rain makes applesauce

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.