yoga

Just a walk in the (snowy) park this morning.  I've decided that I'm not going to run again until February, for real, but that's not what this post is about. 

My yoga practice has been suffering for too long.  I've studied yoga on and off for well over ten years.  It doesn't require much time, nor more than a floor and gravity, all of which have been available in every single domicile, temporary and almost-permanent, thus far.   There is no absolutely no reason for me to not do yoga.  I've been to a gazillion classes; I can, at the very least, roll out of bed and pull a decent 10-minute wake-up routine out of my ass while half asleep (this is what I have been working on lately, but due to low motivation, it's been easy to eschew).

At times, I've gotten into a totally cool groove, going to classes regularly, or doing videos or routines at home (for a while, I was even studying from a book by Rodney Yee).  And then I've moved or gone on a trip....

So, anyway, I'd like to announce that my new yoga square one is Yoga by Candace.

I first found her via this video when looking for gentle hip-targeted routines.  I do the more exigent* yin poses like cow face pose in front of the TV, but I wanted a routine with more movement too, but nothing too strenuous.  Google eventually led me to Candace.  I like the routines I've tried so far, I like her presence and voice (I'm picky about voice when it comes to yoga videos), and I feel an extra connection to her because she uses 'totally' as a superlative, which is totally up my alley too.

15 minute morning yoga

* this is actually a word in English, not just French!  TOTALLY rad!

an extra-dimensional dog-like run

Yeah, so I broke my no-running-until-February resolution again.   Beach runs and snow runs are just too tempting.  And I can't pass up a chance to use my goretex winter running shoes.  I got them in 2011, I think (maybe even 2010), and I've used them only a handful of times.  They're too heavy and stiff for most things, but they're great for snow.

Turns out running all the time in sand is also great for snow.  In years past, I had to adjust to a slower, sloggier pace once snow fell.  The first few minutes felt like learning to run, and it didn't always get much better than that.  Today, however, I was going down the road in a few inches of snow on the edge, waiting to step into molasses, waiting for the chickens of inefficiency to roost...nope.  There were more difficult moments later on when the drift was thicker and I was going uphill, but, for the most part, the snow was merely a smoother lighter sand.  The ice patches slowed me down more.

I was with the dog but we met my husband driving back about a 1/2 mile down the road.  The dog was doing fine but the road was a bit slushy, and my husband offered to take him for a walk.  So I ditched the dog and carried on (and the dog had much more fun having zoomies in the small forest anyway).

In the large forest, I saw some footprints, including those of a dog.  And then, after about a quarter of a mile or so, I realized that there were no other footprints anymore, just the dog's, and really a fox's, probably.  They veered off a short while later and I was on my own.  Well, not quite: there were other tracks too.  I didn't recognize the animals, but I could see that animals had been there.  This is perhaps what it's like running as a dog, smelling (or seeing) everybody who's already gone by.  Oh, yeah, uh-huh, three humans and a squirrel here.  On bare asphalt, this info is lost, but snow records it all.  I've probably written about this before, but it always beguiles me.

There were also lots of long ridges.  Some of them were collapsed, as though rodents had tunneled under the snow, but other ridges were solid.  Roots.  However, I was more worried about putting my foot in a hole.  I went more cautiously than normal, and this got mentally tiring after awhile, but it felt so gratifying to break trail.  And everything was so soft. 

At a T-intersection, I debated, long way or short way.  The long way was so tempting, especially since I could take bridle paths without many roots, but I decided to do the prudent thing.  Eventually, I rejoined tracks, met a few people including a loose dog I recognized, and exited the forest.   I wish I could've stayed in their longer.  It was kind of like this.  It took me a few tries to find a good soundtrack because most of the wintry ones were too cold...this wasn't a cold run, but a rather cozy one.


I jogged for about an hour, and then did some resistance exercises afterward.  I'm at the point now where I can do the first or second half of a chin up...I haven't actually gained any strength, but dropping nearly ten pounds since the ultra ten days ago has made things easier.  This time, I'm not sick from gluten or anything else; I still have an appetite and it feels like I've been eating plenty.   However, I've eased off the whey protein and extra snacks and general gluttony.  Maybe I got fatigued of eating as well as running!

