimer).

But a nice bottle of champagne.
Shared with family, to celebrate my birthday.
A good end to a lovely visit.

Thankful that I get to spend this time with them.

Thankful that El Bandito takes long walks with me on these visits, and buys fancy sparkling wine to share.

the lake in winter

2011-12-28T19:31:00.000-08:00

My home.

Oh, not this lakeside town in particular, though I do love the pier here.

But this lake, and a winter sunset?

Part of my heart.

Part of who I am.

Roots.

I visit it whenever I get the chance.
This year, it gifted me with a dramatic sunset and calm waters.

Some years, when El Bandito and I visit, this pier is coated in ice, impassable.

Some years, the snow and ice cover almost as far as the eye can see -- though those years are rare now.

I love this lake in summer.

And the crowds of people on the public sections of the shore.

The sand dunes.

The views of miles and seemingly endless miles of water and sky.

I love it in winter, frozen along the edges, treacherous and tempting.

I love it from the far southwestern edge, in the windy city.

From the sand dunes extending along its eastern edge.
Watching sunsets on a hot, humid summer night or a cold, cold winter aftenroon.

And for the deep, deep sense of home.

moving pictures

2011-12-27T11:14:00.000-08:00

El Bandito and I went to the movies last night. A little break from family, a little time together.
A lovely fable with beautiful effects. Hugo.

There's something about movies, the way they offer escapism and adventure and different world views... and sometimes, to be honest, just big damn explosions.

Stepping into another life -- as an observer.

the old neighborhood

2011-12-26T22:11:00.000-08:00

My parents still live in the house I grew up in -- a constant in my life, though I've been out-of-the-house more than half my life.

The streets are familiar.
Full of memories.

And full of so many changes, too. The neighborhood's improved.
There are now coffee-shops and bakeries within walking distance.

A new organic foods market that I suspect won't make it, but is nice to see there anyway.

Fancy new restaurants. A packed pub.

The historic houses shining with their paint jobs and repairs, even though the gardens don't show this time of year.

And still, a community. Where the neighbors mostly know each other. Where kids still play on the lawns.

a list of random things which make think of friends

2011-12-22T18:18:00.000-08:00

it's not just the big things that make friendships work. it's sometimes the shared things, big or small. On that note, a list of some of the random things that I'm grateful make me think of friends.
(incomplete, certainly)

artichokes

tiaras and parasols

hockey games

white russians

broken kneecaps (not mine, fortunately)

ice-climbing

bellinis
fascinators
pushups (the exercise, not the ice cream treat -- or the bra)
ballet
inflatable platypus

simple things

2011-12-22T10:53:00.000-08:00

today, or rather yesterday, since I was too tired last night to type this:

a nowhere-near comprehensive list of simple things I've appreciated this week.

the bathroom ceiling (you don't miss it until you don't have it)
the freshly repaved roads that make my bike commute less vibratory (worth the construction chaos)
a well-timed thank you note
chocolate showing up in my office.
El Bandito's magical coffee.
lunch-time runs.

tuesday night workouts

2011-12-21T11:43:00.000-08:00

On Tuesdays, I drive across the city for my workout.
I started doing this because working out with friends makes the torture a little less torturous.
And because I needed one more good, hard, structured workout in my week, to go with the runnning and the trapeze.
It's a circus-oriented conditioning class. Some acro, lots of core work, lots of functional strength and body weight exercise.

It kicks my butt. Sometimes literally.
But there's always a lot of laughter, and naming of exercises (benches of death, captain morgans).

The participants change a bit from week to week -- never more than 5 of us, so we get focused attention.

And awesome assisted stretching at the end.

I leave feeling like I could do it all over again,

Thankful for the company, the conditioning, and the endorphins.

older, wiser, and more bad-ass

2011-12-19T06:00:00.000-08:00

For those of you who might have missed it, Jote started this "30 days of Gratitude" thing in 2009.

Jote's the kinda gal whose good ideas spread like wildfire. Last year, more than a handful of us picked up the idea, and I know that this year, the community of people looking at their lives and seeing all the amazing things to be grateful for has spread immensely. People acknowledging their siblings, their spouses, their kids, the right timing of a cup of coffee, their gyms, their running buddies.

We've all got a lot to be grateful for.

And many reasons to be grateful to Jote for inspiring this introspection.

I know that a number of the folks doing gratitude blogging in December are part of Jote's Austin community of mamas and friends.

And I'm loving seeing those people, and how they connect with Jote.

She and I were college friends. Knew each other in those malleable years, while we were still figuring out who we were and what we wanted. Drinking White Russians, watching football, taking long walks through farmland and thinking we were prepared because we'd brought a small water bottle and a single powerbar between us. Bitching about boys -- we probably called them men, but really, we were all just kids then. Dressing to the nines, and then spitting as we walked to a college dance, one each on W's arms, leading him to declare "You can dress 'em up, but you can't take 'em out".

Growing up, together and apart.

I went to graduate school. Jote fell in love (Hi, Matt!).
I missed her wedding, because I couldn't afford a ticket to Austin on my wimpy graduate student stipend. We talked on the phone. Intermittently.

But life happens, and when you're not in the same city, or the same community of people, it's easy to let things lapse more than they should.

I saw Jote when "The Teen" was a toddler; connecting with her when El Bandito and I were in Texas for another friend's wedding. By then, it had been 5 or 6 years, but it was still like catching up with an old friend.

More time passed, and the contact became more sporadic. An email bounced. We lost the immediacy that forges bonds. I still think of her every July.

And then, I found her blog. I remember reading through it going, YES, JOTE. This is the girl I knew, turned into a woman I *want* to know. And being thrilled when she replied to an email. She's Jote. She's awesome. She's a rock star in her own inimitable way.

Sometime in the last year, I sent her an email telling her how glad I was she was part of my life again. She replied "it's like we're having the same conversation, only wiser and more bad-ass". Amen, lady, amen.

So, Jote, thank you for so much. For the reminder to be grateful. For your part in my freaking awesome life. For being older, wiser, and more bad-ass. For still touching a chord in my soul, all these years later. For being an awesome mother, for raising kids I'd love to know. For still sharing my love of coffee, tasty drinks, yeast on popcorn, and artichokes. For the tofu recipe that's become a staple in our household -- and known simply as "Jote's Tofu". For taking gorgeous pictures and including me in your distant life.

I hope that some day, we can have a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. A walk together. In the meantime...

Lady, you rock. I hope today, and every day, you're showered with the love, affection, and gratitude you deserve from all angles. Happy December, darlin' gal. Together and apart, we're older, wiser, and more bad-ass. You called it.

the right words

2011-12-18T13:28:00.000-08:00

on my run today, just as I was hitting a low point (or a high point, since it was an uphill I didn't really want to be on), I saw graffiti* scrawled on a sidewalk.

Try Hard.
Do Well.

They were words I needed right then.

Or finding a poem (via a Poetry Friday link from another woman gratitude-blogging) that spoke to me.

I don't always have the right words, especially to offer in times of grief or sorrow, or in times of joy. But I love it when I find them.

Or when they find me.

Be kind.

Try Hard.
Do Well.

Thanks, random paint marker person.

*I actually suspect, from its location by a school, that this was sanctioned "graffiti"

circus

2011-12-17T23:48:00.000-08:00

it's no secret I'm addicted to the trapeze.
to the challenges, and the athleticism, and slowly gaining artistry as well.

and I'm grateful for all that. I said it last year, and it still holds true.

but also, for watching circus. For seeing the incredible things people can do with their bodies and their art. For seeing the physical and emotional dedication.

for watching a friend perform her swinging trapeze act for the first time.

for watching the spectacle that a Cirque du Soleil show is. A different level, and yet nearer than one might think.

for the creativity and energy and enthusiasm.

For the friends circus has brought me. For the casual acquaintances whose smiles still brighten my day. For this community. For the joy on a kid's face watching the clowns and the aerialists and the gasps of astonishment.

a friday night dinner with friends

2011-12-16T23:30:00.000-08:00

laughing.
drinking funny pink cocktails.
three people scooting around each other in a small kitchen, chopping mint and slicing mushrooms.
good wine.
sitting down to eat with stories and chatter.
leaving before the evening really ends, to go pick up another friend from the airport.

a good friday night.

Synonym Toast and Acrobats

2011-12-15T08:12:00.000-08:00

Describing how grateful I am for my marriage, for El Bandito, for this sustaining relationship? Impossible. And yet important. Today is El Bandito's birthday, so a short list of gratitude that doesn't begin to cover it:

For 18 years of inside jokes, the title among them. Of finishing each other's sentences. Croutons. Interrupting Donut! and a ridiculous slew more.

For making me laugh so hard I can't breathe, even though almost every time that happens I say I hate you (I don't, really).

Locks of Love, Ponte Vecchio, 2003

For being there when I am "old and busted" and when I am "new hotness", though the casual observer might not know the difference.

For supporting me. In so many, many ways. The early morning coffee. The patience when I schedule our lives around my workouts. For doing the dishes while I'm doing my shoulder exercises again,

For putting my shoes and coat away, even when I intend to grab 'em momentarily and get confused at their absence.

For documenting our lives in such an amazing way, the places we go, the people we're with. It's an overwhelming number of photos. But man, it's a wonderful collection (even if I have yet to figure out how to navigate them.)

For the weekends wandering new cities, or our own. For stops for chocolate truffles and coffee. For being willing to adventure with me, no set destination.

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

Excerpted from e.e. cummings. Somewhere I have never travelled.

It's a start. Even though there's so much more. For tonight, Happy Birthday, El Bandito. You rock my world.

a boy. his skateboard.

2011-12-14T23:20:00.000-08:00

There's a boy who lives in the apartments at the corner.

Often, when I'm coming home from work, or heading out for my run (or sometimes, like tonight, on the return from my run, in the dark hours of the evening), he's outside.

With his skateboard. and the most improvised of obstacles and fake pipes.

He's getting better. He's out there almost every evening. A boy, his skateboard.

And when he lands a new trick, he's got a gorgeous grin.

Tonight, he wiped out just as I was approaching, on the cooldown from a really good run. Picked himself up, grabbed his deck, and said "I thought I was going to get it this time".

Next time, kiddo.

I don't know what it is about kids and skateboards -- probably childhood nostalgia as much as anything -- but this kid makes me smile every damn time I see him.

A boy. A skateboard. A shooting star. It was a good night for a run.

public transit

2011-12-13T22:55:00.000-08:00

It's not that I don't like driving.
Because actually I do, and always have.
But I hate parking. and looking for parking.
And so, in this city, without a designated parking space of our own, we tend to avoid driving.
I bike commute, because it's simplest, although it still requires more thought and planning than hopping in the car.
El Bandito bike commutes, although he's gotten bored with his route after a number of years. And so somedays he takes transit.

Today, I had errands to run that just weren't practical by bike.
I spent a lot of time on transit, but it was efficient and effective.
It's not always, in this city with its dysfunctional transit system.
Today, it was. And every day, it moves thousands of people around... to jobs, for errands, taking people to places they want to go (and to places they don't, I suppose).

Simply grateful that today all the connections were simple and the timing was good.

My mother, on her 70th birthday.

2011-12-12T22:10:00.000-08:00

I am grappling with the concept of my mother being 70. Which the calendar says is true today.

In my mind, she's the 40-year old who went back to work when I was in elementary school, setting off each morning in her walking shoes with her lunch and left-overs. Who swam at lunch. Who set an example of being a capable working woman who took care of herself and her family.

In my mind, she's the mid-40s breast cancer survivor. Hard to believe that her mastectomy was more than 2 decades ago. Not that I ever actually believed she wasn't going to survive that. She was my mother. She *is* my mother.

In my mind, she's the computer programmer on call late at night.

In my mind, she's the woman who fell asleep on the chest freezer b/c she was so, so, tired and had been taking care of her injured and whining teenage daughter for too many nights running.

In my mind, she's the woman in her early 50s who asked me what I wanted for my 21st birthday and when I said "24 pink and green giraffes" she found a drawing of two giraffes, photocopied it a dozen times, and colored them in with pink and green highlighters.

In my mind, she's the woman who sent me little cards of encouragement through difficult grad school years. Who has knit me so many sweaters.

In my mind, she's in her mid-50s, making the food for my wedding. Baking the cake. Refitting the wedding dress she made me in last minute alterations.

In my mind, she's not *70*. Nothing wrong with 70. I know fabulous, sharp-as-a-tack, spry and lively 70-year-olds. But my mother's not supposed to get "old". She's my mother. She will always be my mother. And my friend. And for that, I am so very thankful.

books. libraries. book recommendations.

2011-12-11T19:23:00.001-08:00

I come from a family of readers.
My sister once famously missed her entire 6th grade class leaving the (1-room) school library because she was reading.
And El Bandito has more than once had to repeat things I wasn't paying attention to because I was reading.

Sometimes I read for distraction.

Sometimes I read for entertainment.

Sometimes I read for education.

I also read really damn fast. For years, I just thought that was how everybody read. A novel would be a way to pass an hour, maybe two if it was serious. Sometimes 3. I've read a lot.

I read non-fiction if it's a topic that vaguely interests me.

And I'll read just about anything fiction-wise, although I'll gripe if it's poorly written or if I can't suspend my disbelief. As someone I know once said, this means I've read more really good books and more complete trash than most people will read in their lifetimes.

So, I find it hard to choose books -- what will get me through the flight, what will make me laugh or cry? What won't fall into the category of "did I really spend an hour with that tripe"?

Every time I travel, I put out a call for book recommendations and garner suggestions from friends.
And my phone is full of photos from bookstores, with titles that looked interesting while browsing.
Some friends will hand me books, knowing that it's not that I have more time to read, but that the time I have is condensed, and so I'll get it back to them quickly.

Today, in another gratitude-blogger's post, I found a book recommendation. Which will hopefully arrive in the electronic edition from the library in time to get me through part of a long flight.

Grateful for all the ways to lose myself in another world...

fresh from the oven

2011-12-10T23:45:00.001-08:00

today's gratitude could be ...

