The Tide Is High, Your Hope Still Floats

Pull the anchor, cut the ropes

Hey, you remember last year when I thought I figured out how to swim? And then it turned out I didn't really? Well, now I can. For reals. The combination of a kickass new coach and a really amazing book. So that's awesome. I swam 1800 meters on Friday morning. As I was working on 100 meter sets, some old guy got in the lane next to me, apparently intent on "racing" me. Every time I started a new set, he'd SHOOT off the wall and exhaust himself beating me from one end of the pool to the other. Then, when I got to the end to turn around, he'd SHOOT off that wall to beat me back to the start. It was a little annoying. And a little funny because, really? Dude, I'm just swimming laps here.

On Saturday's bike ride, I was chugging up a ginormous hill and got schooled by a couple guys on rollerblades. They breezed by in perfect sync, hands behind their backs, looking for all the world like olympic speed skaters out for a Saturday pleasure stroll. And then they took the subsequent, equally ginormous downhill section like the proverbial bat out of hell. Seriously, how do you even DO that? What if you hit a rock? There's no coming back from that.

I slept for eleven solid hours last night. I think my packed weekly schedule catches up to me on Saturday nights and by 10pm I'm done for. I woke up this morning feeling rested and THAT hasn't happened in, oh, a month.

March looks like it's going to be even busier than February was. I'm going to be volunteering at a local sports complex to raise some money for my fundraising this season. I think I've pretty much tapped out asking friends and family for donations, so I'm trying to find some alternatives. This particular venture might end up being more trouble than it's worth, but I'm giving it a shot.

Speaking of March - tomorrow is March. How is that even possible?

I Have No Words.

(ok, maybe a few)

No words to explain why it's mid-February and I'm just now posting for the first time since December. Or why I'm pretty much never, ever home anymore. Or how much I'm looking forward to these next few months. Or what exciting things are coming up later this year. Or how, bit by bit, I'm trying to nudge my life in a new/different/better/harder direction.

I don't really want to lay it all out there just yet. But it'll unfold. It always does.

It's good to be back.

Accumulated Snowfall Forecast Through Dec. 26th

Note: I am supposed to fly to central Nebraska on Christmas Eve.


Shit.

Linus And Lucy

and Dante.

Surviving the World is one of my daily go-to sites. The author, Dante, teaches lessons of life, love and whatnot via good, old-fashioned chalkboard.

A recent post read thusly:

Things Only Experience Will Teach You

No matter how classic they are, the dance moves from the "Charlie Brown Christmas" special will never look cool in real life.

If you've never seen the movie, here is the clip mentioned above.

And here is Dante's supplemental video proving his claim:

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

like a techno-music-pounding record, baby, right round round round

I tried a spin class for the first time tonight and Ho. Lee. Crap. That class is INSANE. Insane in a good, I Just Left A Pool Of Sweat On The Floor, kind of way. It has been six months since I've done any sort of cycling and, as was starkly confirmed this evening, running on flat surfaces doesn't do squat for your quads. Five minutes into the hour-long class, as the super-intense size 0 instructor shouted commands across the darkened room over the pounding dance beats, I knew I was in for a hell of a ride.

Any sort of seated spinning was no problem. I could "sprint" to my marathon-conditioned-heart's content. But then the she-dev...instructor started hollering out things like "Up! Down! Up! Down! CLIMB CLIMB CLIMB CLIMB COME ONNNNNNNN!" And in the midst of all this, she would call out different resistance levels to set the bike to, which ranged from 1 (why are you even here?) to 10 (can't even turn the pedals if I jump on them). She never called out anything lower than a 3.

As we "climbed a hill" (GO GO GO! EIGHT! COME ON! IF YOUR HEART'S NOT POUNDING YOU'RE NOT WORKING HARD ENOUGH!), with the sweat literally pouring off my face and my quads screaming below me, all I could think was: why haven't I done this before!?

My Dad Is Awesome

I still laugh every time I think about it.

So I was talking to my parents last night, getting the update on their very busy weekend. Near the end of our conversation, my mom mentioned that they had received their annual Christmas gift of homemade caramels from our good friends the Kahles.

Mom: And this year we got some homemade grape jelly, too, from their grapevine trellis thing in their backyard. (side note: the Kahle's backyard is unlike any backyard you have ever witnessed in your life. It is an oasis of magnificence.)

Me: Wow, they have grapevines out there now?

Mom: Yeah, I guess so.

Pops: Seems like such a shame to waste perfectly good grapes on grape jelly.

Me: Why, what would you do with a bunch of grapes?

Pops: Man, you have to wait.

Confused? See here.

From his Mitch All Together album, which you can listen to here. (maybe not at work, though - language and whatnot)

On The Twelfth K Of Christmas,

I crossed the finish line.

Today was the first annual 12k's of Christmas run. It was held at the park where some friends and I usually do our weekly long runs, so we just did the race today instead. The weather was perfect for running and holiday spirit was definitely in the air. Every participant got a Santa hat to wear during the race and there were carolers at every kilometer marker - a nice change from the usual Saturday morning running routine and a great little taste of Christmas out here in the desert.

Oh, and if I had been competing in the 70-75 age group, I totally would have won my division. ;)