CAN'T THINK OF A TITLE... BRAINDEAD

Well, the wedding went off fairly well. I hit some klinkers but don't know if anyone noticed or not.

I have been negligent. Seduced by the quick status updates and easy friend-tracking of Facebook. But it's hard to put the story of my life on Facebook. I need to post here.

For instance, I didn't post a report of my 2010 SavageMan Triathlon. Unlike last year's race, which I breezed through having a blast, this year I found it grueling and life-changing. Yes, actually life-changing. I need to write about that.

I am thinking about a second Appalachian Trail thru-hike attempt. In 2012, to celebrate being 60. Yes, in 2012 I will be 60. Actually I'll turn 60 in December of 2011 but I'll be 60 when I do my hike.

To keep from re-hiking already-covered miles, I may very well start in Maine and go south. That way if the Trail beats me again at least I will have seen a different part of it.

I've been following the absolutely riveting story of a southbound thru-hiker, on Trail Journals. His trail name is Churchill, and he writes like..... well, like a dreamer who's a realist, or a realist who's a dreamer, or both. You can find his ongoing story at My American Dream at Trail Journals. He's like a book I can't put down. He started in Maine in July and is now going through the Shenandoah/Blue Ridge region of Virginia. I remember so well being there. Yesterday he described standing on a cliff taking in the view and daydreaming...... I'll bet I know exactly where he was standing. He daydreamed about hang-gliding, but it also involved an imaginary hiking partner in the person of John Denver, and ended sadly, with a twist. This guy is an incredible writer. He's gotta get his journal published. It's something rare.

If anyone read my blog last year while I was hiking, you know that weight loss was one of the things that put me off the Trail. Well, by New Year's, I had gained it all back, plus more. This spring and summer, I've lost over half of it, training for SavageMan AND just changing my eating habits. I don't go hungry. Sometimes I still get cravings and graze or binge. But mostly..... I eat to nourish myself. It works.

THE WEDDING PLAYER

How did I get into this?

I seem to be the pianist for a wedding. It's happening tomorrow (yes, a Tuesday.) When I agreed to this a month ago, I hadn't played the piano since my mother and I made that tape of cello/piano music almost 2 years ago. But here it is. In front of a whole lot of people.

I have stage fright. Performance anxiety. I looked for tips on the Internet.

The best one is: "Offer yourself as the medium through which the composer's spirit and intention will flow."

In other words... forget about myself. It's not about me. It's about this beautiful young couple and God's grace flowing through and around them as their beautiful celebration unfolds.

I'm praying. I'm practicing. I'm visualizing. But I'm still going to take some Xanax before I go.

Re: Westernport Wall

Hah!! I went down to Westernport today and attacked The Wall  over and over.

 

I made it 6 out of 9 times. The other 3 times, I fell. The first attempt, while I was fresh, I made it consecutively up all 4 blocks (each block a hill.... it's one 4-block-long hill, average grade 25%,  interrupted only by the cross-streets.) You have to do all 4 w/o unclipping on race day to get a brick laid in the road.

 

After that, I just did the last section (31% grade), or the last 2, over and over, memorizing how to navigate the obstacle course of potholes and cracks (mostly 4-6 inches wide, several feet long, and at least an inch deep). I also developed a Plan B route up, in case there's someone in front of me on race day. I've determined that it's not so much an issue of strength as of balance and controlling the bike. There's a certain point before which I must not veer left; after that point, a slight left shift is helpful (Plan A) but not essential (Plan B.) I'll tell you what, I popped a few wheelies and wondered how I was still upright even though the bike seemed to have stopped moving forward, but 6 out of 9 isn't bad. At the top of one of the successful ones, I wondered, "Is my rear brake rubbing my wheel? Did itget knocked off center in that last fall? Feels like it was harder this time..." and then discovered I hadn't even been in my freakin' lowest granny gear!!!! Shoot, now I'll have to practice doing it like that >:-<

 

The tenth one.... well.... I started one last trip from the bottom of the 4 blocks and rode 3 of them, but then said, "Nahhhhhh......" and turned left instead of going up. I couldn't face it again and could tell I probably wouldn't make it. I was very, very tired.

 

There was a neighborhood boy about 12 on a mountain bike who tried it but didn't make it. He said sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't. That particular time, I made it, and he gave me a thumbs-up and said "That's a hell of a climb." He also rode down it, which I absolutely will not try.

 

One injury per fall: right elbow bleeding in 2 separate places (from 2 of the falls) and right hip with a swelling, obvious broken capillaries, and a great big bruise on its way (I fell to the right each time).

 

I plan to go do this once a week until I know that street like the back of my hand and riding it is no big deal.

SavageMan Bike Course, Take One

Find out about SavageMan here.

 

Sado-Masochistic, is what it is. 

 

My son Jon and I took it very slow for his first riding of it and my first this year, and I declare, I think that's at least as hard as pushing a little harder because you're out there longer.

 

We both made the Wall. Except I cheated.... stopped after the first 3 preliminary hills to get my breath before I tackled it. Jon rode straight up all 4. 

 

I bonked halfway up Maynardier Ridge (the last of the nasty hills, about mile 44) and had to sit and rest a little before continuing. It's the first time ever that I haven't made it up that hill. I was surprised because I'd just gone up all the other hills ,including "Killer Miller" Hill , without any distress. I took a couple salt tablets (cheapies from the drugstore) and a breather and then walked the rest of the hill. Jon gave me a Hammer Gel. (I'd been using a concoction of peanut butter and honey.) A few miles later I still was feeling bad, hamstrings and calves were trying to tie square knots, and Jon gave me an Endurolyte. He was carrying freebies from the Gran Fondo. I was just stupid, is all, and didn't plan right. I know better.

 

Or else I'm just getting too old for this.

 

About 15 min after the gel and lyte tab, I felt better, and by the last 5 miles I felt  normal. When we got back to the cars, Jon put on running shoes and ran for 10 min, while I drank recovery drink, guarded his bike, and waited to see what I'd come back as in my next life. Guess I'll have to wait for another day to find that out, though.

 

I feel OK now. But I'm done w/ homebrew gels and drugstore salt tablets. Put out the money, honey, and put the hammer down.

 

5 hours for the 56 miles = 11.1mph. Bleah. I need 12mph to make the cutoff, which I did handily last year by 10 minutes. 

 

There are still 2 months left.

OH, FOR PETE'S SAKE....

Just a quick review, my husband and I are living with my mother because I/we don't feel it's safe for her to live alone anymore (89 yo, has trouble getting around due to arthritis, osteoporosis, and shortness of breath.)

Found out today during a routine doctor visit that she's been having episodes of chest pain for quite some time but hasn't mentioned it because she doesn't want to be a "fussbudget."

At first I was angry; how could she not tell her daughter, an R.N. who lives with her to look after her and her health, that she gets chest pain???

But after awhile I started realizing it wasn't deliberate, it was just ignorance and an odd form of being considerate. I shouldn't be angry.

PRACTICING THE PRESENCE OF GOD

I have such a short attention span. And so much going on in my life. It's hard to remember that God is a part of it all. Hours or half a day go by when I forget all about Him.

Brother Lawrence says that will happen, when a person first sets out to form the habit of continual communion with God. And he pretty much advises, "Just press the 'reset' button. You will get the hang of it."

Of course, since The Practice of the Presence of God was written over 300 years ago, those aren't the exact words. But that's the jist.

When I first opened the book a couple weeks ago, I opened to this sentence:

"That our sanctification did not depend upon changing our works, but in doing for God's sake that which we commonly do for our own."

And right there, my life was changed.

He is in my swimming, biking, and running, as much as my son is when we arrange to train together. I forgot to ask the Lord to swim (40 minutes) and run (20 minutes) with me today. I choose to believe He was with me anyway, inviting Himself as a silent partner..... as silent as I was. My thoughts were elsewhere but He knows I would have asked Him if I had remembered. He's not bound by human-type "I wasn't invited" huffiness. He knows you meant to ask Him.

Until I get in the habit, I'm thinking I might set my watch to beep every hour I'm awake. Just to remember to check in.

You can download the book, read it, and/or print it out for free here.

SUN'S OUT....

....after I just finished 24 miles on the bike in the rain. I set out hoping to beat it, but got rained on anyway, just enough to keep me cool and make me a little cautious of curves, descents, and my brakes. Heard a little thunder, had one lightning flash a mile away, but didn't get struck or have to take refuge in a house (which I did once last year and made new friends.)

Anyway.... if I'd waited a few hours, I could have done it in clear weather.

But now I've had recent practice riding in the rain.

24 miles included 4 of the major hills of the SavageMan course: McAndrews Hill, Otto Lane, "Killer Miller," and Maynardier Ridge. Plus another long climb (Twin Churches Road) to get to McAndrews Hill.

I am so blessed to live practically on the bike course. Just a couple-mile ride gets me to either of 2 of the dreaded climbs. I'm getting so I don't even need to go into my lowest granny gear much of the time, which makes me very happy!

LAZARUS, COAXED FROM THE DEAD

I want to get back to blogging. I have had so many unwritten pages, so many unrecorded chapters, of the story of my life fly away in the wind this summer. I can only hazily remember that I lived them.... I can't ever read about those days or truly relive them, or remember the truths I learned from them And nobody else ever will, either.

I have been so consumed with myself. That's why I haven't been able to share myself.