... that running multiple errands this afternoon still involved tasty Vietnamese sandwiches...

or that the plumbing leak in the upstairs flat only caused the ceiling in our bath to buckle and drip, not collapse...

or that El Bandito threw together a delicious dinner despite playing phone tag with plumbers and landlords...

and yes, I am grateful for all of those things.

but also for the ability and time to throw together a batch of banana bread, 4 miniloaves. it's a simple thing, but banana bread satisfies my desire to avoid waste, and to make something delicious for El Bandito (because realistically, his intake of baked goods is probably about 3 times mine). and it was a good end to an ordinary weekend day.

Feline fuzzballs

2011-12-09T21:11:00.001-08:00

productivity

2011-12-08T23:09:00.001-08:00

I've been feeling underutilized at work recently.
Hell, not recently. Throughout the last several years.
But this job pays the bills. Allows me to go to trapeze without guilt.
Helps us travel.
And to afford nice bottles of wine and the good coffee we love.
Lets me still think about science -- and that might be part of the problem.
My scientific training makes me cautious and conservative in data analysis and experiments. Clinical research is rarely that clean and well-designed.

Though I forget sometimes, some of the research I'm doing really does help people. Not abstractly, not in the "world of the future" but *now*.

That's kind of cool.

Today, I felt productive. No major project ticked off, no breakthroughs or finished papers or anything like that. Just a good, solid day's work, where I felt like I used my mind again.

Grateful for that feeling.

quiet miles

2011-12-07T23:50:00.001-08:00

I am, somewhat in spite of myself, "training" for a half-marathon at the beginning of February.
Training casually, trying to increase my weekly mileage and frequency, but without sacrificing trapeze time. Or, for that matter, time with El Bandito or friends or holidays or... yeah. So, it's not an optimal way to train for an athletic event, but it's a way to train around my life.

The miles have been accumulating.

I am grateful that El Bandito accommodates my exercise needs and desires. That he doesn't grumble when I schedule events around my planned runs (or around my trapeze and circus conditioning).

Grateful that running gives me better stamina on the trapeze, even as it reduces my flexibility and makes me work harder.
That running gives my mind time to wander and work through things.
That sometimes, running comes down to my footfalls and my breathing and not very much else.

That sometimes, running is views and awe. And sometimes, running is the fog and not seeing more than 30 feet in front of me in the misty park.

Grateful for the miles these shoes have taken me, in the quiet late evenings and the few early mornings.
For the strength in my legs, the power in my heart that lets me do these things.
For the friends who have decided that perhaps this crazy running business isn't truly so crazy -- or, if it so crazy, they're willing to partake in the insanity with me.
For the solo runs.
For the camaraderie of the other runners on the roads and paths, the nods and smiles of acknowledgement.

I've grown to love running. I knew I missed it when I was told with the ankle injury in 2010 that I couldn't run. Missing it isn't the same as loving it. But as I start to run longer, farther, more often, I start to crave it.

I'm grateful for the ability to run. To, from, towards, away. For the quiet solo miles I've been logging on my early evening runs. For all that those miles give me.

seeeeester mine

2011-12-06T23:04:00.001-08:00

My sister and I? We have a quirky relationship. She's my sister, sharer of my genes, sharer of my childhood experiences, with just enough space between us that I was always trying to surpass her. (Isn't that part of siblings too?) She was the good kid, the bookworm. I was the boundary tester. Always. (Although also a bibliophile).

We're quick to ignite, pushing each other's buttons. We snap quickly at each other.

But our nearly weekly phone calls are part of the integral fabric of my life. We talk about nothing, we talk about everything. Topics from dinner to silliness to the serious. The inside jokes that come from shared lifetimes.

El Bandito commented, years ago, that my sister and I have a better relationship over the phone than in person. He's correct, though I think much of the failing is in my quick temper.

It's unlikely she'll ever read this. But "Call your seeester day" never seems quite right without that contact, even though both of us are busy enough that Sunday mornings skip past unnoticed sometimes. This past weekend, they were traveling. The weekend before, we caught up only briefly.

I'm sure, in a few weeks, when we're on shared familiar turf for the holidays, discombobulated by the return to childhood surroundings, we'll be sniping at each other as always. So tonight, I'm taking a few minutes to be truly grateful that I have a loving sister. That our arguments and insults are truly trivial. I'll get cranky soon enough!

old friends and new media

2011-12-05T22:21:00.001-08:00

I may bemoan the lack of old-fashioned letter-writing, or even email correspondence. The long missives that caught you up on what friends were doing, thinking, feeling. Sometimes, I look at the short-attention-span and "public" nature of things like Facebook and cringe.

But other times, I realize it's given me a bit of a gift. Old friends, who'd fallen out of contact -- we lost the conveniences of catching up over coffee, easy phone conversations or long emails. Our lives got busier; we moved in and out of different time zones; we created new circles and new families.

But it's nice to know that M. is doing well pursuing his life-long theater dream, that E. is indeed "raising bright Texas children" with his best friend, that S. and M. are making wedding plans. That A. has taken up speed-skating, that T. has taken to beautiful crafting. To reconnect, and catch up on a little of the daily minutia and re-establish bonds and conversations. My life is very full.

So today's gratitude: modern communication and old, dear friends. And the mix.

meeep meep!

2011-12-04T16:04:00.001-08:00

El Bandito and I have been sorting through vacation photos.

He announced: "there are series of photos of me making funny faces." (He's awesome at funny faces. Of course I take the opportunity to capture them!)

I looked at him, when he announced this, and he said: "Like Beaker face!"

and proceeded to "Meep Meep"

and make *more* funny Beaker faces!

I love that this is my life. I'm still giggling.

rockstar parking

2011-12-03T00:04:00.000-08:00

On a busy day, full of awesome, a convenient parking space might not seem like something important.

It's not that it saved us $20, though that's a plus.

But it saved us time, and gave us a chance to get a drink before the show. And it made us both smile.

We spent more of today than usual in the car, to-and-fro-ing from home to event to home to event, including having to navigate unexpectedly around a parade.

So, it's not a big thing. It's not a profound thing. But nonetheless, today, I'm grateful for my husband's parking luck.

a casual friday night

2011-12-02T21:12:00.001-08:00

The last few months have been a whirlwind, as I've alluded to once or twice.
Mostly in completely awesome ways; I really can't complain about all the fabulous things we've done, the people we've spent time with, or the crazy workouts I've managed to squeeze in.

Some of those fabulous things will probably pop up more individually throughout the month.

However, it's been a little exhausting, and the holiday season promises to stay just as much of a cyclone.

Tonight, I came home from work, threw on the new running shoes I'm still undecided about, gave them a short but speedy test, and am now home for the evening, with El Bandito cooking a delicious dinner of braised greens, chickpeas, and couscous; a nice bottle of wine waiting for dinner to be ready; and no plans to leave the house until the morning. Time for a quiet evening in. Together.

lunch with a friend

2011-12-01T21:48:00.001-08:00

I actually took a lunch break today. Normally, I'm bad at doing that -- I'll take one to fit in a workout (or occasionally a walk with one of my friends) -- but generally, it's reheated leftovers grabbed at my desk.

But today, I left the office, took the train a few stops, and grabbed soup and salad with a pal. It was nice to catch up on his life -- it's got more drama in it than mine, currently, as he's moved in with a girlfriend and his parents have decided he'd going to hell (apparently, being in his 30s and single was preferable to living in sin). A cup of coffee, some rambling conversation...

It was nice to take 45 minutes out of my day and reconnect. And to step away from the pile of work on my desk. I took a deep breath on my way back and thought, I should do this more often. (Next week, I'm having lunch with El Bandito himself. That's awesome too).

Grateful for the conversation, the minor sense of "playing hooky" and the freedom to arrange my schedule to allow a calm Thursday lunch.

Gratitude.

2011-11-30T23:30:00.001-08:00

Yes, I know every one's done a Thanksgiving post already.

This isn't that.

Two, maybe three years ago, I found a lovely blog in December. She started a project called "30 days to a grateful heart" -- to consciously find, for the busy holiday season, things that made her thankful.

Last year, she invited people to join her.

It was certainly the most blog-posting I've ever done.
I didn't keep up the habit of blogging gratitude.

I will say, however, that the exercise made me more aware of the little things, and the big ones, that make up my days.

All the petty annoyances? All the cranky moods? Are, on any ledger sheet, more than offset by the sheer amount of awesome in my life.

Today, I'm starting another month of recognitions.
Today, I am thankful for the reminders. For this idea, and the community I saw last year around it.

Happy December, y'all.

woefully neglected (Friday 5)

2011-10-14T15:13:00.000-07:00

I think about returning to this blog every once in a while. Usually while biking to or from work, and then I don't sit down and do so.

The last few months have been jam-packed. Although, perhaps sadly, not packed with jam. Hmmm. It's almost time for apple butter and apple sauce season.
Too much to recount, especially when most of the handful of folks who read this interact with me more often than I seem to post. Perhaps eventually I'll update on the wonderful mountain hiking excursion, or seeing Casablanca with the symphony providing the soundtrack. Or dancing (albeit poorly) to Joan Baez singing not 4' away. Or not.

However, in preparation for another round of "30 days of a grateful heart" in December, I'm trying to regain a habit.

Five Things on a Friday

i) last night, I took another trapeze trick out of safety lines. and have two or three more that are almost there. I feel like I'm making progress, and it's a lovely feeling.

dos) I spent last weekend visiting friends in the pacific northwest. Nice to get a change of scenery, and detect autumn in the air and colors. It was a wonderful visit of walking and talking, but also somewhat sad, as their marriage has been quite rocky for the last year. They married the year before we did. I got home and took a deep breath in appreciation for the luck I have in my marriage.

3) I get to have dinner with friends and a nice bottle of wine that El Bandito and I brought back from our February adventure. I am looking forward to a lovely evening.

D) Tomorrow morning, I'm trying something new with my run -- I'm doing the first portion and then meeting a newly running friend for the last few miles to see how that goes. I think I'm slow; I know she's actually slower at this point, but I suspect I'll welcome that for the last bit. Then I get to have a day to work on household projects, which have been neglected too. See jampacked.

five) The building fire alarm went off and interrupted me. I won't actually consider that a sign.

running by feel

2011-07-03T21:20:00.000-07:00

I had to convince myself not to run on Friday evening. I'd had a week of intense workouts, and thought that perhaps, even though it was a beautiful evening, I should give my body a day off.

I more than made up for it at the circus gym the next morning, and added a lovely evening walk with El Bandito watching the waves.

Today, after a wonderful, decadent day with friends and cocktails, I decided I really didn't want to skip another run, despite the fact that I was Feeling Lazy. (That deserved capitalization.) It was a surprisingly warm and sunny day, but the breeze had kicked up.

After getting changed and tying my shoes, I spent 15 minutes trying to locate my Garmin. I knew I'd seen it. El Bandito knew he'd seen it recently too. Eventually, I blamed Gozer the Destroyer (our polydactyl cat, whose name is not actually Gozer, but it's one of his many and accurate nicknames. aka, "why we can't have nice things". He's not that bad, but we're easily amused.) and went ahead without the Garmin.

I didn't even look at the clock when I left the house. I know the approximate distances in my normal loops in the park, and planned to simply run one of them so that I could know how far I'd gone. I was taking it easy, though I didn't have a real sense of pace -- I still have no idea of how fast or slow I was going. I assume it was slow, especially given that my afternoon involved more than one tasty libation.

About 3/4 through my planned route, it suddenly occurred to me that it really did feel easy. I picked up the pace a little bit and then decided to push on past what would have been the final turn.

I only added another 1/2-3/4 of a mile, but it was nice to be running for the joy of it. And to walk into the house and be told that dinner was about 3 minutes from being done (thanks, Awesome El Bandito!)

And since it's a three-day weekend, I get a long bike ride and baking day tomorrow (as well as catching up on household and work items... sigh... never-ending laundry.)

why i run. or something like that.

2011-06-10T14:32:00.000-07:00

I always want to say something clever, at least with the title.

But that just means this sits quiescent for long periods.

Daily life is a bit of a whirlwind sometimes.

I ran another 5k "race" last weekend. A beautiful course. I half-jokingly referred to it as "too much estrogen in one place" as it was a "woman-oriented" race -- a fundraiser for a girls' charity, sponsored by a local women's running clothing shop. Fun, but not particularly well-organized, at least in the ways I wanted it to be.

It did make me think about my "athletic" goals for the next few months. There are people I know who have racing seasons (some of which are extreme, some of which just involve impressive triathlons).

I'm by nature a fairly competitive person. But that's actually NOT why I'm doing this. Especially the running. I run for the moving meditation, when it happens. I run for the ability to let things percolate and think through. I run the for sensation of slightly labored breathing and tired legs and the satisfaction of having gotten up that hill. I run because it doesn't require a gym, or special equipment beyond good shoes and a good sports bra -- it's just there. I run to see different parts of my city, my surroundings. I run to increase my stamina for the trapeze.

Yes, it all comes back to the trapeze at some point or another.

I don't run fast. Or far. I'm working on both those things. But that's not why I run.

and it's good to remember. I run because I love to. Not because I have to. Not because I want to beat someone, even myself.

the fact that it burns off my over-indulgences in wine and ice-cream doesn't hurt either...

restless

2011-04-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

Springtime makes me restless.

I came back from our fabulous vacation feeling ready for a major change, though not certain what that change needed to be.

I'm still not certain.

The month following involved a serious work crunch, and readjusting expectations after no longer having a trapeze-related performance goal, thanks to the financial chaos the circus school found itself in.

I took a business trip (related to that serious work crunch). On the flight on the way back, I had a meandering conversation with the soldier next to me. He said that I just lit up when talking about trapeze. It's still my passion. I can't imagine running off to join the circus -- my body's just not that resilient any more. So I'm still training hard, but not with a direction. I suspect that contributes to my restlessness.

Setting running goals. Thinking about career directions and opportunities. Dreaming of moving to "middle earth". Planning more vacations. Researching adventure trips.

I'm still restless.

mixed bag

2011-03-26T16:26:00.001-07:00

I got back from a three-week vacation two weeks ago, and it seems like forever. It was an excellent vacation, full of minor adventures, a lot of relaxation, good food and gorgeous scenery.

And sheep.

And penguins.

Things have been a mixed bag since I returned, however. My circus school is in the midst of restructuring and moderate upheaval. One of my coaches left. And my favorite class has been cancelled -- I can take the "same" class on a different day, and will, but I really liked that particular time slot for many reasons.

And work has been ornerous at times. Re-entry never is easy after a fabulous vacation, I suppose. I knew there were some unresolved issues to address when I got back.

