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.