It's Raining, It's Pouring...

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy. It is POURING rain here. We have been in an extended drought so this is very, very good news. All the lakes in town are not only dry, they are now covered in tall grasses. There's also a horrible stink coming off them as ground that has not been exposed to air in probably decades is revealed. When it started sprinkling yesterday, most people I know said they either walked outside or stood on their porch and just marveled at the rain. Like it was some type of unknown phenomena falling out of the sky. We went to sleep last night with the sound of rain beating against the roof and windows and it was so cozy.

My running buddies and I were out in the craziness at 6:30 a.m. Dark streets and sheets of rain pelting us. "This is where your friends tell you you're crazy," said Jack. "And on a day like today, they may have a point."

We had plans to do 4-5 miles but called it quits a little after two miles as we were waterlogged and were probably closer to swimming than running.  We'll try again tomorrow. Meanwhile, I hope the dark skies stay put. Every now and again, these dark, overcast, dreary days are quite fun.

Food That Gets Thrown Out

I'm embarrassed at how much food I waste. The problem is that I get excited in the grocery store and end up buying things that with a little foresight I'd realize I have no intention of eating. Here is but a sample of foods that sound good in the grocery store but not so much when I get home:

• Celery. Every week I buy a huge stalk of celery with plans to snack on celery & peanut butter. And every week I toss out a graying hulk of untouched celery as I snack on Wheat Thins or cereal instead.
• Soup. In the soup aisle, I am under the impression that I love soup and will eat it every day. Ignoring the reality that if you try to feed me soup at noon on a Tuesday, I will throw it back in your face while screaming, "Where's the BREAD???"
• Unknown fruits - Each week I pick up some mottled green thing with bumps, determined that I will discover what it is and cook it. Or I lovingly run my hands over the eggplant--such a pretty purple color.  I have an eggplant rotting in my vegetable crisper even as I write this.
• Frozen vegetables. I can't tell you how many bags of stir fry or mixed vegetables are shivering away right now in my freezer, scorched by major freezer burn. Once home, tearing open the bag and heating water in a pot to warm them just seems like too much effort...
• Any sort of gourmet cheese. I figure if it costs $8 for an ounce, it's got to be good, and I'll feel too guilty not to eat it. I'll share this insight with you- expensive green moldy gourmet cheese is not a pretty sight.

It's time to just admit to the fact that I can get by for years at a time on whole wheat bread, peanut butter, cereal, soy sausage patties, and bananas. And you'll note that nothing in this listing requires me to turn on the stove. What about you? What's your secret grocery store shame?

Inside A Runner's Mind

I ran 21 miles today. Let's repeat that statement, just for fun. I RAN TWENTY-ONE MILES TODAY. And wished all of you were with me. But figured the closest thing to it would be giving you an upfront and inside look at the workings of a middle-aged (but oh-so-young-at-heart) runner's mind as she coughs out the miles. We ran at Salem Lake, which is a 7-mile loop.

Mile 1: I'm cold. This sucks. Just hang in there, Dena. You'll feel better once you warm up.

Mile 3: I'm cold. This sucks.

Mile 4: Running with a pack of people makes the run so much easier. Chris is pacing us and we're doing under a 9-minute pace. I'm so glad I have my group. I'd plod along at a 10-minute pace without them.

Miles 7: First lap complete. That was easy! Should I ditch my long-sleeved shirt? It's still cold out, but my shirt is wet from sweat. However, I'm only wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath. I compare notes with my fellow female runners and we decide we'll all run one more lap in long-sleeves. Load up on Chocolate Outrage Gu.

Mile 7.1: I catch a glimpse of myself in a car window as we head out for another lap. I do not look like that. But in case I actually might, I plunge my hands into my soaking bangs and toss them around, praying for a miracle.

Mile 10: I could almost give a s*** about my bangs. It's taking all my effort to just keep up with our group's pace leader.

Mile 12: I know I need to slow down. My legs hurt at the crease of my torso and my buttocks are singing the "I'm in pain" song too.  But it's only 2 more miles to the next pit stop. Suck it up, girlfriend. Suck. It. Up.

Mile 14: I'm glad I sucked it up. But I know I'm in trouble if I don't slow down for the last lap. I eat 1/4 of a banana (never tried eating on a run before and not sure how it will sit), then eat another Gu and drink Gatorade and water. Uh-oh. My legs hurt.  As in, I don't want to do this anymore. As in, I would sign over the majority of my bank account to anyone with a blanket and a cup of hot coffee who would offer to drive me home. My hair is a sopping wet mass. I remind myself for the umpteenth time to buy a hat. However, it has warmed up a bit so I ditch my long-sleeved shirt. We head out on the final lap.

Mile 15: I'm cold. This sucks.

Mile 16: You know you're tired when you start taking detours around larger pebbles in the road because the thought of lifting your foot high enough to step over them is just incomprehensible.

Mile 17: I'm running alone. There are a few people ahead of me and a few people behind me. Which is okay, as I slow down and get a a good grip on my breathing. My legs feel almost numb, but it's not painful. And I'm breathing just like I was taking an easy stroll around the neighborhood. There is hope for a strong finish. I slightly pick up the pace.

Mile 18: I mess with my bangs again. I good sign I'm feeling better.

Mile 20: Thank you, Jesus. Almost there. However, there is a horrible ugly hill between me and the finish line.

Mile 20.5: I make it 3/4 of the way up the hill, then have to walk. Otherwise, my legs might literally fall off.

Mile 21: 3 hours, 9 minutes, and 21 seconds of running. The minute I stop my legs go wobbly. It's an effort to lower myself to the ground and let's just not talk about getting back up because that wasn't pretty. Our trainer has bagels with peanut butter, Oreo cookies, pretzels, and jelly beans waiting for us. At the moment, he is my favorite person on the planet.

It takes almost 30 minutes of eating, drinking, and recovery before I feel able to drive home. When I want to shift position in the car on the way home, instead of just moving my leg, I use my hands to pick the leg up and reposition it.

Three hours later: I'm home, showered, fed, and napped. Stiff, but not as much as I would have thought. I'm eating everything not nailed down. The cats are staying out of my way. I look forward to a non-running day tomorrow. I hope feeling will return to my left buttock in time for Tuesday's run.

The End

School Lockdown

Have you ever heard of a "lockdown" drill for a school? When I was young we practiced  fire and tornado drills. But now, apparently, today's youth preps for attack.

My yoga instructor teaches an art class at a middle school 2 days a week. When she arrived at the school last Thursday, she found the doors locked and a sign saying no one was allowed in or out of the building. There had been a break-in at a nearby home and guns had been stolen. They didn't know where the 2 guys were who did it, so the school was on lockdown.

My yoga teacher's comment was, "The kids did really well considering they hadn't practiced for it. My daughter's school would have been ready. They just did a lockdown drill last week."

Then a middle school music teacher chimed in that at her school they brought the SWAT team in to act the part of bad guys. At one point, the library teacher tried to lock the library door but wasn't fast enough so the "bad guys" grabbed her and dragged her off to another room. Meanwhile, the kids are instructed to pull the blinds and then stay as far away as possible from any windows. They're also to barricade the door and sit still and not make a sound to alert anyone to their presence.

Oh. My. God. Is this normal now in our nation? Not having kids, I suppose I'm out of the loop. But my jaw was just on the floor as I was brought up to date on today's school drills.  I see how it makes sense to practice but... how incredibly sad that a drill is needed for such a thing.

Is this news to anyone else, or just me?