However, I did say it was a mixed bag. And that indicates good along with cranky.

Finding out I've been put forward for a raise/promotion, a year ahead of schedule.

A run in the light rain. Slow, but felt surprisingly easy considering how little running I've done in the last 6 weeks. Longer than I'd intended, because of the ease.

Walking into the house and finding dinner was mostly ready.

Trying flying trapeze for the first time ever. Oh, I love my static trapeze; I'm not giving it up! But it was fun to try a new aerial apparatus. Scary, but fun. Oddly, once I was flying, it wasn't scary, but waiting for takeoff was a bit unnerving.

A long catch-up phone call with a good friend. This too a mixed-bag, in that said friend is facing some major life decisions with fairly tight time deadlines. But still very very good to talk.

Tonight, a casual dinner date with my husband. Tomorrow, a hike with a friend, rain or shine.

and now, back to work.

it's bad timing and me...

2011-03-12T21:30:00.000-08:00

... we find a lot of things out that way.

(yet another song lyric from my college years)

A month ago, I did something that scared me conceptually: I auditioned for the Circus Center showcase. Don't get me wrong -- just because it scared me didn't mean it wasn't something I really wanted to do. I've been wanting to do this for more than a year, and the freak ankle injury last July completely ruined last year's opportunity.

Actually doing it? Far less scary. I didn't mess it up, which is really all I wanted. I knew I'd done well enough technically that if I didn't get in, it was because my act didn't fit with the ideas the directors had for the show.

What I wasn't counting on?

Mismanagement and complete non-profit chaos that almost resulted in the school being shut down permanently. Less than a week after the auditions (and I was the first audition on the first day of auditions; 2 days of auditions were being held two weeks apart), the board of directors notified all the staff and faculty that they couldn't make payroll past that day. I'm fairly certain that the board wouldn't like me publicizing that fact, but it's not exactly secret knowledge.

A lot has happened in the intervening three weeks, I believe for the better. Many of the previous board members resigned. There's been restructuring. A new Executive Director. More serious fundraising efforts. I've been hearing about this in snippets for the last three weeks, as I've been on holiday far far away from the circus (in more ways than one). One of the casualties, however, at least temporarily?

The showcase.

Which had been scheduled for 3 weeks from now.

and has now been postponed, delayed, or canceled, tbd.

There are thousands of things more important than my crankiness about all this. But I am cranky about it -- it just seems like something's always off with the timing. First being sick for Muddy Buddy last year, then the ankle injury which still isn't 100%, now this. Grumble.

and there yet may be a performance opportunity in the midst of all of it -- at least one of the fundraising ideas will be an open house, presumably with a short show.

still. bad timing.

ah well. other doors will open.

every step

2011-02-10T22:56:00.001-08:00

last weekend, I ran a 5k race in the park.

it's truly my backyard race. I did it for the first time last year, on far too little sleep and far too much stress. Last year, I had a time goal, and a secondary time goal and a "run every step". I made the secondary time goal, but neither of the others.

this year, I had a simple goal. Run it.

Overall, I was slower. ~0:30/mile slower. Notably slower.

But I ran it.

All of it.

despite the ankle.

despite the fact that I've been training trapeze, doing prep hikes for an upcoming trip, working too much.

despite the fact that run training was squeezed in.

and that some times I realized that between all these activities, I hadn't a day without a serious workout for >2 weeks. yes, it's a balance of strength and cardio. yes, it's different muscles. but sometimes, the body just wants a day off.

despite the fact that it was a good 15-20 degrees warmer than my preferred and usual run temperature.

despite all that.

I ran it. Slow and steady and negative-split. and managed not to be too disappointed in my time. I knew I hadn't trained for a better time.

and then hung out while a friend finished her walk/run version and laughed when she turned to me and said "I was smiling when I crossed the finish line and this is all your fault." another one hooked.

followed by a lovely breakfast at a cafe reading the paper in the sun with El Bandito, then a short hike in the woods. Ok, the hike was longer than the run :)

February's been busy.

This Sunday's an audition with my trapeze piece. Nervous.

milestones.

2011-02-04T20:34:00.000-08:00

Trapeze isn't a sport where you compete, really (although there are amazing elite circus competitions). And that's not to say that aerialists aren't competitive. We're supportive and friendly to each other, and excited when someone does something impressive or unique. But we are competitive.

It's a little like ice-skating. Or gymnastics. And a little bit like dance.

But there aren't necessarily specific tricks that are benchmarks. There aren't meets or races; there isn't a scoring system. Measuring progress can be difficult sometimes.

One reason I do trapeze is the way it pushes me to constantly challenge myself, to push myself past a comfort level and do things which scare me.

You learn some tricks in safety lines, so that you can be caught when (not if) you fall off the bar or land awkwardly in the process of learning a trick.

Today, I finally took a trick out of safety lines that I've been working on for a very long time. It's not actually that difficult, just somewhat risky. From standing on the trapeze to ankle hang.

Finally out of lines.

There's a glass of bubbly on the coffee table to celebrate tonight. Only one -- I'm running a 5K this weekend and working on my routine for an audition for the circus center's showcase. The one I'd hoped to do in August, before the ankle went kerplooey.

But I am grinning. Finally. And it felt good. Solid. No hesitation.

That's a milestone.

some days are bouncers who won't let you in.*

2011-01-26T22:58:00.000-08:00

Some runs are easy.

Some runs are hard.

Sometimes you can predict which its going to be, either by distance or training plan or even how you feel starting out.

And sometimes you can't.

True. Self-evident.

But worth repeating.

Last week, I had a wonderful run. Which I went into with no expectations for speed or even distance, but both were respectable. And more than that, it just felt easy.

I fully expected tonight's short run to be miserable. I'm attempting to fight off the bug that seems to be felling my friends, and I've definitely been a little under the weather. In fact, I skipped Monday's run because I just felt fatigued and I hadn't given my body a full rest day in two weeks. So Monday was just my usual bike commute and a nice stroll with El Bandito.

Since I'd skipped Monday's run, I didn't want to skip tonight. And I am the woman who claims to believe trapeze cures the common cold.** However, I expected it to be hard.

And ... it wasn't, really. My breathing was more labored than I'd hoped. My legs felt slightly leaden, and all I really wanted was to flop on the sofa with a book.

And then it was done. And it wasn't so bad. I certainly didn't feel any sicker than when I left the house.

There will be more hard runs, I'm sure. And more easy ones. And eventually, as the ankle gets stronger again, longer ones.

____________________

and now, with footnotes!

* I've never actually had this happen to me, but I love the lyric and it seemed like a good title. And I've certainly had days like that, metaphorically.

** Actually, I'm far too much of a scientist to really believe that. But I claim it anyway whenever I'm ailing and El Bandito questions my intelligence when I go to the circus gym anyway.

gratitude, a list to start the year

2011-01-02T20:37:00.000-08:00

The last few days of the year, I just felt too reclusive to try and get words down for a final day of gratitude.

Not because I'm not grateful. For things big and little. (For fish red and blue).

Because I am. Because this project, started by Jote and expanded outward at her invitation, has had the lovely effect of making me appreciate so many of the tiny things that make my days so bright. and thus, a list of gratitudes, great and small.

1. home. these walls, this space. on a fundamental level (having shelter, my needs met) but also on a more etherial one. that there's a large apartment, full of my life. where I'm happy.

2. a glass of wine on a Sunday night. or any night, but it happens to be Sunday as I start this.

3. the women with whom I walk, individually. No metaphors here, but there are 3 women with whom I semi-frequently walk. Women with whom my friendships have developed in the regular pace of our strides through the city. Sometimes it takes a week or a month of emails to fit our schedules, but it's a wonderful combination of fresh air and conversation.

4. travel, and coming home.

5. photographs. El Bandito has become the photographer in our relationship. Sometimes, it frustrates me when he stops to capture something on a trailside and I want to keep going, but I love having our lives documented. And he's a damn good photographer too.

6. dogs. Not our dogs, sadly -- living in an urban apartment and having very full lives has made having dogs nigh unto impossible. In college, I used to borrow a couple of fabulous canine companions, and I miss them. and the jumbled joy of canine company.

7. the great lake. Oh, I know there are 5 of them, but only one of them is *my* lake. I got a few strolls lakeside, with its wide-open horizon and cold winds, in our recent travels. it's a touchstone.

8. the way this set of posts reminded me of how lucky I am to have the partner I do, but also showed me that other people are just as fully intertwined with the loves-of-their-lives as I am. Especially poignant for me in that two of our good friends separated in December; I don't know whether their roads will converge again and it's a tricky balancing act because I care about them both, individually. So it was reassuring, comforting and delightful to read half-a-dozen posts of strong women loving. And to know someone else tosses her book onto her husband's pillow rather than turn over.

9. running two easy miles on a rainy Sunday. my ankle didn't complain. my lungs didn't complain. it felt easy again.

10. the fridge is full of tasty and healthy ingredients.

11. starting off the new year with a clean bedroom, even if we haven't unpacked our suitcases. El Bandito attacked the room with a vigor .

12. a cat melted across my legs. these cats. the hours of entertainment and purring snuggles. their predecessors, who taught me life lessons in a way I can't explain.

13. lack of obligation to finish this in a timely manner, as 48 hours elapsed while I worked and edited a freelance job and went for another run.

14. merino wool shirts. I bought one for hiking in 2009, and quickly added several more when I realized how perfect they were for drizzly weather or as a base layer.

15. catching an hour's stroll with a friend between the holidays and her departure on vacation. a quick catch-up.

16. the passing of the solstice and the growing length of the days. I know it's only a few minutes, but the difference out my office window at 4 pm is astounding.

17. precision.

18. being awed. I know that might sound odd, but sometimes, the world is so astounding, there's no other word. that my life is so full of things that can truly overwhelm me with their beauty or brilliance? something to be grateful for indeed.

19. vacation time. limited, but needed. and concurrently, the tickets we just bought to go to an island antipode known for nocturnal flightless birds and the setting for a trilogy of movies.

20. napkins, silverware, glass food storage containers -- somehow, eating with real utensils out of a glass dish makes leftovers at my desk a more enjoyable experience than plastic.

21. the wonders of the internet. not just for the connections with random strangers, but for the reconnection with old friends.

22. the way that this project enticed and challenged me to actually post to my neglected blog.

Nowhere near all the things or people that ought to be on a list of gratitude, but enough to start the year on the right note. Enough to remind me that my life is truly a grand adventure. Perhaps, even, enough to bring me back to add to this list throughout the year.

reason, season, lifetime.

2010-12-30T21:03:00.000-08:00

a few "imaginary" friends (as I sometimes refer to the people I know only through the virtual world of the internet) of mine have posted beautiful posts in the past on the idea that people come into our lives for reasons, for seasons, and sometimes for lifetimes.

Whether or not I agree with that categorization, there's something special about the long-term connections. The "lifetime" friends.

The people who have known you through the awkward periods. Who have seen you bawl over inanities, celebrated the good moments with you.

With whom you literally have decades of history. and the stories can be referenced with a few words.

Tomorrow, I might be grateful for the friends I've made in the last 1,5,10, or 20 years. Heck, I'm always grateful for these friends.

But tonight, an extra bit of gratitude for the friend I've known for more than 2/3 of our lives. El Bandito and I had a drink with her and her new husband (married in May, second marriages for them both) tonight. May her happiness last this time. And may we always fall back into the easy rhythms of conversation and love. We've fallen half-out-of-touch so many times. Our paths diverge. And yet?

I was among the first people she called when her mother died.

She saw my engagement ring before I did.

We've watched hockey games together, in person and by phone.

Cried happy tears at weddings and used far too many long-distance phone cycles.

And there's the certain knowledge I can pick up the phone at any time, and if it actually matters, she'll be there.

birthday wishes

2010-12-29T22:10:00.001-08:00

Besides El Bandito bringing me coffee this morning, I woke up to a Happy Birthday email from an unexpected source.

The day brought a multitude of birthday greetings. Lots on FaceBook, a handful of emails, in person wishes as well.

It made me smile. Some were simple two-word notes; others a bit more developed (promises of plans, sweet comments). But it made me remember how lucky I am to have good friends. Long-time friends, new acquaintances.

Thanks for all the birthday love, y'all.

the neighbors

2010-12-28T21:10:00.001-08:00

Not my neighbors.

In fact, one of the few regrets I have about where we live is that I don't really know my neighbors. My neighborhood, yes. The older man who runs the corner convenience store. The dog who lives across the street. But my neighbors? Not really.

El Bandito and I arrived back from our adventure in the Windy City to my parents' home just in time to turn around and cross the street to a gathering of friends.

My parents have lived on the same block for over 30 years. The block has changed, but there is a core group of people who have lived here for 10-30 years, with my folks being some of the longest-term residents.

And they're friends, not just to nod hello to, but to celebrate with, to mourn with.

Tonight's gathering was a holiday celebration, and a chance for the (grown) children of the block to recongregate -- and to visit with the other long-term members of the block. Most of the "block kids" are younger than I am. I got a lot of baby-sitting jobs in my teens. Now those same kids are adults. Some of them came for the holidays. It's neat to see the adults they've turned into.

But more than that, it's lovely to see how chance has formed such a community over the years. To see my parents greeted with hugs (by block residents and returning offspring alike), to be greeted with hugs and chided to move closer. The teasing and the affection that have grown over decades of experience with each other.

And to know that my parents have nearby friends looking out for them.

mini-vacations (gratitude, post delayed)

2010-12-27T21:01:00.000-08:00

El Bandito and I ran away.

We do this almost every year now on the annual holiday family visit -- as much as I do love visiting my family, this break we've instituted? Helps everyone.

We ran away.

We spent a lovely afternoon at the art museum in the Windy City, some time browsing in a bookstore (mostly used books). Wandering city streets and imagining ourselves living in that apartment. Kicking snow at each other.

Dinner, with a wonderful bottle of wine at half-price because Monday nights are half-price wine at the little restaurant we chose at random.

Laughter.

Touching base.

Drinking a little more than we should.

Strolling hand-in-hand back to the b-and-b.

Laughing, again, as El Bandito crashes to sleep before I do.

Comfortable bed to nestle in. Good coffee to wake up to.

Time to stroll by the lakeshore, see how the ice has coated the trees.

