Whale season!

Tonight I got my ass kicked by a man with flowery arms.  I did it again - the dreaded Y-O-D-A (or yoga, for my non-five-year-old readers). This guy, all tattooed up and wearing a wife beater and lululemon pants, was awesome. He put my lame yoga dvd to shame. And he didn't pull my hair to try and make me bend more, making him more fun to do yoga with than my daughter. I was so tired when I left Boca tonight that I forgot my bike. I locked the shop, dropped the keys in the mail chute, looked around for my non-existent car, and then noticed my bike inside. Oops. The yoga comes recommended by my mother, who is a yoga addict, weighs 90-something pounds, doesn't get migraines anymore and has arms like madonna. So I'm trying it again. Monday nights, at least for a month. The downside of yoga is that I didn't see my kids today. I left for work at 5am and got back when they were asleep, after a long hike out to Kaena Point. Which is why it will only be once a week, at least for now.

 

This is what happened when I asked Sky to hold my coffee while I took a picture of the view from Makapuu yesterday. I'm not too worried about her stunting her growth as she's likely doomed to be a giant like me. But I am also not at all willing to share the soy gingerbread latte goodness. Note her haggard pre-coffee squint.

We were looking for whales yesterday - I saw one really close off the shore earlier this week. So since it's whale season, and since Lance is in town, or at least in Bree's town, hanging out at Kukio, I thought I'd share the whale pics. Lance is in seat 4, in yellow, of course.

Generous friends keep offering me tickets to the inauguration. But the evil airlines seem to know something exciting is going on in DC on January 20th. I keep playing with the dates and times and websites.. but have yet to find a miraculously cheap ticket. But if I do, I'm in.

The opposite of kismet.

Barack was in my hood yesterday. He had shave ice about 2.1 miles from my door. Where was I? Chuck. E. Freaking. Cheese. Friends emailed me to come meet him, as he was shaking hands and chatting. This is another reason I need an iphone/gphone/crackberry/whatever. Or friends who use phones.

I departed the Lucky annual sale slash Ross mom/daugher restocking last night to find the sky full of lightning, which is another annual event here in Hawaii. At 7pm, we lost power. It came back on 20 hours later, around 3pm today. The whole island was out. Our blackouts take a long time to restore. We had a wild night with the Felix family, playing drinking-Uno by candlelight and watching illegal fireworks from our deck. Here's Sky in half of the stuff I bought her, her eclectic look of the day.

Katherine and I had a ride planned for this morning. An easy one, but the first training ride of 09 none the less. I made it into a scavenger hunt.. power was coming on in different areas, and I needed my fix. Here I am, still smiling because it's just the third one.

By this one, I was too sad to smile for the camera. Is there anything sadder than a closed starbucks at 8am on a Saturday morning?

I did something dumb. I blame the uncoffeedness. I put on training wheels this weekend, because timex wants the pretty aeolus powertap back. Someone with a tendency to call it an areola broke it. I have no idea what I did to it, but it doesn't like me. I didn't change the cassette on the training wheels. So not only am I out of shape and jumping from an 11-27 to an 11-23 and lacking coffee, I then suggested we ride up Sierra. Last January, we did repeats up Sierra with the Rolles at least once a week while they trained for their 9 day mountain bike race in South Africa. They're at it again and in need of company. We used to get up in 15' and 3 repeats. Today we shot for not falling over. I couldn't feel my hands at the top, or make fun of the guy wearing the pink baby carrier. I guess the training has begun. I will totally start swimming next month, and I reserve the right to interpret "next" as January or Feb. This was the view from the top today -- I still couldn't feel my hands when taking this:

Later Sky caught her first waves.. it was cold, but she was brave. Braver than the sissytwins, who refused to go out. Or the sissymom, who paddled out, took pictures, and high-tailed it back to shore to shiver under a towel. Sky and her best buddy Malia, checking out the shorebreak, discussing where to line up:

Below is Brandon, Sky & Malia, after a wipeout that sent toddler bodies flying everywhere. Note Sky's look of alarm. She was all better on the next wave though, when Brandon steered them all the way into shore.

Present

I got a great Christmas present. It came a day early, so here's Christmas Eve in Hawaii. I can take the new camera swimming, so next time I run into dolphins at Waimea, I'll be able to show you.

Christmas eve officially started with Kaui and Andy's party. There were friends there I hadn't seen since June 4, 1994. High school graduation. We had a great time- but I think our girls had more fun playing dress up.

