NO HIKING PICS

We went for a long hike yesterday -- 8.5 hours on the trail, up-up-up-up-up and then of course what goes up must come down... 

 

I took a lot of pictures but my camera was acting funny. Sometimes the shutter button wouldn't click. Sometimes the display screen read, "No CF Card." Then it would start working again.

 

Today a friend asked me to take pictures of his car for sale. Camera acted funny again. When I went to show him the pictures, again it said, "No CF Card." I opened it up and.... no CF card. Empty. Like I'd forgotten to put film in a film camera. I said, "That's weird. It was saying that yesterday and I thought the card was just not in straight or something, because it was working... it's not supposed to work if there's no card in it." And then I remembered... it wasn't working right. Sometimes the shutter button wouldn't click.

 

And here I am a supposed advanced photographer who knows her way around a camera.

 

So all those pictures I took yesterday remain in my head. And to think I did all that hiking with my heavy digital SLR swinging from my neck; I kept knocking it with my trekking poles, tossing it over my back to get it out of the way, knocking the lens cap off. It made the trip harder. And no memory card in it.

 

Kind of like my head. No memory card in it.

 

I was thinking, as we hiked; I saw a stone with a large smooth section of mica and thought, "You can see yourself in it." And then, as we continued through the forest, I saw that that was true of everything on the trail. The different ecosystems you pass through as you journey up and back down; the way the organisms co-exist,  subsist, cooperate, resist. You can see yourself in it.

 

I can see myself in it.

MY PEPSI-CAN STOVE!

Well, I guess I should call it a Coke-can stove, but the established nomenclature is Pepsi-Can Stove, or, more generically, beverage-can stove. It's made from the bottoms of 2 Coke cans: one for the top section, one for the bottom section, and a strip is cut from the wall of a third can, to make the inner cylinder. Fuel (denatured alcohol) is poured into the center, runs into the outer chamber between the inner cylinder and the wall of the stove, and sends a lovely hot blue flame out the holes.

I made it! By myself! With the instructions from this site, after finding that this hiker had one that he made. It fascinated me right away and I knew right off that I wanted one. To make one myself. I will feel even better about my AT endeavor, the more of my gear I make or improvise myself. I'll also be more likely to be able to do it at all. The hiker who introduced me to this little stove is in Pennsylvania now, and afraid he will not be able to finish the Trail due to running out of money. Click on the "this hiker" link, above, to read his story. Then go here to read his wife's version as she supports him from home.

Here's the stove set up with lightweight tent stakes as the pot support. Anything that can do double duty is good.

Here's the pot set up on it. When I'm hiking I'll want a much lighter pot, but this was what I had.

Then after I lit it, I wrapped a piece of aluminum foil around the whole system for a windscreen.

Wow! With 2 ounces (60mL) of denatured alcohol, it burned for half an hour. A pint (120mL) of water in the pan boiled in 7 minutes. I could easily cook pasta on this! It would probably have boiled sooner if I'd set the tent stakes lower so the pot was closer to the fire.

I love it!!!

WHITE LEDGE LOOP TRAIL, Chocorua, NH

It occurs to me that this title will turn up on the Internet if anyone Googles "White Ledge Trail" to see if they want to hike it, so I'm making this somewhat informational for them, and hopefully entertaining for my friends.

The trail starts at White Ledge Campground off Rte. 16, in the White Mountain National Forest. When I got out of the truck in the park, I didn't see anything resembling a trail, so I just took off walking up the paved road in the campground and before long I stumbled on it, next to a sign that said "Parking for campground patrons only." A good citizen, I had parked in the "non-camping" spaces, next to the bathroom (which was good as outhouses go, but not as classy as a real chemical or composting toilet.)

This is fairly early in the trail, after an encouraging start (flat, carpeted with pine needles); it starts up gently after a quarter mile or so (estimated) and continues to do so less and less gently up to the summit, an overall 1,450 feet over 2.7 miles to the summit. The entire loop is 4.4 miles, mostly forested except for the half-mile or so (again, estimated) on the ledge (it's more of a bald, not really a ledge) approaching and leaving the top.