Cold Front

Cold Front

Twenty minute jog on the beach at low tide.  Too bad I'm still recovering: the sand was flat and a great consistency, the temperature was about 10 C and sunny, and there were lots of smells for the dog.  Had I been in better shape, we could've had a near-perfect run.  Maybe next time.

And then we drove back home into deeper spring.  It got up to 20 C today.  And it's supposed to go down to -4 C tonight. 

We might even get snow.  I can't remember the last time I saw the stuff!  So I might have to bust, once again, my no-running-until-February restriction, because snow is fun.

~beach~

A cold and blustery beach is still a beach!  Miles of sand!

I reconsidered a run today, and then I reconsidered again and ran up and down for a 1/2 hour during the sunset.   Miles of sand gone to waste, but it'll be there later.  But that sunset was one of a kind.

"No more running until February at least!"

I lied.

Yesterday, I went on post, to a different gym.  This one was much smaller and I was the only woman there.  Bunch of fit guys there because it's close to aviation/SF stuff, but the atmos was still chill.  I hopped on the treadmill and put on the fones and tunes.  Total 6.? miles (I mistakenly reset the session).  10:50-40/mile felt rough for the first ten minutes or so, and I was beginning to consider ditching the workout, then I loosened up to about 8:30/mile feeling great, breathing still easy (this is a biomechanically and usually aerobically very comfortable pace for me on roads and TMs)...and then I got ambitious.    Or creative. 

I'm not used to fancy treadmills anymore; pushing the buttons and seeing the numbers change was oddly satisfying.  The going-round-the-track graphic was enthralling.  In addition, it felt good to move more quickly even though the gym was too warm and I was overdressed (thanks to the influence of the poorly-insulated change room).  Beep Beep Beep.  Plus the music was perfect.  Once again, I (butterfly) have been searching for something new, and after some searching and accommodating algorithms, I've found that sort-of prog metal suits the bill these days.  Ok!  Oh, and this gym was also close to helicopters--I couldn't hear much of the noise through my headphones, but perhaps feeling it goaded me further.  Because helicopters are exciting, no?

I found my limit.  The treadmill had a bit more oomph left, but it was starting to feel unstable: I was herding cats.   I am sort of out of shape...I have a better base now and hopefully better musculature, but I'm also heavy and slow.   I was expecting that and it's been cool, but yesterday was the first time I wanted to get out of the tank in a while.  It's not time yet, though: I would love to have a solid gluten-free month or two, and put a bit more in the muscle bank before I consider trimming down. 

Although I've had a bit of a headstart: I didn't seem lose any discernible weight during the ultra because I was drinking and eating fine, but shortly after DOMS wore off about two days later, I suddenly dropped about five pounds.  Guess there was a lot of repair going on.

We're at the beach now and I may run on it tomorrow.

No time is the wrong time

For space rock opera.  Last night, I was wandering alone in the darkness, with just a cranky yellow-tinged moon and a sputtering cold white flashlight for illumination.  My spirits sunk exceedingly low.  And then my stalwart mp3 player coughed up Muse's Exogenesis Symphony.  I hadn't paid much heed to it before, but it swept me out of the black hole.

Admittedly, I'm not intellectually keen on exogenesis: scientifically, as the basis for the origins of life, it doesn't seem to fly*, and as an enterprise that would bail us out of a destroyed future Earth, it would chiefly be a repopulation of the hubris and greed that led us to that desecration in the first place (although, it would be cool to visit Mars because the landscape there is stunning, but could I accept the ethical ramifications of being a space tourist?)....anyway, exogenesis isn't convincing, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate its inspired art and hours of contemplation.  And I enjoyed both two nights ago in the dark forest!