We just had a wonderful week in a truck-camper at a small lake in Michigan, with our son Jon, his daughters Sarah, 2, and Abbie, 7, and our 11-yo granddaughter Gracie. Gracie and I took time for an overnight trip to Chicago, by train, just the 2 of us. We had never been anywhere alone together except maybe Wal-Mart or Kroger's. It was a special treat.

So were the next couple days at the lake, our family, swimming, playing on the playground, catching minnows in buckets, and visiting or being visited by many family members we rarely get to see.

Kind of crowded in the little truck-camper and even more so riding to and from in the truck itself, but togetherness is what it's all about.

In case you're wondering..... we sold the RV in which we'd lived for the past 5 years. We live only in my mother's house now, keeping her company and making sure she's OK, and have recently gotten the truck-top camper, which sleeps 5 somewhat comfortably. It was our first trip in it. Next month we'll take our grandson.

I had much, very much care of the 3 young ones during this time. Gracie's 11 and needed companionship and alone-time more than she needed care. (Except when she tripped on an escalator in flip flops and mangled her toe; she needed care then.) So I applied myself to caring for the little girls, and making room for downtime for the hardworking men and the almost-woman girl, who loved floating on a raft without little ones tethered to her. During the week I got in one run with Jon (sprained my ankle) and one 20-min lap swim while Jon took all the girls out on a pedal boat. I worked to give each member of the family some of myself all week, and I didn't have that stressed out feeling I get when I whine about there not being enough of me to go around. Just giving myself up to the needs of the others, encouraging them to help themselves and the others when possible, thanking them for doing so, doing it for them if they didn't, speaking gently even when I wanted to raise my voice to get a response..... it went so smoothly because I took along a lifelong friend that I haven't been in close touch with for some time but who was thrilled to go along and help out and spend time with me.... Jesus. What a help he was, how pertinent his suggestions, how soothing his frequent "That's OK, I'll handle it." He's gently pointing out to me places where my words will add to the conversation, and places where it will just muddy the waters. Often I spew in words about some similar experience and start realizing that no one is listening, they've started other conversations.... they don't care what my experience was. If they do, they will ask me. If they don't, I'm off the hook, don't have to worry about how what I said came across.

Talking less doesn't mean I'm withdrawing. I pray it's the beginning of greater fellowship, now that I realize I'm here to appreciate and help them, not to yak about my own passions, roadblocks, burdens fair or unfair, whether other people's opinions are right or wrong...those things shouldn't be important to me. All that matters is saying what God nudges me to say, and he's provided me with some pithy stuff this week.

And with that I'll leave you all wondering till another day.

On this trip I learned major things:

• It's not about me.
• Pray without ceasing.
• All things work together for those who love God.

I can face life again.

THE RESET BUTTON

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance." (Galatians 5:22-23)

~Sigh~

I need to start over from Square One about every hour......

HANGING OVER ME

I'm caught in a time warp.

Now that it's thru-hiker season, I keep thinking, what could I have done to stay on the Trail? Even though, at the time, I had become convinced that I WANTED to come home and do the SavageMan triathlon, and when I did, I was very happy that I had.

It was after the triathlon was over that the sadness kicked in. Training for the tri had filled the void temporarily.

I'm training for the same tri again now (I'll have 6 months of training for it instead of 2 like last year) but it's not filling the void this time. No doubt I'd still be feeling Springer Fever now even if I'd stayed on the Trail and gotten to Katahdin. I'd want the hope-filled start and long step-after-step journey and the climactic finish again. I'd be wanting to pack my pack and do the whole 2,183 miles all over again. I'm sure I would. Even if I'd finished it.

Nothing ever takes the longing away. No one is ever the same. I hear it over and over.

The one thing to the contrary that I do hear, I may have averted: sticking with it far past desire, far past reason, coming to dread each day, loathing it, finishing out of stubbornness, and then never wanting to hike again, never wanting to see a trail again, even for a day. I've heard of that happening.

I'm glad it didn't happen to me. I got out in time.

With the result that I keep thinking about what I could have done to keep hiking, and what I can do to get back out there, and where and when and how.

Better to be left wanting more and planning and waiting for it to be possible, than to have lost the longing.

THINGS CHANGE

My tent is still outside from when I slept in it the other night. I've rested in it, napped in it, but not overnighted again since then. I keep thinking I will, but then I don't.

The weather map shows what looks like thunderstorms moving in after midnight. I was thinking I'd go out now before bed and take my tent down (in the dark) so it won't get wet. But what the heck, it's been wet lots of times. It's been wet for days at a time. The only thing is, I want to keep my down sleeping bag dry.

Then I realized.... if it gets wet, I'll bring it into the house and put it in the dryer.

Things have changed. I am not on the Trail anymore. Yet.

A fellow on an AT hiking email list is going to send me a hammock system to try risk-free: if I don't like it, I can send it back. I can't wait to try it. You stay drier in a hammock under a tarp then in a tent, and all you need to set it up is two trees -- you never have to worry about level ground or being in a low place or rocks or roots because you're above all that. I can't wait to test it out!

Then hoping to head back to the WV/MD state line on the Trail, maybe mid-May, and hike for a week or so, through Maryland and hopefully into PA to the half-way mark. My husband will stay with my mother for that long. I have got to get hiking to get well.... I'm down with "Springer Fever." Except today it was "Neels Gap Fever" -- a year ago today I'd made it to Neels Gap, the first significant landmark, 31 miles from Springer Mountain, that's some kind of Mecca for beginning hikers: "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to get..." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to find out if there's any...." "When I get to Neels Gap I'm going to weed out a lot of junk...." Neels Gap was on everyone's mind. I felt such accomplishment when I made it.

Well, another year.... another time. In the meantime, I'll go for week-long jaunts and make slow progress up the trail. Trail Fever aka Springer Fever (also regret) is consuming me. I gotta get out there and hike a little.

ANNIVERSARY COMMEMORATION

April 1st was my Appalachian Trail start date last year. I'm remembering it by sleeping out in my tent in the woods behind the house. If I'd thought of it sooner, I'd have gone on a hike nearby and camped out there. But then I'd have missed coloring Easter eggs with our 2 youngest granddaughters, which was a blast, especially since they used raw eggs :-) Anyway, great evening with them and our son, and now I'm going to sleep outside.

How things change from the way we imagined they would be. I really thought I'd finish on Mt. Katahdin in Maine about October 1st. Well, some other year. Or some other decade.

ELLIE'S HEALTH-CARE REFORM PLAN

It seems to me that the new health-care reform measures don't do much of anything to investigate causative factors of the exhorbitant costs of care, or to lower those costs -- only "how to get (or enable, or force) us to pay it" has been addressed. I think they're barking up the wrong tree.

Here's my plan:

FIRST: REFORM PHARMACEUTICAL ADVERTISING.

Outlaw public advertising of prescription drugs. Those TV commercials ("Ask your doctor if this drug is right for you!") and two-page magazine spreads are presented to encourage use of prescription drugs and increase sales. The commercial spots are expensive to the companies, and we pay for it in higher drug costs. Another less-obvious but expensive form of drug advertising is aimed directly at physicians in the form of visitation and gifting by pharmaceutical representatives ("drug reps.") Company employees book appointments with physicians and give them a presentation about a specific drug (information? or propaganda? Since the info is supplied by the drug's manufacturer?) AND buy lunch or dinner for the entire office staff as a magnanimous gesture. They keep track of how many prescriptions for X the doctor writes, and they'll ask him next visit, "Why are you not prescribing X more often?" They bring cakes, cookies, and donuts, and free gifts of clocks, insulated coffee mugs, and exam-table paper printed with the names of their drugs, just as a few examples. On a large scale, I can't imagine how much all this must cost. In the rural physician's office where I worked, we could count on lunch from a drug rep once or twice a week. They'd call in the morning and ask what restaurant we wanted, and the office manager or receptionist would call the restaurant with our orders, and at lunch the rep would bring it in take-out boxes. My daughter in a large city has a friend who's an office nurse and says they have lunch provided EVERY SINGLE DAY from drug reps.

All of this should stop. No more TV and public-magazine advertising (medical journals are a different situation) and drug reps should not be allowed to give doctors anything but ink pens. Drugs have to carry a hefty price tag for the manufacturers to turn a profit after all this advertising and bribing.

SECOND: REFORM MEDICAL LITIGATION.

Outlaw class-action lawsuits, which often reimburse individuals who never suffered any ill effects of a drug or treatment and never filed suit. Outlaw prescription-specific litigation advertising: "Have you or a loved one been injured by Yaz? Levaquin? Crestor? Etc.? Etc.? Call our law firm NOW!" Success or settlement of these cases increases the price of drugs yet again.

Outlaw commercial advertising by medical-injury litigators. "Have you been injured, sickened, or killed by a medical mistake? Does your child have a birth defect? Have you started sneezing? Call our firm and GET MONEY." Physicians, hospitals, nursing homes, and other care practices, out of necessity charge the consumer more in order to cover their liability insurance. The only place litigation attorneys should be able to advertise is the newspaper and the Yellow Pages. Medical litigation is a feeding frenzy.

Consumers should, indeed, be able to bring suit for legitimate damages. But put an end to frivolous lawsuits: if the litigant loses, they pay EVERYONE'S court costs, including the attorney for the defendant, all of the court staff, lost wages of anyone testifying... every single cost incurred by anyone involved in that case.