The trial is marked with yellow blazes (it's a White Mountains National Forest trail, not an AT trail, which would have been marked with white.) Although you can't see it in the picture, there actually is a yellow blaze at the top of this rocky path, which otherwise has possibilities for going astray.

As does this one. The bare rock path was a little slippery -- it had rained last night. I was glad for my rubber-tipped trekking poles.

It was also quite hot on the rocks in the sun, towards the summit. Here's Journey with her tongue dragging the ground. She went with me, to defend me against marauders of whatever species. She was much more surefooted than I on the rocky parts. This spot was the first open mountain view after emerging from the woods.

Cairns like this marked turns, since the blazes painted on the rocks might be easily missed, sending you off into the wild blue yonder. Turn here...

And again up ahead at that next one. The blazes tell you which direction; the cairns call your attention to them.

This isn't a cairn; no human put it there.... I wonder how long it's been there.

A lovely view to the southeast...

And, in case you're so intent on looking for yellow blazes that you forgot to look up...

Less-familiar view of Mt. Chocorua and the "Three Sisters," from the east.

On the trip down the mountain, I unleashed Journey; footing was so hard that I didn't want to take the chance of her jumping ahead pulling me down. She was the perfect hiking companion -- she'd spring down the ledges and then wait for me to pick my way down, although she had to entertain herself by watching squirrels in the trees while she waited. She was great. If she ran ahead too far, I'd call, "Journey, wait!" and she'd stop and wait for me.

As I said, it was hot... over 85*F by noon. Journey found a mudhole to wallow in, being part pig; I was too busy thinking, "How am I going to get that off her for the ride home?" to think to take a picture. She wouldn't have shown up anyway; the forest-floor mud was as black as she is. Luckily there was a stream crossing later on (there's one each way, stepping stones) and she got rinsed off there. We were back at the trailhead at 12:45; 2.5 hours exactly for 4.4 miles, including stops for pictures, breath-getting, Camelbak drinks (Journey drinks from the Camelbak too; I squeeze the bite valve and she catches the stream in midair.) I guess I've still got triathlete-think in my brain: X hours:minutes for X miles including stops. ~Sigh~ It gets worse.... the AMC White Mountain Guide estimates 2:55 for this loop, so I beat that by 25 minutes including stops...

However, I was not hurrying. I wanted to see everything. And hear everything. I heard something big crashing in the brush about 100 feet off the trail; I couldn't see it, but it sounded too big to be a whitetail deer, which would have made it a moose or a black bear. I'm not afraid of either one, but a moose is one of those critters I don't want to meet face to face by myself in the wild. Meeting up thus with bears in Maryland, I've learned that saying, "Hi!" is enough send them packing. However, I'm not used to moose, and don't know what to say to one. Journey started her "There's something chaseable there!!" yipping, though, which deterred whatever it was from coming our way. Good dog. She was on leash at that time, or she'd have been after it. It is no mystery to me how she ended up at the dog pound as a stray. But now and then I think how much she lucked out, given the usual fate of dog-pound strays. Traveling in a truck all over the country, going for long runs and woodland hikes. Doesn't get much better for a dog. Or a dog-owner.

I saw a hairy woodpecker (that name cracks me up); heard what must have been a pileated woodpecker, since the drumming was too loud to have been a downy or hairy w.p. There are veerys singing in these woods; they have a lovely distinctive trill that sounds to me like running several successive soft mallets down (not up)the scale of a xylophone. Red squirrels, a tufted titmouse (that's a bird, not a mouse, in case you're not familiar with it); most of the creatures, though, must have been holed up in a damp shady place out of the heat. So most of the had that lovely just-me-and-the-forest stillness... somehow enhanced, rather than disrupted, by my companion dog.

FRANCONIA RIDGE LOOP

From the summit of Little Haystack Mountain, Franconia Ridge Trail, White Mountains, New Hampshire

Last week Steve and I hiked a beautiful 9-mile loop here in the White Mountains. The Falling Waters Trail leads upward to the summit of Little Haystack Mountain (4,760 feet), picks up the Appalachian Trail to take you along the Franconia Ridge Trail to Mt. Lincoln (5,089 feet) and finally Mt. Lafayette (5,250 feet.) There are 48 mountains in NH over 4,000 feet. This loop was suggested at Hike the Whites as one of the finest day hikes to be had in the area.

