February food and running resolution reflections

Food: make eating its own event
Don't eat in front of a screen. Chew more.

Running: run through it
Go straight through the mud, water, rocks, whatever. Use momentum.

February was a success all around. I ate breakfast and dinner each day without screentime, reading, or other distractions, for the most part. Lunch is another story, because I use my break time to work out and then end up eating and working at my desk. I still think that's the best use of my time.

I ran straight through lots of mud, puddles, and running water throughout the month, and after the first couple of weeks it became second nature. The funny thing is that my shoes and pants haven't really gotten wetter or muddier for it. Several times, in fact, I could swear I've stayed cleaner. The main benefit is that it really conserves energy-- I no longer pause and then have to accelerate, or spend time trying to puzzle out the best way through. I just keep going!

Coming up: two tough ones that will prove extremely valuable.

Food: eat smaller meals
Take a smaller serving. Split restaurant food in half before digging in. Leave a few bites on the plate. Use smaller plates/containers.

Running: stretch
Before and/or after. Morning and/or night. Use the foam roller, MELT balls and other tools.


I'll have my first go at them tonight. We're eating out at a restaurant that serves way too much delicious food, and I've scheduled recurring time on my calendar to stretch in the evening.

Running resolutions

I'm starting a month in, and this doesn't cover the whole year, but here it is: a schedule of monthly running resolutions. Not listed here, because it's more of a year-long goal is that I want to focus on fuel. Instead of relying on sugary blocks or pre-made chemically goo, I want to work on making my own whole food, nutrient dense snacks for the long haul. So far these healthy brownies are my favorite.
 
Monthly running goals
Things to concentrate on each month. I'll keep what works and ignore what doesn't-- after giving it an approximately 30 day trial.

February: run through it
Go straight through the mud, water, rocks, whatever. Use momentum.

March: stretch
Before and/or after. Morning and/or night. Use the foam roller, MELT balls and other tools.

April: tempo runs
No more race distance to prep for-- bring on the speedier mid-week runs.

May: hills
Add in some gnarly hills and elevation gain. Repeat.

June: speedwork
Hit the track once a week.

July: new terrain
Search out new routes and trails to try.

August: double up
Try two runs in a day-- great training for Hood to Coast.

September: MacKenzie River 50k
And then a long vacation!

January food resolution reflections

It's the end of January. This month's mantra was "simple meals." My guidelines were:
 Focus on the veg. Try new side dish recipes. When in doubt, roast it. Maybe even try steaming.

How did my first monthly food resolution go?

A half-hearted okay. I did try to go simpler with meals I cooked, separating the parts. I served rice, veg, and a saucy faux meat, rather than heaping everything together in one magnificent curry with seven different veggies, for example. But for some reason this month seems like it had more than its fair share of eating out, which feels like a failure.

Next up: "make eating its own event: Don't eat in front of a screen. Chew more." Sounds easy enough, right? Perhaps I can turn the whole (short!) month into an exercise in mindfulness, even though I often don't want to be in the present (rush hour traffic, waking up at 5am!). Strive for the balance.

New years resolutions

It's been two years. Far too long. Worse than that, to start a post with such a cliche! Regardless, the reason for my absence is also cliche: I had a baby.

The new year started, and I'm still mulling what I want 2013 to be. What should I keep, and what should I leave behind? For the things I hold onto, what's my goal? For the things I get rid of, with what shall I replace them?

As always, my two focuses are eating and running. Although I eat healthily in general, there is always room for improvement. Like everyone else, I'd like to focus on eating more whole foods, simpler and closer to the source; fewer white starchy things; less sugar; smaller meals. Running is easy. I'd like to get faster and run farther.

Normally I'd just leave it at that, but it really does help to have concrete goals and a schedule. I know what I need to do, and there's an obvious direct line to get there, but that's not the same thing as the day-to-day of staying there. So I am going to take the time to formulate a real plan.

Monthly food goals
Things to concentrate on each month. I'll keep what works and ignore what doesn't-- after giving it an approximately 30 day trial.

January: simple meals
Focus on the veg. Try new side dish recipes. When in doubt, roast it. Maybe even try steaming.

February: make eating its own event
Don't eat in front of a screen. Chew more.

March: eat smaller meals
Take a smaller serving. Split restaurant food in half before digging in. Leave a few bites on the plate. Use smaller plates/containers.

April: eat earlier
No more eating after dinner.

May: add in the power
Research nutrition. Sub in more nutritive options, like sweet potato instead of white potato. Try new superfoods, like coconut oil instead of veg oil.

June: cut the sugar
Use fruit for sweetness. Search out healthy dessert recipes.

July: abstain
Try a month without sugar, alcohol, oil, coffee.

August: add herbs
Experiment with herbs.

