Michigan Mayhem

I put mayhem in the title simply to grab your attention.

After a visit with my mom (Barry changed the mower's oil and blade, so I christened the machine by giving the back lawn a fine shaving), Barry and I drove to Benton Harbor late Saturday.

Early Sunday morning, we headed to Jean Klock park, the site of the start/finish/transition of the Steelhead Half Ironman August 19, 2012. We have come to realize our preparation for each increasingly difficult event falls short of the necessary. Today we are beginning to correct our lackadaisical approach by riding the 56 mile bike route.

At this point, it might be helpful for you to know I have not ridden more than 39 miles.

Ever.

Experts caution to increase workouts by no more than 10%/week.

Hmmm...10% of 39 is 3.9. 43 miles. NOT 56. 56 is 17 miles more than 39.

50%

Also, there's the small matter of my two-day-ago bike crash (see previous blog).

BUT, I'm in Michigan, and I'm determined.

I also have two packets of biofreeze in my jersey.

I will use both.

Not on crash injuries.

On my sitting glutes.

Ow, ow, ow-de-ow!

SERIOUSLY.

Have you watched the Tour de France? Those people ride ENDLESSLY. The Wall Street Journal featured some huge bike event across Iowa - 80 miles/day, 500 miles or so?

How do they do it?? They must have butts of steel.

I cannot emphasize this enough:

OW, OW, OW-DE-OW!

Aside from my suffering bottom, the ride was lovely. The shore is beautiful - sand and endless lake. The park has outside showers and facilities, tables, beach, shelter. GORGEOUS.

We biked on one main road, with glimpses of the lake and pretty homes - a little busy, but a very wide shoulder.

The other roads wound through the countryside by blueberry fields, vineyards, and farmhouses. We were serenaded by rural Michigan sounds - roosters, tractors, cows, gunshots...

Yes, I pedaled faster...

But not as fast as when a dog charged and made a chomping grab for my leg.

I need that to be a repetitive part of race motivation.

bark snarl bark...pedal pedal pedal...

I was pleased with my effort, except for three terrible hills in the second half when I was reduced to eight struggling miles per hour. The wind destroyed the fun of the downhills, but one cannot go on a bike ride without wind, warmth, and rough road, so all good.

I have to work hard the next three weeks, or I won't be able to run the half marathon after that ride.

But for now...ah...icing my knees and enjoying a glass of vino we picked up on the way home.

I love Michigan!

Midwesterner Again

So, I am no longer a Midwesterner living in Miami.

I’m a Midwesterner living in the Midwest.

Kind of takes the kick out of the blog.

Nothing funny or blog-worthy will ever happen to me again.

Well….

As anyone recently trapped in a conversation with me will verify, I am training for an Ironman.

I can’t seem to help mentioning it…

a lot…

… along with all the gory, gritty, grimacing training details.

I’m sorry.

Consider this a blanket apology covering my articulations, both written and verbal, from November 4, 2011 to November 10, 2012. The race is November 3, and I give the 10th to allow for the post-event euphoria to dissipate to a reasonable level.

I’m especially chatty under the influence of endorphins.

An Ironman triathlon is 2.4-mile open water swim, 112-mile bike ride, and 26.2 mile run.

In order to survive this, training is essential. I’m currently doing about 15 hours/week of swim, bike, run, and “functional training” (strength, stretch, abs).

I gained some perspective on this effort from an unexpected encounter.

Perspective and four enormous bruise/scrapes.

I am learning to ride in the aero position – where the cyclist has his elbows on pads centered on the bar. I’m taking it slowly, 10 miles at a time, and I am pleased with my progress. I anticipated balance issues, but after a few practices around a small parking lot, I moved onto the circular road in a nearby forest preserve. It is a 1.5-mile track with a bike lane, very limited traffic, some good curves and a gradual uphill to practice bike control.

Slow, slow, a bit faster, faster, full speed.

Woo hoo.

Early in yesterday’s trek, I passed a cross-country squad, running on the left of the single lane road.

On lap five, I saw them again, still grouped on the left. A biker flanked them – for pace or protection – on the open road side. I was going about 16 mph, so moved over to pass on right.

They made a sharp turn into a parking area. The biker moved into my path.

I yelled “ON YOUR RIGHT!” but….

CRASH.

Ow.

I clearly remember my hip and elbow smacking the pavement, followed by the crack of my helmet.

ALWAYS wear a helmet!

You never know when the unexpected will occur. That’s why it is UNEXPECTED. Without a helmet, my head would be Humpty-Dumptied. Instead, after a few minutes of nausea and a careful exploration of the range of motion of my elbow and shoulder, I was able to get up and walk (hobble) away with the help of the team's coach.