It was.

It was also my first New Hampshire glimpse of the Appalachian Trail (I've walked short segments of it in Virginia), and I took a picture of my first "white blaze" -- the 2-inch by 6-inch white paint marks on the trees or rocks which mark the 2000+ miles of trail so you don't lose your way.

Don't be deceived, though.... this looks like a pretty little dirt path edged with rocks. The AT is not like that. From Little Haystack to Mt. Lafayette, there were ups and downs that can only be called bouldering. On the few flat ridges, the path is laid out to keep hikers in line to protect a fragile ecosystem, in this case Alpine. They don't want you walking all over tundra flora like these:

We had encountered this sign while still below the treeline:

Here is another section of our trip up the mountain on the Falling Waters Trail, more representative of what a lot of the hike was like:

Yes, that is the trail.

At one point I reached for a handhold, missed, and flopped back on my ass, or would have had there been anything behind me to land on. With my ass hitting nothing but air, the momentum carried me on backwards, over my backpack (which kept me from getting hurt), onto my shoulders with my feet behind me in a Yoga Plough position. I struggled like a turtle and finally completed the rest of a back somersault and righted myself. Thank goodness Steve was ahead of me and didn't see it, although he heard my yelp of alarm and yelled back, "Are you all right?" Thank goodness I was, although when I first started falling I thought, crap, at the very least this is going to hurt, and at worst I might actually get injured here.

We hiked down the Old Bridle Trail to complete our loop, and it was much the same. Rockslides you had to inch down.

I crunched each ankle once, but each one recovered in a couple minutes. My quads hurt for 3 days afterwards, though. And I had enough abrasions that hikers we met up with kept saying, "Looks like you took a spill." The funny thing was, none of the bloody or dirt-smudged spots were in places that could have been hurt when I fell. I didn't know where they had come from. Just trail souvenirs.

Here's Steve picking his way among the roots:

He emerged from the hike without a scratch or bruise, and claimed that his quads were not sore, either. I feel outclassed.

Nine miles. A drop in the AT bucket.

More pictures from along the Falling Waters Trail:

I loved this hike. We're going out again tomorrow, but haven't mapped our trail yet. It's going to be hot, 90*F, so we probably won't go as far. If Steve backs out and says he'd rather not go (this sounded possible...) I'll take Journey and hike by myself. I've been reborn to hike.

--------------

Update already: Steve says it's going to be too hot to hike tomorrow. He wants to wait till Thursday. However, I may still go do an easy trail tomorrow by myself. I want to hike.

RE-INVENTING MYSELF

I have not been blogging. I've been thinking. I've been re-inventing myself.

I have not been running. I started returning to it but got tired of it.

I have not been biking. I started returning to that, too.... but got tired of it.

Lord knows I haven't been swimming.

I had registered for a triathlon which took place today in Maine, but my manager forgot to giveme the day off. I said, that's OK, I didn't want to go anyway.

What I want to do is hike. And learn to backpack and wilderness-camp, and be ready to start the Appalachian Trail next spring. I'll probably only do half, or a little more, from its start in Georgia to the Maryland-Pennsylvania state line. Although we're more or less "retired," I still can't take 6 months out of my life and everyone else's to hike the whole trail. Steve is talking about spending the summer back "home" at Deep Creek Lake, Maryland; on the way there from wherever we spend the winter (south), he can drop me off in Georgia and I'll just walk home.

I have to learn to live out there first, though. To manage with next to nothing, and learn to rely on myself. Which, actually, is one of my reasons for wanting to hike the Trail, learning self-relliance, but I'll have to learn a little of it before I start.