I woke up and headed out for a long run. Which lasted all of 40 min. The side effects of my anti-migraine drugs, which are only sort-of working, include elevated HR. Starting with the marathon, my HR has been 180-185 for every run. I can only hold what used to be 5k HR for 30-40 min, then it all falls apart. No matter how slow I run, if I'm running, I'm in Z5. I know the culprit, and today was it's last day. I cannot be me and not be running. That's un-possible.

Henry paddling around on Uncle Pat's board. The water was colder than usual, but crystal clear. I swear you can see the curve of the horizon in this shot.

Liz and Ted are in from NYC and met us at the beach.

One last pair of ever-so-classy Christmas Eve photo - we had dinner at the Webbers, and our host came up with a very clever invention. Here is my husband, modeling the mistletoe belt buckle:

Me and the clever inventor:

The Joker Made Me Do It.

I drove in to work yesterday. Because everyone on Earth (ok, in my house) has a three-week Christmas Vacation and has nowhere to be, I was able to take the car. It was the first time I've driven to work in the two months I've been at TEC. It was oddly luxurious. I was at work 45 minutes after waking up. And I wasn't dripping in sweat. It wasn't the plan, but my brother brought home The Dark Night. And it was really, really good. I thought it was 10 when it ended, but it was closer to midnight. And I can't do less than 5 hours of sleep. So Heath Ledger made me do it, it's all his fault. Hey, if they're going to give him a posthumous Oscar, I can give him a little posthumous consumer-guilt.

Today is my Friday. When I was groundwater sampling six days a week, I built up some comp time, so I'm taking the next two Fridays off. We'll head to Kaui's tonight to celebrate (read her blog and she won't make fun of you on it) the beginning of five days off. During which I will pretend that I am like the 6 jobless vagrants living at our house right now. Except I will shower more often than Henry does.

The newspaper's minute by minute updates of Barack's activities (5:06 pm, flushing was heard) make my stalking look like mere coincidence. I have nothing new to report. Except that he's working out at Semper Fit on the Kaneohe Marine Corps Base at 7 each morning and Amy is out of town so I don't have a way to get on base. I'm racking my brain for other marine friends, but I'm not having much luck. I want to run on the tready next to Barry.

He's been golfing. My dad built a few of the golf courses on the windward side, but Barack hasn't braved the ball-eating Koolau Course yet. He's got the ball headed straight, but that swing is not pretty. *Please note: that is likely the only not-nice thing you will ever hear me say about the man.

I've been on Maggs' borrowed road bike for about a month now, and I'm finally getting the hang of this road bike thang. Today there was something in my legs.. I felt like a girl who knew how to ride a bike again, for the first time since the whole Kona debacle. It probably helps that my exercise for the past two days consisted of running back and forth along a cliff at Makapuu for Joss for two hours - not exactly intense, but I set a new bike commute world record by two minutes. And now that I'm here.. I should get off of blogger. Happy Holidays!

Little known talent:

Mr. Mom here can whip out 96 perfect cupcakes, all while studying for his crim final. While I took the kids to Honolulu Hale to visit the stormtroopers. The conversation went like this: Pretend to shoot my kid! Stormtrooper one: Really? Me: Or pull his hair as he tries to run away from you! Stormtrooper two: just shoot the kid.

My brother Patrick arrived last night. The children were really, really excited, until they realized he didn't have regenerating arms. On the car ride home from the airport, Sky showed him how to act like a starfish, straightening her arms and legs out wide from her carseat. Just in case he was wondering.

Patrick's favorite thing to say is: Don't say fuck in front of the b-a-b-y. He brought his girlfriend, Natalie. She's cute as can be. She is Lisa Loeb's long lost little sister.

I'm bike commuting enough to actually feel like I've started training. I have a health plan that seems to be working: 8 hours of sleep, an hour of running per day, and an elimination diet that has me on rice and cooked fruits and veggies until I feel better enough to start trying wild, crazy things like wheat. I'm feeling better everyday. The more minor of the migraine symptoms linger, but I can see, and I am not hurting. I'm enjoying my job. The people are awesome, and crack me up with lewd remarks, like wandering in and asking: How much would I have to pay you to give the boss a manzilian? I'm happy to be seeing, though I wouldn't mind getting that image out of my mind.

john stewart on gay marriage

religion is more of a choice than being gay.

we protect religious freedom and rights, but not gay rights and freedom. A loving well-financed gay family beats the hell out of Britney and Kevin.

Laughter is a requirement.

I am raising The Material Girl. Sky's Thanksgiving project came home. Most kids are thankful for shelter, family, food..