Time to reconnect and strengthen our little world-of-two. There's room for so much more when we're solidly together. These times? They don't have to be deep conversations, although they allow for them. It's about being together. Running away and running toward.

I don't...

2010-12-26T20:56:00.000-08:00

... have a difficult relationship with my parents.

Among many of my friends, this makes me a bit of an oddball. My friends surround themselves with "chosen family" and I'm so glad they can and that they and we have those bonds. It seems to surprise people, however, that planned visits to my family aren't stressors (other than the hazards of travel itself). Oh, we can get in some spats all right, and my sister and I have a much better relationship by phone than in person, where facial expressions can push buttons. But my parents?

We play card games where we make up the rules.

My mother sometimes tells me to "shush" because a quick glance between us can speak volumes.

My father and I trade barbs with aim and yet no malice.

a lifetime of stories and inside jokes.

I started this month of gratitude with a visit from my parents, but I don't think it's cheating to say it again, that I'm so thankful to have the relationship with them that I do. They've had enough very serious health issues in the last few years that I am repeatedly grateful to have these visits, where there's still joy and ease and traditions and teasing. I know that some day, my return to this house will be for sad reasons.

but not this one. and I'll take every minute of it.

traveling for the holidays...

2010-12-24T21:19:00.000-08:00

(a short one for a chaotic day)

smooth flights

good books

and airport margaritas

arriving and actually having luggage arrive

being greeted with hugs

wrapping the gifts that were sent ahead or ordered online and shipped

being with family on this Christmas Eve.

coffee break

2010-12-23T21:49:00.000-08:00

an afternoon break, grabbed from the busy day.

free-ranging conversation.

hot tasty coffee, with the mug warming your hands.

a little bit of stolen time, a resetting of the pace.

too many things snowballing to get done.

these days are packed

wonderfully. zanily. happily.

but packed.

and sometimes, twenty minutes of chatter and

a hot beverage open a little space in the day.

having health insurance

2010-12-22T22:24:00.000-08:00

Having health insurance doesn't seem like something two relatively healthy people should need to think about enough to be grateful for. And health insurance doesn't quite resonate with the heart-warming gratitude of so many other of these posts. And yet?

My ankle has cost a lot of money despite having good insurance.

And taken a lot of time to heal.

It could have been so very much worse.

had I torn another centimeter, it could have required surgery.

I've bitched about the slowness of healing this injury.

But I'm not complaining about my physical therapist or my sports medicine people. I am grateful to them for setting limits. For making me respect just how effed I managed to make my ankle in one very efficient missed step.

El Bandito has incurred an injury of his own. Tweaked his knee somehow. Hopefully very minor.I have suggested to him that it might be a RSI from sewing (heavy duty industrial sewing machine).

He thinks it likely.

But having decent health insurance means we don't have to wait it out. That he can have it checked before we fly across the country. That we both get some reassurance.

and that I can laugh at him for having a sewing injury, once we know it's nothing major.

It's a ridiculous thing in some ways, but I am so grateful to have decent coverage. And to be able to afford the copays and treatments.

long beach, vancouver island

2010-12-21T22:06:00.000-08:00

Years ago, El Bandito and I took a vacation. (Oh, we've taken some since. There was a long hiatus in the dark days of my dissertation, but we know that we need time away from our daily lives, and there's quite a world to explore.)

But on that vacation, more than a decade ago, we ended up on the west coast of Vancouver Island.

We camped at a lovely spot down miles of rough logging road. Right on a pebbly beach, with skillfully created driftwood furniture. Crappy camping food that tasted fantastic, and good wine.

From our campsite, we could watch black bears crabbing on the beach.

And from that campsite, we drove up to Long Beach, Vancouver Island. Which is exactly as it sounds, long.

We ate peanut butter sandwiches on a large driftwood log.

We watched sea lions frolicking offshore.

and later on that vacation, we went to a small gallery on Salt Spring Island.

I fell in love with a print.

It was a lot of money.

Even with the fabulous exchange rate at the time.

I bought a beautiful wood bowl as a wedding present instead.

and petted the gorgeous gallery dog as often as the owner would allow.

and later, El Bandito and I bought the print.

and had it framed.

in one house, it lived on a living room wall.

in our current flat, it hangs on the bedroom wall, and it's one of the first things I see in the morning.

I don't know if that's the exact driftwood tree we sat on, although we tell the story that it is.

It's part of the story of us. of picnics and road trips and bears.

I wake up to that print.

Depending on the lighting, it's melancholy or joyful.

Much like the beach itself, I suppose.

I love waking up to that beach, and hearing the waves in my head.

for this, and you.

2010-12-20T22:02:00.000-08:00

rhis.

the reminder to remember.

the reminder to be grateful.

the reminder that stumbling blocks happen.

but that they are sometimes irritants rather than obstacles.

and even when they're obstacles, sometimes obstacle courses are challenges not just frustrations.

the reminder to take a moment and step back.

to cherish the good things in my life and my day.

to remember that, even when my boss makes me cranky, I'm still working and that I'm cranky because I want the science done right and that's a worthwhile goal.

to remember that I am loved.

to remember that coming back from injury is slow, but that forward progress should be celebrated.

for words on the internet that connect me.

for the reminders.

for the time.

for all this, I am grateful.

brunch. a meal to be grateful for.

2010-12-19T22:45:00.000-08:00

challah french toast w/ orange butter.

spinach and goat cheese frittata

bloody marys

mimosas

coffee (and coffee and coffee)

but also...

friends.

laughter.

stories.

relaxed conversation.

and the house is clean and ready for the week ahead.

connections

2010-12-18T21:51:00.000-08:00

hearing Louis Armstrong at the ballet and thinking of my wedding day.

reading words from distant friends and feeling closer to them.

rolling over in the morning to be wrapped up in El Bandito's arms before facing the day.

talking to my mother on the phone and laughing.

an unexpected touch at the right moment, that says "I'm here" and doesn't demand.

and I think to myself...

2010-12-17T23:24:00.000-08:00

what a wonderful world.

we played Louis Armstrong at our wedding reception -- a custom mix cd of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

To this day, I wish I'd been able to find an audio track of Louis doing "Here comes the bride" to use at our wedding. He performed it at the end of the movie High Society and I've been looking for it ever since.

That man. That voice. That trumpet. and that joy.

Tomorrow promises to be a rainy blustery day of errands and editing; I think I just chose my soundtrack again.

love in a blanket.

2010-12-16T21:57:00.001-08:00

My mother is the knitter in the family.

El Bandito laughs at my collection of hand-knit sweaters, most of which I don't get to wear regularly in this mild but damp and windy climate. Laughs, because I still want more.

And there are comfy slipper socks, a hat or two to warm my head. Scarves.

And then, there are the afghans.

I've had mine since sometime in college. I don't know when I got it, exactly.

Only that I've carried it from place to place.

The one in the photo is technically El Bandito's, and if I remember correctly, it was given to him while he was still officially the "sin-in-law" (my mother's affectionate term for both of her sons-in-law prior to wedding ceremonies). But it's the one wrapped around my feet at the moment, and thus the appropriate one for a post about gratitude for the afghan. Also, the one within reach of my camera phone without making me get up.

They're not exotic yarns. Some acrylic blend that can be tossed in the washer and dryer. They've stretched; my afghan is a complex polygon with somewhat abstractly curved sides rather than a precise square at this point.

At various points, they've been hijacked by cats; our "little starter" cat would sleep on an afghan whenever it was in her sight -- she'd start to purr just seeing it. In her last days, either afghan was often gently puddled on the floor for her to nestle in.

They've been tossed on the beds over the comforter on cool nights. Wrapped around feet or over laps when we're sitting with computers or books or watching movies snuggled on the couch.

And everytime I grab one, or toss it over my feet, or ball it up to throw it in the laundry, I think of my mother, her skill and her love. I'd be grateful enough for all that an afghan is, even without the sentiment. But with it? Precious indeed.

El Bandito, aka It's About Time

2010-12-15T21:10:00.000-08:00

Because...

I thought about lifting jote's post about her marriage almost wholesale, because she said it so well. About growing together, or on parallel paths. How lucky she was, how lucky I am, that those decisions made in our youth have nurtured our souls so well.

Where do I start this?.A power outage an eternity ago. Or maybe... six months after that, when with all the drama and passion of the young, I made him promise to some day ask me to marry him. I don't think I ever expected it would happen. But we rewrite those stories too, don't we?

Maybe the reason I'm having trouble starting is that I want to

believe this, this partnership, this marriage, transcends a beginning, or an ending. It's a story in the middle and it will always be in the middle because it's constantly evolving.

Today is El Bandito's birthday.

We were so very very young when we met.

I never would have predicted where we are now, in so many different ways.

He has always made me laugh.

But now? All it takes is the right word, the inside joke, the raised eyebrow or the ridiculous expression, and I am laughing so hard I'm breathless.

He has often made me melt unpredictably with a small gesture. A hand on my shoulder, the way he brushes my hair off my face.

He supports my crazy ideas (and I'm full of crazy ideas and crazy plans, though I tone down my adventuresome imaginings for him sometimes.) Ideas that say I want to learn trapeze, or how to blow glass -- neither of which I could have ever conceived of trying without his encouragement. Ideas that say I want to try canyoneering, or how about we go up this mountain? Can we try this alpine route? My hiking whims and outdoor needs have led us to silent alpine meadows and treacherous rocky ledges; his love of urban landscapes have brought us on city adventures. Sometimes, he reels me in.

We complement, in ways I could never have imagined.

We sometimes complete each others' sentences (other times, he grumbles at me for not finishing mine).

There's no perfection here. There are scars and frustrations and grumbles of daily life. And yet? There's nothing I would trade this for (though he might wish I was a wife who did the dishes more frequently or made dinner rather than fancy desserts).

Happy Birthday, El Bandito. I will always be grateful for the gift you are in my life.

For the laughs

For the synonym-toast and acrobats

For putting up with my tossing my book onto your pillow when you're up later than I am, because I'm too lazy to roll over and put it on the nightstand.

For never objecting when I decide a friend needs to be fed.

For fighting through your acrophobia when I decide the best hike we could possibly do requires a mile stretch of narrow, slippery ledge.

For putting up with me in the dark years of my dissertation depression.

For butternut squash pizza and a bottle of wine.

For the way you're constantly thinking about your latest idea, whether work, or project, or even video game. I tease you about your obsessive nature, but I also love you for it.

For loving me.

For love—I would

split open your head and put

a candle in

behind the eyes.

Love is dead in us

if we forget

the virtues of an amulet

and quick surprise.

-- Robert Creeley

an ordinary day

2010-12-14T20:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I said it was the details to be grateful for.

And it is, as well as the big things, of which there are plenty.

Today, however, I was finding it difficult to be grateful. Not for anything of import. No sad news, no family issues, no drama that needs to be resolved. Just ... not feeling particularly grateful. A little grouchy.

So I sat down to write this, and the cat jumped up on my lap and El Bandito's in the kitchen making dinner and I thought...

I *am* grateful today. Grateful for the ordinary day. For the cat trying to steal my morning yogurt. For the coffee. For the job which sometimes frustrates me, sometimes makes me feel underutilized, but lets me spend my free time playing in circus school. an expensive habit, this trapeze business. For the flexibility in the job that lets me spend a little extra time in the morning with El Bandito. For the view from my office window, as distracting as it sometimes is. For the bike rides to and from work. For the rain. Sometimes, an ordinary day is just what you need.

gratitude, sometime's it's the details

2010-12-13T21:42:00.000-08:00

small things.

getting to bike home with El Bandito due to serendipitous timing

a bowl of hot soup on a chill night

purring cat stretched across my lap

a lunchtime workout slid into the day without complicated scheduling (rarer than it seems it ought to be.

an email from a friend offering a networking connection; grateful for both the contact and for the fact she thought of me.

unexpected christmas cards in the mail

starry night of gratitude

2010-12-12T19:52:00.000-08:00

Today I got to stare at this.

Not a print.

Not a representation on the internet.

But Van Gogh's actual painting.

There were a number of fabulous paintings in the exhibit.

A Seurat sketch of the circus done in primary colors that was somehow so entirely vibrant, joyful and alive; I found the fully painted finished version on the internet after the exhibit and liked the sketch so much more.

But I got to stare at Van Gogh's Starry Night on the Rhone. In person.

That's enough to be grateful for, and I am.

But El Bandito also just spoiled me rotten with an early Christmas/birthday/New Year's present.

I continue to be an extremely lucky woman.

vegetable box

2010-12-11T23:50:00.000-08:00

red kuri squash soup

roasted sweet potatoes, sauteed napa cabbage served with jote's tofu (which has become a staple recipe in this house since I rediscovered it)

salad greens w/ fresh dill and sweet sweet carrots

these are a few of the things we've eaten in the last week that have come from our vegetable box (ok, the tofu didn't, but I included it anyway)

Sometimes, picking up the box seems like an extra step in an already overcrowded week (although El Bandito usually does it on his way home by bike, and sometimes we'll manage to connect to ride the rest of the way together; that's enjoyable.)

but having a wide variety of seasonable, tasty, "locally*" grown organic vegetables and fresh farm eggs? (and a husband that makes me very tasty things with them?) I love that.

oh the places you'll go...

2010-12-10T22:21:00.000-08:00

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

(Excerpted from Dr. Seuss, of course)

...

today's gratitude: the places I've gone, the places my feet have taken me. the mountains, the canyons, the beaches, the parks. the city streets.

and the places I'll go, the adventures yet to happen.

bruised and thankful for it

2010-12-09T21:07:00.000-08:00

No, this isn't an epic tale of how I'm grateful for surviving some horrible accident with only a few bruises.

Nor is it precisely a story about how we should be thankful for the bruises and scars that mark us, make us who we are.

Not precisely, anyway.

It's about this:

When I finished my doctorate, I promised myself I would find an entirely different challenge, a physical one rather than an intellectual one.

My life would have been so much simpler had I fallen in with triathletes back then. Certainly, a triathlon would have fit the criteria. Or even a marathon.

But I always did have to be different.

I kept walking past a circus school, thinking "if only I was a kid, I could try gymnastics classes there! I could be an acrobat!" I assumed only kids or professionals could go to circus school.

One day, I looked at their web site. There was a class entitled "Absolute Beginning Static Trapeze". I signed up.