Today I made myself a little stove out of one of those teeny aluminum cups that hold tea candles. I filled it with 15mL (a tablespoonful) of 91% isopropyl alcohol (the stronger variety of rubbing alcohol), put a few stones around it as a pot stand, flicked my Bic and it burned for 17 minutes. I got the idea from this site about ultralight backpacking. On this creation I cooked a package of Ramen noodles (an AT-hiker staple). I wasn't hungry but I was so pleased with my accomplishment that I ate them anyway. Denatured alcohol is recommended, but I didn't have any. I could probably actually get the water to boil on a candle-cup full of that! Even without boiling, though, the noodles cooked. I was so happy!!

The Vermont City Marathon was 4 weeks ago. I posted a few hopeful thoughts about a PR this fall, if not a BQ, but then I lost interest as I tried running and just didn't enjoy it, and started thinking that I want to spend my long-"run" days doing long hikes, not marathon-training. I guess I'm recovered physically, but mentally -- either I haven't recovered, or I emerged from that marathon a changed person. Because I am not interested in doing another marathon. Not for a long, long time. I will not be trying for Boston this year. I will be hiking.

I think this blog is, starting now, the story of a runner-triathlete-turned-hiker.

I don't want to run. I want to hike. I want to walk and walk until I get to the end of the earth. Or to Pennsylvania. I wish I could go all the way to Maine.

SUPER EXERCISE WEBSITE!

Wow!! This site, ExRx, has EVERYTHING!! The anatomy and physiology of muscles and muscular exercise. Strength-training, flexibility-trianing, aerobic and endurance training. Details on how to use every conceivable piece of gym equipment. Beginners' information. Training plans for running and triathlon (although it only goes up to Olympic distance.) Injury prevention and treatment. Gym etiquette. Recommended books. Exercise psychology. Nutrition. Weight management. I mean, this site has EVERYTHING!! I found it when I did a google search for "hip rotators." Wow.... I found remedial exercise for that and everything else that could ever happen. This site is amazing! You gotta go see it!!!

My training today: 23.6 miles on the bike. I'm getting back into shape -- I feel like an athlete again. I didn't, before VCM, or especially during it.

Yesterday I ran 3 miles, first run since VCM. My hip still hurt (which is why I did the search which turned up this astonishing website.) It was good to run again. Tomorrow I'm going out for new running shoes :-)

BACK IN THE SADDLE

When you're thrown from the horse, show 'em who's boss, jump right back in the saddle.

I'm working on a new training plan, incorporating strength training. I'm starting with just light weights, increasing the weights a little but dropping the reps in each set, as suggested in Body for Life. This program has a food plan that's not for endurance athletes, but I think the exercise plan will work for anyone, and it's very structured -- good for me, because I don't have to think about it, kind of like having someone else plan my food for me (which would be great.... I eat crazy and out of control in the evenings.)

Here's the plan:
Day 1: Upper-body.
Day 2: Run or bike training.
Day 3: Lower-body and abs.
Day 4: Run or bike training.
Day 5: Upper-body.
Day 6: Run or bike.
Day 7: Rest.

Uh-oh, I don't do well with every-day training. But I'm thinking maybe it will be OK if every other day is weights, if I don't make them too heavy.

I would really like to run a recent-incarnation PR at the Clarence DeMar Marathon on Sept. 30. I'm not going to BQ this year, I'm quite sure. But my best in 3 years would be great. Three years ago marked my return to marathoning after 3 years of doing only tri's, the longest of those 1/2-IM's. I ran a 5:30 at the Chicago Marathon that year; 5 weeks later a 4:50 at Huntinton, WV's Marshall University Marathon. Then I submerged into IM training and we know how IM marathons usually turn out. After my first IM, ChesapeakeMan, two months later I managed a nice 4:45 at RNR AZ. Since then, ~5:20 at Hatfield-McCoy (June 2006), I think 7 hours or so at IMFL, and recently 5:22 (watch time) at VCM. I struggled more on the slower ones than the faster ones.

Dropping my marathon time will require dropping weight as well. About 20 pounds. ~Sigh~

Where's that diet-meal delivery service?

I'M ME AGAIN

Since VCM, I've been so tired and achy for most of the next week, I wondered if I was sick.

After IMFL, I had no desire ever to do another triathlon.

I'm over it now.

