Posts Tagged ‘Cali 2014’

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Apparently, it is not only great sleeping weather in the Tristate, it’s great dreaming weather. My noggin was chock full o’nuts while I slept.

Spent most of last night in the hunting section of Dick’s Sporting Goods hanging out with a guy (unknown to me) that I swear was the human version of Elmer Fudd. Complete with red checked flannel.

Not really doing anything, maybe a little shopping but not really – talking product quality – and just hanging out.  Because my dreams are *that* interesting.

My brain. I don’t even try to explain it anymore.

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If you look just past the guy at left with the…busy…shirt, that’s me. About 15ft from that rather large elk, shooting with my camera.  Another one from the Eric photo file.

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A friend of mine posted on Facebook recently, saying someone had inquired if he was happy, and so he found himself asking “What is the meaning of happy? Is it a feeling? Is it a material thing?”  He felt he knew his own answer, but wanted to see how others felt. So I answered him:

It’s knowing you wouldn’t change your life – even the rough edges of it.

My birthday was yesterday. Launch of a new decade. Or as my runner-brain has been thinking of it, the dawn of a new age-division.

For the past few weeks, whenever my birthday has come up, I’ve heard it called “the big one”, or had people ask me if I’m having trouble with it as if it should induce some depression, or is comically old, or is catastrophic. Meanwhile, all I can think to myself is “my god! I am so grateful not to be 20 anymore.”  My thirties were pretty good to me. I have no doubt that this new decade will contain it’s own notes of adventure.

I put up my first photo show at the yoga studio last week.

I have posts I want to write floating about in my head – 2 of which are race recaps for trail runs. At 40, I have just begun trail running.

In a few hours, I debut my first guided meditation class as a teacher.  Then I need to go through my prep for my first intensive yoga series that I’m teaching which starts Monday.

And that’s after I’m taking off for a weekend to go teach yoga at The Rugged Red Trail Half-Marathon at Red River Gorge. Eric & Fred are coming along so that we can get our own hiking in between run-related activities and camping with Team RWB.

I have things to do which leave no time for lament, depression or catastrophe.

Too busy being happy.

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Another photo from Eric from the Cali collection.

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No session out at the lake this morning. Head cold I’ve had since Monday still has me a little fogged in my noggin’ and I didn’t think getting lake water up my nose would be beneficial.

From the California file, the Golden Gate bridge is out there somewhere beyond the wall of fog. On any other day, or maybe even later on the same day, that overlook is an amazing view of the bridge. On this day, it was foggy and chilly, and even the wind had a bit of fierce to it. One of the new words we learned in San Fran: MICROCLIMATE.

Blame it on Caesar

Posted: 07/29/2014 in Photos, Uncategorized
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Had a huge wave of fatigue drive me into an early bedtime last night, and sure enough, woke up with a headcold. Body feels it a bit too – like someone graffiti’d tiredness all over my quads and eyeballs.

It’s a fine excuse to stop by Myra’s and pick up some Avgolemono soup. Seriously, there is nothing better than avgolemono soup when you’re sick.

 

 

 

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Runners, when they begin getting into any kind of distance running, start looking at mileage signs on the highway, or distance estimates on google maps and thinking to themselves “I can run that.”  10 miles to the next exit? I can run that. 3 miles to the yoga studio? I should probably run that…

When you first start doing open water swim, you start applying the same “I can run that” principle to water.  Swim-able or not swim-able?

I can’t remember the name of this little inlet (?) off the Bay in San Francisco, but it looked beautiful and calm. There was a rowing team practice going on nearby (fascinating) and these cute little painted houses (houseboats) on the other side. The picture doesn’t do their colors justice. But this little row, so neat and precisely placed, has been coming to mind all week.

Saturday beckons, and with it, swim practice.

 

 

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Ahhh, standard travel picture out the airplane window…you’re welcome. 

I am an apprehensive flyer. I will road trip anywhere, anytime with you, but flying…I like my feet on terra firma. Earth girl, through and through. Something to do with it being completely unnatural to be flying around in a metal tube – although, ironically, it’s all the laws of nature that make it possible to fly. Take off and landing involve a few breathing exercises and meditation.