Set a cap on the amount of damages that can be awarded, keeping it relevant to the actual cost of the injury, subsequent required care, lost wages and reduced quality of life.

These measures could go a long way in reducing the cost of health care, prescription medications, and medical insurance.

MAPLE RUN 8K RACE

I went to this race yesterday, part of the Pennsylvania Maple Festival in Meyersdale, PA.

5-mile run; I've been doing casual runs of anything from a half hour to an hour, not pushing hard at all, just doing time. I expected to have fun and probably break an hour; or, if it was a really good day, maybe make it in 50 minutes.

My time:
44:44

Early on a man about my age started running with me, and we started talking, and he was going just a little faster than I was comfortable maintaining, but I was having fun talking with him. We talked just about the whole time. Now and then I'd say, "I have to quit talking, I can't keep up this pace and talk, too," and he'd say, "Well, your pace is just about perfect for me," and then he'd say something and I'd answer and we'd be talking again. My shoe came untied and he actually waited while I tied it because he wanted to stay with me! So I have him to thank for my unexpected performance!

I thought I might be good for an age-group second, if I was lucky. But I was FIRST in my age group (women 55-59) -- first out of two.

But here's the thing. After the awards I went to the results board and looked at the times, and THAT's when I got mindblown.

I would have won in the next three age groups under mine, also.

Women's 50-54 winner ran 45:32. Women's 45-49, 48:29. Women's 40-44, 45:38. No runners 35-39, and the 30-34 first-place woman was ahead of me, but the second-place runner in that group was not.

Besides myself, there were a total of 13 women from 40-59. Holy cow.... I'm out there running faster than that many younger women???? How did I do that? I've hardly been training! I haven't run 5 miles in over a month!

So I got a shiny piece of bling and a definite mental high. I was feeling great when I got home so I went out and biked for an hour, taking advantage of weather we shouldn't be having until May, even though there are still snow drifts dotting the now-mostly-bare fields and roadsides.

What a wonderful day!

"MOUNTAIN TALK

I just watched a program, "Mountain Talk," on the Documentary Channel, about the speech mannerisms and unique vocabulary of the rural residents of southern Appalachia.

It made me so homesick.

An old woman stated that when she was growing up, the nearest town was Robbinsville, but she never went there until cars came into the area.

The reason I know that "Robbinsville" has two "b's" is that I've been there. It was one of my rest-and-resupply stops on the Appalachian Trail.

Breathtaking mountain views kept appearing, with swirling mist in the valleys. The kind I saw just about every day.

I could cry for those days and those miles.

In a way, it feels as though triathlon is sort of meaningless. I mean, what's the point? Swim a prescribed distance, hop soaking wet onto a bike and pedal a prescribed distance, change your shoes and run (or walk, or crawl, or whatever) a prescribed distance. Why?

I guess.... to see if I can. Or to see if I can do it again, or do it longer, or farther, or stronger.

I guess for the same reasons I want to go back to the Trail.

OTHER PEOPLE'S SUNDAY

The Census Bureau wants us to hurry up. At first they wanted the local counts in by March 22, which meant we actually had to finish by March 20 to get it in. Then they wanted it by the 20th, so that gave us till the 18th. Now they want it Tuesday, which means it needed to be finished today. On Friday they asked for all hands on deck, with all employees working all day both Saturday and Sunday.

I said no.

It's not that I refuse to do work on Sunday, or believe people shouldn't. I often have. I was a nurse. Hospitals don't close on Sunday, people don't take a day off from being sick. I worked. When I have worked in stores or gyms, if I was scheduled for Sunday, I worked. It gave someone else the day off, and usually it equalled out. And it's not as if all I'll do on Sunday is go to church and then spend the rest of the day reading the Bible. I go running on Sundays, and I'll run a marathon or do a triathlon on Sunday, thanking police officers and race volunteers for their help. I'll go to the store on Sunday, thankful others are working so I can get groceries I couldn't get during the week while I was working -- in fact, I went shopping after church today.

This is something totally different, though.

American citizens are Constitutionally assured the freedom to practice religion (or not) without government interference or restriction. Sunday is traditionally a religious holiday for Christians, and this is a heavily-Christian area of Maryland. Example: classified ads in the local newspaper are replete with the statement "No Sunday sales" whether the advertiser is selling a used car, homemade quilts, clothing alterations, or pit bull puppies. I felt sick in the gut at the idea of knocking on their doors with government business, interrupting the sanctuary of their day of rest and worship as if it were just like any other day. My own religious freedom is violated if I am required to intrude on that of others. I believe it is ethically objectionable for the government to make this intrusion or require its workers to make it.

I said no. I told them why. They gave my assignment to someone else. She came and picked up my paperwork and I told her how to get to the area and off she went.

I'm not fired. My supervisor said I was not the only one not accepting a Sunday assignment. I may be working tomorrow, if everything didn't get done today. And I'm still eligible for re-hire for the next round of operations.

Thankfully, our freedom (so far, anyway) does not allow termination of employment for religious belief, or for consideration of others' religious practices.

IT MADE THE PAPER!!

I sent my photo of our son's snowed-in swingset to our local paper, The Republican (can you guess the political leanings of most of the people here?) and they published it as illustrative of the extreme conditions our area has experienced this winter. It's the first time I've ever had a photo published in a newspaper. The caption described "...a shot of the backyard of Jon Hamilton....Taken by his mom, Ellie, the photo has in the foreground the tiptop of his children's swing set, which is approximately seven feet tall."

Does that count as a byline?

HIKING THE CENSUS TRAIL

Did I mention that I have a temporary job canvassing homes as a Census Enumerator? They used to call it "Census Taker." I guess "Enumerator" sounds more official. I think it sounds like an Arnold Schwarzenegger role: "I AM THE ENUMERATOR!!!!!"

If the outer reaches of Garrett County, MD were not still under snow, checking off the address list would be so much easier. The area I had today.... well, some of the houses were plowed out. Some of the roads were passable. Some addresses I could reach by driving around the long way and accessing them from the other end of the road. Some I could see from the road but what I could not see was a driveway or anything resembling one.

The reason they were not plowed out was, these are mostly vacation homes in an upscale resort community. No one lives there. But they have addresses so they have to get a Census questionnaire.

Actually a few people live there. I actually contacted a person at a couple of places. Mostly I left questionnaires in plastic bags on doorknobs, after hiking up what might have been their driveway, or just through the woods, in knee-to-thigh-deep snow.

The Census Bureau had better be grateful. They can't be, though, because they won't know. The people who made the maps don't know that road signs have disappeared, as have the roads they identified. Whoever did the initial canvassing to ascertain addresses, last year, didn't do it through 2 feet of snow. Yes, that's what we still have. I used our GPS a lot. I hiked a lot.

If someone had to go out there, it should have been someone with a lot of endurance, someone strong, maybe some kind of athlete, a marathon-runner or backpacker or something, because they would have had to hike the Appalachian Trail to be ready for this. Oh, wait, that's me.

And because it was so like hiking (although on the Trail, I only had to deal with about 3 inches of snow) it was actually pretty enjoyable. Figuring out the best route through the woods to the house, post-holing through, knee-deep one step, then the next step hitting a low place and sinking to my hip; falling, grabbing branches for balance and leverage -- it was right down my alley. The funny thing was, along with my hiking boots, wool knee socks, and waterproof hiking pants, I was wearing a sleevless top and light sweater because it was 60*F, and charging through the snow like that got me all sweated up. But my boots have lost their waterproofing, and my feet got soaked. I was driving with my windows open and the heater going full-blast on the floor.

For my lunch break I drove back out to the community entrance where there was a parking lot in front of a closed office building, poured water out of my boots and wrung out my socks. Water streamed from them. Then I ran the heater full-blast from everywhere -- put my socks over the defroster to dry out a little and warm up, my boots (filled with paper napkins) on the floor and propped my cold feet up in front of the dash vents, with all the windows open because it was so hot in the car. I ate cheese and Rice Krispies Bars and drank water from a Powerade bottle. It truly felt like a Trail lunch, complete with sock-airing. When I was done for the day, I poured water out of my boots and wrung out my socks again, and then wrung them out again when I got home, because they had gotten so wet again just from being in my boots.

As on the Trail, there is no way my boots will dry overnight. They're beside a heater vent, but the weather is now unseasonably warm, and the furnace will probably not come on during the night.

Well, I have been homesick for hiking. And I get paid for this.

But it's sorta nuts.

THE SNOWIEST WINTER EVER

Garrett County, MD is known for getting the most annual snowfall of any area in the state -- about 116 inches. But this is ridiculous. In the course of three storms since February 5, with no thaws in between, we're close to 250" now for the season.

We got the first storm three weeks ago on a Friday, followed by a second one on Tuesday. After the first storm, the snow was up to my hips (I'm about 5'1".) The second brought it up to my waist. Then we got just dribbling stuff, a couple or 3 inches every day or two, until our total on-the-ground measurement was 53 inches as of last weekend.

Our F250 truck after the second storm.

Digging out the car.

We dug out the truck just a couple days ago. We did not shovel INTO the truck bed; this is how it fell from the sky.

Then, this Thursday and Friday, the day after we shoveled out the truck, we got a third storm. Various sites and sources are waying it was 21 inches. It's hard to tell, since it was accompanied by high winds that blew it into amazing drifts.

I'm not sure what's actual snowfall and what's drift, but this is our son's backyard: in the background, his smokehouse; in the foreground, his daughters' swingset. It's a normal-size swingset.