Yesterday, 6 days after the marathon, I wasn't sore or tired anymore. Yesterday, 7 months after IMFL, I found a sprint tri to look forward to: The Wild Bear, Poland, Maine, June 23, 1/3-mile swim, 16-mile bike, 5K run.

I think training for these easy distances will actually help my marathon recovery, if I don't go too crazy. Swimming will feel good all over, biking will move my legs without the pounding; I'll take another week off running, but I can surely do the 5K run leg by June 23.

So yesterday I got out my bike, inflated the tires (which were down to 60 pounds), and rode 12 miles. Today my back and neck muscles are -- well, not sore, but not normal. After just 12 miles!! No wonder my marathon was so crappy.... I'm just plain out of shape.

I also got a gym membership.

I feel better now!

CORRECTION AND THANKS

In my celebratory post about Jordin Sparks' American Idol win, I discussed the views of an anti-obesity advocate who felt that Jordin was of the wrong body type to be given "Idol" status for American youth.

I mistakenly attributed these remarks to Geneen Roth, an author, lecturer, and advocate who promotes overcoming eating disorders through self-acceptance. Actually I was puzzled about this, because what I have just described was what I thought Geneen Roth was about, not ever "Someone's too fat."

The remarks were made in fact by MeMe Roth, an anti-obesity vocal.

Thank you to Miss Rachel for calling my attention to this mistake, and my apology for any negative impressions taken to Geneen Roth's excellent work in the area of eating disorders.

NOT NOW, MICHAEL, I HAVE A HEADACHE...

Remember "All in the Family?" Remember the episode in which Michael and Gloria had their baby? Michael was so excited during the birth, he could hardly contain himself. When Gloria finally finished pushing out little Joey, Michael was dancing up and down, enthusing, "That was wonderful! That was so wonderful! Oh, Gloria, when do you want to have another one?"

Gloria shot him a baleful look and said, "Not now, Michael, I have a headache."

That's how I feel now after finishing (yes, I finished) the Vermont City Marathon today. My hips and low back (sacrum and coccys) hurt so much I felt like I was having back labor. Except I've never had back labor, which is probably worse.

I don't want to think about Boston. I don't want to think about an ultra. I don't want to think about running at all.

I feel like maybe I'd just gone through my umteenth labor (my 23rd, I guess, since this was my 23rd marathon), and after maybe 28 hours of hard fruitless labor had a c-section delivering my 23rd son, and now I'm in bed on pain medicines that don't work and my husband says, "So do you want to try again for a girl?"

I don't want to try again for a girl. Not now. Maybe not ever.

I ran the last 10 miles or more with a wonderful lady named Elisha, running her first-ever marathon, at age 38, and she kept saying, "I can't believe I'm really doing this, I can't believe it's finally here." She talked and talked and talked. We were having about the same desire to run and walk so we stayed together. She was about the only redeeming feature of my last 10 miles. She kept me going. Thank you, Elisha, if you read this! You rock! And congratulations!

Then I hopped into my truck and drove 4 hours home to New Hampshire.

As for my time.... remember I walked a lot. I was hurting. s. bad. 5:22. Not my slowest ever but one of the bottom 4.

Except..... it hurt a lot and I stuck it out for over 5 hours. That's gotta count for something.

Don't ask me about Boston. I don't want to think about it.

I want to think about hiking. Not running.

After I go to bed for about 10 hours.

OFF TO VERMONT

Yes, I'm going to the Vermont City Marathon after all. I'm looking forward to seeing some of Vermont for the first time ever; to the foot-tour around Burlington and the surrounding area, to the expo; to sharing the excitement of marathon day with 3000 other runners. I'm meeting Rachelle, the friend of a friend of a friend, you know, one of those friends we all have that we haven't met yet -- she's my age (more or less, within 10 years or so) and runs my pace (more or less, within half an hour or so for the marathon) and is there alone (except for me.) We've got each other's cell phone numbers. We're going to start together and stay together for however long it feels right.

I'm running only to experience a marathon once again, to see the spectators, to explore a new area, to high-five kids, pet dogs, thank volunteers and traffic officers, smile, raise my arms and cheer when people call my name, and generally have fun for 5 or 6 hours.