Sky, however, is thankful for her high heels. Is 5 too young for a Neiman's card?

I was instructed to start a migraine notebook to keep track of good days/bad days etc.. and I found this one in my desk. I bought it at the Osaka Int'l airport on my way home from Strongman. I get the distinct feeling it wasn't proofread by a native speaker.


Imagine my surprise in finding this little addict here at 3:30 am, in front of the Wii. He's been setting an alarm. It's hard to fault him.. I get up at 4 to run pretty often. Wyatt has a little gaming problem. This is Wyatt after his shower tonight, when he thought he was the only person upstairs, sneaking in some naked playstation-time.

I may be sick, but I'm still laughing. I mean, people are throwing shoes at our president, you know I had to laugh at that. My personal approval rating went up, I must admit, after watching the video. I was impressed by his lightening-fast reflexes.

I had a little reprieve today. It wasn't gone: I thought for sure there was an earthquake at lunch, but it was only in my mind. But the pain gave me a day off. I needed that! The marathon motivated me. 25,000+ people running down the middle of the street in the rain, setting PRs, floating along the pavement, focused, suffering, walking, blowing up.. I want to run another one. I want to go back to Boston. One of my friends took 6+ minutes off of his PR for a 2:57. He asked before the race if I wanted to trudge 4h with him. So much for that plan. But sub-3? I want to do THAT. I need to improve by 4 minutes and 57 seconds. So as soon as I find my health, I'll be finding a marathon.

In the battle of mind vs. body, body wins.

Actually, in the past six weeks, I would say it's body: 143, brain: 0.

I woke up only slightly dizzy and with pretty clear vision and decided it was time to tell my body how I felt about it's behavior of late: F You, body. I headed to the marathon start. Because seriously: Enough. On Saturday morning I felt good for two hours. Normal. The first two hours in six weeks. It was brief, I walked into a starbucks bathroom, flipped on the fluorescent light and fell down from the vertigo as another wave started. But they were a beautiful two hours!

So I got up, suited up in my lululemon tester outfit, and bummed a ride to the start with Derek, avoiding evil fluorescent light at all costs. I love the start of the marathon. There are 25,000 people lined up, and fireworks are set off with the cannon. I love rainy day runs.. and we're in day 3 of flash flood warnings, so there was plenty of rain. I ran the first few miles at 7:00 pace just to see if perhaps it would be a good day. Then the vertigo started hitting. Every 5 minutes or so, I would get hit hard and have to crouch down and steady myself until it passed. I had a bailout plan - Rams and the kids were waiting in our neighborhood, at mile 15.5. So I slowed down and ran a steady pace to the 13.1 point (1:35) and decided I had two options: Run 3:12 at Honolulu for the third time, because I always run 3:12 at Honolulu, or stop at 15.5, eat and cheer on friends. The vertigo and lack of hearing on one side that hit when I stopped was all the reassurance I needed that I had made the right call.. I really don't need to mess with my health any further for yet another 3:12. But I'm glad I went out and did the fun half of the marathon.

And so, the body wins. Again.

There were so many kind comments - thank you all. I'm OK today, though the computer screen is still difficult to look at. I'm looking out the window as I type. I will figure this out, somehow, someday. Until then I'm going to say no to everything I possibly can say no to, and continue to get second, third opinions from neurologists. I'm managing things the best I can, and so long as I can work and enjoy my kidlets, life goes on. Here we are post-half-mary, at the waterfall behind our house. It's usually a dry gully. Notice there was no F- on my bib.. phew, way less pressure. I hear I was in about 10th place when I bailed out. How appropriate!

No joy, no aloha.

I stole Liz's sherpa. That's right, Liz. Read it and weep. Your Sherpa Thomas was running 400s with me Wednesday morning. Six of them. OK, four, but in my defense, it was raining or something.

I am sorry to report that 6 runs in 6 weeks, on the days which I was feeling good enough to run, have left me way, way out of shape. Yesterday's run scared me. Even with fun company, it hurt. I was going to photoshop my face on Liz's body in that pic, but I'm having photoshop problems.

And then last night, my body decided I was feeling too good (I hadn't needed to take a pain med in nearly 24 hours!) and I was hit with vertigo so bad I almost fell down. The start of round three. This one has ruined my vision to the point that I can't look at a computer screen for more than 10 or 20 seconds. So emails are unanswered, the blog will be temporarily abandoned, and the marathon unlikely to happen. I can't work. I'm here trying, but I think I'm going to have to go home. My body hates me. Life hates me.