Here's a zoomed-in shot of the swingset, taken from his back deck.

How do you like them apples???

A CHEERFUL GIVER

As so often happens, on a Sunday when I've been thinking, "I should go to church but I don't feel like it," and then I break down and go, it turns out that had I decided to stay home I'd have really missed something.

Today it was Chapter 9 of II Corinthians, which contains the familiar verse, "God loveth a cheerful giver."

I haven't been.

In the context of the sermon, it was mostly about material gifts, but I started thinking midstream, this isn't about my money or my hand-me-downs, it's about me.

I have not given cheerfully of myself. Not for a long time. I've given grudgingly, often with expectation of fair play. I'll do X for you if you'll do Y for me. Or, correspondingly, I won't do X for you if you don't do Y for me. As well as, since you don't do Y for me, I won't do X for you. Maybe if I stop doing X for you you'll learn you should be doing Y for me.

Doing X in expectation of Y isn't being a cheerful giver. Jesus didn't say, "I'll die for you IF you...." He just did it.

Unconditional giving. I hope I'm up to it.

Snowflake Chase 5-miler 2010

Well. You didn't know I was working up to a race, did you? Neither did I. At least, not until the Pittsburgh Marathon, which is May 2.

Anyway, I decided, what the heck, there's this Snowflake Chase 5-miler, less than half-an-hour away, why not go see? Other than SavageMan, it's the first race I've run since the Austin Marathon in 2008. Based on my current lolly-gagging workout times, I thought I might pull off a sub-55 at Snowflake.

Son of a gun. My time was 47:00. I had to bust ass to get it, but it predicts a 4:36:55 marathon finish. Now, if were to lose 10 pounds, it could take 20 minutes off my marathon time, right? I think that's the formula, 2 minutes per pound of weight loss. Or maybe it's 2 seconds per minute per pound. Ten pounds, 20 seconds, would turn 10-minute miles to 9:40 miles, which again, would do it if everything else goes absolutely perfectly.

Suddenly a Boston Qualifier of 4:15 doesn't seem so impossible. Except, I worked so hard today for just 5 miles..... keeping that up for 21.2 more miles seems.... well .... impossible.

Average pace was 9:43, which is EXACTLY what I need at Pittsburgh.

I wasn't sure where I'd stack up in the age groups today. From 25-29 on, the AG winners' times being called out were 5-10 minutes longer than mine. But when the RD started with the 55-59 women, suddenly the times dropped like rocks and I placed third (out of probably three.) Nevertheless, I was only a couple minutes behind the AG winner. I have noted, since starting running a quarter-century ago, that my AG has some FAST WOMEN.

Well, on to marathon planning, and working on the 10 pounds. As I've described, I haven't been doing all that well at Weight Watchers. It only works if you work it. Imagine that.

TREADMILL

My mother has a treadmill which she actually walks on sometimes. At 88 she doesn't go outdoors if there's snow on the ground, so she got this treadmill a couple years ago and has spells of walking on it at 1mph for 5 or so minutes twice a day.

It's snowed here nearly every day for the last two weeks and been bone-chilling cold. I got in an 11-mile run last Wednesday when we visited our daughters in Columbus, OH. It was cold but the roads were clear.

The last 2 days, I've done an hour a day on the elliptical while I was working at the gym. Today I was off, so I just did an hour on Mom's treadmill.

It's set on a little incline, which made it hard to keep up even 12-minute miles. You can change the incline but you have to take off these little support legs and reposition them. Too much trouble, when the small incline can only make me stronger. I took walk breaks of about a minute every 5 minutes, since it was too soon after dinner, which felt like it was in my throat rather than my stomach.

Still kind of a bummer to run for an hour and see only 4.3 miles when I've got this delusion I can run a 4:15 at the Pittsburgh Marathon, May 2, and qualify for Boston. Yeah, I'm on this qualify-for-Boston jag again. It's not gonna happen unless I get my weight down around 115. And that's not gonna happen if I keep eating like I have been.

MORE ON FOOD AND EATING

First off, I'm just plain addicted to eating. It doesn't even have to be anything I like. My husband bought butterscotch-ripple ice cream b/c he knows I don't like butterscotch. I ate it anyway. (Butterscotch is one of maybe 5 tastes I really do not like. Others are: okra, hard-cooked egg yolks, liver, wasabi.)

I don't have to be hungry either. I can be not-hungry and still eat something I don't even like just to be eating.

My mother, whom I dearly love, used to make me eat things I didn't like so that maybe I'd "learn" to like it. Mostly, I did, with the result that I now eat anything that's not nailed down, whether I like it or not.

While I was hiking, I couldn't eat enough. I was ALWAYS hungry and trying to eat ENOUGH and still lost 20 pounds. I've read that rebound weight-gain is a common problem for long-distance hikers. I thought I could keep it from happening to me :-(

I'm watching "Biggest Loser" as I write this. Maybe I'm petty to quibble about 10 or 12 pounds. But I hate the way I look in mirrors, of which there are plenty at the gym where I work and in my mother's house. They're a constant reminder, but they don't keep me from eating myself silly.

WHAT WORKS FOR YOU?

To control your weight, or lose if that's your intention?

Low-fat? Low-cal? Low-carb? Weight Watchers? Weigh Down? Do-it-yourself?

I'm currently going to Weight Watchers but it emphasizes low-fat/low cal and I don't really believe in that. I believe more in fat-burning via limiting carbohydrates, and/or in eat-when-hungry, don't-eat-if-not-hungry, stop-when-full.

Except I can't stick with any of those for more than half a day. Actually I can't stick with WW for more than that long either.

I WANT FOOD!!!! I want lots of food, even though in a global sense I consider it vaguely obscene to have to plan and follow programs (even pay for them) to lose weight when in so many places it's impossible to get enough to eat to achieve a normal weight.

But we live where we live, including in the body we live in.

It's hard to believe that just a few months ago I was too thin.

Not anymore. I ate my way right back to the size I was when I started hiking last April 1. I would have been OK with putting back 10 pounds, but not all 20 plus a couple more. I have moments (heck, out with it, call it days, weeks) of self-hate and self-disgust because I can't reign in my desire for food.

Unlimited salad and leafy greens don't cut it. Weight Watchers calls anything that's mostly water a "Filling Food" and says eat them liberally, they'll keep you full longer. Like fruits and vegetables and lean protein and skim milk. Fat-free milk is called a "Filling Food" whereas milk with any fat content is not. Tuna packed in water is "filling," while tuna packed in oil is not.

I guess anything works if you work it. Which I mostly don't. For more than half a day.

OVERWHELMED AT NEW YEAR'S

So at the annual turning of the year, you're supposed to make a resolution that's going to change your life. Or several resolutions.



I better take this to my other blog, "Ellie's List of Lists."



One thing I do want:

I just turned 58, three days before Christmas. I would like to enter my 60's, two years from now, in the best physical, mental, and spiritual shape I've ever been in.



Or at least the best physical shape.



I still want to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail. That will probably have to wait until my mother is no longer physically with us. She thinks she can live alone, but I think differently. I didn't realize how disabled she is, until I started living with her. She can't live alone. I can't leave for more than a few days. AT is off for an indefinite period of time.



But granddaughter Abbie, who will be 7 at the end of this month, sounded very excited last night when I suggested she and I take some hikes with backpacks and stay all night in tents. I said hike for the afternoon, make camp, fix supper, sleep in tents, and hike back the next day, and she said, "No! LOTS!!" She still has trouble saying all that's in her head but I said, "What, more than one night?" And she repeated, "LOTS!! Nother night, and nother night, and nother night!!"



Well, maybe not THAT much -- how much mileage can a smallish-for-age 7-yr-old handle? -- but maybe a couple nights. Abbie would be a fun little backpacking partner.



Her dad, our son, likes it, too. Maybe he and I could do Maryland together on the AT. It should only take 4 or 5 days.



Anyway, I have to take care of myself so that in 5 or 10 years I can thru-hike. I'll be that year's Old Lady of the Mountains.



As for getting my life into some form of predictabiliby, purpose, and plan..... guess I'll go over to Ellie's List of Lists.

CHESTNUTS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE

OK, is this activity a fond, familiar part of everyone's Christmas memories?

How many of you actually roast chestnuts as part of your holiday celebration?

Has anyone EVER done it? In the last hundred years, anyway?

WORD PUZZLE

This question was posed by "Freebird" one evening on the Appalachian Trail, as a bunch of us sat cooking, rinsing clothes, eating, sorting gear, and whatever else we did in the evenings.

Name 10 parts of the human body that have only three letters. Authentic words, that a doctor would use: in other words, "tit" and "ass" don't count. Nor does the one contributed last night by my 88-year-old mother, "nut."

OK, gang, have at it.

SURPRISE

Heh, I'm posting on my blog.... that should surprise whatever former readers of mine must have surely written me off by now.

Catching up:

That "inspirational talk" went well, I guess. I enjoyed it myself, anyway. I didn't plan a bit of it, except to take my backpack. I just told about my trip, off the top of my head. My audience seemed to like it .... they seemed to be paying attention, laughed when I said something funny, said "Ooh" when I described something that had been difficult, were impressed when I showed how I just swing my backpack up over my shoulders. Afterwards, they gave me a big golf umbrella, since a couple of them had been reading my trail blog and liked the story about getting caught in a rainstorm and then changing my clothes in a shelter full of men.