I was humbled that first class. I didn't know how incredibly weak I was. I was sore for days afterwards. But also hooked.

It hasn't been a straightforward journey, and I'll never be much more than a mediocre aerialist. It isn't about performing for me, although that's a challenge I'm looking forward to. It's the challenge, the absorption. The coming home with bruises and rope burn and sore muscles and knowing it's from hard work and that I am making progress.

The way I lose track of time, and I don't think about work. Or whatever else might be demanding my attention.

That when I'm on the bar, I only think about where this hand goes, where that foot needs to be, how do I make this look pretty, what's the timing on that move to get around.

That I can do pullups without thinking about them.

That I've gotten so much stronger, learned to push myself harder.

That I've come back to the trapeze after a serious shoulder injury and subsequent injury, that I could commit to that process. That I could be patient enough to not push past the limits, but also care enough to keep pushing.

The friends I've made. Circus folks are a quirky group. And it's sometimes really amazing to me that I fit in (don't get me wrong, I know I'm quirky! But not quite the same manner of quirky, I would have thought).

All of these things.

And so much inexplicable more.

Trapeze.

post-injury running

2010-12-08T20:15:00.000-08:00

athletic tape.

shoes.

ice pack for the inevitable soreness after I've pushed a healing ankle a wee bit more than it was ready for.

slow improvements.

I'll take 'em.

I have a love-hate relationship with running.

But having been told I couldn't for >4 months?

I'll take what I can get.

Some time ago in this blog, I wrote:

I am, in my opinion, a mediocre aerialist. But that's not why I do it.

When I'm working on the trapeze, I Put Everything Aside. There's no room for other thoughts.

When I run, I Sort Things Out. Sometimes it's conscious, a thinking through as I run; sometimes it's just reaching a state where things settle in to my brain.

It's nice to be in motion again.

elixir of waking

2010-12-07T21:23:00.000-08:00

I am spoiled.

My morning, as often as not, starts with the arrival of a freshly brewed cup of coffee inches away from my face.

Some mornings, I wander into the kitchen before it's time to depress the plunger on the press, but other mornings, El Bandito delivers my coffee to me.

And he makes damn fine coffee.

I love my morning coffee. Not just for the welcome caffeine (although I can do without).

For the ritual, and the comfort of wrapping my hands around the hot mug.

For the love it represents when it shows up on my nightstand.

For the taste. As a child, I despised the taste of coffee while loving the smell. Sometime in my teen years, that changed.

I love the random cup of coffee with a friend in an afternoon. There's something about drinking a cup of hot coffee that slows down the rhythm of the conversation.

But today, I am grateful for that morning coffee delivery.

*image lifted from somewhere on the internet. thanks, anonymous internet image search.

full days and laughter

2010-12-06T22:53:00.000-08:00

Mondays are ... well, Mondays around here. The scurrying to get out the door in the morning, trying to make sure that I have everything I might need for the day in my bag (gym clothes, work appropriate attire if I'm wearing bicycle-commuting clothes, shoes, lunch, snacks, warm sweater, keys, wallet, phone, id card). Breakfast. Rushing.

Which isn't to say Mondays are bad days, just that it's easy to get into the weekend flow.

Today was very full. Busy at work, a lunchtime pilates workout that boosted my mood immensely, and the afternoon flew by until it was time to run home, feed the beasts and meet El Bandito to attend an astronomy lecture at the science museum.

And then pizza, salad, discussion of dark matter and lots of laughter with good friends.

Now, it's time to do ankle exercises and the nightly cleanup before starting another jam-packed day tomorrow. But first, a moment to appreciate that my days are packed with fun, interesting things.

gratitude, day 5

2010-12-05T18:15:00.000-08:00

As I stretched lazily this morning, I thought "today's gratitude post will be clean sheets". A small thing, but somehow a joy nonetheless.

I promptly followed that thought by dumping half my coffee on the bedding.
I had to laugh at the timing. And another load of laundry gets added to the day.

It has been a lovely, lazy rainy Sunday despite that abrupt beginning.

Today I am grateful for ...
clean sheets (and being able to do laundry whenever I want).
the promise of soup for dinner (and the fact that El Bandito is a fabulous cook).
getting some freelance projects finished ahead of deadline.

But more than any of those, nice as they are?

the walk I had with El Bandito this afternoon, strolling in the drizzle (and then the rain), watching the waves and the birds and dogs frolicking in the surf. My shoes are wet and the damn ankle brace is a little muddy, but it was a wonderful way to spend an hour of my lazy Sunday.

Autumn leaves

2010-12-04T19:51:00.000-08:00

I live in a city of great beauty, but it doesn't really have the same seasons I grew up with. For example, the days are shortened and the nights are colder now, and one could call it winter. El Bandito and I often say "Spring comes early and often."

However, this place doesn't really do autumn. Summer visits in October. Oh, some leaves turn brown, the grass gets greener with the rainy season starting, and the light changes. "Autumn" light is truly beautiful here, but I miss those crisp fall days of my childhood and college years.

My mother brought me a small ziploc bag of beautifully colored pressed autumn leaves, and they make me smile (albeit a little wistfully) every time I look at them.

there's a book...

2010-12-03T20:51:00.000-08:00

waiting for me to put down my computer.
not a particularly special book - in fact, it could be any of several.

I have always been a reader, though not quite to the extent my sister was (and is). She's the type of reader who can immerse herself in a book so thoroughly that she can tune out most of the outside world.

I'm a little bit more easily distracted.
However, I'm also an absurdly fast reader, and even a good novel may only last me an hour. A friend of mine once commented "you've probably read more really good books and more lousy books than anyone I know" because I have a hard time giving up on a book once I start it.

And I know that this Christmas, just like every Christmas I can recall, there will be a box of library books under the tree to be devoured over the holidays.

So today's gratitude? Public libraries. For feeding my addiction to the written word. For not making me pay for the privilege. For making information available for people who need it. For giving free internet, for having rooms full of children's books and storytimes, for their programs and lectures and all those good things.

sometimes he probably thinks I don't like it...

2010-12-02T21:29:00.000-08:00

... But El Bandito is noodling around on his guitar (before turning back to work on his computer).

I like the sound of live music in my house, especially since I lack any musical talent whatsoever.

More than that, however, is the joy it brings me to remember those days oh so long ago when we'd first met and he'd play me to sleep. Sometimes over the phone, sometimes in person.

Small things, random moments. Still special.

cold, crisp air. or, gratitude: my commute

2010-12-01T19:37:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've made a secret of the fact I commute by bicycle. I could say that I do so for environmental reasons, and it's true that I am glad my lifestyle doesn't require me to drive to work.

I used to walk to work, and someday, when I have two fully functional ankles again, I probably will intermittently do so again.

Even walking is more efficient than taking transit, thanks to the geography and transit routing in my vicinity.

Seriously, the primary reason behind my bike commute is my complete lack of patience. I'd rather be moving than not.

However, I have an awesome commute, by bicycle or walking. I go through one of this country's great urban park, passing museums, fountains, people doing tai-chi. Dogs chasing balls. Hawks screaming in the trees above me.

This morning, I biked a little extra to fully take it in again. I could be stuck in stop-and-go traffic. I could be in a sardine-can of a train, breathing other people's perfume. I could be in a bus, jerking slowly to my destination.

Instead, I get to start my workday with fresh, crisp autumn air and beautiful sights.

30 days of gratitude

2010-11-30T10:16:00.000-08:00

Last December, I stumbled on the blog of a college friend. She was doing a daily gratitude post for the month of December, and it was delightful to get glimpses into her life.

She's doing it again this year.

She's invited (challenged?) her readers and friends to do the same.

I may not hit every day, and I probably won't have the beautiful photos illustrating the many little (and large) things I'm thankful for in this life.

My parents visited for Thanksgiving this year. We had a lovely visit, with walks, sight-seeing, eating too much tasty Asian food (Burmese, dim sum, Vietnamese). Too short in some ways, although it will also be wonderful to have our house back to ourselves.

So, for the first day... I am incredibly lucky to enjoy my family, to consider them friends as well as relatives. They may drive me crazy at times, but they're also wonderful company, fun to argue with, and I know they love me, as I am. That makes me thankful.

limits

2010-11-23T21:22:00.000-08:00

from merriam webster's online dictionary:

limit
1. a. something that bounds, confines or restrains
...
7. something that is exasperating or intolerable

______________________

I'm not good with limits. Not when they're set by things out of my control. I like to push them. I like to push my own limits, physically. Mentally.

Obviously, some physical limits I'll never exceed.

And I absolutely loathe being told I can't do something. That's a fairly sure way to make me give it a shot.

So I have been gritting my teeth and trying oh-so-hard to be patient and cautious with this healing ankle. To listen to my PT and my sport med folks, and to push myself gently within their constraints. But I am chafing at the bit.

The definitions I quote above would be good ones for my ankle injury. It has been a hard 5 months. I've missed most of the "after-work runs in the park" season. My plans for a half-marathon have been delayed and delayed, and then delayed again. I will be wearing this damn brace until Christmas.

I am just now allowed to run outside. In the daylight. With it taped. For short distances.

But. I. am. allowed. to RUN OUTSIDE. In daylight, for short intervals. On relatively flat ground. but ... it's not the treadmill. it's not the elliptical trainer. it's fresh air, outside, me, moving in space.

I signed up for a February 5k. I can't train for the half in time; my ankle won't take that kind of increased mileage. But still. I am allowed to RUN OUTSIDE.

I climbed in the gym twice in November. Easy climbs. Climbs where I could use my upper body and core strength and not rely on foot position. But things are improving.

And yesterday? I did some ankle catches. Not many. But enough to believe in the possibilities again.

And that?

The world is limitless.

Buttercup.

2010-08-19T21:03:00.000-07:00

I went from being excited yesterday by making progress in PT to being annoyed at how hard everything felt and how out-of-shape I felt.

Suck it up, buttercup.

I have the feeling I'm going to be telling myself that a number of times in the next few months.

athleticism

2010-08-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

athlete. n. : a person who is trained or skilled in exercises, sports, or games requiring physical strength, agility, or stamina

Turns out? There's nothing in the definition that limits it to competitive athletes.

Just my head.

It's taken years for me to really accept that I am an athlete.
I was not athletic as a kid. Active, but not athletic. We took a lot of walks, some modest bike rides, and played outdoors. My parents were bookish folk, neither particularly athletic themselves (although I remember my mother walking to work for most of my childhood, and swimming at lunch until her mastectomy and associated lymphedema made that difficult). My sister and I were latch-key kids, and the schools we attended had minimal athletic programs at best. And there weren't all the programs there are now. I doubt there were soccer leagues.

I've often regretted that I wasn't involved in organized sports or, at least, organized exercise activity -- maybe not team sports, but something that had more structure.

When I was rehabbing from my shoulder surgery, I got a number of comments "oh, but you're an athlete", often referring to my gritting my teeth and enduring something excruciating in the physical therapy process. I remember being surprised by the description, even though I'd been doing trapeze for a couple of years by then. And one of my trapeze friends asked me then how I had become "such a jock" when I didn't have any childhood background in sports or competition.

I run, not well or fast or far, but for my sanity. I ran, similarly, in college. And I was reminded today by someone I knew in college that I very much hung out with our college's athletic culture. I had become "athletic" without realizing it. And El Bandito, who met me in college, said "I have always thought of you as athletic"

Graduate school squashed my activity. I was too tired and depressed and frustrated, although in the last year or two of dissertation hell, I started doing a lot more walking, hiking, and gym workouts. I needed the balance. And some shortish bike rides with El Bandito.

But it wasn't until I found trapeze that I really fell in love with an activity.
And then, activity it general.

Which is why I've been a cranky wench for the last 5 weeks with this ankle injury. A worse sprain than I had thought: Grade II tears of multiple ligaments, a pulled muscle and a bone bruise. 8-12 weeks with a major brace on it. No ankle catches.
No running. No running. No running. Did I mention? No running.

I've been on the trapeze. Frustratingly limited, but at least I'm getting some exercise and working on some things which needed work anyway. I've been allowed to bike to/from work for about 3 weeks, and I've been slowly adding a little extra in at least one direction. And I can walk up to about 2 miles/day. Just not downhill. PT 2x/week.

I grumbled about this to my primary care physician, and she just laughed and said "If I could get most of my patients to do your "limited" activity, I'd be thrilled." It's still not enough.

It turns out? I'm an athlete. A slow, non-competitive one, but an athlete. Who knew?

Bad timing

2010-07-11T22:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sure that everybody knows how much my body hates me
It lets me down most every time and makes me rash and hasty.

Those are lyrics from a Billy Bragg song that's been stuck in my head since the end of May. The context and the rest of the song don't fit, but the sensation that my body hates me? That does.

May was a whirlwind of wonderful events and great times -- two fabulous weddings in which I got to play integral roles, a play-off hockey game (even if my boys lost), a brief hit of summertime visiting family around one of the weddings. Catching up with friends, hiking, running, biking.

Then June rolled around. Also full of fun plans.

Three days before I was supposed to line up for Muddy Buddy, I got hit by a nasty upper-respiratory virus. Laryngitis, cough, fever -- I could hardly haul myself from one end of the apartment to the other, and I had to send the dreaded "I can't do this" email. I'd been looking forward to Muddy Buddy for almost 3 years. It was one of the markers for really moving on after the shoulder surgery of October 2007, and it also just plain sounded *fun*. I was incredibly disappointed even though I knew it was the right decision.

That virus affected my breathing for more than a month, triggering some ambiguous form of asthma. So at the beginning of July I ended up on inhaled steroids. They're helping.

Although it's hard to tell just how much they're helping since I can't do much to test my aerobic capacity right now. Just under a week ago, I missed a stair or somehow tripped going down the stairs (I'm still not sure exactly what happened) and sprained my ankle. It's not a bad sprain, although the bruising is spectacular, but it's worst with flexion.

Which means I can't run. I can hardly walk. I can't bike.

and worst of all? I can't do ankle catches. There are three of them in my trapeze act. My act which is in rough shape prior to auditons for the Circus Center showcase. The audition is July 25, so I have *no* idea at this point if I'm going to be ready. Those ankle catches are important transition points in the act, too, so I can't just skip them and I don't have the time to learn new choreography to elide them.

I'm frustrated and cranky. I *almost* wish the injury were worse, so that I had to come to terms with it and there wasn't a remote possibility.