September: reduce sodium
Use less salt. Low sodium soy sauce/tamari

October: eat less starch
Up the veggies-to-grain/starch ratio. Skip the bread.

November: live it up for Thanksgiving! Gotta have a break some time.

December: drink before eating
Drink a cup of water before eating-- sometimes the feeling of hunger is actually thirst.


Running goals next, and then on to some other general things...

30 Things recap

Well, a month has passed since my birthday and it's time to get on it. Here's my list for my 32nd year, and how it went:

1. finish a sewing project-- No. Started one but my sewing machine was packed up for the remodel.
2. knit a pair of gloves-- No. Again, I started, but am on my third start-over-again.
3. complete a photo project November 30 (Vegan MoFo)
4. make donuts July 25
5. go snowboarding January 31
6. run a half marathon in under 2 hours-- No. My running goals took a very different direction in August.
7. make a painting-- No. Not even close.
8. create a signature granola recipe-- No.
9. learn the trail names of Tualatin Hills Nature Park-- Yes! Although I couldn't pinpoint a date.
10. run all of Wildwood Trail November 13
11. build a patio in the backyard-- No. I barely looked out in the garden, with the remodel crap littering the yard since April.
12. create art for my garden-- No.
13. run a marathon May 2
14. repaint my sewing room-- No. But now the back wall is reinforced and rebuilt-- perfect timing!
15. write a work (novel? graphic novel? short story?) based on a music album-- No.
16. enter a photo contest June 7
17. try playing the cello-- No.
18. learn how to apply eyeshadow-- No.
19. try new hairstyles-- Kindof. I had a week of trying, but that's about it.
20. make (& wear) spats-- No.
21. hike in the desert January 16
22. go out dancing June 11
23. watch FLCL-- No. Where the heck is the disc?!
24. clean out my car-- No. But I did go through and test all of the lights and change three bulbs recently.
25. sew with LEDs (wearable circuit)-- No.
26. keep up with my book blog-- Mostly yes.
27. write more often (frequency)-- Yes.
28. take a photography class July 25
29. improve my reading speed-- No.
30. do the splits-- No.
31. complete an olympic distance triathlon August 22

Fourteen out of 31. Not bad, considering the house remodel that started in April and has been going on ever since. Still, I need to get an earlier start this year. Which clearly I am terrible at-- already a month into my 33rd year!

Life lists

As an admitted list-lover, I enjoy reading other people's lists, and often think in terms of them. What do I feel like for dinner tonight? Top five ideas, based on what's in the fridge. What music should I listen to right now? Top ten songs that are proven to help me get work done.

But these are short-term lists, and with the past seven out-of-town weekends in a row, my recent career doubts, and my birthday coming up, it's a good time to think longer-term.

What's on my life list?

1. Attend Comic Con (San Diego, July)
2. Participate in Iceland Airwaves (Reykjavik, October)
3. Visit the Galapagos for as long as possible
4. Ride the Orient Express
5. Stay in an over-water bungalows
6. Walk the Great Wall of China
7. Run a marathon in another country-- run one marathon every year
8. Dress up for Halloween every year
9. Run each leg of Hood to Coast
10. Stay in a fire lookout, preferably one you snowshoe to
11. Live and work in another country (New Zealand!)
12. Scuba dive around Vancouver Island, one of the top marine life hotspots in the world

That's a good start.

Number 31

Well, I finally did it. After three years of thinking about it and doing shorter sprint-distance triathlons, I registered for and completed a twice-as-long Olympic distance tri.

It was one of my loftier goals for the year, and as the time drew nearer to the All-Women's event at the end of July, I got serious about swimming. With eight weeks til the race, I worked out a way to ramp up my swimming distance to end at the race distance-- a full mile.

It turned out that an old friend was getting married the night before that race, so I spent a few weeks ignoring the issue before hunkering down to pick a race. Finding a race of the distance I wanted on a free weekend (after August 1) turned out to be tough. I had my choice of two on the same day: one in Kent, WA, away from home with a 50 yard swim out to a deep-water start; or Portland's triathlon with a swim in the infamously filthy Willamette River.

You can guess which one I chose-- the easier one! I registered two or three weeks beforehand so I couldn't back out.

Krista, an amazing swimmer and patient, generous friend, took me swimming at Hagg Lake twice, so I got some much-needed open water experience. When an email went out mentioning a practice swim in the Willamette, I was floored that she agreed to go with me for that, too. She even stayed with me, practically treading water while I swam my damnedest.

After that, I knew I would at least make it. But I was still nervous enough to lose sleep and have negative thoughts circling endlessly in my head.

The morning of the race, I woke up an extra hour early (4:30am) and lay in bed. Instead of having to bike to the start with all of my gear on my back, my husband drop me and dropped me off at the transition. I joined a long line waiting to be marked with age and race number.