What else, since I've updated on anything at all in my life?

Well.... Steve and I have moved in with my mother. No longer RV-ing full-time, for now. I don't feel comfortable anymore with her living by herself. Also, staying here, we are handy to help our son Jon with the care of his daughters. It feels strange to be living in a house. We have our own "apartment" -- a bedroom, a small room we've made into a living room, and a full bath. We share the kitchen, usually eat dinner as a family, the three of us.

I lost 20 pounds in my three months of hiking the Appalachian Trail, and I've gained it all back. It was inevitable.... in real life how could I keep off the results of hiking 15 miles over mountains day after day carrying a 30-pound pack? Even training for SavageMan I gained.

I'm a lifetime member of Weight Watchers, and last week I started going to meetings again. Cutting back on my food has been a shock. I've managed to pull it off about 3 days out of the 7. I don't think I'll have any loss to show at tomorrow's weigh-in. Next week I'll try for 4 days. I just don't have what it takes to suddenly start eating 18 "Points" worth of food a day when I've been piling it in. Yeah, 18. Based on my height, age, gender, and overall activity level (this means all day, not just a workout), that's my base. Now, this is the equivalent of maybe 1200 calories and I'll tell you what, that's not enough for me, small though I am. Well, everyone has 35 optional "Flex" points per week that can be eaten or not, wherever and whenever. I've tried using these to up my daily allotment to 20, then 22. Still not able to stick to it day after day. We also get extra points for exercise, and I use those to the max. But I'll tell you what, I'm still hungry. I'm thinking, we're all different, which is worked in by allowing for age, height, gender, activity level, etc., but I may simply need more food than someone else of my same age, height, gender, and activity level. So I'm going to bump it up to 25 points a day, which comes out to roughly 1500 calories, and see what happens.

That's enough for one post. Thanks for reading!

SAVAGEMAN PICS

They only have pics of me on the bike, but they're nice!

Note especially #5 (the other person in the photo is a guy walking his bike up Killer Miller Hill) and #12 (the guy falling in front of me on the Wall.) Just so's you know I told the truth! :-)

Too bad I've gained back 2/3 of the weight I lost on the Appalachian Trail.... it shows in the photos :-( Time for the yo-yo to go back down.

INSPIRATION? MOTIVATION?

People keep telling me, reading my blog posts, and sometimes my Facebook page, that I'm such an inspiration.

I have even been invited.... this blows my mind and scares me to death.... to give a talk to the annual meeting of the Department of Natural Resources State Secretaries' meeting next week. A motivational talk. About what has interested, or inspired, or motivated, or compelled, me to do the "amazing things I've done."

???????

What, indeed? I guess, since so many people have said they find my aspirations and accomplishments inspiring..... they must be.

So what has inspired me? Or interested, or motivated, or compelled me, to undertake and usually achieve the things people seem to be finding so inspiring?

Well..... because they're there. To see if I can do it. To see if I can do it again. To see if I can do it better, or stronger, or without feeling so awful during or after. To see if there's a better way to do it. Better than I've done it before, or better than I've heard or read of it being done. Better meaning, without the difficulties someone else had. Or, maybe with the same difficulties, but knowing about them ahead of time and being prepared to deal with them.

Sigh...... I don't know what to say in this talk. I kind of feel like all I've done is what the Nike slogan says: Just do it.

I like what Yoda says, too: "Do, or do not; there is no try."

I can't see myself standing there at the annual meeting of a statewide group saying, "Look at me, I've done all these things, am I inspiring or what?"

Good grief. Help.

SAVAGEMAN AT LAST!!!

After four years of wanting to do this race!! I've wanted to do it before it WAS a race -- when Kyle Yost staged a trial run to see if it was feasible. That year, it was too close to IM Florida. The next year (the inaugural year) we were away. Last year, I registered, started training, then got that damned Achilles tear. This year...... I'm FINALLY a SAVAGEMAN!!!

This is by far the best-organized and best-supported race I have ever participated in, in 20 years of I can't imagine how many races altogether, but 22 marathons, 3 half-iron triathlons, and 2 full Ironmans. More volunteers than I've ever seen, and they were the most enthusiastic ones I've ever seen, too. The rangers from Deep Creek Lake State Park and the State and County Police officers were outstanding.

Guess what was in the goodie bag instead of a t-shirt? Arm warmers! For the bike ride! Black ones, printed with "Tri-To-Win SavageMan Triathlon." Love 'em! I didn't have any, and was thrilled. (Finishers got a finisher's shirt at the end.)

I have started and deleted 2 race reports over the last hour. I get into it and decide I'm being too wordy, too detailed, got to start over..... maybe I can just do highlights now and write a full report in sections over the next few days.

My race goals were:

• Finish within the cutoff time of 8.5 hours.
• Ride all hills, no walking my bike.
• Ride up the Westernport Wall, earning a brick with my name in it inlaid in the road.

Swim: 46 minutes. This is the official time; my watch said 55, so I don't know what the discrepancy is and I'm not going to investigate! I'll take it. I stepped on a large splinter on my way to the water, had to pull it out; it didn't bother me in the race but it's been sore since.

Transition #1: Slow. I took time to dry off well, take a potty break, and eat half a PB&J sandwich. I put on my arm-warmers but didn't wear the long-sleeved shirts and jackets I saw a lot of other riders sporting.

Bike: Well!! By mile 18, reaching Westernport where The Wall is, my average speed was 18.5mph, compared to my usual 16.5 at that point. I thought, YEE-HAWW! I'm gonna rock this course!! But later..... well, maybe it was the too-fast first 18 miles that made my whole ride almost 40 minutes longer than my most recent training ride of the same course.

Westernport Wall: I took my sweet time up the first three hills, snaking back and forth across the streets to reduce the incline. With only The Wall left, I was relaxed (had thought I'd be shaking with stage fright and adrenaline) and not winded at all from the preceding climbs, and I put the hammer down and tackled it. The sidewalks were lined with spectators 4 deep, yelling and ringing cowbells and blowing horns. They cheered me on: "Come on, push it, come on, push it honey, you got it, you got it, lookit 'er go, you got it, you got it, AAWWWWWwwwwwww ......" I had veered just slightly to the left and might have recovered and gone straight after all had a guy not just that moment fallen right there. There was no way I could go around him. I had just enough of a split second to unclip and dismount to avoid hitting him. I had made it about 3/4 of the way up.

You only get one try at the Wall. If you don't make it, you pick up your bike and walk up the grass on the side of the street. Which I did. After all my hype about the Wall and a brick with my name engraved in it, I didn't even feel disappointed. I tried it, I gave it my all, I had bad luck, oh well, let's get this bike up the hill, I've got a race to finish. I still don't feel any major disappointment. It's just one of those things I knew could happen, and it did; no big deal. Next time....

After the Wall comes Big Savage Mountain. With no flat or downhill in between. You crest the Wall and keep on climbing. I was off my bike from walking the rest of the Wall and couldn't get clipped in and going. Couldn't get the momentum on one foot to get the other clipped in, and fell, spilling all the sweet tea out of my aero bottle that I'd just refilled, gashing my ankle in a way that almost looks like a "Don't Go There" slash through my Ironman tattoo. I had to walk it the 100 yards or so to the clothing-drop station ahead, where there was a little flat pull-off. (Clothing drop was for the warm duds we'd put on in T-1, when we were wet and facing a 4-mile fast descent on a cool fall morning. We wouldn't need them the rest of the ride.)

The thing I liked best about Big Savage, and the other horrendous hills as well, was riding (repeat, riding) past men half my age who were walking their bikes. Other than having to quit the Wall and then not being able to get started, I did not walk my bike at all. A lot of riders did.

No, wait, that's not totally true. Twice on long hills my chain fell off, not a big deal, easy to fix, but again, on the steep hill I couldn't get going again. Rather than walk up those hills, though, I walked my bike back DOWN so I could get a new start from the bottom. It was my goal to RIDE every hill unless I fell.

Y'know what, folks..... I'm tired. And I have to be at work at the gym tomorrow morning at 7. I'll finish this in another post. Stay tuned!

READY TO ROLL

Preparations for SavageMan are rolling here at Deep Creek Lake State Park -- the inflatable buoys are in place in the lake, there are signs directing and encouraging athletes (a sign on the first stiff hill, just half a mile into the course, says "Let's Get This Party Started!!") All through the campground here, where we've lived since I left the Appalachian Trail, there are campers with cool road and tri bikes on their cars or locked to their picnic tables. I just met Julie, first real-life meeting with this email friend who put the SavageMan bug into my ear 4 years ago.

Four years! The first year, which was an unsupported "trial run" (the "0th Annual SavageMan Triathlon"), I didn't participate because it was too close to IronMan Florida for me to recover fully and continue to train. The next year, the inaugural running, we either left too early or got back too late with whatever work-camping commitment we had; I forget. Last year, the second year, I was registered but then tore my Achilles tendon and was out, although I did do the swim. It was my first-ever DNF in 20+ years of races. (I guess I just had my second DNF in June, by not continuing the Appalachian Trail.)

This year, I'm IN!!! I've stayed uninjured, I've fought off the inevitable taper-week cold with tons of vitamin C, I've stayed calm and collected this last week, and I'm IN!!!

The weather is going to be perfect. Low 54*F (about 57* by the time I get out of the water and onto the bike), high 68*, partly sunny/cloudy, only 10% chance of rain (that's as good as zero.) Not too cold, not too hot, wind from SE at 7mph..... couldn't ASK for better.