Meanwhile, back on Planet Earth, I'm recovering from this ultra more quickly than from the first one, but walking is still not a walk in the park.  I took the dog for a stroll and he sighed at my athletic decrepitude, and then tried to take advantage of it.  Ha, nice try, hotshot, no way I'm going to let you pee on that mailbox.  Anyway, the stiffness and the discomfort are going away surprisingly quickly, but I've learned my lesson: I'm going to allow myself more recovery this time.  No more running until February at least!  See you later!





* wouldn't the friction of atmospheric entry incinerate everything on an object's surface?  Perhaps bacteria residing deep within a meteorite could survive unscathed...admittedly, I have more reading to do, and these might be reputable places to start: Astrobiology Magazine and International Journal of Astrobiology.   I had no idea that this was such a robust field.  The most poignant abstract I've ever read.   I might have to rent the full article.

3-digit club!

I completed the Weymouth Woods 100K yesterday.

Firstly, before I get distracted: I have to thank Marie (race director) and all of the volunteers.  Their support was incredible.  The food was super--there were more than enough gluten-free options.  During the race, I ate two or three kinds of vegetable stew with beans or lentils, and two servings of grits.  During my last ultra, I was fine with just frankenfood (mix, gels) and bananas and coke, but this time, my stomach was less tolerant. I needed real food, and fortunately there was a lot that I could eat at the race.  Even better, I got a massage after about 45 miles--this was the first time I had a massage at a race, and it really helped.  Finally, numerous volunteers and runners helped me with words of encouragement.  This was especially important because I'd missed a bunch of training (thanks, sciatica?).  Once it got dark, I was mostly walking and I felt guilty about that, but people convinced me to finish the final bit.  And my husband and the dog joined me to walk the last lap, and then I got a pretty pottery bowl as a finisher's prize.  I'm so grateful for everyone's help. 

Doing this race wasn't the wisest decision.  However, I didn't spend much time deliberating once I received Marie's email that a spot had opened up.   It's loops on my home turf--can't ask for a better situation--and I'm not sure if we'll be posted somewhere else by next year.  It was now or potentially never.   So what if I wasn't in shape?  There are other reasons for running an ultra.  Novelty, pain management, sociability...I don't think I've ever chatted so much with other runners as I did during this race.  I don't remember most of their names, unfortunately, but it was fun meeting everyone.

The weather was perfect during the day, sunny with a high of about 4 C, but then it got dark and colder.  More on that later.  At any rate, I was grateful for the weather because the last time I had a race that wasn't too warm was in 2011.  My few races since then all been above 20 C, which is just too warm.  I have run only one race that was perhaps too cold, but it was still ok until I stopped moving.

I apologize for the self-referential hyperlinks--maybe tomorrow I'll edit to link to some of the music I listened to last night.  It's so hard to choose!  EDIT: aw, heck, since I'm already posting stuff I've posted already...but at least this is a different video.

During my last ultra, I'd dropped a gear around mile 30.  This time, I elected to walk up the largest hills right from the beginning, in the hope that I could maintain that level of effort past than six or so hours.  I wanted to keep each loop under an hour for the first ten loops. 

Nope!

The first 7 loops, half of the race, remained comfortable and my pace remained consistent.   There isn't much to say about this 50K, surprisingly.  My left leg glitch (sciatica?) kind of almost approached sometime during the 2nd or 3rd loop, but I kept fiddling with my form and taking opportunities to loosen up--the short boardwalk sections were great for this--and eventually the threat passed.  And so did the time.  I chatted, ate, watched for roots, but mainly drifted along with tunes. It's funny how music, as temporal as it is, nevertheless squashes time into some sort of changeless formless entity.  Hours and minutes, and miles, became simply Trail, a constant state seemingly without beginning or end.   Ticket out of Flatland? Amazingly, I didn't look at my watch once during this race; all I did was look at the race clock after each lap but those numbers became sort of abstract after a while.