I appreciate the well wishes, the sub-3 remarks (this is Honolulu, guys, the winner runs 2:06 elsewhere and 2:18 here! If ever I were to sub-3, it would not be here) and the ideas for getting out of this vicious cycle. Stress, yeah, but I've dropped all that I can. Not working is not an option. I'm signed up for zero races next year and am not adding training to my stress. I need someone to pay me a salary to do nothing, so that I can see again and support my family. Wouldn't that be nice?

Sky is watching you.

Sky's picked up a new habit. Every time we pass the road-rage neighbor who followed me home and into my garage, grabbing at me and screaming that he was in a hurry and I should have driven faster (I inconsiderately slowed down to let cyclists safely down our hill) she does this at him. Where ever could she have learned that? From her dad. After the spitty, wrinkly old road-rager asked Ramsey if he was going to DO SOMETHING ABOUT getting him to leave, Ramsey does this at him every time we pass. Watch out, nasty old guy, Sky is watching you.

I ran for the first time in 8 days today, for about 45 minutes. On a positive note, my vision didn't get any worse for it, and it really wipes all head pain out, saving me another handful of pills. On a less positive side - my legs felt like crap. Super taper may not be working out so well after all. While running, I thought about how life will change if this continues. If I am a chronic migraineur for life. There are some that live like this. For me it means poor vision and likely the end of my driving days. And considering that I can train for one week every few weeks, it really does wipe out competitive athletics. The Drs. and drugs can't beat it. The fishy timing (first in 7 years on the day before my new job starts, the next one on a Sunday night a month later) make them all say it's stress. I feel busy, but I don't feel stressed. Life is always busy, and it always has been. Stress is wussytalk for busy.

On I ramble.. here's what this post is really about: the hobbies I am considering as replacements for training and racing:

Smoking. Just to try the opposite route. Double bonus here - it will make me too phlemy and wheezy to run, and will destress me. It's been 9 yrs and I still want one! Good thing I didn't dabble in crack in college.
Knitting. Maybe competitive knitting. My little sister knits. I bet I could pearl faster, or knit knittier or something.
Portuguese Horseshoes. It's big here. And involves throwing painted washers into a small hole in a piece of plywood, while drinking beer.
Helicopter-momming. I think that means hovering over your children everywhere they go, but I need to look it up on The Wiki. I think having no life of one's own is a requirement. I could get into that. The best part is when you tell the kid's teachers how to teach. They love that.
Egyptology. Just because.

Feel free to make other suggestions. I need something to look forward to.

I need to make a HUGE shoutout to Beth. 3:03 and third overall - in her first ever marathon. And she looked gorgeous doing it. You rock, Beth. If I wear my lulu shorts and my zoot compression socks on Sunday, can I run 3:03?

No Joy, No Aloha.
Resting my head seems to require the resting of my legs. Since I’m in the early stages of another headache, which is a pathetic thing to have to say on Day 5, I’m keeping the heart rate low while trying to stave off further vision loss. I want to drive a car again someday. What can I say, I dream big. So this is the super-taper. I haven’t exercised since Sunday’s long run, the last before next Sunday’s marathon. The odds of running the marathon diminish as my head pain lingers on, my vision goes in and out, and my confidence in my health continues to wane.
Had you asked 6 weeks ago how I would rate my health in comparison with the rest of America, I would have said I was significantly healthier. At least two standard deviations above average, perhaps even freakishly healthy, I would have told you. I had faith in my body and its ability to do whatever my little brain told it to do. Now I don’t trust it enough to commit to JQ’s birthday dinner in 5 hours. It will likely fail me again between now and then. I don’t have a lot nice to say, which is why the posts are coming less frequently, and the emails and phone calls are going unreturned. I firmly believe that it’s better not to say anything at all. In five weeks, I have had five days without feeling like there was a little man on my head ramming a knife in and out of my brain, leaving giant floaty blobs of nothingness in my eyes. I am whelmed.
The silver lining is that there is no freaking silver lining. OK, except for the reminder that without health there really is nothing else. It’s the primary requirement for everything I enjoy in life.
My email closing has wilted from Have a great day, Rachel to Life sucks and then you die, Rachel.

I'm a pain in my own ass these days.

If I lived with me, this would be my list of complaints:

• Cries incessantly about never-ending neurological distress
• Disappears for 14 hours, then comes home covered in HCl burns and refuses to do laundry
• Complains irrationally about Phillip Seymour Hoffman's success
• Can't see out of left eye, but has zero sense of humor for pirate jokes
• Eats all the peppermint ice cream

This is the super-taper. It's also the super-bitchy taper. I haven’t exercised since Sunday’s long run, trying to stave off the vision loss of round two by taking it easy. The odds of running the marathon diminish as my head pain lingers on, my vision goes in and out, and my confidence in my health continues to wane.