In full disclosure, the last time I flew was 2-days before 9/11. THE 9/11. *It’s been that long.*  I wasn’t all that thrilled about flying before then. Everyone has their own 9/11 story, and there are at least 2,977 people plus all of their families and friends that have unimaginably more terrible stories than mine, so I don’t want this post to be about that. But by a narrow window and a single “No thanks”, I ended up coming home on September 9th instead of September 11th. Mainly for the ridiculous reason that I wanted a day to do laundry and get my hair done before I went back to work. My flight home would not have been one of the flights, let me be clear about that. Odds are I would’ve have been grounded in Salt Lake City, completely broke at the time, which would have been terrifying not fun. But “not fun” is still alive and unharmed. However, there is still a feeling that haunts me and makes my chest tighten knowing that a single decision about some laundry made such an impact on my experience. It’s little things sometimes. On 9/11, I listened to Eric’s phone ring over and over again through the day as people who knew I’d been traveling called him to see if I was home. Including my own sister, who, when I asked her later why she’d called Eric and not me, said “I was afraid you wouldn’t answer your phone.” Because then what? Things like that make an impression. So, terra firma.

But I’d like to travel more, so frankly, I need to get the hell over it. Just breathe.

Usually, once I get in the air, I’m fine. There is an acknowledgement I give that I am no longer in control of what happens to me once my feet are off the ground, and I just have to trust – everything. I relax a little. I breath normally.  I actually like to look out the window. See the curve of the Earth. The blues and tans and greens. The places we’ve left wild and the way we humans have divided up so much into straight line grids, as if this planet doesn’t laugh at such notions every time a weather front moves through.

In one of the periods where my mind was contemplating wanting to travel, specifically to see the Reds play in St. Louis – a road trip, one of my brothers came to visit over Christmas and invited us to visit him in California, and not just show up, but really, just. show. up. He had a place to stay for us, would let us have his car to explore while we were there, and would even let Eric use his motorcycleS. Plural. My brother has nice toys. How can you not get your ass on a plan with an offer like that?!

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I was thinking about my brother this morning. Part of what brought this photo to mind beyond that it was taken at the very, very start of our trip. More accurately, I was thinking, as I got out of my car in my office parking lot, how grateful I am that I don’t take much advice. Which is a weird thing to think, I know, but I gave up normal for some Lent years ago when I still believed in God and never took up the habit again- of God or normal. Even weirder that the thought brought my brother to mind, except that my family is like that, all STRONGLY independent spirits and detrimentally self-aware.  None of us take or offer much in the way of advice – rather, we offer OBSERVATIONS.

My brother and I had some awesome conversations while I was in California – the kind where most people who don’t share your DNA just aren’t going to understand the context – and there were lots of observations. Particularly about the way my corporate thinking doesn’t fit at all into the way corporate people should think. 

About my career.

About enjoying my life.

About really spending my time and energy the way I like to spend it.  WHEN I like to spend it on such things.

A lot of observations to think about. A gratitude for not taking much of the advice I’ve been getting lately (none of which came from my brother) to be more corporate and to hide my way of thinking. Stifle myself. Keep my opinions quiet. Go with the flow. Don’t make waves. BE MORE NORMAL. Stay on the path, put on blinders. It’s funny how corporations will hire you for the way your thinking doesn’t fit in the standard size box, then spend the next few years trying to stuff you back into the standard size box. That, my friends, is an observation. Which brought me back to this picture and a quote that keeps playing through my mind:

“… the Earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road.” ~ Isak Dinesen, Out of Africa

I love that quote. And so…the picture that makes me think of the curve of the Earth, and my own road down it. 

Friends, we tend to fear the road we can’t see far down. We keep a white-knuckle grip on our blinders so we don’t have to fear change and opportunity. We can be like everyone else. Normal.

But if you aren’t willing to travel the path, to see how far the road goes, how do you know there isn’t a beautiful land on the other side of it?

Random Thursday observation for you.