Because the running part... we'll just have to see how that goes. I have not run for 2 weeks. My last run was 10 miles of running and 6 of walking. 2 weeks prior, 20-turned-16. Three weeks before that, 18 miles. Two weeks before that, 16. So I've had 3 16's and an 18 sandwiched in. The last three weeks of training included 10 days of 10 miles every other day, and a week of 8 miles every other day. But only 16-mile long runs, and, as I said, no running at all the past 2 weeks. I've been moving, definitely: hard physical labor at my new campground job, and, oh yeah, 4 miles of mountain climbing day before yesterday. I still feel the down-trip in my quads a little, even though I tried to take the brunt of it on my upper body via hiking poles. Oh well, maybe that'll dissipate by tomorrow and I'll have stronger quads.

Anyway, I'm off.... soon's I get out of my pj's and throw my gym bag into the truck. Wish me luck!

CAN I CALL 'EM OR WHAT?

I guess it didn't take a whole lot of prophetic talent, but a couple months ago, when I first posted about what I considered Jordin Sparks' incredible talent, she was still somewhat of a dark horse. I truly didn't, at that time, expect her to win. Melinda Doolittle and LaKisha Jones were still ahead of her, and of course there was Blake, but I thought she had the most overall potential and most-deeply-implanted sheer giftedness of the bunch.

It's kind of ridiculous, maybe, for a 55-year-old woman to care at all about such a pop-fad show. But it's not the show I care about. I enjoy hearing gifted singers. I enjoy it when one stands out in a crowd. I enjoy it when a new talent is discovered.

I enjoy it when a deserving person succeeds. I would have been happy to have Melinda win; in fact, I was shocked when she was voted off. Even so, I had a soft spot for little Jordin.

She's not really "little" -- in fact, she is quite a large girl. I'm guessing close to 6 feet and she's no beanpole. I was watching Fox News yesterday, and Meme Roth, an anti-obesity advocate, was being allowed to voice what I considered an outrageous opinion: That for Jordin to win American Idol would be a "nightmare" for American youth, because Jordin is overweight. She felt that for an "overweight" girl to be named an "idol" would only reinforce young people's overconsumption of soda pop, fast food and TV.

Huh?

Jordin's not willowy. She's a big girl, no two ways about it. She's done some work as a plus-size model. But she's not morbidly obese or anything... a little overweight, yeah, but not "fat."

And if she is....

Contest-followers saw a beautiful young woman with guts, courage, a great talent, and delightful personality, and voted her in.

Good call, viewing public.










_____________

Note: This post has been edited to correct erroneous crediting of remarks about Jordin Sparks' body type to the wrong spokesperson. Explanation is given in a subsequent post.

JORDIN SPARKS

Yup, another post about American Idol. Back in March I said Jordin Sparks was a great talent. She was, however, too young to win, I said; not experienced enough to outstrip her two female rivals, Melinda Doolittle and LaKisha Jones.

Well, she's outstripped them. In what I considered a true upset last week, Melinda was voted off, which left Blake and Jordin as the two finalists.

Tomorrow night we will see which America goes for: gloss, or greatness.

Blake is a performer. He has talent for entertaining. He can do that beatboxing thing, he can dance. He can even sing a little. I find him mildly amusing but I wouldn't be able to stay interested for a whole concert. He can catch my attention but not hold it. I think his performances are sort of shallow. Do a funny dance, make a funny noise, smile for the camera.

Jordin.... the last few weeks, during her heartfelt renditions, I have felt riveted. Last week I was so drawn into her reprise of "I Who Have Nothing" that I had an ache in my throat and tension in my core. I felt what the girl in this song was feeling. This singer evokes a gut-level emotional response, which believe is the mark of a true artist, whether singer, painter, writer, photographer, storyteller, player of an instrument.... there are so many venues for art.

If I feel mildly amused by Blake's bee-bopping around, is that an emotion? I don't think so. He leaves me pretty unchanged.

Jordin's vocals cause a change in me and leave me just a little bit different.

As opposed to indifferent after Blake's.