However, after about thirty miles, my thighs became mutinous.  Not a surprise, but definitely a disappointment.  I could still run down gentle slopes and on the flat, but running uphill was going to Mars, and the steeper downhills were snake pits.  However, I have improved: after my first 30ish mile trail run, I felt like I was being gutted alive; after my second 30ish mile trail run, I felt like my knees were bending backwards; after my third 30ish mile trail run (yesterday), walking remained relatively normal for a good while afterward. 

So, onto plan B: add a few more sections of walking, but try to keep the loops as close to an hour as possible.  This was mostly successful.  On loop ten, my legs were stiffer and I had to cut back the running again.  Onto Plan C, whatever that was, and it was getting dark.  The retreat of the sun was surprisingly daunting.  I was losing heart.  My stomach was saying No! to gels.  The rest of me was getting cold.  I went into the nearby building (this race had access to heated washrooms and an auditorium!) to change my socks and shoes, and I got a massage too.  I told Denise, the massage therapist, that I was thinking of doing just 12 loops, and she told me that if I felt tight after that, she'd get me back out there.  I shouldn't quit.

This was repeated by several other people, including the volunteers (sadly, I forget their names) running the 2nd aid station, and a couple of the other runners.  I shouldn't quit.  One guy told me that I could take a nap and then spend two hours on each remaining lap, if I had to. But I shouldn't quit.

I fished out my flashlight and went into the darkness.  I wasn't scared of it, but I was worried that it would be depressing.  Devoid of light and visible life, and 18 miles left to go.  I estimated that it would take me about an hour and a half to walk each loop...this meant six hours.

Actually--and I should've remembered this from the other nighttime forest runs I've done--a forest after dark is simply a different, more mysterious, place, and usually interesting.   At least it's a change of scene, plus this forest doesn't have bears.  The blackness was cozier than my clothing, and so I changed the latter after the 11th lap because one of the volunteers told me that dry clothes would give me a different perspective.   At the very least, this would broaden my experience, I supposed, which is often a worthy endeavour.  Score!

My husband met me between loops 11 and 12, and once I told him I was reduced to walking, he offered to accompany me for my last loop.  This was a huge sacrifice: he had surgery (a tympanoplasty) a few days ago.  I told him to reconsider, but the prospect of his company helped the 13th loop seem less grim.  Up until that point, I was managing alright--I was losing time eating and chatting and changing my clothing and getting massaged, and I suppose nothing less than a bear could have coaxed even a light jog out of me, but I wasn't getting any slower at walking. 

Until the 13th loop.  I started noticing little pains in my feet and ankles, which in turn pinpointed just how uneven the trail surface was.  Downhills were worse than uphills.  And I was becoming almost sleepy--this would have been fine and perhaps even preferable on a smooth road, but these trails demanded wakefulness.  Worse still, I was starting to get annoyed with my music and bored with the view.  Black black black, bits of underbrush casting black shadows over sand and roots, black black.  The lights of the aid stations were a welcome relief (the little fire pit at the 2nd station was a raw beacon in the dark, a delightful primeval atmos), as were the lights of the other runners, but these were diminishing in number, if not lumens (near the end, I was questioning the freshness of  the 'new' batteries in my flashlight).  At this point, even the approaching gleam of an overtaking runner was heartening.  And now, as I write this, I'm finally thinking of the final runner left on the course.  4.5 miles reduced to one solitary point of light.  How incredibly lonely.  However, this race's congeniality extends especially to that hapless individual: there is an award for DFL.

When I got to the end of the 13th lap, my husband wasn't there.  I waited for about ten minutes (and ate more delicious soup!) and finally I set out--but then I heard my name!  Thank goodness.  He'd also brought more clothing for me, so I put that on, and then we set out with the dog.

A forest after dark in the company of a dog is another place still.  So many smells.  The run/race/experience devolved into a stroll with a break for more grits, and smaller breaks for doggie pitstops and for human root-shaming.  There are so many roots on this course, and some of them have tripped me on other occasions, but I didn't trip once during this race.  Victory!  There were a few roots that I was especially worried about, and I mocked them on my final lap.  However, I didn't feel too much of a thrill until a few minutes before the end.  Going up the final rooty hill felt almost effortless.