Had you asked six weeks ago how I would rate my health in comparison with the rest of America, I would have said I was significantly healthier. At least two standard deviation above the mean, I would have told you. I had faith in my body and its ability to do whatever my little brain told it to do. Now I don’t trust it enough to commit to JQ’s birthday dinner in 5 hours. I admit it - I am whelmed. I want to sleep for a month and wake up when this is over. Without health there really is nothing else.

We had a little convo about living in America here today. Henry, my nerdy one, is all hopped up on patriotism as the anniversary of Pearl Harbor approaches. He likes America for all the standard reasons: Freedom, hotdogs, baseball, wars.. Wyatt, however, is just here for the video games. Sky likes America because the cockroaches all freeze in the winter. Whatever that means.

Published!

I have a whole page in the December issue of Honolulu Magazine. Because you're reading this, it's unlikely anything I wrote is news to you. Because it's just like my blog. But it's really exciting to see it in print! And to get paid for it. I love the art work they put together, though I have to admit that my volvo wagon isn't that hippie. It's more yuppie. And a little scary. Something is eating the spilled candy.

And Stefan sent this from Inside Tri's Kona photos - making me twice published, I suppose. The love I have for swimming just shines right through, doesn't it? Katherine, too. Do not be alarmed, I don't have leprosy. Those are crash scars.

I felt a little better over the weekend. Actually, there was a week without migraine pain. My vision didn't clear up, but I was overly optimistic and attempted to renew my driver's license. I failed miserably and was given the geriatric "you're so blind you can only drive with a Dr's note" slip of paper. Two months ago I came in at 20/15 in both eyes at a physical. The migraine started all over again Sunday night. I'm committed to 12 hour work days sampling ground water for the next 7 days straight. If someone told me shooting heroin would cure me, I would totally do it. And you know how I feel about needles. Cut off my own leg to end this forever? No problem.

Things could be worse. My children are lying here next to me giggling at lame Hannah Montana jokes. The boys are secret Hannah lovers - make fun of them next time you see them. They're all joy and happiness and health. And if someone's health has to fall to pieces, at least it's mine.

I'm drowning my pain in hot tamales.

If this were a race, she would win.

My little Bad Ass

David took these of Sky at the Kakaako Crit this summer. I was directing cars on a corner, not racing, because crits are scary and I can crash just fine on my own. But it seems Sky caught the competitive spirit.. all she needs now is a custom Splish kit.

The weekend at the beach was just what we needed. Thank you Steve for the house! We had visitors:Tim & Mariane came by on Thanksgiving (and are hopefully on their way to Phuket by now for the race) and Heather, Steve & Miles came out and stayed with us. They brought lots of beer and two stand up boards, making them our new BFFs. Ramsey and Steve ran together and played basketball while Heather and I took turns paddling, attempting to surf the un-waves, and watching the kids. We also had Angus, my sister's baby - that is not Gizmo on the chair with me. We didn't feed him after midnight. My six year old beat me at Gin - on his first attempt. We've long suspected he was smarter than me, and now it is proven.

I gave him his first beer to dumb him down.. and he beat me again.

As for that Turkey Trot - well, I screwed it up. I ran with my three screw-up friends. I put down 1:09 and went 1:11. Oh well. Wil took lots of video along the way, but so far I can only get audio. Movies to come..

Turkey, wasps and wallabies. Oh, and J.Lo.

Ramsey just suggested we move to Somalia and become pirates. Law school must be super fun this week. Henry's passport has expired, so we have some time to think on this.

We're about to pack it in and go ewa. I use the term go ewa all the time (it's said ev-uh, just in case you're a mainland haole as opposed to a resident haole like me) to tell people to head west. But I never actually go all the way to Ewa. But before I go I'll hit the Turkey Trot in the morning. It's a 10 mile chunk of the marathon course. You pay $3 and they give you a popsicle stick. You guess your time, write it on the stick, and then run with it. No watches, garmins, ipods etc allowed. When you cross the line they write your time on your stick and the closest guess wins. I think they get a turkey, but I wouldn't know. I consistently underestimate myself by at least 5 minutes. This year I'll shoot for 70 minutes. I think I know a 7 minute mile. Maybe I'll give myself too much credit.