IT'S THE SITTING, NOT THE RUNNING

I'm just not running now until the Vermont City Marathon. Maybe an hour or so on Sunday, a week before the race. I don't usually run during the week before a marathon anyway. It's my unorthodox taper method, that works for me.

Just as I suspected.... my sore buttocks/low-back/hip muscles are not a running injury, they're a sitting injury aggravated by running. This is a good article about it.

My Achilles/ankle pain.... that's a running injury.

Does anyone know anyone else who's running this marathon that I could look forward to meeting? I feel depressed about this race. I'm injured, I'm overweight, running is uncomfortable and tiring, I've given up my time goal (4:30), I don't know anyone there.... I feel like I'm dreading it more than looking forward to it. It hardly seems worth going. Wish I could get up about it.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Another 20-miler DNF'd.

Again I made it for 16.... walking the last 6. I just gave out for running. I tried various combinations of running and walking, and finally just walking. I felt heavy and stiff and tired and sore.

My Vermont City Marathon, in 2 weeks, may be in danger.

Well, in the last 6 weeks or so, I've done 3 16-milers and an 18-miler (that was just before we left Winchester, 4 weeks ago.) I've run marathons on less long-running than that.

I hurt. I can't seem to shake my nagging Achilles and butt/lower back issues. My whole lower sacrum aches when I run more than a few miles. Walking doesn't hurt either set of miseries.

After years of running marathons, I realize that, two weeks out, there is nothing I can do to increase my fitness. What I'm going to do is taper sharply, run minimally, go hiking with my husband (who won't be up for more than probably 5 miles at first), maybe go biking. I've finished my marathon training on a bike before.

Just plain rest my running mechanisms and let my hips and heel try to get better.

I must be getting old or something.

But it was a gorgeous run. I haven't seen skies this blue since Arizona.

OUR NEW DIGS

In Chocorua, New Hampshire, taken on my run today.



The famous Mount Chocorua, from across Chororua Lake. Here is a gallery of painted and photographic renditions of the mountain by various artists.





Journey's swimming beach at mile 4.5 of today's run (I got wet there, too.... it was a really hot day)




Another mountain view




I know you can't read the sign. It says:

Tamworth Fire Department
Chocorua Station

I hope it's not a big fire.


My run:
8 miles, 1:26 moving time, about 2:00 total time (stops for Journey to drink and swim; taking pictures; walking a little every half-mile since it was 85*F which I'm not used to.)

P.S. I love my new camera phone, never had one before. I've been carrying a phone, camera, and GPS (when I don't know my distance.) Bless Race Ready shorts. Now I'm down to just the camera phone and GPS.

ON THE ROAD

Somewhere between Deep Creek Lake, MD and Chocorua, NH.

Somewhere in Pennsylvania. Walpallen, or something like that... one of those inimitable Pennsylvania town-names. Just off the intersection of I-81 and I-80 but definitely off the beaten track. We were on I-81 North, turned briefly onto I-801-West, onto some country sideroads, drove and drove and drove and finally ended up at Moyer's Grove Campground, directed here by Trailer Life and Woodall's Campground Directory, neither of which made mention of closer and more-easily-accessible campgrounds we passed, but we had reservations here, and, people of word that we are, we stuck it out and came here. Tomorrow night, we'll camp somewhere in Massachusetts; the next night, hopefully, at our new digs in New Hampshire.

This is a true red-neck hillbilly trailer-trash campground. The kind I really dig for a night or two. The shower house and laundromat is in the basement of the campground owners. The laundromat costs $1.00 for a washing machine, $.75 for a dryer, half the price of higher-end campgrounds, so I'm washing clothes. Clean underwear and running clothes will materialize two days sooner than expected. I'll take a shower here, too. Our own shower is filled with my sentimental houseplants, and, according to Woodall's, the next campground has PAY SHOWERS (of all the nerve...) so this looks like a good bet.

I'm practicing, you see, taking what's available, rehearsing for navigating the Appalachian Trail. Somewhere in my future.