Turns out, this guy was a three time Ironman Wisconsin finisher. As we chatted, he said he encourages the girls to enjoy training. Athletes spend hours training for one event. If something happens at that event – an injury, bike failure, extreme heat, rain – the athlete is disappointed, but should not look at the preparation as time lost, but time enjoyed.

Wow.

The Ironman will take me between 15 (optimistic, perfect) to 17 (that’s all rules allow) hours.

Conservatively, I will spend 500 hours training.

At 7 a.m., when I did my eight mile run, I realized I would not be out on the beautiful Lake County forest preserve trail if I wasn’t training. I would not have seen how the one-inch rain yielded a foot of prairie plant growth. I saw bluebirds, yellow finches, woodpeckers, red-winged blackbirds – and a majestic heron that rose from the pond to fly low over my head. Bunnies, geese, frogs, flowers, ponds…

I am blessed by this process and resolve to enjoy my swims, bikes, and runs. I am seeing beautiful places and meeting fun, supportive people. What a grace!

Be at peace, enjoy the path of your day, and…

WEAR YOUR HELMET!

Day 2: London

Luckily we came to Europe prepared.

We each had an umbrella.

You can forgot your underwear, toothbrush, or (gasp) Rick Steves' guidebook...but do NOT forget your umbrella!

London and Paris were both showery and cool.

The cool weather didn't bother us. In Miami, summer is in full swing - and that means heat and humidity (in case you had no clue as to the origin of the NBA team name!). It was a nice break.

It is easier to walk and tour when not broiling in the hot sun. Today's rain was torrential, so we flipped our plans to an inside venue: The British Museum.

After that visit and future explorations in Paris and Rome, we are left with one conclusion: there is no reason to visit Egypt. Nothing is left. Between the British, French, and ancient Roman emperors, it has all been moved to Europe.
It's fascinating to see the Egyptian sculptures and stone panels. I cannot imagine how these items were transported from Egypt to Britain without damage - they are HUGE! Weighing TONS! Made of STONE! We have moved seven times and always have some breakage. The Mayflower movers of the 18th and 19th centuries knew their packing protocols.

For lunch, we dashed through the rain to the Menier Chocolate Factory joining my high school friend, David Bedella. David is an amazing actor currently performing in Road Show a Stephen Sondheim musical. The restaurant is located next to the theatre, and below the rehearsal space. We were able to see the rehearsal set up (up a long narrow flight of stairs, of course!) and other working areas. It was special to see David outside of a class reunion.

To our surprise, the rain stopped! We were able to take the Rick Steves city walk. I am a BIG fan of Rick Steves, especially after this trip. His books are more readable and usable than the usual travel guide fare. This walk began on London Bridge and ended in Covent Garden, where we were mildly entertained by a street performer who escaped from a cellophane body wrap.

We decided to take a bus from Covent Garden to Harrod's. Harrod's is a large, famous department store in London. Its famous motif?

Egyptian!

I was surprised by the large food counters selling speciality items of candy, caviar, duck, and other such gourmet fare. We took the...stairs!...no, they had ESCALATORS!...up to see the Princess Diana and Dodi al Fayed Memorial. The Fayed family owns Harrod's.

Back in Kensington, we stopped for our requisite tourist dinner experience: Fish and Chips! Chris is legal in Europe, so here he is enjoying his first pint (or so we believe!) I haven't had that much fried food in a while, but it was deliciously, greasily decadent.

I figure the Stairmaster Tube and Tour experience will take care of the calories, no problem!

The Great Baker European Adventure: Day 1, London

As shocking as it may seem (at least to us!), Barry and I turn 50 this year.

Wow.

To celebrate, we decided on a trip to Europe - and Kayla and Chris were able to come with us, an added bonus.

Amy (our 25 year old) is traveling through Europe on her own for a month. She's staying with friends, in hostels, and joining up with her cousin Serena for part of the journey.

On our first day in London, we learned two important interconnected facts.

The first: London is old.

Much older than the United States, if you can believe it. The roads are narrow, the buildings are tightly packed, and theyoften have year markers dating back for hundreds of years. The age thing is amazing. You are walking, driving, and spitting (not me, the other ugly American tourist) where people have done similar such things for centuries.

Many things have old, funky names. For example, we rode the "Tube" - Piccadilly line - to begin our adventure. Piccadilly, Piccadilly, Piccadilly. How often do we get to say funny words for perfectly legitimate reasons?