I spent 4 hours on another base today. I don't get all that excited about hour meetings that run for four, especially those that don't provide food or water or alcohol or ritalin. There should have been ritalin in the water. What amazed me was the excessive wealth of the military. I was reminded of J Lo flying her eyebrow groomer around with her at all times because she can. I spent my afternoon trying to sleep with my eyes open while listening the military version of I might get an ingrown, so I need her here to pluck.

Even though I realize the election is over, I still love this campaign propaganda and must share:

In local news today, I found that Hawaii purposefully introduced a non-native species. It's a wasp that we hope will kill other wasps that are killing native wiliwili trees. Super. Hawaii has an excellent history with introductions, like that time they brought mongeese (mongooses?) in to eat all the rats in the sugar cane. Too bad the mongoose likes the sun and the rats are nocturnal. I wonder if a rat has ever even seen a mongoose? Some of our native birds are nearing extinction.. maybe we should bring in the brown tree snake from Guam to eat the rest! I learned something new in searching for other introductions to make fun of. There are wallabies on Oahu. Time to take the kids hiking in Kalihi!

What better week for gratituesday?

1. Cal kicking Stanford's coniferous butt at the big game. I don't actually know the score, but I know we won. Which is fitting, since I never actually went to a game, but big game day was always the best day.

2. My kids and their infinite goofiness. And their health, for which I'm grateful even on my blindest day.

3. Cake's version of Mahna Mahna. Cake's anything, really.

4. That tomorrow really = Friday.

5. Steve, for giving us a beach house out at Iroquois Point Island Club for the long weekend. It's a family vacation that doesn't require the metal death box!

6. All the people that have helped through the past few weeks, or cut me a break when I couldn't show up/work/party as originally planned.

7. Yogurtland. But my husband might be more thankful.

8. That as of yesterday, a year after we bought this place, there is a beautiful master bedroom where there was once only dirt. Bob didn't know what he was mumbling about.. it's all about marrying a house carpenter.

9. My right eye. It rolled in at 20/15 this week. The left could almost make out the big D at the top of the chart. I drive a silver volvo with a giant Andre the Giant face on the back window. Steer clear.

10. That Sky has the memory of a goldfish. She came home with a flyer for cheerleading. I hid it.

F10.

Here's what I learned in 40 hours of HAZWOPER: Don't lick the poison.

Also, don't ever, ever shoot the lid off of a container of hazardous waste with a firearm.

I am so much smarter now, I don't at all feel like I wasted a week of my life.

I ran with the Boca group this rainy Saturday morning. Last year I coached this clinic, but this year.. well, too many balls in the air. We ran the first 9 miles out to Hawaii Kai socially, chatting away. Raul instructed us to run back at goal marathon pace, and I was determined to hold onto Glenn and Dave, because peer pressure makes me faster. We waded back to Waikiki running 6:45s. It poured the whole time, and I never would have made it through 19 miles in that weather, let alone at that pace, alone.

I also received my marathon number today. I asked a new friend, who happens to be the RD, if I could have an entry, since it's really expensive at this point. And he sent me F10 and the list of elites and their PRs. There are 9 men, 10 women, and only one isn't from Kenya or Russia. Me. All of the PRs are 30+ min faster than my 3:04. But man, the elite start in front of 28,000 runners? The VIP tent for me and the family at the finish? I know I don't fit in, but how could I say no? Here I was thinking I would never get a number cooler than last year's.. and now I have: F10. Three weeks till race day!


There is new Neil coming. New old Neil. Thank you DJ Berner, for the head's up. For the fellow Neil junkies, you can hear it first on NPR.

Continuing Education

Don't tell my bike liberals are lazy! After two days of bike commuting, Clem is getting into the groove.. note the ancient Navy EIS on the bars, soy latte in cage, and longing glances out the window, undoubtedly wondering if everyone outside is having more fun.

The bus took 80 min. The bike takes 45. Sure, it's dark and I've been poured on both days, but it's efficient. I drafted off my former bus on Beretania, and was hit on by a mountain bike with slicks (whose hairy rider suavely mentioned how hard it was to determine on the dark deserted street who was hotter, me or my bike) which in turn led to my first bike interval in months.

I'm in the midst of my 40 hour HAZWOPER at work, and will spend the next 20 hours of it making up potential definitions for that funky acronym, which they have yet to define. I think I've got the HAZ down. Today was a meeting with the Army Air Field folks, for whom I'm writing an Environmental Assessment. In the hangar, I climbed into a UH-60 Blackhawk and was offered a ride. Hah! No sirree, unfashionable green&tan coverall-sporters, don't you know that at least 50% of those things end in crash? No doubt they all have great faith in my research abilities after whipping that stat out.