I had these big ideas of doing it in 2008. That was until a couple days ago. I took 4-yr-old Abbie with me (the Goodwill Shopping Trip) to see her Great-Grandma, my mother. My mother's IQ is about 170 and her ability to navigate life is about -170. She has trouble getting around physically and doesn't sweat the small stuff.

But the small stuff piling up, and either I'm going to need to stay home and help her, or hire someone nearly full-time.

Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.

SHOPPING WITH ABBIE

I took Abbie along when I went to look for new jeans at the Goodwill Store (why spend $30+ on jeans when I can get perfectly good ones, worn just the way I like them, for $6 at Goodwill?)

While I was going through the jeans on the racks, I heard a door, probably the fitting room door, open and close. Didn't think much about it until I heard Abbie, a little ways off and from inside somewhere, call, "Gamma! Me!" ("Grandma! Come see me!") My mind clicked -- I knew who had gone into the fitting room. Turns out that while I was looking through the jeans, she had snagged a bikini off a low rack, taken it to the fitting room, closed the door, and tried it on.




She dug the sunglasses on the rack next to the cash register, too. Perfect with her Harley shirt. Biker chick!!



This child is a trip. What a character! We'll miss her when we go to New Hampshire.

ANOTHER LIST

Subtitle: Stuff that goes in the storage sections in my door of the truck when we travel.

1. Travel atlas
2. Computer-printed directions to planned campgrounds en route
3. "Next Exit" -- a book that literally describes amenities and facilities at every exit on every interstate highway in the U.S.
4. Cloud identification/interpretation book (I like it, and it comes in handy)
5. Reading glasses
6. Sunglasses
7. Pen and writing tablet
8. Scissors
9. Pocket pack Kleenex
10. Wet wipes singles
11. Paper napkins
12. Drinking straws
13. Plastic bags (for trash, and dog poop pick-up at rest stops)
14. Hairbrush, ponytail holders
15. Lip gloss
16. Hand lotion
17. Nail clipper and emery board
18. Band-aids
19. Dog snacks
20. Personal-size battery-powered fan
21. Camera
22. Water bottle

The "dog snacks" -- Tootsie Pops. Yeah, I know, sugar, chocolate, gonna rot my dog's teeth and poison her. She only gets one towards the end of a long trip, when, right around the 4-hour mark, she starts looking longingly out the windshield from the back seat, and lays her chin on Steve's shoulder, clearly asking, "Are we there yet????" She lies on the back seat, holds the stick between her paws and licks the pop. It takes about 10 licks to get to the center.... because after that many licks, she can't stand it anymore and --- CRUNCH!!!

OUT OF TOUCH

We're getting ready to move on. With weekend activities pressing down, we're starting to dismantle our portable home tomorrow, including our satellite dish, which we're giving to our son and his wife. We'll have wi-fi and cable TV at our campground in NH, so we won't need the dish.

What this means in practical terms is that we won't have internet access till who knows when. We'll probably get to our new NH digs Thursday. Maybe Wednesday, but if so we won't be set up till Thursday.

Here's our new campground, Chocorua Camping Village, and here's the 10-day forecast for the area. Remember, I gotta get in that 20-miler next weekend :-/ Friday and Saturday look best.

With packing up stuff tomorrow, a day trip with family to Cabela's on Sunday (2 hrs each way but Steve and I will be getting backpacking equipment for the White Mountains, yay!), and on the road Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I don't know when I'll be running. All I have to do any of those days is go out the door, but I never feel like it after riding in the truck for 5 or so hours. I just feel like a lump. Maybe it will be good to take a rest week.... I've had two "build" weeks with my 10+miles-every-other-day routine, followed by yesterday's aborted long run. In fact, from last Friday thru yesterday (7 days) I've run 49 miles, an all-time record for me. My previous high-mileage-week PR was back in the 1980's, 47 miles including speedwork, tempo, recovery runs, and a long run; it was my peak week before tapering for my all-time PR marathon, Marine Corps Marathon 1989, finish time 3:50.

However, that's not going to happen this month at the Vermont City Marathon. I mean, I wasn't even 40 yet when I ran that 3:50. It was not a Boston Qualifier. I needed 3:40 at that time. I wasn't trying for it. It hadn't occurred to me.