Peaches

Charlie and the Giant Peach

Yesterday I took Charlie out to Queen Creek to go peach picking. Mary didn’t want to come. Cory was sick in bed with the flu. We got a little carried away and picked about 40 pounds worth of peaches. Now what do I do? Peach cobbler. Peach smoothies. Frozen peaches. I would have made peach ice cream but it required eggs and I just can’t think about eating raw eggs – frozen or not.

Paradise by the Tiki Torch Light

I have turned into my mother. How did this happen? Last night I chaperoned the eighth grade graduation party. My daughter didn’t want to go, so she stayed home with a friend and played board games with her brothers while I went to the party. It was a great location for a party – a private home with a big lawn, basketball, volleyball, swimming pool, trampoline, table tennis (that no one used), and tiki torches.

The music was not my taste. I enjoyed “The Slide” and watching the kids dance to that, but the other stuff, well, it was too hard core for me. I remember my mother complaining about The Eagles “… I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight with a billion stars all around.” I thought they were, you know, sleeping. Not “sleeping“. My mother thought differently. The music last night left little to the imagination.

And then there were the teeny tiny itsy bitsy bikinis barely clinging to the supple 14 year old girls. Each one believing she was “all that”. When they started shaking on the dance floor in their bikinis, another chaperone took exception. Her description of their efforts to evade her insistence that they put their clothes on was somewhat amusing. I remembered wearing hip huggers and a halter top to school. I thought I was “all that”.

Tonight my daughter asked me if I ever did stuff when I was younger that caused me embarrassment later. I’m not done yet. Last night when the friend’s mother came to pick her up, while standing in my front doorway, I demonstrated a few of the “dance moves” I had seen that night at the party. A few minutes later, I saw her husband sitting in their car in the driveway with a clear view of our front door. The “Wanna get away?” commercial flashed in my head.

I think as a parent, I have to set an example for my kids. I think that kids don’t always listen to what you say, but they watch what you do. This morning as I played in the pool wearing the same bikini I bought 20 years ago I thought of this with some embarrassment. What kind of example was I setting? Perhaps they will learn to be frugal.

Fort Collins Marathon Race Report

Short Form: Colorado…CHECK!

Long Form:
Bruce and I flew up on Saturday. Excited but filled with trepidation. Neither one of us had had the training we’d hoped for due to myriad reasons. Arriving at the Denver airport, the counter clerk at Avis tried to “up sell” me to a full size car – which would give me more head room and comfort – I stuck with the sub-compact, which turned out to be a Toyota Yaris. The Yaris is a lot like the ‘Cho and I felt right at home.

When we got to the hotel in Fort Collins, a light rain had started to fall. The expo was modest, but everyone was friendly and helpful. When we got to our room, I decided to check out the results from last year. The female winner was Mercedes Gil, a local gal who would be 47 now. She ran a 3 hour marathon last year and was far and away faster than the rest of the field. There were other women in my age group who ran faster than I expected to, but not a whole bunch of them. Depending on who showed up, I could be competitive. I went downstairs and asked if Mercedes was running this year. She was not. I tried not to freak myself out getting concerned with competition. I wasn’t in shape to be competitive.

The rain grew heavier and colder. I wondered if we would find ourselves at the start in the snow. I decided not to bring my camera with me. I didn’t sleep well. I never do before a marathon. But thank God for podcasts. I listened to queued up episodes of the Wall Street Journal Tech Briefing. I knew 3:15 AM would come awfully early – especially since it was really 2:15 Phoenix time.

When the alarm went off, there was a very light drizzle outside. We drove to the busses that left from near the finish line. I had looked up the race on Marathon Maniacs and there were supposed to be six to eight Maniacs in this race. Turns out, Bruce and I, both Maniacs, were seated with two other Maniacs on the bus. It was fun chatting as we drove through the darkness to the start.

The start was cold, but it wasn’t raining at all and it wasn’t too cold. Bruce and I got separated, but I found myself talking to other women who wanted to run about four hours. One of them, Rachael, would run with me for almost the entire first half of the race. She’s from Denver and spent her college years playing soccer. She was very nice. The scenery was beautiful. A raging river off to my left, mountains going up both sides of the canyon we were running through. Clear, crisp blue sky. Rachael kept saying she was going to slow down, but she never did. She ended up finishing ten minutes ahead of me. I was feeling good, but I didn’t want to pay for running too fast later. My first half was 1:56. Including three minutes in porta potty lines. TMI?

The Colorado Marathon at Fort Collins has a marathon, half marathon and 5K all run on the same course at the same time. The bib numbers were different colors, but bibs were worn on the front, so without being able to see the numbers, I kept wondering when we would come upon some half marathoners.

At about half way, I met Norma. She was a local mom, 43, running her first ever marathon. She was easy to talk to and we held a strong pace. It felt really good running with her. Like running with Susie on days when we are both in the groove and just stretch it out. Her family cheered for her at mile 16, then drove ahead to cheer for her later.

At about mile 17, I passed Bruce. He can write his own race report.

Then there was a hill. An uphill. Norma walked. I kept powering through it. At the top, I wanted to puke. The nausea reminded me of being pregnant. I didn’t like it. I wondered if it was the altitude taking affect on me. We ran through a park with a river for most of the last 10K. At one point, we ran over a long bridge that shook like a suspension bridge. The experience exacerbated my nausea.

Norma got a pacer. She was going to be very close to a BQ. At mile 22, she was just 30 seconds off pace. Norma and her pacer went on ahead. I was unable to keep up. I was digging deep. My muscles were screaming at me. Every step made the one spot I neglected to lube with Vaseline stab with pain. I wanted to throw up. And I would have if I thought it would help, but I feared that once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. One step at a time. Noiseless steps. Don’t drag that right foot even though the hamstring was a mess. I really must go back to physical therapy.

I tried to say encouraging things to the people I passed or who passed me. Another woman had a spry, fit looking pacer who said to both of us “You can do this! Just one mile left! Anybody can run a mile! ANYBODY!” I know that isn’t true. Not everybody can run a mile. But I could. And I would finish as strong as I possibly could. I did not want to be passed in the last mile by some woman who would place and I wouldn’t. I didn’t mind if I finished like Friesan Fire, but I didn’t want to do it in the last mile.

After we passed mile 26, we turned for the finish. It seemed to take forever. Suddenly, there was a woman next to me and she was accelerating. “Not today!” I said to myself and I kicked it into high gear. I prayed the race would end before I threw up. She gave up pretty easily and suddenly she wasn’t there anymore. I kept running as strong as I could all the way across the finish line. I finished in 3:55, which was just what I thought I would run.

A kind young man wanted to take off my chip. I said “Only if I can hang on to you.” He asked if I was ok. “Yeah” I answered, hoping that I wouldn’t throw up on him has he got my chip. I got my finisher’s medal and it sure looks nice. I grabbed a water bottle and walked back up the course to try to find Bruce. I found him at about 25.8 and ran in with him to the finish. We found the posted results and learned I was second in my age group.

And Colorado is in the books.

Fort Collins

This is such a pretty little town. I love college towns. But it’s pretty cold. And raining. Should be in the low 30s at the start. A few years ago there was 5 feet of snow at the start! We won’t have that this year, but I won’t be at all surprised to see some snow at the start. I won’t take the camera because I don’t want it to get ruined. I hope we can stay on the bus at the start. It will be what it will be. My 16th marathon.

Busted

I feel like crap. I betrayed the trust of the little piano player and I am not sure he will trust me again. Maybe this time I learned my lesson.