The power of the blog was demonstrated today in my first facebook message from hairy little brother number two: I arrive on Dec 16 and leave Jan 5th. He had better get off the plane dressed like a starfish or the kids are going to be pissed.

Found.

I said to my WWII stat-spouting son: You sound like Patrick. Henry replied: Who is Patrick? Sky answered: He's the starfish from Spongebob!

Apparently it's time for my brother Patrick to come for a visit. We haven't seen him in a couple of years. I didn't believe this was him when I found it, but as one of his friends commented on FB: Look at that hairy thing! Oh, and there's a goat!

I have a lot of little brothers. This particular one is working on a PhD at Georgetown. Something about old, dead stuff. The one getting a masters in booze is likely having more fun.

Today was a day of discoveries. I rediscovered the cumulative effect. If I run, run, and run, the runs just get better. After 18.75 miles yesterday, today's 9 miles with 6 x1000 was the best run I've had in ages. Maybe the best run ever, since I'm feeling superlative. I found that if I start at the bottom end of Portlock Road and run my time-guesstimated 1000 I finish at the gate of the house I grew up in.

And at lunchtime, I found this:

There's a YWCA 50 feet from my office, down an alleyway, facing Iolani Palace. I've lived 15 years in this city and never seen it. It's a Julia Morgan building with beautiful details. And a gym, pool, shower, locker, and Saturday ballet classes for Sky.. I found it all for $30/month. If it looks familiar, it's because it's the psych ward on Lost.

So The Bus and I are breaking up. With the 20 min walk to the stop, downhill in heels (both ways!) the 5:39 am express (I use that word lightly) was taking me 80 frigid minutes to get to town. I shivered while people who didn't brush their teeth fought to sit next to me. It's 15 miles each way, which is well under an hour on the bike, especially at 5:30 in the morning. It is time to ride my bike again. No more excuses. I'm really excited about riding my bike. REALLY. Super-duper totally excit.. bleh.


PS. I will shout it off the rooftops when I can see again, but until then, I'm done whining about it. Many of you nice people commented on my zen-like attitude. Was that reverse psychology? Because I don't think zen means muttering the f-word at my brain as much as I do. Or popping narcotics at work. I mean, it's almost like I'm sweeping the ants out of my path as I wa- wait, no, it's not at all. I'll say something about it when I have something good to say, I promise.

Mind over eye-blob.

The exciting thing about valium? It isn't that exciting. I didn't turn all happy-housewife and bake pies while my kids jumped off the balcony into the pool and threw rocks at the neighbor's pets. I just fell asleep. I am over not seeing. Not better, just over it. The pain kept me up most of the night, but it comes and goes. I can go a good 15 minutes without noticing the floaty thing in my eye now. I only thought about it twice on my run, both times during the 40' of tempo, when I was looking for an excuse to quit. I ran 15 miles and realized I'm facing another steep marathon build if I want to run Honolulu in December.. because 15 was hard.

My friend Kaui had a birthday party tonight. I never thought I would be raising my kids with the kids of my high school friends, but every couple there contained a classmate. And I loved it. I love raising my kids here where I grew up. Kaui's backyard view makes me feel like I'm back in Tahiti. The parties start like this:

And by dark, the grown-ups are beating the hula girl pinata and mini airplane-booze bottles are falling out. Hula girls as pinatas may not have been especially well thought-out. There were cries of "rip off her leg!" and "go for the head!" that may have not been appropriate for a younger child's birthday party. The mix of candy, whiskey bottles and condoms that came out of her beaten torso were only slightly more inappropriate than Kaui's mom busting some of the parents smoking contraband outside her bedroom window. When the hula girl exploded, Pat warned the kids that the pinata was full of chores to keep the condom questions at bay.

I had no talent for the talent show that preceded dessert. But Henry rocked it with armpit farts. My husband drank enough to motivate me to start driving again. It had been two weeks, but I've reached a point where I'm comfortable enough with my sight to get behind the wheel.

I alternate between my Things Fall Apart mindset and my normal it'll all work itself out self. Life is too hard sometimes, and this continues to be one of those times. But nothing lasts.

The thin line between quirky and crazy.

Well, the cocktail wasn't that fun. But I lost 6 pounds in two days, so if I were on the biggest loser instead of in the biggest migraine, I would have been super stoked. My blood pressure was so low while cocktailing that I had to squat down and put my head between my knees every time I tried to stand up, which looks funny when you're at work and you're wearing a dress. And no one knows you're on medication, you're just the quirky new girl.