It just seems like ... every time I plan something physical that can't be rescheduled? That I'm really looking forward to? My body sabotages it.

Which is nonsense -- I've taken a month of rock-climbing classes, done fabulous 10+ mile hikes and had terrific bike rides. I'm not over-trained. It's just a dose of bad timing.

and to quote another Billy Bragg song from my college years, also out of context, it's bad timing and me, we find a lot of things out that way.

I guess it's time that bad timing teaches me more patience.

But as I'm fond of saying, Patience is a Virtue, just not one of mine.

art vs. science

2010-05-02T21:25:00.000-07:00

The Big Apple had an early spring this year. El Bandito and I spent a few days on the east coast visiting his family, and as many hours as possible walking through the city seeing everything in bloom. Tulips, dogwoods, daffodils, cherry trees, daisies -- there was a plethora of flora.

And we saw our friend's paintings hanging in a wonderful space full of light and books and people reading and talking. Our visit wasn't planned around the exhibit; it was a very happy coincidence.

I even got a short run in. I had hesitated taking my running gear for an extended weekend trip which I knew was going to be jam-packed with familial visiting and obligations; El Bandito is also a little paranoid about my safety and so I expected him to be reluctant for me to run in the streets of a bigger city. However, he supported my packing them, and I had a lovely, albeit short run one evening.

The title of this post isn't actually anything profound. Upon our return to the left coast, El Bandito and I had an extremely full day. Back to work, obviously, but then I met up with a friend for a foray through the members' only night at the art museum. After wandering through a maze of both art and floral design (the theme for the night), we sprinted to the house, met up with El Bandito, and went off to hear Neal DeGrasse Tyson in conversation. The man is both smart and articulate -- and I love astronomy; not enough to have pursued it as a career, but it's a whole lot of fun to hear about from smart people. Given that we were running from one event to the other, we were joking about it being a competition between art and science.

Sometimes I feel like we're busy living life at breakneck speed. So it was delightful to get a good portion of last weekend to spend just hanging out with El Bandito, with minimal plans. Particularly since yesterday was a fabulous wedding that definitely moved at supersonic pace. Very good friends of ours got married; I was given a lovely sterling dog tag engraved for my role as "Bride's Pitbull". There was a truly touching and quirky ceremony, followed by a reception that was just so very very them. Tea party picnic in the park, complete with pinata, a neat time-line concept, cupcakes, acrobatics by guests, and smiles all around.

Life is full of trapeze and running. In theory, I'm training for Muddy Buddy in June. I have a super strong suspicion, however, that my partner is going to bail on me -- I don't think I can find a replacement partner; the only people (I can think of) who might think running, biking, and doing an obstacle course with a mud pit at the end is an ideal way of spending an early Sunday morning are already doing other races or events that weekend. Alas. We'll see what happens. Either way, I'm enjoying the running and biking as "training"

rain makes applesauce

2010-04-05T21:46:00.000-07:00

That's the title (and tagline) of a children's book that coloured my childhood.

I took an unintentional 6 mile walk today.
I'd intended to walk a few miles with a friend. Fortunately my day was flexible and I just stayed later at work to make up the time and finish things up. It was simply too beautiful not to walk all the way out to the ocean. Our readjusted plan still would have made that a reasonable lunchtime stroll -- we were just going to grab transit back. But public transit failed us -- the train was "broken" and they promised a shuttle bus "as soon as possible". We've heard such things before, being veterans of the local transit system, and just headed back up the hill. We'd made it more than halfway back before the bus passed us.

It was a striking weather contrast to the weekend. Sunday afternoon I had a date with a friend for a run. Both of us were adamant that we were going rain or shine, and we tested that out thoroughly -- it was a downpour a lot of the time we were out. My shoes were soaked within the first quarter mile. It was a lovely and fun run, punctuated by pullups and jumping jacks and random parcourse stations. I came home an hour later drenched but grinning. A vast improvement over the tired and cranky from before the run; we had wonderful guests over for dinner the previous night but stayed up talking and drinking until well past 3am.

I interrupt this post to say I have the BEST spouse ever!. El Bandito has been making dinner and just came dancing in and out of the doorway purely for my entertainment. He makes me laugh like no one else.

But giggling for 5 minutes has completely derailed my train of thought.

We went to another astronomy lecture last night; this one was on high-energy imaging of supernovae. In the Q&A after the talk, a young kid asked "isn't everything you've said really just guesses?" Great question. Welcome to science, kid. It's a lot of guesswork. A lot of "this is the best explanation we have come up with that fits the data we currently have". Handled with aplomb by the speaker, who basically said "Yes, of course. Keep up with your math and physics, and come help us make better guesses."

There's no real point to this post, other than to say, despite some frustrations, I really like my life.

Ten Things on a Tuesday

2010-03-30T21:00:00.000-07:00

Today's post might just be brought to you by the letter T. But it might not.

Ten) No letter T here. I intended to write a post about snowshoeing in Yosemite. I didn't. Write the post, that is -- we did indeed spend an enjoyable weekend playing in the snow with friends and marveling at the views. However, I haven't located where El Bandito downloaded the photos, so I couldn't find one to add to this post. Perhaps I'll save it for a summer evening when we could all use a little ice.

sqrt(81)) Tofu. Oddly enough, this ties in to snow-shoeing. With all the snow around, I was hit by a memory of being snowed in while in college, stuck on campus when I lived off-campus. A friend of mine took pity on me and made me a tasty meal at her on-campus apartment. The food was good. The caring inherent in it was most of the memory. Despite the fact that I've eaten a lot of tofu in my life, I'd never had it done like she made it.

Serendipitously, she posted the recipe on her blog a few days after I thought of it.

And, surprising El Bandito greatly, I actually made it for lunch on Saturday. Why did that surprise El Bandito? Those of you who know me in person may be aware that I don't cook. I bake; I do make extravagant fancy desserts (not always baked). But I don't cook. It was quite tasty.

eight) I forget what eight was for.
(anyone?)

siete) Towel. Not that I needed further proof that El Bandito is among the world's very best spouses, but this evening I came home drenched from a sudden downpour in the middle of my run, and he met me at the door with a towel freshly heated in the dryer.

12/2) Temptation, Travel, and Teammates. Five years ago, I did the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer (which really ought to be against Breast Cancer, don't you think?). Last year, a woman I know from the internet did the 3-day walk with a group of fabulous-sounding teammates. She's encouraging me to join them this year. They're in Arizona, so traveling would be necessary. And probably problematic. It's tempting, nonetheless. It was a good experience to do the Avon Walk, but there was a lot of craziness surrounding it (we moved less than a week later, for example). I'd love to do something like this as part of a larger group. While I consider the possibility, y'all should go donate to her team: Team Bad Girls. It's a good cause.

V) Reading about polar exploration makes me cold. and angry about the waste we're laying to the environment. (Hmmm. Temperature and Temper?)

2^2) Trapeze. I've made it more than half-way through my countdown without mentioning trapeze? My act is progressing. Sometimes slowly and frustratingly, sometimes well. It's the performance part that is challenging. The Circus Center announced the dates for its annual "recreational student" (that'd be me!) showcase -- the last weekend in August. I damn well hope I'm ready by then.

3) Time-wasting. I gave in to the crack (aka FaceBook). So far, I haven't found it deeply compelling. Time will tell.

zwei) There are no particular Ts in this one. Just an acknowledgment that I like the letter Z, although ten items with Z would be even tougher than T.

and finally...

the last thing. Tent! Wish me good weather for the weekend. El Bandito and I (and possibly the friends with whom we snow-shoed) are heading car-camping and day-hiking on this upcoming weekend. I am very much looking forward to it.

internal teenage squeee!

2010-02-16T19:26:00.000-08:00

Today, I got something in the mail that made my internal teenager squeal with delight. An autographed 8x10 photograph of
Tony Hawk. Professional Skateboarder, in case the name doesn't mean anything to you. Some people may dismiss skateboarding; it's certainly not a traditional sport, and somehow its appeal to 'tween and teen boys doesn't help its mainstream image. But I've had a long-standing thing for TH. and skateboarding, and frankly, skateboarders are intense athletes.

The Tony Hawk Foundation has helped build skateparks in low-income communities across the country. *Helped* build. One of their requirements for granting funds is that it be a community initiative. Their mission statement is worth reading.

In early January, I stumbled upon a link to www.skatewatts.org -- a fundraising effort to build a skatepark in Watts. The Tony Hawk Foundation was matching donations, and I threw a few dollars their way. (I also threw a lot of money towards more pressing social causes, but that's beside the point).

Today, I came home and found an unexpected thank-you gift in the mail. So I'm grinning.

_____________________________________

And yet, I still haven't answered 21c.mom's question from the comment on the last post.

Due to circumstances not worth explaining to my limited portion of the blogosphere, I ended up running my first "official" 5K (as an adult; I ran some as a kid) on about 2 hours of sleep. I still met my original goals, but not my revised (more ambitious) goal. And frankly, I could have pushed harder. So I'm a) generally pleased about the whole experience and will do it again, and b) completely irked with myself for not having pushed it just a bit harder. Next time. And I'm already looking at 10Ks for the not-too-distant future.

I gave myself the week following the 5K off from running. I donated blood, did pilates, took long walks with friends, and realized yet again that trapeze is easier when your legs aren't leaden.

Last night's 2-mile return to running might have been a little easier had I not hiked 6 fairly strenuous miles on Valentine's Day and then walked 6 miles before running the following day. But it felt good, regardless.

Now, off to do something more productive, or at least more physical, than sitting here *writing* about running.

prospects

2010-02-05T22:33:00.000-08:00

prospect n.
(1)an extensive view
(2)a mental consideration
(3)a place that commands an extensive view
(4)the act of looking forward
(5)a mental picture of something to come
(6)something that is awaited or expected : possibility

No, this isn't a Superbowl post. I'm not a football fan by any stretch of the imagination. Hockey's my spectator sport of choice, at least when it comes to mainstream arena sports. I had a crush on Steve Yzerman of the Detroit Red Wings for the entirely of his playing career, and I don't think it will ever go away. That's not actually why I love watching the game, but it doesn't hurt. And Yzerman has been one of my heroes for about the same length of time, but that's a story for another day.

But I've been considering prospects.

Not romantic prospects; I'm extraordinarily lucky to have found El Bandito early in our lives and luckier still in that we've grown in complementary directions.

Job prospects (no immediate changes in sight). The position I took in May was certainly not my "dream job", although I'm no longer sure exactly what that is. There are many things I imagine doing, but most of them would require the circumstances of my life to be so different as to be unrecognizable, and I'm not willing to make those choices. Nonetheless, it's a job, which in this economy is a serious plus. There are many times when it's interesting and challenging, but I also feel underutilized.

Race prospects -- well, there is a little matter of a 5k on Sunday morning. I am taking 21cmom's advice and rethinking my goals. My goal was simply "run the whole thing", since the last time I ran anything official I was not yet old enough to drive. But frankly, I have been running enough over the last few years that that's a fairly achievable goal. So I've rethought my goals, considered her suggestion, and revised my time goal down. If it means I go out too fast and walk a few feet, no big deal.

Signing up for the 5k did exactly what I wanted it to; it helped me get out running more consistently. And, it convinced me that I am indeed doing Muddy Buddy this year. I've wanted to ever since I discovered it on Stronger's blog in 2007(?), but my shoulder wasn't ready in 2008 and I couldn't find a willing partner in 2009. 2010, however, is on the calendar. The San Jose race.

Other prospects? Certainly. Like anticipating how wonderful bed will be when I get there. My trapeze class tonight was hard work.

But even better than all of these, All Soul's Prospect.

As part of my 2010 goals, I'm trying to spend more time and energy envisioning and remembering the things which make me truly happy. This is one of them.

This is from our September hiking trip in the Canadian Rockies. Part of the "Alpine Circuit" above Lake O'Hara. We got snowed on. I grinned like an idiot. The view was amazing from this spot, the official All Soul's Prospect. The trail was a little difficult to locate at times. Although we stopped here, it was a short break, as it was too exposed to sit there long. The cairn at the prospect blocked some but not all of the wind,

a drizzly sunday

2010-01-24T18:38:00.000-08:00

2010 has been off to a good start, albeit not exactly what we'd expected. And I'm a bad blogger -- there are things I meant to recount, to recap, both for the few friends who've found there way here and for my own recollections.

I just came in from my "long run" and realized it had been more than a month since I updated.

First? The friend I mentioned in my last post did reply to my email. And left me with a huge grin on my face when I read it, even though I still need to reply in turn.

We started off the year with El Bandito joining a group of internet friends for a 57mile bike ride. After not having ridden more than 25miles in a day for years.
On a fixed gear, no less. Crazy man.

I did a lovely solo hike that same afternoon. Saw a coyote a few feet from the trailhead. Dipped in and out of fog and sun and got a little bit muddy and thoroughly enjoyed myself. It had been far too long since I'd played on the trails by myself. I discovered I tend to move faster alone, which amused me.

January is flying past -- I looked at the calendar today and realized we've had 4 dinners (and one brunch) with friends, volunteered doing groundskeeping work at the zoo, gone to an astronomy lecture, and dealt with landlords and insurance inspections...

...and I've gone hiking thrice (once with a friend where we got thoroughly wet and yet laughed most of the drive home), spent hours on the trapeze, started a weekly pilates class, met friends for walks multiple times and lunch twice, and have done almost all my training runs for the 5K (one, my shoes were still in my luggage, 150miles away from my final destination. stupid airlines. the second one I missed because I decided an actual rest day might be a good idea, having had hard physical workouts for >8 days in a row). Signing up for the 5K worked, at least in as much as it has motivated me to actually get out and run.

But the biggest thing of 2010 so far was the addition of a new feline member of the household. Our delightful yet neurotic cat N. (never name a cat after a neurotic ballet dancer -- it's too predictive!) hadn't coped well as an only cat after our beloved gray gato died in October. He'd taken to screaming at us for attention, but frequently being unwilling or unable to calm down enough to accept it. He and our elderly girl hadn't really gotten along, but apparently her presence in the house helped keep him calm. So we'd been thinking of bringing in another cat -- we had looked a few times, but weren't ready.

I'm not sure I was ready yet.

