Tapering

I've been so consumed the last few weeks with starting my new job and dealing with all the stuff that comes with ending one chapter of your life and opening another that I haven't really given much thought to the fact that we are now officially tapering. (My new job is great so far. It's at WestEd, an educational research organization here in SF.) And now that I am more or less settling in there (read: can now find my desk without getting lost after going to the bathroom), I am starting to get itchy and nervous.

This past weekend, we went down to LA to visit some friends from Germany who were in town. I ate a lot of meat and lounged on the beach quite a bit. I did manage to get some HOT training in. We did a 45 minute run in the 95 degree heat. It was just enough to remind me how much the heat affects me, so that wasn't terribly encouraging. Yesterday I swam for only 20 minutes, per the training schedule.

I keep thinking I'm going to get out of shape, gain weight, or forget how to ride my bike. It's strange how difficult it is to NOT workout. But, I have done all the hard work already, and I can't cram for the race, like I would for an exam. So I guess all I can do is go along for the rollercoaster of a ride that my mind likes to take me on.

Success!

We had an amazing fundraising dinner on Sunday, raising $2000 for LLS. 20 of our friends joined us for a phenomenal meal.

Patrick, the executive sous chef at La Folie, along with Roman, Jason, Eric, and James helped prepare and serve an amazing meal. We started off with raw oysters and champagne and ended 6 courses later with a delightful dessert from the pastry chef at La Folie.

Kristen, our neighbor and sommelier, did an amazing job pairing a wine with each course.

And our friend Becky reminded us why we had all gathered for the evening, sharing her personal story of her battle with Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

Thanks to everyone who helped out and attended. One of the most delightful evenings I've had a in a long time!

See a few photos below.

Much love and gratitude,
Melissa

Pix from Eat, Drink, Cure Cancer

The lovely table and our guests at the San Francisco Wine Center





















Chris and James enjoying some wine and attending to our guests.
















Patrick shares with us a bit about each delicious course.

Kristen talks with us about each wine.

Proof

Faster or Poor Counter?

I am a terrible counter. It's an embarrassing problem to have for a 30-something-year-old, I admit. I must have missed a good solid 5 months from preschool when we learned to count. I can never remember what lap I am on in the pool. Don't ask me to count cups of flour or sugar when baking. And never give me a the bill at a restaurant and a stack of bills to count. I will always get it wrong. Sure, I can remember tiny details from 1986, spell really hard words, make an mean Excel spreadsheet, or bake a billion biscuits in 12 minutes flat, but counting -- it is my Achilles heel.

On Wednesday at our track workout, we did a 2-mile time trial. We did a similar trial about 14 weeks ago when we started training. Last night, we repeated it to see how much we had improved. 2 miles involves 8 laps around the track, and more importantly, counting to 8. I started off strong, counting 1, 2, 3, 4. I'm half way there. My pace seemed good and consistent for each lap, about 2:15. Then as I started to do the calculations about what my overall time would be, I started to feel unsure if I was on lap 5 or 6. This is how it always goes. I start to doubt the count. And then I forget where I started doubting, and then I'm completely at a loss as to what number I am on.

Using my brilliant coping skills developed after years of being counting-challenged, I just ran and ran and ran until most people in my group stopped. Assuming I wasn't lapped by these folks, which is actually a big assumption, I *probably* ran all 8 laps. I looked at my watch and saw 17:40. My heart sunk. I must have miscounted and only ran 7 laps. 14 weeks ago, I did the 2-miler in 19:40. No way I could have improved that much. Crap. I did get lapped.

But then I started to use my excellent multiplication skills. If I averaged about 2:15 a lap, that's 18 minutes for a 2 miler. . . . So maybe I did do all 8 laps! Wait, not only did I actually do all 8 laps, I did it in less than 18 minutes. And more significantly, I improved my time by 2:00! Woohoo!

So, I officially ran an 8:50/mile, which for me is completely unheard of. I am slow, always have been. For me, breaking the 9 min/mile barrier is the equivalent of breaking the sound barrier or the time-space continuum.

I'm still in a bit of disbelief. I kept the 17:40 on my watch to show Chris. I even took a picture of it. I'll post it later to prove it ;-)

I'm not going to win any races anytime soon, but I'll take what I can get!

Mission Moment

On Sunday right before we were about to start swimming in the Bay for our practice triathlon, one of our mentors told us that Frankie, the brother of one of our teammates, had passed away on Friday after a long battle with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. He was only 29. I looked around me and noticed many people wiping away tears.

I've never met Frankie, and I don't think any of those other folks had met him either. But losing him was like losing one of us. It's strange. I haven't quite sorted out all of nuances of the emotions I had in that moment. I felt hopeless, helpless, guilty, honored, angry, and sad. I felt terrible that I was enjoying the beautiful 80 degree day and that his sister wasn't here with us but preparing for a funeral. I felt determined to train more for him.

I remember the practice Tri we did last season. It was cold, windy, and pouring rain. I was miserable and frozen even before jumping into the bay. And as we waited to swim, some yelled out "Be thankful to be here." Now more than ever, I am thankful to be here, will take inspiration from Frankie's struggles, and am glad that I am able to do something, even if it's very small, to battle blood cancers for people who cannot.

Definitions of Fun

Yesterday we did our coached run workout in the Presidio. As one of our coaches mentioned, this is the time in the season when you start to get burnt out physically and emotionally. We have 2 weeks to peak training for Wildflower and 6 weeks for Maui. There's still a lot of work to be done.

So in order to keep us motivated, the coaches invented what they call a "fun game." Basically it involved splitting us into 5 teams and assigning us a color. Then we had to run a fairly steep but short hill circuit, followed by 20 sit-ups or 10 push-ups. As a "reward" we were given a peanut M&M in our assigned color, which we couldn't even eat. We had to carry it (and btw, it does melt in your hands when you're sweaty and running) while we did another hill loop. Then we dropped it in our team cup, proceeded to do another 20 sit-ups or 10 push-ups, and run another loop. Over and over and over and over. The team with the most M&M's "won."

So this ridiculous "game" got me to thinking about definitions of fun. I'd have to say the above game qualifies as NOT Fun. But over the last two years I do have to say my definitions of fun have shifted pretty radically.

OK, somethings will always be fun:

• napping
• eating cheese
• traveling in Italy
  

And something will never be fun:

• the dentist
• taxes
• jellyfish stings
• clowns (really and truly, what is so fun about them?!)

But here are some things that have sort of nudged their way into sort-of-kinda-fun-if-done-with-the right-attitude-and-some-friends-along-the-way:

• Swimming in Aquatic Park
• Riding my bike down a hill (going up doesn't yet qualify)
• Spending 4 months working out on Saturday and Sunday mornings
• Running 6 miles
• Wearing spandex
• Jello wrestling
  

Who knows what the rest of this Year of the Rat will hold in terms of fun!