The transition area was a free-for-all. Often, space is determined by race number and distance, but not this time. I was worried about finding space, but after asking and being turned down, a group of three men-- who were doing the Olympic as a relay team-- offered me space by them. They were so friendly and nice, chatting with them helped me relax. I got everything ready in my little transition area, and Erik snuck in to give me a kiss and wish me well.

Then it was time to head down to the dock for the swim start. I was in the third and final wave, so I got to wait and absorb the instructions three times. Walking down the ramp in my bare feet, among 100 women (my wave was all women), most of them wearing wetsuits

*** Published unfinished ***

Numbers 21 and 5 are completed (in that order). #1, 13, 26, 27, and 30 are in progress; some more than others. Perhaps it's not fair that a few of the items on the list (I'm looking at you, 13) are things I'd do during the year, regardless; things I've done already. I like the mix of things that seem difficult and time-consuming but doable, and things that seem tiny and quick for others but near-insurmountable to me (18, 19).

Here are photos from the desert hike.

January progress

I'm not doing so well with my list. New Year's Eve turned into a quiet night at home, since Erik worked til 10pm. I did not go snowboarding the next day because of the forecasted wind and rain.

I made these convertible mitten/fingerless gloves years ago as a gift for Julie, and I think I'm going to make them again to complete #2 on my list. I remember the pattern being surprisingly easy to follow, no mean feat for someone as hopeless with directions as myself.

In the new year, and number 30

Having a list of 31 things to do in the next 11 months, I realized that I'd better get started. After all, I have to cross off almost three items a month in order to make it!

Tomorrow should take care of #5-- I bought the lift tickets today and Erik has agreed to hang out on the beginner slopes with me.

Another one I thought would be easy(ish) to get started on is number 30. Really, it has me the most worried. Sure, it's easy to start, but it's something I've attempted before and never achieved. It's a very long term goal, too, with a tiny bit of work every day. I'm in great shape right now: running, lifting weights, practicing yoga regularly (although only once a week), so this particular feat of agility should be within my grasp. And it does take more than flexibility. Your arms have to be strong enough to hold your body in an uncomfortable position without letting the leg muscles tense up, and you have to be able to breeeeathe through the pain (always good practice).

I've also been doing particularly well with daily goals. This week, since I've been working from home, I've been able to read (and recycle) one magazine a day (I have a huge backlog since we get so many as gifts and for free) and get rid of one item a day. The latter was proposed to me by a friend who pared down his belongings to an extent that worried his family. Being a pack rat, I'm sure I won't go that far, but I really admire his spartan aesthetic and the ability to be able to travel lightly. The discarded item can be big or small-- it's just the idea of slowly and steadily working on large projects and big issues that really appeals to me.

That said, I've had a lot of success with my before-bed ritual. I know this is boring, but since I've had to wear a night guard to minimize grinding damage to my teeth, I've stuck with flossing, brushing, taking an iron supplement, washing my face and putting moisturizer on (eyes, face, lips and hands!) every single night. All of those things we're supposed to do that are so annoying and are quickly derailed by just skipping it "this one time." Things that really make a difference over time and will allow me to enjoy better health, longer. I am now officially no longer a spring chicken.

So I guess that's my mantra for the new year: slow and steady, every day. Hopefully I will find ways to apply that to my newly manifested dream of becoming a travel writer and photographer.

Wanderlust

I am sick of seeing beauty, of being inspired by shapes in a way I can't verbalize, of catching my breath in the birth of an idea, and not doing anything. I feel impotent. I am fascinated by everything. I want to do everything. But I never get anything done in the hot mess of my mind because I cannot gain purchase to push off from.

I finally know what I want. I want to be a travel writer and photographer. My god, I'm 31: how did it take me this long to realize what I want to do with my life? I've just spent the last 10 years as a web developer, working mostly on internal projects. Always behind the scenes, working on the projects that aren't big, shiny or impactful, never getting credit. I'm earning the same salary as when I started, and I still get treated as a junior.

Well why wouldn't I? I have no passion for any of this-- nothing pushing me to excel, try new things, or learn when it's not expressly convenient. I am not a web developer at heart.

I'm a traveler, a wanderer, someone with acute observation skills and adequate writing abilities and decent photography knowledge. The way I've always lived my life (by necessity) has become more popular in recent years, so my niche has come to me. The seed has been planted, roots dug in, and now I just have to figure out how the hell to start.

To list, perchance to learn

I had no idea that making a list of 31 things to do over the next... now 11 months... would be so difficult. It almost reads as a craft to-do list, although that was far from my original intention.

The thing is, I'm good at seeking out new experiences. I am not good at finishing. Finishing anything. Following instructions, recipes, steps. That's something I want to work on, to learn. Maybe that's really what my 31st year will be about.