I am breaking my "no training the last week" rule and going for a short brick: Bike ride up the first hilly road, where that cute sign is, (Toothpick Road, Garrett County is notorious for its weird road names), do a loop for another short steep hill, then come back and run one loop around the campground. They say don't do anything new the day before a race but I always break the rules. I've never done this before but I need to loosen up.

Then it's on to packet pickup and bike check-in, mandatory athlete safety meeting ("This is a highly technical and dangerous course....") and then relax for the rest of the day.

I don't even have my transition bags packed and you know what, I'm not spazzing. I'll just throw some stuff in some bags and be ready. No obsessive sorting and resorting. I've done enough half and full Ironman races that I know the drill and have a list here.

This was going to be a short post. I guess I'm more excited than I thought!

Pray for me, if you're a praying person. And if you're not, then send good vibes. I want one of those bricks :-)

TWO DAYS OUT

I've cleaned surface dirt off my bike and done a few other get-it-ready things:

• Switch new computer-holder-gizmo to other side of aerobars to make room for aerobottle
• Take off hand-pump holder, since I've lost my hand pump
• Taped down the spring-loaded armrests on my aerobars: I discovered, falling on the Wall, that a smack to the armrest will snap a zip-tie. Luckily that day I had duct tape. I've replaced that with less-conspicuous electrical tape.
• Cleaned out my water bottles and aerobottle tube and stopper (a shower pouf.)

That duct tape... electrical tape....

My bike does not look like the spiffy, pristine tri-bikes a lot of the racers have. My bike serves me as real wheels much of the time. I ride it to work, to my mother's place, to wherever I need to go when I can't use the truck, or when I need training, or when I don't want to use diesel fuel. My bike has been used, not just "ridden." It is a vehicle, not a toy.

My paint has chips and scratches. The bar tape on my aeros is chewed up from a fall and I decided that, since that doesn't impair its function, the marginal cost of replacing it isn't worth it, even though I'd look classier.

I have red reflective tape on parts of the frame for times I've needed to ride at dusk. This is nearly impossible to remove, and also has chips, scratches, and gouges from falls.

It looks like a serviceable road bike that's given a lot of service, because that's what it is .... not a jazzy, snazzy racer bike.

My saddle pack and top-tube food carrier have obviously seen better days. I could have replaced both but decided to keep them and save the $40.

I am not going to look classy, but everything I have works.

My helmet is 4 years old, but it passed inspection. It's got old sticky stuff on it from previous race numbers. It's not one of those pointy outer-space aero helmets, either. Nor is it shiny anymore.

My only pair of bike shorts is in the sink being handwashed, since we don't have a washing machine (live in an RV.)

I'm going to wear my bright blue and orange Ironman Florida jersey.

That, plus my age in plain sight on my calf, should put the fear of God into 'em.

SHOULD HAVE.....

..... been posting about my summer and my SavageMan training and my adjustment to life off the Trail.

But, as I learned on the Trail, "Should have" is a useless thing to say. The fact is, I haven't, and I regret it. My emotions have changed, evolved, and morphed over the summer and I'd have done well to record it. I haven't had the heart for it. I've been holing in on the sofa a lot, reading books (on the Trail I often felt I'd give a lot for a chance to lie on a sofa with a good book); I've been spending totally unproductive time playing FarmTown on Facebook. I've mostly kept up my training but have had a hard time getting or staying interested in anything else. I got a message the other evening from my hiking partner, Jim Dandy. He's not at Katahdin yet but has reached Maine. He was about 230 miles from finishing when I called him and we talked for awhile. It made me want to go back to the Trail as soon as I can manage it. I've been looking at new recipes for dishes that will dehydrate well.

I've been asked by two of my readers for an update, which I find very gratifying and flattering. Folks are wondering about me?

OK, here's the scoop.

SavageMan is coming up on Sunday!!! I'm as ready as I can be... certainly can't get any readier at this point. Well, yes, I can, by eating well and resting well and staying calm.

Calm was a problem until I stopped freaking out about the impossible hill called The Westernport Wall, and started picturing myself pedalling up it "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." I went to a different church on Sunday, last minute decision, and that song was on the agenda, as well as "Love Lifted Me," also very appropos.... lift me right up that hill! The Wall is what it is and my attack on it will be what it will be. I've tried it 8 times now, made it twice.

I've ridden the entire bike course 4 times. The first time is described in my previous post. Ride #2 went differently: no bears except the hills themselves. Tried the Wall 5 times and fell 5 times, gave it up and went on. Decided the climb up Big Savage Mountain was a lot harder than I'd remembered. Didn't think Otto Lane and Maynardier Ridge were all that bad; Killer Miller Hill sucked.

Ride #3: Did not even try the Wall, rode around it. Big Savage still very impressive; Otto Lane not too bad; Maynerdier Ridge joined Killer Miller in "Hills that Suck."

Ride #4: Rode around the Wall again. Stopped at the top, looked down, thought, "From up here it doesn't look all that bad..." Walked down it, started from maybe 50 feet away on a cross street to get a little start, and ground up it. Several times I thought I was a goner and each time was surprised to find myself still upright and the pedals still turning. But I made it. On to Big Savage, which had gotten steeper and longer since my last time; Otto Lane finally joined the "Hills that Suck" list. But I finished the ride in 4 hours and 23 minutes, 7 minutes faster having ridden both around and up the Wall, than the last time when I'd ridden only around it. I'm not going for time, here; just hoping to beat the cutoff so I'll be allowed to run and finish the race. You are required not only to summit the Wall but also to finish the race, to get that brick.

On Sunday, the only way they can keep me off that Wall is to close the street. I am going to attack it. Going around is a valid option, no penalty for it; but, if I don't even ATTEMPT the Wall, I stand NO chance of getting a brick. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

In the Half-Iron-distance race, I am the oldest female registered, the only one in my age group (55-59), and the only female from Garrett County, MD, the host county. I've been through previous years' registration lists, and I'm the oldest female ever to register. Which means I'll also be the oldest female finisher in the race's history. A feather in my cap even if I fall on the Wall!

But I want one of those bricks. My name engraved in a brick for an accomplishment, and that brick inlaid in the city street where I accomplished it. Eventually there will be a stone somewhere with my name engraved on it, but I'd like one for something I did in LIFE.

Three more sleeps. I pray for dreams laced with victory.

THREE BEARS ON A BIKE RIDE

Could be the title of a children's story, but actually this is a training-ride report.

Yup, saw 3 bears on my ride. One mama-cub duo, and one other adult. The mama and cub surprised me, and no doubt they were surprised, too, when I whizzed past where they were taking a drink out of a ditch, just off to the right of the road. The cub wasn't much bigger than a basketball. Mama jerked her head up but I was already past them when I heard her startled "Whuf!" I glanced over my shoulder but she wasn't giving pursuit.

The next one was halfway down a straight hill, so I saw it a hundred yards or so ahead, slowed down just a tad and yelled at it: "Yo, bear! I'm coming! Move, git!!" It did. When I passed the spot, it was nowhere to be seen.

I had planned a 3.5-hour ride, headed to Westernport to check out the Wall, maybe try to ride it, keep going till 1.75 hours, then turn around and ride back home.

I changed plans, though, and kept going on the course instead of doing an out-and-back. Seemed there wasn't much point in re-riding the course backwards when I could keep going forwards and see what more of the course was like. After about 35 miles, I passed a turn-off and kept straight so that I looped back home instead of finishing the course, totalling about 48 miles.

Guess what, I rode up the Wall. It goes up for 3 blocks, with 2 cross-streets, so after each block I rested on the cross-street for a minute or two before tackling the next block. The third block is the worst. The pavement is in terrible condition, with holes and cracks, grass growing up out of the cracks, patched spots that are rough, plus the pitch is 31%. It's been closed to cars for years. My back tire skidded a couple times when I guess I lifted the front wheel up off the road pulling forwards -- gotta watch that. But I made it up. Lowest granny gear, but I made it. Actually, I probably will go a gear or two higher next time: I was standing on the pedals and the low granny was actually a little too low; I think it made me wobble.

I guess those 3 sections could also be called "three bears on a bike ride."

At the top I stopped, got off the bike, took a whiz in the woods, and settled down before continuing up Big Savage Mountain.

The alleged 7-mile, 1,950-foot climb up Big Savage wasn't all that bad. I stayed in my low gears and moseyed easily up. It would go up, then level off, up, then level.... not bad at all. I wondered if I was even on the right road, it was so much less taxing than I'd expected.

I didn't need my cue sheet; the route is clearly marked with paint, with plenty of advance notice of turns, curves, and scary descents. When I reached the turn-off where I could continue the course or go home, I went home, which was 13 or so miles. I knew exactly where I was, having ridden/driven that road a jillion times. It's on the way to my mom's house.

Neither of my bike computers is working, so I had my stopwatch running and then figured my mileage with a combination of the cue sheet and G-maps. 48.1 miles, time 3:55, = 12.3mph average, including several stops, the Wall, Big Savage, and the large number of other Garrett County, MD hills and long grades. It was actually very nice not having the computers. I just kept my gears easy and had a nice, no-pressure ride.

Next week I'll do the whole course. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. There are two or three more "bears" on the part of the course I didn't do, including one called "Killer Miller Hill," which some SavageMen have said is the worst of all, although it doesn't get its own page at the Savageman site.