How to tap into this masking of pain throughout?  Ignoring pain or pushing past it is one thing (that I'm not good at), but removing it altogether is a biochemical step up.  How to mentally trick the body into releasing more of the applicable neurotransmitters? I did a decent job of loosening up throughout the race, holding the poor sciatica(?)-causing biomechanics at bay, but I wasn't as accepting of discomfort as I could've been.

At least, I got a taste of extending a run into the next day.  I ascended that final hill about twenty minutes past midnight.  My race was s-l-o-w, over sixteen hours on my feet.  Fortunately, I'm not exactly ambitious about trails and ultras; I've mainly been enjoying the local scene.  The thought of doing an even longer ultra, unless it's conveniently close, is not attractive at this point.  I'm not sure I'd even want to attempt another 100K apart from this one again.   However, I would like to try a 24 hour race someday because I've read that dawn sometimes ushers a surge of energy. 

At any rate, Weymouth Woods was a lovely spot with a bunch of lovely people yesterday!

The Desolation of Smaug

When hunting season ended, I returned to the back trails in the little forest.  I think they're still on state land, but I'm not completely sure because of a few artifacts: the Proctors (graveyard), what looks like some sort of stand used for hunting, and the faded torn "Private Property" signs.  Yeah.  Fortunately, the "Conservation Land" or whatever signs look a lot newer.

At any rate, we've been spending more time on the back trails.  The first time I returned to them this year, I smelled burning wood.  This smell doesn't have pleasant associations even though I smelled it most often in my grandmother's kitchen, one of my favourite places.   It also reminds me of miserable Brownie excursions* and of the time our next door neighbours' house was gutted by fire...and it also usually indicates that somebody nearby is burning something, which is usually a disquieting thought.  It's not the most comfortable accompaniment to a jog through a forest of uncertain ownership.

And then I found a cleared trail.  Not just swept, but cleared with equipment past the top layer of sand.  At first, I thought the trail was new and my excitement rose, and then I remembered it as being about ankle-deep thick in debris, barely a trail.  I'd used it only once or twice because it was so difficult to run on, and I couldn't remember where exactly it led.

The burning wood smell was making me uneasy, but I find it hard to pass up a new trail, and there were no footprints on it.  Green light!

However, as we approached a hill, I was halted by the gleam of blue plastic.  Was this a settlement?  I've come across homeless camps before, but not in the States, I think (unless the Port Authority bus terminal counts).  I reminded myself that there were no footprints, and the burning wood smell had become fainter, and we kept going.  The blue plastic was really a metallic party balloon.  At this point, the dog saw it too and became wary, so we had to slow our approach to the balloon.  I felt a bit guilty as though I'd passed him a puck of unease.

Anyway, each time I've run the back trails after that, I've smelled burning wood.  Maybe a not-so-nearby house had a new fireplace put in.

Today, we revisited a few more trails, also oddly stripped clean by machinery and free of footprints, and I discovered the source of the smell: they had done a controlled burn some time ago.   The clear trails were firebreaks. 

Even the Triplet was scoured.  We ran up and down the three peaks and it felt easier than the last time, probably because there was no more slippery wet pine straw. 

So, 1hr15ish total, with some walking and a loose dog slobbering on mine near the end (the run's AND my dog's), and then some resistance exercises at home. 


* I remember cutting tin to make a little stove to cook dinner on, and then bathing in a garbage pail filled with diluted Javex that we all shared.  To add insult to injury, we had to sleep in old leaky Army A-frame tents with wooden beams that we could barely lift up into place.  I guess it was a cheap way of getting rid of a 7-8 year old girl for a week or two, and some of it was fun, but nobody from my troop went with me, and compared to the group camping I'd done earlier, it sucked.  The campfire stories were subpar until I told the spooky one about two friends going to the outhouse in the dead of night and being chased by dragging noises, swish, swish, swish**.  No familiar faces, no massive Capture the Flag games with cool older kids and seemingly without adult supervision--I remember hiding underwater in a creek more than once--no smores, no daring each other to enter an abandoned (?) hermit cabin, no looking for petrified wood, no personal pup tent.  I had my own tent that I could put up myself: I didn't have to sleep in a sieve-like reject from WWII!