We passed a shop called "The Cheeky Fox". The window displayed several cute outfits. I don't want to shop anymore in Macy's (stores 1 - 5,667)...I want to shop at "The Cheeky Fox". OR the "Boots and Thongs". I think this was a leather goods store (as in shoes) but we chose not to explore, just in case.

Second: London (and Paris and Rome) are old, and as such require something different than touring America...

Strength and endurance!

This is NOT a vacation for the couch potato.

Due to the narrow streets, most citizens use public transportation. The system is easy to use with reasonable costs. We planned (and did) use public transportation in all cities except for one airport taxi ride. After viewing London drivers from the relative safety of our double decker bus (the driver moved that bus like it was a smart car - cutting in, cutting out, honking...it was CRAZY), we would STRONGLY recommend public transportation or taxis. London is bursting with taxis. The taxi drivers train for two years by riding a bicycle with clipboard/maps attached, memorizing routes in and around the city. Until they know all those routes, they cannot be certified as a taxi driver.

As a family of four with one child still to be put through college, we opted not to use taxis. I studied each metro service, and had transportation plans from arrival to departure.

In Heathrow, we cheerfully made our way to the well-marked Tube station.

The escalator up to the platform (40 stairs?) was broken.

Still cheery and full of first day optimism, we each hauled our 35 pound suitcase up to the train. Unbeknownst to us, the non-functioning escalator was a sign of things to come (more specifically, stairs to come!)(and come)(and come).

There is a reason you do not see many overweight people in cities dependent on mass transit. At least old cities. Stairs are de rigueur. While I am sure they must have some handicap arrangements, we did not often see options other than stairs, and saw several people with crutches negotiating the ups and downs of the multiple staircases that marked crossing lines within a station.

Kayla and I have been doing the "Insanity" exercise program this summer, which consists mostly of various ways of squatting, lunging, and jumping. I am still running 3 - 5 miles three times/week.

I was exhausted. Between the tube station stairs and the museum stairs, my legs were screaming for mercy. The Tower of London should read "towerS" with nice medieval staircases up and around and down (don't miss the Tower - one stands in history. It is an amazing feeling).

All in all, in each of our three city tour (London, Paris, Rome), we dragged those stinking suitcases up and down a crazy number of stairs. Then our daily activities took us in and out of museums, churches, historical sites, and the cities' metro stations - all with multiple staircases and long, long walks.

Thus began our great adventure - we loved almost every minute...and I will share most of them with you!;)

Finnished with Stieg Laarson

I know the story is set in Sweden.

I'm working on catchy blog titles.

Obviously, I need to work harder.

In the blog post, Should I read Books 2 and 3, I shared my disappointment with the first Laarson novel, The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo. I thought the descriptions were flat and tedious. BUT, encouraged by a number of blog readers, I decided to finish out the trilogy, reading The Girl Who Played with Fire and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.

I enjoyed these books more than Dragon Tattoo. When I started Played with Fire, I almost quit and returned it unread to the library. In book two, Laarson again begins with didactic description of another journalistic investigation - after I had the jist, I started the skimming. I thought, "I'll be done with this book in an hour!"

Three hours later, I was exhausted from pushing myself to read...and had to stop to make dinner.

Once into the "action" scenes, Laarson uses his intriguing character, Lisbeth Salander, to lead the plot into fairly intriguing, if nearly implausible, situations. Oh, yes, he still bogs down the writing with unnecessary detail - for example, Lisbeth has to furnish her apartment. She goes shopping at IKEA. We get to read (if we don't SKIM, SKIM, SKIM) about EVERY STINKING item she buys at IKEA.

Since I have personally bought furniture at IKEA, and helped Amy furnish her apartment 100% IKEA, I was familiar with each item, even with their odd names (BESTÅ ÅDAL, MALM, EKTORP, KIVIK). Despite my ability to summon a vision of each piece...I did NOT need this much information.

Even with these trips into unnecessary and cumbersome detail ( I should know - I drag you through unnecessary and cumbersome detail in each blog post), the story picks up steam and becomes exciting and engrossing. The second book does not have an ending...one MUST read the third novel.

Hornet's Nest is the best of the three books. The story occasionally stalls, but now accustomed to Laarson's writing style, I quickly pick these out and skim through. I enjoyed it - left with some confusion regarding the Swedish justice system and court practices (very casual and tangential), but happy with the triumphant conclusion and the way Laarson tied up all the story lines.

I will recommend these books to you - but only as a borrowed or library read, and with the caveat that if you feel bogged down in detail, remember to skim. You won't miss what you don't read, I promise.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

Cat Capers has taken a dark turn.