But a friend rescued a kitten off the side of the freeway. Covered in grime and dirt. Gorgeous little orange tabby polydactyl, probably about 5 months old. Fearless and intrepid. He got a clean bill of health from the vet's office after a weekend of being quarantined in our bathroom (at one point, he fell or jumped straight into my shower. I'm not sure which of us was more startled; I scooped him up quickly enough that he never really got upset), and cat integration is going remarkably well. And N. is definitely calmer with a second cat in the house. Weird.

And on a completely different note: http://doctorswithoutborders.org/index.cfm
and http://photos.pih.org/home2.html

They do good work. Help them if you can.

monday miscellany

2009-12-21T21:01:00.001-08:00

1) Today I stumbled across a college friend's blog. It's been a decade since we've seen each other, and that was a random catch-up lunch when El Bandito and I were in her town for another friend's wedding. I sent her an email; I hope she responds. I'll be a little sad if she doesn't. On the other hand, there was something very satisfying about just discovering that she's there. That her life seems to be generally good, that she seems fundamentally more content than those restless college years, that she's raising beautiful intelligent children with a husband who clearly still rocks her world.

ii) The Circus Center had its annual Open House this weekend. Casual show. I didn't perform. But I'm thinking I will this spring or summer (dates TBD) when the more formal showcase is held. I'm actually kind of excited by this idea. Odd, since I had no intention of performing, ever. I'm making progress; right now it's trying to choreograph the transitions between moves that is as challenging for me in developing an act as the actual moves. More so.

C) I'm "training" for a 5k. Ludicrous, eh? Especially to the more dedicated runners who occasionally read this blog (which probably means all two of you wonderful ladies!). I can run/walk one easily. I know that. But I haven't done any "official" running in a very long time. I'd like to run the whole thing. I have no doubt I could do that, even now. I'd like to do it in a respectable time. But mostly, I just want something to focus on to get me out there running consistently; I need those miles for my mind. Along with the trapeze. They're different things. And I make time for running if I have a goal. Less so if I don't.

cuatro) My parents were supposed to come visit for Thanksgiving. Those plans got axed by my father's health issues. He's better, but not fully recovered. It's changed our holiday plans somewhat. I kept thinking, that entire week "oh, I should show them X" -- it has been years since they visited and we've discovered so much more of the area since then.

sqrt(25)) El Bandito and I have been attending astronomy lectures at the science museum. It's fun to think about the edges of the unknown. Expansive. And so different from the unknowns that I spend my days thinking about. Other types of science are fun!

two+two+two) It's been a social whirlwind the last month. Holidays and out-of-towners suddenly in town and catching up with friends whom I haven't seen in months or years. I joke about being a hermit, as work, trapeze and El Bandito take up most of my time. It's been lovely to see so many friends recently.

the fifth prime number) A recent entry on a running/tri blog I read referred to the state of being "hangry". so hungry you are angry for no good reason. I understand that better than I ought to admit. I like the word mutation. It made me laugh in recognition.

and that seems like more than enough miscellany for a Monday.

thursday three by three

2009-10-29T19:59:00.000-07:00

I like when I read other people's Thursday Thirteens, but I don't know that I have thirteen things worth blogging about (for my whopping two readers!)

Or maybe it will be Thursday 3x3, three related sets of three things. That's more likely.

Set A: the parents
1. I am tired of parental health issues. Especially as I am far far away. My mother healed just fine from her lumpectomy. But my father ended up (completely unrelatedly)in the ICU for pulmonary embolisms. He's home now, recovering well although still on oxygen for any major exertion.

2. It is entirely in character that my father insisted on having breakfast before going to the emergency room. (When I told a friend about that last item, she said "So, what you're telling me is, you're related to your father?" I can't really argue the point validly.)

3. I feel fortunate that I talk to my parents frequently. That if my father had been 10 minutes later to the ER, which the doctors say would have been too late, at least there wouldn't have been lots left unsaid.

Set B, in which I hang by my heels
uno) I am sort-of taking an aerial dance class. Which is fun and challenges my brain. It's more a mental workout than a physical one, although I do get physical exercise. I've been working on technique and tricks for trapeze for several years, so the concept of playing on equipment and just trying things is somewhat liberating. But simultaneously intimidating. I am not very coordinated. I don't feel fluid and dancer-like; I feel bumbling and klutzy. The aerial dance class is at ... surprise... a dance studio. With other dance classes. Walking in there is really kind of neat. Full of people, full of energy. A buzz in the air. Kids running around. I can't quite describe it, but I like the vibe.

dos) Why the heck doesn't fitness transfer from one discipline to another? After September's fabulous hiking trip in the Canadian Rockies, my running got ignored for a few weeks. I feel a little like I'm starting over. I didn't run in September, although I hiked >60 miles in a week.

tres) My trapeze act is slowly coming together. I haven't been working on the act itself much lately, more on technique in general. I've had a few very intense classes recently and I feel like I am making progress. I don't have a natural aptitude for aerial arts. I don't have a gymnastic or dance background; I'm not fluid in my movements, or generally talented for the trapeze. But I feel like I'm getting better.

Set C, where October is a roller-coaster
i) October started out wonderfully. We "celebrated" my two-year surgiversary -- the two-year anniversary of my shoulder surgery. Which I celebrate because of how far I have come. We had a lovely day, a pleasant long stroll and a fabulous dinner, then joined a friend who was celebrating her birthday at a local bar. Much laughter and raucous enjoyment was had.

ii) and the following day, our darling old gray cat got sick. I'd promised her (and ourselves) that she'd been through enough with her spinal degeneration that I wouldn't put her through another major treatment regime or maker her live in pain. She basically just went into a full-body shutdown over 24 hours; by the time we got to the vet, the decision was obvious. It still sucked. Still sucks. I miss that little gray ghost. Stupid darn cats, causing us to get attached.

iii) that was just the first weekend of October. The rest of the month has been a crazy set of bumper-cars. The parental worries. Jury duty. Getting caught in a downpour; seeing a rare rainbow in the city.

caught early

2009-09-28T21:14:00.000-07:00

I have two or three posts in draft form.
Posts about mountains, and near-solitude.
About hiking in the snow.
About being prepared.
Or posts about jobs.

But this isn't any of those.

Tomorrow, my mother is having a precancerous lump removed from her remaining breast.

Twenty-two years ago, she had breast cancer. Had a radical mastectomy, including lymph node removal. In many ways, she's one of the very lucky ones -- they got it all, she didn't need chemo or radiation at the time. In other ways -- she still has lymphedema which restricts her movement and causes her discomfort.

But maybe that early breast cancer was a blessing in disguise.
The lump she's having removed tomorrow? Found on a routine mammogram, which she's religious about. Confirmed by ultrasound and needle biopsy; an MRI showed no other signs of anything ominous.

Caught early.
So early her oncologist doesn't think radiation is a good idea. A short recovery.

My mother's one of the lucky ones. A survivor. A benefit of good health care. Lucky to have insurance which covers it all well -- and covered the initial mammogram.

Life is short. Tomorrow, I'll be waiting for a phone call, and trying not to jump when the phone rings. And yet? I know we're all lucky, every one in my family. It could have been so different.

Please, get your checkups. Do your self exams. Luck is partly where we make it.

ginga arts (shameless promotion)

2009-08-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

Friends of mine in LA run a capoeira program. M. just sent me an email saying:

Dear Friends of Ginga Arts,

I am writing you guys to ask you to support Ginga Arts on the web by voting for us at: http://www.nikebackyourblock.com/ApplicantProfile.aspx?ApplicantId=387a6c72-d96d-4b0a-817a-c5bc6d6362af

The Nike Back your Block project is a great opportunity for Ginga Arts
to get funding! All you have to do is follow the link and put in your
e-mail address. Also, be sure to send this to all your friends as the
organizations who receive the most votes get funded.

So, please, support a great organization if you can!

six weeks of silence

2009-08-08T18:04:00.000-07:00

Most of the bloggers I read have fallen into silence over the summer -- a few race reports, a few wonderful long posts of remembrance. A spurt of posting, and then a quiet spell. (There are exceptions, including one of my favorite runner's blog -- I wrote that as running blog, but she covers a much wider range than that.)

So perhaps I shouldn't feel sheepish at six weeks of silence. They've been busy weeks. Settling in to the new job -- sometimes it's packed with stuff to accomplish and sometimes I'm not at all sure what I'm supposed to be doing. But it's reasonable thus far. I don't know that it's where I want to be in 5 years, but that's then, not now.

And breathing trapeze. Not running enough, not nearly enough --twice in the month of July? Those were treasured runs, although labored -- and getting over the inertia to get out the door for them on my rare unscheduled evenings is perhaps the hardest part.

Three nights of trapeze a week is a lot, and it's hard to make the schedule work. I'm spending 8-10 hours a week in classes/training/working slowly on my act -- we've now choreographed the first 20-30 seconds of it. We keep trying different things; I think we managed to add one new move on my last session.

So it's been a busy six weeks or so -- we splurged in July with a trip to Teatro Zinzanni which really was a tremendous amount of fun. El Bandito the Magnificent volunteered for one of the segments (with a lot of vigorous prodding from his wife). The show was good; the highlights were definitely the dual trapeze act at the end, seeing my husband juggle a raw chicken, loaf of bread and a blob of margarine, and a pretty astounding hula hoop act.

And then we had a fabulous, extravagant anniversary dinner last week; the advantage of knowing a sous schef at an uber-fancy restaurant is that we got to say "just bring food" and have wonderful things appear in front of us. Spoiled. Absolutely Spoiled.

A new day job, trapeze, the rare run, and weekend hikes in the coastal hills (preparation for our nearly-yearly trip hiking in the Canadian Rockies)... to quote Calvin and Hobbes, "The days are just packed".

getting my act together

2009-06-24T21:46:00.000-07:00

act: n, 1 : the doing of a thing...7 a: one of successive parts or performances (as in a variety show or circus) b: the performer or performers in such an act c: a performance or presentation identified with a particular individual or group d: the sum of a person's actions or effects that serve to create an impression or set an example

getting one's act together: Informal. to organize one's time, job, resources, etc., so as to function efficiently.

I ran last week. and this week. After a full four weeks not running, thanks to first a chest cold for my last week at the old job, followed by our mini-vacation (with some serious hiking; 600m of elevation gain in under 2.5km) and then starting a new job... Excuses, excuses.

and then, finally, I laced up my shoes and ran a few miles and suddenly... things settled in my brain. The buzz calmed down.

Starting a new job has been both enjoyable and overwhelming. I'm starting, after 3 weeks, to feel like I'm actually making sense of what I'm doing. There are parts of my job that are just plain sad. I haven't worked with patients in years, and seeing some of the things that can go wrong is depressing. But it also feels good to be potentially doing something clinically relevant.

But the biggest reason for the title... I've finally decided it's time to put some real time and energy into a trapeze act. Time, indeed, to get my act together. Stay timed. I won't be performing anytime soon, but video may be available shortly upon request. We'll see.

loose ends

2009-05-19T12:33:00.000-07:00

I took 2 weeks off between jobs; having been in limbo for several months I've been socking away money furiously and we decided we could afford the break. We're even going on a minivacation -- 4 days of hiking and urban exploration on the other side of the border.

It was strange clearing off my desk on my last day, copying important files and purging anything personal from my surroundings. No one else is likely to use my computer; it's nearing the end of any useful life. In a strange twist, I'll be back at that desk at least intermittently for a while. I'm hoping it's only intermittent but the new department has yet to find me space. It's an odd transition.

Yesterday was day 1 of being "between jobs," as my google status put it. And I spent much of it doing things which were far too productive. Pilates. Laundry, bill-paying, floor-mopping, spring-cleaning, baking pumpkin bread. Fortunately, I'd made plans to meet a friend to go to the science museum, so I did stop with the madness. And I skipped my run, again -- I've had a chest cold for the last week, and wheezing and coughing makes running far less pleasant. I even skipped a night of trapeze last week, a sure sign I was ill. Sure makes me feel lazy though.

However, a touch of laziness during downtime? I guess I shouldn't give myself too hard a time about that.

levels

2009-04-30T07:34:00.000-07:00

level n. ...
16. an extent, measure, or degree of intensity, achievement, etc.: a high level of sound; an average level of writing skill.

Or perhaps this would be equally titled: "being where you are".

There's a guy in one of my trapeze sessions who is always thinking ahead to the next level. Sometimes that's a positive thing: it's good to have goals. Striving to get better and to constantly challenge oneself? I understand that. It's a large part of why I do trapeze.

But there's also something to be said for accepting where you are. To be able to look at what you can do with satisfaction for what it is.

Trapeze tricks build on skills. You learn how to do things in steps and stages. Sometimes it's just a matter of understanding the parts, but other times it's building the strength, the flexibility, the body vocabulary and trust. You can't always, shouldn't always, decide that you're ready to try something when you don't have the basics underlying the trick.

If you've just taken up running, a non-stop mile can be a victory. There's no point in kicking yourself because it wasn't a marathon.

I am, in my opinion, a mediocre aerialist. But that's not why I do it.

When I'm working on the trapeze, I Put Everything Aside. There's no room for other thoughts.

When I run, I Sort Things Out. Sometimes it's conscious, a thinking through as I run; sometimes it's just reaching a state where things settle in to my brain.

I need them both.

definitions, two

2009-04-15T23:00:00.000-07:00

New: having recently come into existence
Job: a. a specific duty, role, or function cb.: a regular remunerative position*

I have one.
Breathing a sigh of relief.
It's not the direction I thought I was going.
It starts 6/1; my current funding ends in May. A few days of breathing space.
I think it will be interesting. A new challenge -- different and the same.
and a raise from where I am. Can't complain.

I wish trapeze had a standard vocabulary.
It's hard to explain the new thins I was working on yesterday, even to other aerialists.
And yet, it was really satisfying last night. It's not that I made huge strides, but I worked hard. and some things worked really well.

I'm realizing I need to start working on an act.
I never thought I'd say that (type that?).
Trapeze was never about performing, but about challenging myself.
And now? I'm realizing the two things aren't mutually exclusive.
that an act might really be my next step.