** SPOILER

This story wasn't the scariest one I was told, but I couldn't remember the details of the others (some of which revolved around the mysterious and murderous occupant of the abandoned hermit cabin).  Still, it was so scary that I scared myself while telling it.  The swish swish noises get louder, one of the friends disappears in the darkness, and the other girl is left cowering in an outhouse.  The swish swish noises stop, and long house nails are driven through the door, one at the top, one just below, two below that, and two at the bottom.  Nobody wanted to use the outhouse at night after that, and more than one girl wet her sleeping bag.  I should have warned them to pee as much as possible before dusk.  I was a shitty Brownie***

*** I'm still miffed that I was denied a badge for my essay about Terry Fox because I'd written it in crayon.  But it was brown!

~ :)

A nice relaxing basking-in-the-sun jog...so, pretty much the perfect run.  (Thanks, Gaz, for the good run vibes!)  Total: 2.5ish hours.  I walked up a few of the hills, too, so that I could stay in this great zone.  It was so transcending.  It felt like sitting out on a patio with friends and drinks all afternoon on the first warm sunny day of the year.  The sun was so bright that the path shimmered--yes, there was some extra reflection caused by the water, left by yesterday's storm which also pounded the sand relatively flat and solid.  So I wasn't working as much as I usually do, plus I was wearing my lightest shoes.  I just drifted along like a giant jellyfish. 

This is my spirit animal for 2014, I've decided.  I'm lazy but really I'm conserving my strength for...something.  Whatever!  Go with the flow.

Anyway, it was an amazing run.  Now I might be high on Vitamin D: I haven't been getting a whole lot of sun this year, even though I have run on a few sunny days so far, because a lot of the sunlight is blocked in the morning.  Today, however, I was out in prime time and I got blasted.  Noon to three, that's when it's at!

Did modest weights, and I will again on Tuesday, possibly after another 2ish hour run...and then I'll become even more of a jellyfish to practice for the ultra.  LOL  Seriously, though, I will out there for a while, so I want to keep the first few hours feeling like nothing.  Tricking myself: oh, I didn't really run all that; this run is shorter than I think.  My general plan is to ease into the thing for the first few hours, and then hopefully stay in a nice groove without too much slowing down until it gets dark, and then I'll pick my way over the roots as deftly as I can.  If it goes really well, I estimate three hours of darkness, but realistically four (hopefully not much more than that!)  This ultra has a civilized start time, 8 am, but I'll be paying for it come 6 pm.  And I'll be slow because I'm a jellyfish (it's 2014, remember).  I don't even want to think about how long it'll take a jellyfish to do this thing.  I figure, once I need a flashlight (I'm not a fancy bioluminescent jellyfish, unfortunately), I'll turn up the tunes and go into a numb zone of denial: oh, I'm not really running all this either!

Seriously easy going but long

Ten days or so left to go.  This taper is not finely orchestrated: I've simply kept myself moving for at least an hour a day, ideally 1:30-2:00, and ideally split so I get more accustomed to a wider span of activity.  I've missed a day or two, but it's been going well.  Whatever I don't do in the morning, I've done on the treadmill in the evening.  I'm still trying to get myself into the forest later in the day--maybe the race is close enough for that push.  Though I'm sometimes throwing in short fast intervals, they are very limited: I don't want to tire myself out or get re-injured at this point.  So, everything is super easy.  Yeah, walk up that hill--actually, walking will be very important during this ultra.  With that terrain, I've found out that I can jog for about six hours until things start to fall apart, but maybe more walking earlier on will delay or lessen that.  Or perhaps it'll be inevitable.  I'll see.  At any rate, while there is only one section that I will definitely walk during the day, there are a few other hills that I'm considering walking up as well, and definitely a few sections that I will walk after dark because the footing is so dicey.