I guess we could say Savageman's "Three Bears" are the Westernport Wall, Big Savage Mountain, and "Killer Miller Hill," whicih, of course, I haven't tackled yet. We shall see!

I'm happy, and relieved. Except for the Wall, so far this is just the Garrett County bike-riding I've been doing for years. I can do this.

SOMEONE FINALLY SAID IT

I hadn't been able to put my finger on the answer before, no matter how hard I thought about it and how hard I tried.

The answer to the question asked of me on the Trail, by hikers, non-hikers, and by my own self:
"Why are you out here? Why are you doing this?"

I was watching the TV broadcast of the Ironman World Championship in Kona (it was on NBC last Saturday.) A participant who was a Navy Seal said, "You do this to test your soul."

To test your soul. That's the answer I've been looking for.

The great Christian writer Oswald Chambers said, "The author who benefits you most is not the one who teaches you something you did not know, but who puts into words what you have been struggling dumbly to express."

It's not the answer to why I run marathons or why I do triathlons, even the two Ironman triathlons I've completed. Those are physical tests. I guess my spirit is challenged to go through with marathon or Ironman training, but the events themselves don't test my soul.

Hiking the Appalachian Trail did. And I found I wasn't up to it. I have to develop some more before I can undertake that soul-test again. I have to develop and mature and change in a number of areas before I'll be ready. I thought I was ready. I guess I was ready to start.... just not ready to keep on.

Partly it was my body. My body was ready to start but not to continue past 1,000 miles.

But it was also my soul. Part of my soul is still out there, with my friends who are now in New York.

My AT hike is still a work in progress. So am I.

ONE OR THE OTHER BUT NOT BOTH

Nope, this isn't about leaving the AT and returning to real life.

It's about my bike computers.

Since I started biking 3 weeks ago, my cadence computer hasn't been picking up. I cleaned the sensor, checked the position, checked the wires... still didn't work. Front-wheel sensor working fine, so I had my distance, time, speed, average, and max, but had to guess at my cadence, relying on (of all things) how it felt.

Yesterday I broke down and bought a new front tire (every tube I've put in, since running through the glass, has flatted.) Took both wheels with me in case I decided to buy 2 and have them put on. Ended up buying only one tire. They wanted money to put it on so I said, thanks, but no thanks. If it were free with the purchase, fine, but I can put the tire both wheels back on myself, thankyouverymuch. I'll buy a new rear tire come payday.

It was wonderful today to ride without my front tire going flat. But now.... my FRONT sensor isn't picking up, and, since removing and replacing the wheel, the REAR one is. So now I have cadence feedback but no distance, time, speed, average, or max.

Yes, I put the wheel on right side around. Yes, I've tinkered with the sensor position, and the position of the little gizmo that gives the info to the sensor. I rubbed dirt and dust off both. Nothin'.

Anyway, per schedule I rode for an hour by my watch. No stats other than that my cadence was in the 80's and 90's. I'll credit myself 16 miles: medium-distance, medium-pitch hills, as much downhill as up (for once) and I probably averaged 16. Maybe.

BIKING TO WORK

Well, I wish I had a video. Or even a photo. But didn't have the foresight to have a photographer accompany me.

My first day at the gym job. I was supposed to open the facility at 7:00a.m. I left at 6:05 on my bike allowing me plenty of time for an effortless 7.5 miles, planning to get there at 7:45.

Until I rode through the glass.

There must have been a wreck. There was crumbled windshield glass all over the road. There was no way I could ride around it, and by the time I saw it, I was already in it.

And of course a tire went immediately flat.

I was only about half a mile out from the gym, and thought, "I could walk the bike there as fast as I can change the flat." So I pulled my running shoes out of my backpack, changed shoes, and started walking.

The County Fairground is right there, and I saw that the lower gate was open. I could cross the hypoteneuse of a right triangle, rather than its sides, by going through the fairgrounds. Good! That'll save time.

Until I discovered that the upper gate, right across the road from the gym entrance, was locked. Chainlink fence, 6 feet high, topped with barbed wire, gate of the same. Locked.

By now, if I go back down through the fairgrounds and back around the right-angle of the road, I will be late. I'm opening the gym; there's no one else there. I can't go back around the road.

I have to get over the fence. Chainlink. Six feet high. With barbed wire at the top.

I saw an above-ground electric box, about 2 feet high, a few yards along the fence. And above the box.... a place where the barbed wire was broken. We're on! It's the only way I can even get close to opening the gym on time.

I climbed up onto the electric box, picked up my bike, hoisted it over the fence, and dropped it down on the other side, keeping my arms out of the way of the barbed wire.

Then I tried to find a foothold.

Yeah, right. Chainlink has little diamond-shaped structures about 2.5 inches across. Standing on the electric box, I only had to climb up about 4 feet of them. But my toes wouldn't fit in, and the little x's formed by the chainlink structure protruded above the top rail, even where the barbed wire was broken. I had to navigate over those sharp wire x's as well as through the little sagging place in the barbed wire.

It took half a dozen tries. I had to find a handhold between the x's to give me some leverage and stability, and stick the tips of the toes of my bike shoes in between the chainlinks and hope friction or something would hold me in place, while I dodged the sharp x's and maneuvered into the narrow spot where the barbed wire was loose.

I had to unhook my shorts from the fencing and barbed wire several times, while not losing my grip with the other hand. From the top of the fence, it was 6 feet down (no electric box on the other side.) I dropped my daypack over as something, anything, to land/fall on.

Several cars passed during all this. No one stopped to see if I needed help or to ask what the heck I was doing. I guess a small, skinny, older woman in shorts and a bike helmet, climbing over a barbed-wire-topped chainlink fence at the fairgrounds with her bike waiting on the other side, is an everyday occurrence.

I prayed, "Lord, I'm training for SavageMan... Please don't let me get hurt."

And with that, I Spidermanned up one side, through the hooks and spikes, and down the other. I was not hurt. My clothes were not torn. I was over!!

I had the gym open at 5 minutes before 7.

Whew!!

BACK TO LIFE

Yesterday I went back to bed, after an hour-long birdwatching walk with a group from the park, during which I still felt so miserable I wanted to just go home and cry. I felt a lot better after I slept a couple more hours. Then I went with my mother to the viewing of a friend of hers, whose death we hadn't even known about when we got up yesterday morning (although I knew about it by birdwatching time, another reason I was miserable.) I skipped the planned swim and bike, took a rest day. I've been knocking myself out grinding my bike up hills with no particular plan except increasing the mileage of each ride (I got up to 24 with about a 4-mile killer hill about 5 days ago and was sick the rest of the day.)



Today, by contrast:

Got up at 6:15

Drove (did not bike) to gym where I start part-time job tomorrow, had hour-long orientation

Ran 30 minutes

Went on plant-identification walk with group from park, loved it, learned a lot

Feel much more optimistic, motivated, productive, hopeful; much less tired, remorseful, or depressed.



On my run, I followed Jeff Galloway's suggested run/walk pattern for 9-minute miles: run 2 minutes, walk 30 seconds. Not sure if this is recommended if you're already running 9-min miles (I don't think I am), or if you're hoping to achieve them (that would be nice.) Also not sure I'll stick with that pattern, but for now while I'm still testing and challenging my tendons, it's both conservative and ambitious enough.

I've downloaded and printed Gail Bernhardt's 13-week Ironman training program, to use for my SavageMan Half. My long runs won't have to be as long, but the swim and bike sessions are fine for me just as they are. The longest bike workout is 5 hours, which is just about what the SM course will probably take me (or longer....)

Since I'm 9 weeks out from SavageMan, I jumped into the program at Week 4, which happily is a "rest" week after 3 "build" weeks. I'm amazed at how easy this program is, the relatively few training hours and easy workouts. Reading over it, it became clear to me that I've been working myself far, far too hard, pounding myself too hard for too long on the hills on the bike, and doing too many bricks and 3-way's (all 3 sports in one day.) I've done low-key 1/2 and full IM training before, but somehow thought I needed to put in 2-3 hours a day for this one because of the difficulty of the course and because I've been hiking hills and mountains 8-10 hours a day and wanted to maintain my fitness.

There is no way I can maintain what 8-10 hours a day gave me. I might as well give that up right now, and as a matter of fact I have. What I can do is take that wonderful base and enjoy my 1-1.5 hour tri-training sessions, even if I gain a few pounds and lose a few muscle fibers.

So: tomorrow's training is supposed to be:
1-hour swim
30-min bike

I'm already breaking training, though. I'll bike the 8 miles to and from the gym, which will be about an hour of biking. Working 7-4 tomorrow, alone, my first day there. Luckily I've worked there before, maybe 3 years ago, and not much has changed.

With that work shift and a bike ride home, I probably won't work in the swim. It's OK, though. I really don't need to swim more than once or twice a week, just enough to keep me from panicking at the start of the race, and get me through before the cutoff time, a generous 70 minutes for the 1.2-mile swim. No problem there.

On with the show....

WEEKEND

We spent the weekend in Columbus, OH, with ALL of our kids and grandkids, and my mother, and Steve's parents.

We had a great barbecued-ribs picnic.

I shared the One-Hundred Pushups website with our 16-yr-old wrestler step-grandson and we did pushups together.

I went running, with our 13-yr-old grandson and 10-yr-old granddaughter along on bikes. One hour, 3 min walk/3 min run, no tendon problems.