I skipped my run tonight.
for no good reason.
and now that makes me grumpy.

two days of sunshine

2009-04-05T23:18:00.000-07:00

I'm not ready for Monday.
I have a meeting tomorrow to hopefully iron out the details for my new job. Yes, potentially, I have a new job. Not the direction I was expecting to move in, but it should be interesting, exciting, and challenging. Through a bizarre intersection of circumstances, I may be effectively in the same location, seeing my current colleagues and coworkers daily. That will require some adjustment -- to remind myself that I don't need to do X, Y, or Z for them, or worry about whether "we" are violating protocol in some incredibly meaningless way.

But this weekend,
I had:
A crappy run on Friday night.
A long walk with a friend.
A short but steep and truly lovely hike with El Bandito.
A dinner date for delicious food, after we sat in the car laughing until the end of NPR's Selected Shorts program. Yes, we're nerds.
A bike ride.
Time to watch dogs frolicking at the beach.
A potential partner for www.muddybuddy.com -- we're negotiating whether it will work out for either of us, but it might. Signing up for a race might help structure my training more too; as is, I run and bike because that helps keep me sane and increase my stamina for trapeze.
An hour spent in the garden plot, pulling weeds and deciding what to plant.

I'm a list-maker. Lists help me see what I've accomplished. What needs to be done. What steps to take.

This list? Two days of sunshine and a nap with the cat.

recaps and head buckets

2009-03-19T21:07:00.000-07:00

Monday. I ran. on the dreadmill. but ran nonetheless.
I hate the gym. Or maybe... I don't like the people in the gym. I'm sure they're all wonderful human beings (OK, maybe not), but there are too many of them in one place, competing for resources and attention and they are in my way. However, I like the aftereffects of going to the gym. Of pushing myself and feeling accomplished.

Tuesday was trapeze.
Wednesday I ran.
Today was more trapeze. It was a better night than Tuesday; on Tuesday everything felt hard. Even things I'd done a hundred times. A few things worked better than usual; my ability to hang upside down with my just feet hooked over the bar has improved greatly. But it felt hard. Tonight was ... no more successful, but didn't feel as challenging. Mental work, but more connection to it.

But looking at all that, it's no wonder my legs have felt leaden recently on my bike commute.

Speaking of bikes, I am vaguely in the market for another one. A road bike, to join my stable of mountain bike and heavy steel city commuter. So if anyone reading this has a recommendation for a good entry level road bike, let me know.

And on a vaguely related topic, can I just say how astounded I am at all the cyclists who don't wear helmets? I hate helmets - they're funny looking and all that. But I would never ride without one. I've had one minor concussion in my life. I don't need another. It's been on my mind with all the news coverage of Natasha Richardson's fall and subsequent death from an epidural bleed. I'm particularly aggravated when I see parents riding with their kids -- the kids are wearing helmets (which is a legal requirement in CA) and often the parents aren't. A) way to be a role model. B) who's going to care for the kids if you end up hospitalized or worse with a brain injury? It's especially upsetting when I see a helmet hanging from the handlebars, so it's clearly not an issue of not being able to afford one. Brain buckets. They save lives.

Ok. rant over.

comfort zone

2009-03-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

I've been having trouble motivating to apply for jobs. Part of it is that the positions I've found to apply for are really not what I want to be doing long-term, except for the job I applied for in December. Unfortunately, I don't think I even got an interview with them -- they still hadn't completed their short list of candidates by mid-February, but I assume they must have at this juncture.

Some of what I want to do would be best done as a freelance/self-employment venture, but I don't have the paper credentials to make that work.

And some of my lack of motivation is comfort in my current position. I know it's ending, sooner rather than later, but it's been a good fit for me and I'm comfortable there.

It's time to step outside my comfort zone.

I realized, after 2.5 hours in the aerial gym last night, that's part of why trapeze is so important to me. Trapeze challenges my comfort zones. It expands them. It makes me face my fears (even rational ones, like "you want me to do what? rotate 180 degrees and let go of my hands?") and evaluate them.

And in a different way, I'm regaining my comfort on the trapeze. The apprehension and fear of "what if I hurt my shoulder again" has slowly dissipated. I don't think of it for most moves.

Get up. Adjust. Try again.

It's not just for trapeze.

rain makes applesauce

2009-02-16T19:33:00.000-08:00

The title of this post is from a children's book, but became a catchphrase in my family. Somehow, it seemed appropriate after 4 rainy days.

Commuting to work by bicycle is more challenging on wet days -- and somehow, Friday I managed to hit exactly the wrong weather window on my way to work.

But the rain made for a relaxing weekend, a good break. El Bandito the Magnificent and I don't usually really celebrate Valentine's Day, but he came home on Friday with a bottle of champagne anyway. Saturday we wandered through the arboretum in a mix of clouds and vibrant sun before I biked over to the aerial gym for a few hours, and after I returned we walked over to our favorite little gourmet pizza joint. Valentine's Day was perhaps a suboptimal time to go, with a longer wait and slightly less attentive service, but it's one of our favorite dates and a bottle of wine made the time fly by.

I'm still balancing too many things -- full-time current employment with a half-hearted job hunt. There's just been so little I actually want to apply for. I'm either desperately over-qualified or completely underqualified. However, I need to apply the Nike slogan, and just do it. I've been lucky to have the luxury of a few additional months of employment in my current position through some creative funding, but that will run out.

And I should care about that, and not just think "Oooooh, more time to train!" Trapeze classes and training -- there aren't enough hours for that around a standard workweek. Specialized location and equipment -- I can't just lace up my shoes or grab my bike and go. The 4-8 hours a week is nothing compared to the triathlon training a number of people I "know" (waving hello to my imagined and imaginary readers) do, but it's the constraints of when in my day (and week) it can happen that make it another tricky ball to juggle (which is why unemployment momentarily looks attractive...) On Thursday, I found a balance. A butt balance, to be precise. I've been struggling with this for weeks and all of a sudden it worked. That's the thing about trapeze for me. It's so frustrating, requires so much concentration and focus, but then I'll get something and it will be so incredibly rewarding.

And tonight's 3 miles felt rewarding too. My knee's been aching recently, and I've just started a bunch of lower body work and stability exercises (my love-hate relationship with the Bosu is coming along nicely). It still ached tonight, but the miles felt easier, and I timed it well -- no rain, only a few puddles, and I didn't get soggy running shoes! Whooo.

2009-01-31T22:36:00.000-08:00

yesterday I did...
an easy 5K.
to celebrate an internet friend's 40th.

only, at about the 4th kilometer, I tripped.
one of those slow-motion falls where you have enough time to consider what's happening, but not really enough time to change things.

I grazed a hip.
and the heels of both hands.
But managed not to jar my bad shoulder too much.
(I am so terrified of re-injuring my post-surgical shoulder that it's not actually funny).

and I got up, and just kept going. No lasting injury. Some new bruises, although right now, my legs are sufficiently black-and-blue I'm not sure which bruise is from what activity...

it did, however, mean I didn't get to go play on the trapeze and practice new tricks. torn hands are not trapeze-friendly -- and trapeze is not hand-friendly.

I missed it.

but a bike ride, a long walk with a friend, and a lazy afternoon in the sunbeam with El Bandito and the cat?

it's not the same, but it's still a damn nice way to spend a Saturday.

physical therapy

2009-01-16T19:55:00.000-08:00

nope, this isn't a post about the daily regimen of shoulder exercises I'm still doing 15 months post surgery. or the knee exercises I ought to be doing.

or the pain of A.R.T., which has helped my shoulder immensely.

A friend of mine commented, when I complained about my current limbo-like state of employment and therefore my concern about the expense of trapeze classes and training, that "it's cheaper than couples counseling."

She's right.

Don't get me wrong -- I have a marriage I'm extremely happy in. He makes me fall over with laughter; he makes me feel safe and cherished and supported. El Bandito rocks my world, and I'm pretty sure that feeling is mutual.

But trapeze is, in some ways, a type of therapy. There's some truth in that.

I love running, hiking, and even walking because of the rhythm and the scenery and a hundred reasons.

And as long as I'm active, I'm generally pretty cheerful.

But trapeze is different.

Part of it is the sheer physical challenge, especially now that I'm back in advanced classes and learning new things.

Yesterday, I caught myself by my ankles dozens of times. Intentionally. From standing on the trapeze to hanging by my ankles. From sitting on the trapeze to hanging by my ankles. From hanging by my knees to hanging by my ankles. These aren't new things, but they're things I'm getting better and better at.

When I'm on the trapeze, I can't think of anything other than what I'm doing with my body.

I spent some several minutes fighting my (irrational) fear of a simple trick: "butt balance". Which is hard to explain, but is basically, balancing on your butt on the trapeze, hence the name. There are a bunch of different balances in static trapeze (back balance, front balance, butt balance, straddle back balance to name a few), and each of them has been a challenge to learn. Finding the balance and maintaining the pose takes a lot of concentration and coordination.

Those hours of my week? there's nothing else.

and I love them for that.

Not to mention the endorphins, the sore muscles, the feeling that I've used my body well, the tired abs, the bruises (as I hopped in the shower tonight post-run, El Bandito counted 10 on my lower body alone, from abrupt contact with the bar or ropes).

And then I'm too exhausted to worry about whether I'm employed after February 1st, and if so, where.

data junkie

2009-01-04T17:17:00.000-08:00

I'm a scientist by training, and by nature.

El Bandito the magnificent gave me a wonderful Christmas present: a Garmin Forerunner.

It got its inaugural "run" this afternoon.

My inner data junkie is quite pleased. Even if my body says "OMG, what's this running business???"

Off to play with the accompanying software for a while before it's time for ab torture.

a birthday tree and new years

2009-01-02T12:40:00.000-08:00

I have one of those birthdays that falls between Christmas and New Year's. A mixed blessing.

The other day, as I passed a discarded christmas tree on the curb, I was reminded of a childhood birthday. My parents always tried to make my birthday distinct from the rest of the holidays. One year (and I can't remember how old I was), they claimed one of those discarded trees, snuck it into the house on my birthday, and decorated it especially for me. (I think they used ribbons and bows, so as not to use Xmas ornaments). It was my very own "birthday tree", and I still smile 20+ years later to think of it. I have awesome parents.

New Year's was a social whirlwind. We left the cold-and-snowy to return to fog, although we saw an amazing sunset above the clouds. Then we dashed off to a New Year's Eve party after dumping our luggage and a quick meal. Got up New Year's Day and sat in a bar for 3 hours. What? There was an all-important hockey game on. Then joined many hung-over friends for a late brunch/dinner/afternoon meal, before returning home for the evening. A lot of fun, and now we're catching up, settling in, and taking deep breaths before next week's return to the daily grind.

Of course, I sent off a job application this morning. So there's always something...

raining

2008-12-09T21:44:00.000-08:00

No, not the weather. and not the proverbial "when it rains it pours", in any sense (jobs, training, etc).

Cats and dogs.

or Cat. and not dog.

The cat is old. And getting frail. It's heartbreaking, really. She was our "starter cat", a semi-feral who eventually became sufficiently comfortable with us, and us with her, that the adoption was a gentle meld rather than an event. She was the "little gray gato" who lived in the backyard, who slowly was coaxed into the house, and over time became an indoor only cat. She's my first pet since I reached adulthood; she predates our marriage although not our living-in-sin.

She hated that we brought in another stray, one who wrapped my heart around his paw in a fashion I can't ever describe. He's been gone 3 years, victim of a cancer that glued his organs together.

She blossomed as an only cat.

And then we brought home the young Turk, a supposedly reserved young man-cat who is domineering and sweet and completely insane.

and now the cat is old. and frail. her spinal discs are degenerating. It's not her time yet -- her pain is well controlled, and her life is not so bad. But my heart, once thought so safe from the starter cat, hurts to think of the decision, to know that it's not so very far in the future.

the cat is old. I hate that.

so cat. but not dog.

I always believed myself to be a dog person. and I am. or a cat-and-dog person, at any rate. I miss canine companionship, immensely.

El Bandito and I live in an expensive city full of hills. and we rent, because even with his income, we can't afford to buy in this painted town. Finding a place that took cats and was decent took us almost a year. There's no way that, in this lifestyle and this location, we can have a dog.

Nor do we have time enough for the dog we'd want. Trapeze eats my free time. My job is uncertain. Meanwhile, we both work full time and the days seem too short. The dog deserves better than that.

But I dream of the sound of claws clicking on hardwood floors, the snuffle of a wet dog nose searching my pocket for treats. I want to bury my face in fur, to throw toys long past my shoulder's parameters, and feel the tug on the other end of the leash.

Other women want children. I just want ... a dog.

and for pets to be young and healthy forever.

pelicans, pavement, and persimmons

2008-11-29T22:12:00.000-08:00

There aren't enough 4-day weekends on the calendar.

This year, our chosen family of friends was scattered for the Thanksgiving holiday (and our actual families thousands of miles away). We thought about skipping it altogether, but eventually chose to go out to dinner. Parts of the special Thanksgiving menu were fabulous; other parts were "eh". It was, however, a nice ending to a lazy Thanksgiving which included sleeping in, a good walk, and longish phone conversations with family. (This year, however, they fortunately didn't itemize every dish on the table, like my father did one year while I was in college and stuck in the dorms for Thanksgiving. It wasn't a kindness.)

Then there was the bike ride which beat me in to submission. Stupid hills. But I didn't stop, and I consider that a minor victory.

Today though... today was one of those days where you just inhale the sweetness. We drove up the coast for lunch: fresh crab sandwiches and clam chowder by the marina, with a cool breeze and warm sunshine. The whole day had that low, slanting autumn light that makes everything look like you're in a movie, and it was a beautiful drive. Lunch was followed by a walk along the coast, watching pelicans skim the frothy surf. There was fog coming in; combined with the slanting sun it made everything look quite dramatic. El Bandito and I stopped and stared at the hawks hunting in the haze.

We got home late afternoon, and after some lazing about, I cleaned the fridge and headed out for a pre-dinner run.

Now I've got a full stomach, there's cranberry-persimmon bread baking in the oven, and I've an entire additional weekend day to enjoy tomorrow.

Meanwhile, in the tradition of the season, some things I'm thankful for:

El Bandito. A decade of marriage has only improved things. I'm thankful every day to have such a wonderful partner, who encourages me, who makes me giggle, who supports me in so many ways. I lucked out.
Family and friends. I'm something of an introvert, but I've got fabulous friends. and family that I count as friends. Not everyone feels the same.
Trapeze.
Furry felines, and people who let me play with their dogs
Playtime.
Ice cream. Who thought of that? Ditto wine.