But there are so many things I want to do, to make. For starters: everything. I have a vast fabric collection, dreaming in my sewing-room closet of what each yard showed me it wanted to be. I have a collection of links to coveted jewelry that I'd like to try my hand at recreating or at least taking the inspiration and seeing where it leads. Visiting a new country each year. Running a marathon once a year. Trails, coastline, mushrooms, trees, birds. The road untraveled: I want to travel it.

List for 31

I love lists. I love Hula Seventy's lists of "x Things To Do Before I turn x+1." So here's my version:

1. finish a sewing project
2. knit a pair of gloves
3. complete a photo project
4. make donuts July 25
5. go snowboarding January 31
6. run a half marathon in under 2 hours
7. make a painting
8. create a signature granola recipe
9. learn the trail names of Tualatin Hills Nature Park
10. run all of Wildwood Trail
11. build a patio in the backyard
12. create art for my garden
13. run a marathon May 2
14. repaint my sewing room
15. write a work (novel? graphic novel? short story?) based on a music album
16. enter a photo contest June 7
17. try playing the cello
18. learn how to apply eyeshadow
19. try new hairstyles
20. make (& wear) spats
21. hike in the desert January 16
22. go out dancing June 11
23. watch FLCL
24. clean out my car
25. sew with LEDs (wearable circuit)
26. keep up with my book blog
27. write more often (frequency)
28. take a photography class July 25
29. improve my reading speed
30. do the splits
31. complete an olympic distance triathlon August 22

The persons of people

I've never been good with people. One-on-one, I can get along with just about anyone, make them laugh, pull a good story out of them, even enjoy myself. But add another person, and my balance shakes. The more bodies, the worse I am able to divide my attention. I try to avoid large group situations, I hide, or I stick with one person in the crowd.

At work, though, almost everyone is smart, interesting, and genuinely friendly. It's fantastic, but most of them are also very social and interested in networking, so I often avoid the myriad impromptu and plannef gatherings, which means that my introversion is exposed and I don't spend much time even the people I really like. I care. I would get to know them better. I just can't focus when so many others dilute my small slice of charm.

Now it's too late in so many cases. I just want to send out the sentiment, the knowledge that I care.

The air is thinner at the coast, as I imagine it to be at the top of Mt Everest. Perhaps it's not the altitude but proximity to heaven or the alternate. Earthly vales are stretched. Perhaps it's the beauty, casting fiction over the rest of the senses with its staggering bulk.

I watched the moon rise quickly over the coast range, full and miraculous. A sunrise I can appreciate.

Lately I overhear whispers from the other side, snippets of the goings-on. The streets are wet with rain there, as here. People rush by. Here I sit at my desk for hours, bruised by fluorescent light. There, giant lanterns beckon ponderously in the wind, and I know I will stop for a minute at the temple, searching for a cat to cajole. Red glow from vertical signs and grill smoke from tented alleys along the train station, two ghosts haunt the city together. I know where I am, here. But I want to be there, lost.

I am no transformative flow of river

"Its language is inadequate for the rapid complex syntheses achieved by the minor hemisphere." -- Jerre Levy and R. W. Sperry, 1968

"Our brains are double, each half with its own way of knowing, its own way of perceiving external reality. In a manner of speaking, each of us has two minds..." Betty Edwards, The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, 1999

I am still, an underground lake, but the experience flows through me. Ripples charge the surface til the water absorbs the movement without a trace.

Reading this chapter of The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain explains why I've observed the most beautiful autumn I can remember, but I can't translate any of it into creativity.

For all the hours here that move too slow

A song I love, whose lyrics I would hope to never be true, now rings clearly and insistent as a clock in the market square chiming twelve noon. I'm not sure that I can ever listen to it again.

Moments of Heaven

This has been the most beautiful season I can remember; no other autumn comes close. We had more sun than we've any right to in the month of October, and November is always the month in which to pay. The beauty has rendered me speechless. My brain is too busy trying to fit all that my eyes funnel in, and the visual never even gets translated into words.

Lately I've been mindful of my daily moments of heaven. Usually once a day (more often on weekends) a few things come together and result in a delicious, fleeting bliss. Today's moment of heaven happened as I drove home from work. It was warm out, so I had the car windows down, and as I waited for the highway meter a New Order song began, and as I accelerated with one arm out the window, singing, the rushing air traveled all the way up the sleeve of my trenchcoat. At the first breezy tickle, I knew: windows down, the full fall air, the song, the singing. The elements come together, and recognizing the confluence is the cherry on top.

Inevitably, the parts that make the whole begin to peel away, and the sublime is lost. But having that moment, appreciating it in its presence, and diligently awaiting the next one-- the present is suddenly more in the present, a sensation entirely new to me.

The weight of time

This morning was so many days ago that I can't keep count. I'm aging in syncopated rhythm, the heartbeat of an insomniac racehorse five years past its prime.