We got photos of four generations on both sides of the family.

I hurt a beloved family member badly without meaning to and it continues to haunt me even though we hugged and talked about it. I'd give anything to be able to undo it. Anything. Anything.

I finally made friends with our one-year-old granddaughter.

I jumped on the trampoline with the grandkids until I got motion sick, which was about 90 seconds.

My mother, 6-yr-old granddaughter, and I went to our 10-yr-old granddaughter's gym and watched the last half-hour of her 4-hour gymnastics practice.

I played innumerable alphabet games with our 6-yr-old granddaughter for the 4-5-hour trip both ways in the car. I drove both ways, with her and my mother and my 50-pound dog. Steve and our son and the one-yr-old went in our son's truck.

I came home so drained and exhausted from the highs, lows, and exertions, that I wanted to cry but couldn't.

I went to bed at 8:30 and read Jeff Galloway's "Running Until You're 100." He recommends running every other day at my age. He says nothing about whether the off-days should include bike training for a half-iron triathlon with a 7-mile climb straight up the mountain, and that's only the longest of the climbs (1,950 of the total 5,700 feet of climbing.)

I finally fell asleep after 11 and woke up at 4:30. I don't know how I'm going to train today. I also don't know how I'm going to be ready for this triathlon.

It's not even 7 o'clock in the morning and already I'm discouraged.

COULDA, SHOULDA, WOULDA

Tonight I'm feeling homesick for the Trail. I miss my hiking companions.

Maybe I should have stayed out there.
If I'd done some things differently, maybe I could have.
If certain things had been otherwise, I would have.

But I didn't, and things are they way they are.

Maybe I shouldn't have stopped.
Maybe I could have kept going.
If I could have.... should I have? Would I?

You know what.... "Should have..." "Would have..." "Could have...."

These are all useless speculations. Whenever we say these words, the fact of the matter is, we didn't. Pondering whether we should have, or would have, or could have, is continuing to try to make a decision that has already made.

The reality is, we didn't. Learn from it, pick it up and go from there; don't waste energy imagining how things might be different if we had, because imagining is all we can do. Better to direct one's power into the reality that is now.

Tomorrow's docket holds some serious hills on the bike. 20 miles, to the bottom of SavageMan's first, 4-mile "dangerous descent" (verbatim from course cue sheet), and then back up it.

I would have been irreparably sorry if my prospects for SavageMan disappeared -- if I chose the Trail, and then, for whatever reason, SavageMan was discontinued. This I knew.

I "could have" broken my ankle out there if I'd kept on, and and not been able to have either the Trail or SavageMan.

This way, I have both.

I RAN!

One hour, walk/run intervals in a pattern of 3:00/2:00 for a total of 24 minutes of running.

No word from my tendons, during, after, or today. No news is good news.

But my quads are sore. I can't believe it. I've been walking down mountains carrying a 30-pound backpack for 3 months.... I thought I had quads like the gods'. Twenty-four minutes of intermittent running, over very gentle rolls with downhills rarely coinciding with the run segments, made them sore.

Either I'm losing it or it continues to demonstrate, as I've discovered already, that these triathlon sports are not to be equated with hiking. I can't just jump into it as I thought I'd be able to. I have the endurance, and aerobically I'm fine on heavy-duty bike climbs, but my legs.... well, it's not the same. I thought I'd be able easily to knock off 2 or 3 hours of training a day.

Oh, well.... who *needs* 2 or 3 hours a day? It's not like I'm getting paid for this.

I just want to kill the Westernport Wall. Or at least put it out of its misery.

And then continue to ride the remaining 7 miles of Big Savage Mountain with something resembling aplomb.

Go on. Check the links. I dare ya. Well, no, actually I really want you to. This is one hell of a triathlon. I hope I'm up to it.

ADJUSTING

First, though.... isn't today's date cool? 7/8/9. Won't happen again till 8/9/10.

Our granddaughter Gracie, when she was about 6, had a favorite joke: Why is 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 8 9. We laughed and said it was funny. She told it to us every time we saw her for a couple years. One summer, when she was maybe 9, she asked the question, and I answered: "Because 7 8 9." She was silent a moment and then burst out laughing: "Oh! I get it! Because 7 ate 9!" Then she looked abashed and said, "Took me long enough....."

Anyway....

I'm 6 steps forward and 2 steps back adjusting to off-Trail life. Yesterday was a rest day from training and I couldn't find anything to do with myself except read and eat. I finished John Steinbeck's "Tortilla Flat" -- a hilarious tragedy -- and started a borrow-and-bring-back from a coffee house: Jan Karon's "Home to Holly Springs."

I ate like an idiot. We didn't have any junk food so I made my own out of weird combinations. My weight is up 3 pounds today.... too many carbohydrates = fluid gain. My Google average is up a pound from last week although it still says "Maintaining your weight." I ate a lot of stupid stuff because I couldn't think of anything to do. I could have played the guitar or penny whistle (piano isn't set back up yet) or cleaned out my closet or.... but I didn't. I ate and lay on the couch and read books.

I haven't decided how much weight it's OK to regain. I thought I was 15 pounds overweight at the start of my hike and lost 20-21. I'd like to stay just under where I'd been if I'd lost the 15 -- which is where I am now.

I felt restless and sluggish all day. Maybe I should go take a hike on "rest days." I felt depressed and unmotivated. Hiking all day every day took the decision-making out of the Trail days. Wake up, hike 15-20 miles, stop, eat, sleep. Decisions were like, fill my empty bottle at this creek, or do I have enough in my other bottle to make it to the next one? Never anything like how to fill empty days.

Last night I slept in my sleeping bag on the deck outside our camper. It was cool and breezy and the bag/underpad combination felt right and today I feel better. Going grocery shopping and then out to walk/run on the SMan course, then taking care of Abbie and Sarah for the afternoon and evening.

SAVAGEMAN TRAINING

I had this idea that, having hiked 8-10 hours a day for 3 months over steep hills, 5,000-ft mountains, rocks and boulders, carrying a 30-pound backpack, it would be a cinch to switch to a couple hours a day of triathlon training carrying *no* pack.

It's not.

My arms and shoulders, accustomed to "poling" with my hiking poles, as well as push-ups, aren't used to swimming.

My legs, hardened to hauling me and my pack up and down hills, aren't used to pedalling.

My back, strengthened to the weight of my backpack, isn't used to riding position on a road bike.

My rib cage muscles, used to heavy breathing over long, slow effort, aren't used to the aerobic intensity of biking up hills.

My feet, accustomed to 15-20 miles a day walking on dirt and rocks in thick-soled leather-and-Goretex hiking boots, aren't used to running on pavement in flexible lightweight fabric running shoes.

I was worried about my Achilles tendons. I wasn't prepared for metatarsal soreness just from flexing my feet more on the road than on the trail. Plus I'm still concerned about my tendons.

My butt, smaller with less cushioning than before, isn't used to the saddle. My sitbones hurt.

Nevertheless, here's the training story:

Last week
Came home from Trail on Monday. Rested Tuesday and Wednesday.

Thursday: 35-minute swim, in wetsuit in lake. Later, one loop of SavageMan run course (6+ miles) walking, 30-second run every 10 minutes for total of 80 minutes with grand total of a whopping 4 minutes of running.

Friday: 16-mile bike, on SavageMan course, average 14.7mph. Saw a black bear, a turkey, and a deer -- more wildlilfe than on any single day on the AT.

Saturday: Rested.

This week
Sunday: Brick consisting of 18-mile bike, including a 2-mile-long uphill and a bunch of shorter ones, 15.7mph avg., then a one-minute walk followed by 5-minute run. No complaints from tendons.

Monday (today): Although my rib muscles were sore from yesterday, 40-minute swim with swim-to-bike transition and easy-spin 11.5 mile bike. Then got ambitious and did 9-minute run.

Tomorrow: I better be careful. Going pretty hard here. And right now, it's 9:30pm and I'm going to bed. Good night!

ONE WEEK LATER

I'm finally unpacking my backpack. This makes it official: it's over. I haven't been able to bring myself to do it till now.

Tent is set up outside airing out, sleeping bag and liner are in the hamper, rain pants in the closet, various accoutrements where the various accoutrements go (or in the trash), "everything dress" (nightgown, camp dress, town dress, laundry-day dress, even church dress, purchased for $1 at a yard sale in Damascus, VA) is hand-washed and hanging to drip dry, and I guess the pack will go in the big bin with my unused dehydrated food and other supplies. Maybe I'll store it in Jon or Jamie's freezer, rather than eating it up over the summer as I'd planned. It'll be that much less to dehydrate for next year (or whenever.)

Thank you so much to all who have been following my journey and offered their support, encouragement, and congratulations. I'll be getting to you all individually... stay tuned, waiting with baited breath!

I have a lot of catching up to do, blog-wise, on unfoldings between "The Last Night" and now. I've been in the water, on my bike, and in my running shoes (transitioning v-e-r-y carefully from hiking to running and listening carefully to my tendons. Up to 5 minutes of running now!!) I have also been to church with my mother, to the local 4th of July "Homecoming" parade and picnic, to our son's birthday dinner, and especially have been with our two youngest granddaughters catching up with them. Abbie wants to monopolize me, which isn't difficult as Sarah (13 months) doesn't even KNOW me and only fraternizes with me as a last resort if her parents, grandpa, or other grandparents aren't available.

~Sigh~