As you read in "Swimming Cat update", I'm swimming and the cat was doing quite well with the new indoor-outdoor routine.

I was feeling a little smug.

My house didn't stink. The cat was calm. My bite wounds healed with only moderate scarring. All was good.

Tuesday about 3 a.m., Paco meowed to go out. I let him out and stumbled back to bed.

At 3:30 a.m., I heard barking, screeching and yowling, and I KNOW that yowl (many nights of pre-outdoor cat-begging to go out noise).

I shot out of bed and ran out front. Two dogs were attacking Paco, who lay unconscious on the grass while one dog dragged him away by the leg.

I yelled, the dogs scattered, and I scooped up Paco and brought him inside.

Paco regained his senses after a few minutes, but was having trouble swallowing and walking.

In the morning, we took him to the vet, where he stayed the night after his wounds were treated:




Wow. Poor Paco.

Tuesday evening, a neighbor from down the street came over with flyers.

Apparently a gang of three dogs has been terrorizing the neighborhood cats (large feral colony and many pets, out like Paco for a nightly roam). SIX cats had been killed. They had caught the dogs on video during one of the attacks.

Since only 15 minutes before, I visited the neighbors' house and accused THEIR dog of the attack, I was conflicted about this news. GREAT. There goes the neighbor-of-the-year award.

It's time for me to MOVE OUT of MIAMI (or be run out).

Paco is recovering nicely, thanks for asking. He moves slowly, but did sit on the porch (screened and locked) for about an hour this morning, eating and drinking well.

I guess I'm keeping him in from now on - what I will do when he returns to health and his bad behaviors, I do not know, because I feel guilty enough to take quite a bit of aggravation for a while.

Swimming cat update

I admit it - the headline is disingenuous.

This blog refers to two previous blogs - one in which I survive my notorious cat attack (Cat Capers) and another describing my attempts to revise my swimming technique via a book called "Total Immersion" (All I need is a Book)

I thought "swimming cat update" might warrant a few more clicks than "Swimming/cat update".

Cute animal videos go viral all the time - you know you'd click the Youtube link to see a swimming cat.

The fact is, if we were as callous as those amateur videographers sometimes seem, we could have a video of a swimming cat.

Paco (our cat) likes to drink out of the swimming pool. He crouches on the edge, leans waaayyy over, and laps away. About four weeks ago, the pool level was lower than and he thought and ....splash!

Chris was outside at the time, so immediately performed pet rescue without first reaching for his camera.

Good for you Christopher!

I hate to admit it, but wonder if I wouldn't have put off rescue for at least one cute (horrible) swimming cat photo.

The swimming SLASH cat update now:

The cat outside experiment has been working fairly well. Paco typically hangs out in the backyard area from 3 - 5 p.m., wanders until 8 p.m., comes home to sleep for a few hours, wants back out at 11 p.m., then comes home for breakfast and a longer sleep.

The other evening when he didn't come home at 8 p.m., I went out looking. I found him - being chased around the neighbor's house and then cat-fighting. He didn't have too many scratches, so I think the ninja acumen he demonstrated attacking me must be quite effective against the neighborhood feral cat colony.

My husband noticed less cats hanging in the area - he thinks Paco is dominating and they are slinking off to new grounds.

I think he's delusional - it's all about the time of day. At 5:30 a.m. (Miami heat is on, so if I want to run, gotta get up and get moving), 12 cats languished on my neighbor's lawn and driveway.

The neighbors are more philosophical about this than I - "At least we don't have rats anymore!"

Don't worry - as appealing as a RAT tangent might be, I'll stay on topic.

We went to the condo in Clearwater for spring break - nine days. Paco and Aiden (dog) accompanied us.

Paco was a different cat. He slept 22/24 hours, wanted affection, no spraying, ate big dinners and cleaned himself until he glowed.

Like a teenager without his peers, Paco is a pussy cat when removed from the cat-gang infested land we call "home".

As to the pool activity -

My Total Immersion swimming is going well. I can swim 45 minutes without much effort. I am trying now to learn how to breathe to my left (I've always only turned to right). This doesn't sound hard, but it is apparently more than simply turning my head to that side. I thrash, I swallow water, I struggle. Last week, I had a breakthrough and was able to breathe left and right during a few laps.

Does anyone know how to keep water out of the ears - other than earplugs? They would be dangerous during an open water swim race.

Hooray for me - and if you are not RIVETED and THRILLED with the time you put into reading this BREAKING NEWS - sorry - no refunds allowed.