The cocktail also didn't change anything. I woke up and tried to be positive, to tell myself I could see perfectly and it was all over.. ok, now it's all over.. ok, now! But it wasn't meant to be.

I checked in with the neuro today. She ordered me into the tube of death. Every time I go in there they play the Curious George soundtrack. Is Jack the official music of MRI? Or is it just because every time I go anywhere in this state they play Jack? I put a pillow over my eyes before they caged my head so that I couldn't accidentally open my eyes. Panic attack! Panic attack! Whew. 25 minutes later it was official: I didn't have a stroke.

Then I hit the needle shop. I seriously lose my shit when it comes to needles. It's not a pain thing, it's a gross thing. Metal things should not be in my veins! The nurses get all excited about my big nasty man-veins, then blow them out one by one while I hyperventilate. I am not above biting. I didn't have babies without drugs to experience the joy of birth. I had babies without drugs because drugs require needles. I spent 6h in the hospital while drugs were delayed because they thought I was dying. If your heart rate is under 40 at Kaiser, you need a pacemaker. My normal blood pressure of 98/40 was not making anyone happy either. They poured bags of saline into me, and my blood pressure still made the alarms go off. I felt fine. But now I kind of wonder what my bp was when I was falling over in my office - 40/11?

After my string of performances today at Kaiser they sent me home with valium. Apparently someone thinks I'm a little high strung. I actually feel better.. I am not 100%, but I've exhausted the medical treatment for fixing a prolonged migraine. The neuro has got nothing for me and the pain is gone, all that remains is funky vision. So now it's mine to get rid of, and I know my brain isn't about to explode or anything..

I started with 7 miles in 49 minutes. Turns out 11 days off is good for something! It was a nose-breather and the legs were ready to run. I'm pretty sure swimming and biking aren't good for migraines though.

Tomorrow Ramsey turns 109. For his birthday I gave him 7 hours in the hospital and good odds of picking up MRSA. Happy birthday, honey!

It's all my fault.

We caved. There is TV in our house for the first time in two years. I had to have it for election night. Even a one-eyed view of Barack is good Barack. But now there is all kinds of new stuff being said around here:

This is totally inappropriate for children my age - Henry (Keep in mind that when Henry speaks, he sounds like a New Yorker with a clothespin on his nose.)

NO TALKING DURING JON STEWART! -Ramsey

What is "kind-of a lesbian?" - Wyatt, who just doesn't get Grey's

The concensus on the migraine that won't go away is that it is all my fault. It seems the likely culprit is my brain. Not just the gross little veins, capilaries, retinas and other mush, but the part that takes on too much, then worries like mad. I didn't feel especially stressed out last week, but I was gearing up to start a new full time job, no longer had a car to commute with, I had lost my health insurance, the mortgage was my responsibility, I was coming off a long race and not getting much sleep. I was also eating crap, which while not at all unusual for me, is additional stress on the body. I did this to myself.

I still cannot see correctly, or drive a car, and in the past 5 days I have ingested fiorecet, toradol, maxalt, imitrex, advil, aleve, magnesium, relpax, aspirin and whatever was in the drip bags at the hospital. I especially like the fiorecet. Come back, my old anonymous commenter, this is your moment to shine! If you call me a doper again, I promise I won't call you an uninformed ass this time.

For now, I am trying my best to chill. And type with my eyes closed. I'm not going to Silverman. Which means no Dawn and Ira, no Amanda L, no marathon, no Memphis & Luke, no Courtenay, and no Madonna. I am so disappointed. To be honest, I am so, so scared that I will never see correctly again. This vision thing that comes with a migraine has always been my biggest fear. Strap a cage on my head and put in the rats, it's all very Orwell. This weekend will be spent quietly, alone, with plenty of time at the beach, relaxing my way back to healthy, telling myself that it will not last forever.

Yippee.

My three munchkins, this summer, peacing-out in front of our future president's Hyde Park house. :)

I still can't see. Hospital, Drs, drugs, chiropractor.. don't know what's next. I can't imagine not having it at this point; this is the migraine that refuses to go away. Half of everything on my left side is swirling, glowing, spinning and making me sick. Back to closing my eyes.. can't get into a neurologist until 11/18. I heart Kaiser. Thank you, everyone, for the emails, the well-wishes on the blog, the ideas, etc. I'm faking it at the job. It's not purty. I'll be back on when I can see the whole screen again..