Friday, May 16, 2014

Stubborn.

Subtitle: I always think I know best. I might be bossy, or have certain control issues.

I have a serious stubborn streak. (This is not news to my husband.) Don't tell me I can't do something. Don't suggest something would work better. Don't take a route that I think is slower. Don't hint that the way that I've been doing something is the wrong way, or that it could be done better. 90% of the time, I won't listen to you, I won't try your way, I won't back down.

For instance, I stubbornly believed I could only run in Nike Zoom Structures for four years, buying the same exact model three years in a row. The first pair I bought in the store. The second I found on clearance at Nordstrom rack. The third came from Zappos, and the last pair, a model that was two years out of date, came from an exhaustive search that ended at e-bay (but they were pink. My first pink running shoes. I shed a tear that I wouldn't be finding another pair the next year.)

From left to right: I had two of the first pair and second pairs that were identical to the ones pictured. The middle pink pair were my last Nikes, sniff. The fourth pair are the evil shoes I just retired, and the last pair are my newest hope.


This year, I decided I had to go away from my Nikes. So I went to the sporting good store and bought what I thought was the best pair of shoes. I sort of let the sales person help me, but mostly I just went off of what I thought was best, and ended up with some Brooks Adrenaline. They were pink and felt good in the store, so I figured I had succeded in moving away from my Nikes.

The shoes were okay for about a week. Then my right calf started aching after every run, which made my knee ache (I cannot explain how calf and knee pain go together, but whatever. They did.) Then I got a blister on the very tip of my left big toe; not a regular, easily treated blister, but a swelling just under the surface that made every barefoot step like a little bee sting. It took two months for that to go away. Meanwhile, still I have the annoying aching. And 5 miles into a run, my toes on my right foot would go numb. But still I remained stubbornly sure that they were weren't the problem, because the idea of the shoes fits the belief I have of what kind of running shoes are best for me.

I started dreading putting my shoes on. Finally this week I decided I had enough. This morning, shortly after they opened, I went to a running store I've never tried before. The nice Chinese man who owned the store watched me walk, asked what I've been running in, and then declared I needed a neutral shoe (there are three kinds of running shoes: neutral, neither support or cushion, but in the middle, stability, which I've always worn, which keep feet from pronating, and cushion, which, you guessed it, are cushiony.) I immediately started to argue, stating the 5 years of running in my Nikes as proof that I needed a good stability shoe. "No. Try neutral." he told me, and got his very helpful assistant to bring me a pair of shoes that I planned on hating and sending back after much wise council on my part that they were altogether wrong for me.

Except...I loved them. The Brooks Ghost 6 neutral running shoe he brought me were awesome. They have a wide width, which he assured would help me avoid mid-run toe numbness. The arch supports, being much less than what I've been running with, were perfect for my left foot, which is always a nightmare to fit. They felt really cushy and good and springy and I decided that I must put my pride in my pocket and let the nice Chinese man and his assistant tell me that I was wrong in my prior belief in types of appropriate running footwear.

Believe you me, it was hard. I called in the troops (Shane) for a consult. He told me that they sounded great, the reviews were good on them, and encouraged me to trust the men and let them tell me what to do. The guilt of buying another pair of running shoes just 3 months after buying the last pair was overwhelming. The risk that they might not feel good mid-run and being non-returnable almost made me leave the store and order them on Zappos or Amazon, where a return was more likely. But, after much debate and walking around the store, I bought them.

Gulp.

I didn't hesitate to try them out today. My feet felt happier than they have in months. I am 2.5 hours post-run and my calf still feels good (I almost can't keep that sentence for fear of jinxing myself.)

I keep learning this lesson. That's its ok to let others be the expert sometimes. That I won't be hurting myself by listening to someone else. I might have a problem with pride. I might be resistant to letting letting males boss me around. (Even writing that makes me twitch and want to justify this aspect of my personality. Geesh.)

Maybe it's the very female house I was raised in. Maybe it's a lifetime of watching my mom, who very rarely lets others tell her what is best for her. Maybe it's just a human thing. It might be related to my control issues, or because I was OCD in my youth about which gymnastics leo I could wear on what day to make sure I didn't get into trouble. Or maybe, maybe, maybe.

I'm learning. The world kept spinning, even thought I did what the man told me I should do.

I might try it again sometime.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Race: Bloomsday 2014 - Serious ninja skillz

The first weekend in May has taken on a new connotation in our family: Bloomsday. Well, at least for me and Shane; the kids just think of it as the weekend we spend with our besties in Spokane.

We left last Thursday, feeling super cool because we were able to fly this year. Man, it's amazing that a one and a half hour flight can take the place of 12 hours in the car. Actually, I don't mind the drive - the part through Northern Montana and Idaho are so pretty, that it makes up for some of the drive. But at the same time: being able to spend more time with our friends and less time driving was great.

Most of the weekend was spent hanging out with our John and Mel. We ate a ton of yummy food. The kids ran around, making houses in the "forest" near their house, jumping on the trampoline, climbing trees, and playing with the dog. We had as much fun as possible.

Sunday was the race. The weather called for rain, so I wore lots of layers. Luckily, it didn't rain. The race was as beautiful as I remembered from last year. Some of my favorite moments:

  • Running past the Cathedral of our Lady of Lourdes. I anticipated the church this year, and I was excited to see the priests out on the street, waving at the crowd. (I even took a selfie with them in the background.) I have an extreme wish to one day tour the cathedral; all of the cathedrals in Italy gave me quite a love for old churches, and so I decided that whenever we travel, we will tour a church or cathedral in the area. We didn't make it this year, but maybe next.
  • Seeing the crowds of people cheering the runners.
  • The beautiful cemetery near the first water station. There are so many trees, and it just looks so peaceful.
  • Weaving in and out of so many runners. At Bloomsday, you are never, ever alone, unlike at Ragnar. I like knowing what it's like to run with 45,000 + runners.
  • Running down the hill near the river before Doomsday Hill.
  • Doomsday Hill. I never have met a hill I didn't like (well, at least once I'm on top of it.)
  • The vulture, who I suspect wasn't a real person, at the top of Doomsday Hill.
  • The bridge at the finish line. It is so pretty. With the river rushing beneath and downtown Spokane all around it - such a lively, energetic place to have the finish. Plus seeing it teeming with people as they finish the race isn't too bad, either.
  • The old man who finished the race, only to find his little wife with a cane standing next to the bridge, waiting for him. She hugged him fiercely, and then he started to cry. And then I started to cry. You could tell what an effort it had been for him, and how relieved he was. Sniff.
  • A tiny old lady, wearing running shorts and a tank top, running the race. She had to be in her late 70s. I want to be just like her when I am 70; still running, still out there, with a heathly body I can still trust to get me to the finish line.
  • Finishing with Shane, holding hands across the finish line.


So, I mentioned some awesome ninja skills that I displayed. At about mile 5.25, I was runing through a lovely downtown Spokane neighborhood. The trees were shading my way, and I was deciding that I was ready to get the show on the road and finish the race. I sped up a little. I'm not sure what happened, but I stepped off a curb (I think!) and found myself stumbling. I kept trying to pull out of it, but found I couldn't. So, I took the next option available: tucked my chin to my chest and dive rolled out of the fall. The jolt of the asphalt was lovely on my head and my butt. When I realized what had happened, I just sat there, in the middle of the road, runners streaming past me. I finally got up and started running. However, I really, really wanted to cry but was trying not to (I kept remembering the hardness of the street on my head; I hate that!) and so I promptly began to hyperventilate. I walked for a little bit until I could breathe again and then finished the race. My head was tender, my hand and knee scraped, but it could have been so much worse.

And personally, I was pretty proud of the dive roll.

It was a great race, and a great weekend. The weather held out (I didn't dare say any prayers hoping for no rain when racing on a Sunday, ha ha.) We had a great time with our friends, our kids had a great time with their friends. I can't wait to run it again next year.

Here are some pictures.




I really want to run on this path one day...It goes all the way to Couer D'Alene



Friends who sparkle together, stay together.

A girl is trying, and failing miserably, to photo bomb us in this picture. And I love the finger of the person taking it for us. I guess it's hard to find good photography in the Honey Bucket line.

See the starting line in the distance?

I just love this church!!

Selfie with the priests

People stream across this bridge for hours and hours. Amazing!

I love running with this guy.


Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Book Review: The Storied Life of AJ Fikry

I was just looking back on my blog, and it's been years since I've done a book review. I've gotten lazy, apparently. So tonight I'm going to remedy that, not just for the sake of doing a book review, but because I finished The Storied Life of AJ Fikry today and I just have to write about it.

When I started it yesterday, I thought I was reading a book Amy had reviewed and I had requested from my library: The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Frye. However, the first paragraph of The Storied Life of AJ Frikry seemed so unlike the book I remembered from the review, I had to think for a minute. Eventually I remembered reading about AJ Fikry from somewhere on NPR or Amazon...I can't remember which. Either way, I'm so glad I found this book, because I enjoyed immensely.

One of my favorite things to do when I go into someone's home is to read what books are on their shelves. It is possible to tell so much about a person if you know what they read. Plus, if they are readers, I naturally have a language to talk to them in; their reactions to certain titles tell so much about their personality and their worldview. Telling another person what your favorite book is about as honest as you can be.

AJ Fikry is the owner of a small bookstore; he has definite opinions on books and their reader. The people who come into his bookstore are interesting and real. I don't want to ruin the book by giving too much of the story away. What I loved is that it is a book about books and reading and readers. I laughed out loud at some of the quotes in it; these are some of my favorites.

"Her mother likes to say that novels have ruined Amelia for real men." (Amy and I were just texting about this last night.)

"I've never really liked babies...Conversations with her lacks to say the least. We talk about Elmo, and I can't stand him by the way, but other than that, it's mainly about her. She's totally self-centered. (Yes, children are remarkable self-centered. As are preteens, as I'm coming to find out...)

"I've always wanted to try Turkish Delight in Narnia. When I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as a boy, I used to the think that Turkish Delight must be incredibly delicious if it made Edmund betray his family....I guess I must have told my wife this, because one year Nic gets a box for me for the holidays. And it turned out to be this powdery, gummy candy. I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in my life." (I'm can totally relate to the this - I'm heartbroken to find this out - I always imagined it like some Narnian form of General Tao's chicken. Boo that it's just candy, boo!)

"'The last thing I read...the last thing I read was this menu.' 'And the last thing I read  was your necklace.' he says. 'Maria.' The meal is perfectly cordial after that. He will never find out what Maria reads."

And, my very favorite: "Sometimes books don't find us until the right time." (Because how true is that? How perfect is it to read the exact book you need at the exact point in time you need it? It has happened to me more times than I can count.)

It is a tiny little book, only 258 pages; I read it in less than 24 hours, and went to work in during those 24 hours. I loved the story, I loved the characters, I loved the way that it made me feel connected to others simply through the act of reading.