In the meantime, I'm taking things easy.

In addition, I've also tried to maintain resistance exercises and a good diet.  I've been doing my scaled down weight workout every 2-3 days and core exercises in between...I've missed a day or two but I've been rather strict about it overall.  Stretching has been more hit-or-miss.  Bad!

As for diet...the human members of the household are presently eating through a large pot of chili.  I love chili, even for breakfast.  Especially for breakfast.  I get bored with leftovers sometimes, but I really like chili.  I've had it for two meals a day for the past few days and am not sick of it yet.  It would be in my best interest to taper off it prior to the ultra, though.

Meanwhile, I've been sleeping a lot, at least 9 hours a day and usually more.  This is not normal, but it's the season and the taper and the recent gut issues and whatnot, plus I switched my iron supplementation.  I've been on iron supplements for years due to low ferritin, in turn caused by malabsorption and pulverizing countless hapless RBCs during running.  It took me a while to find an iron supplement that worked (ie, dezombified me): Swiss Natural Sources with folic acid, vitamin C, and other cofactors included--that's been my dream team for several years.

But this is one of the few items I cannot purchase in the States, not even through Amazon!  I can get almost anything through Amazon.  I'm trying to support local and/or small business, but sometimes they simply don't have, uh, let's see, fish-safe silicone sealant or living papyrus plants or black shea soap (the only 'shampoo' that didn't leave a residue when we were living with hard, hard water), or a certain linear algebra book, or a new trackpad for this laptop I'm typing on, or worms for composting, yes, live worms...Amazon is the queen!  But her ports are closed to Swiss Natural Sources.  It's actually a Canadian brand as far as I can tell.

I bring some back every time I go home, but when I ran out last time, I decided to try coupling a local brand with a B-complex vitamin and some form of vitamin C, and that's been fine.  And then the B-complex vitamins ran out and I went to a local athletic nutrition store and got all fancy with a multivitamin instead, even though I've gone this route before with poor results.  My triumvirate is iron, folic acid, and vitamin C; there are a few lower-level participants as well, but too many get in the way.  My diet is comprehensive; I just need a larger jolt of these few nutrients (edit: but I also use whey protein powder and ZMA sometimes). So I have to ditch the multivitamin and get some more B9/folic acid and OJ, easy peasy...meanwhile, in the recesses of a drawer in the bathroom, I found a mostly empty bottle of Swiss Natural Formula.  What?  Maybe I'd tossed it in there after unpacking from a trip.  7 or 8 pills.  Score! 

And, speaking of diet, my half-assed goal of doing a mini blog for 2014, 300 Smoothies, hasn't gone anywhere--there's still time--but meanwhile our faithful blender has suffered long enough.  We got a Breville for Christmas from my folks.  A blender, not a juicer, but I still haven't used it and I've been searching for inspiration: Vegan Black Metal Chef.  (warning: his spelling is also occasionally awry, though maybe that's for effect, hard to say.  Oh, yeah, and some profanity).

So, anyway, that's pretty much it for the last few days and for the next ten or so.  Preparations will be simple because the loop is just 4.5 miles, with a water station halfway through: one drop bag, one handheld bottle.  Possibly two lights so that I don't bust my skull over the roots once it gets dark.  I thought about buying a new pair of shoes (same model)...eh, it's trails, whatever.  And I have no clue what the weather is going to be like.  It got down to -12 C last night but will get up to 21 this Saturday...eh, whatever (but, seriously, if I'm feeling too hot to run in JANUARY, there will be harsh words). 

~

Yesterday, today: 30ish minute jog. 

Yesterday: resistance exercises.  I've distilled my routine to a pre-race formula, lol:

delt flies
pistol squats
light deadlifts (more like a back/spine massage, just to keep the area loose, really)
dicking about on the chin up bar--ok, this isn't essential, more like painful 'fun'
clamshells

I've also added clamshells to the bliss workout.  Tonight, I was more consistent: 13, 13, 12, 13 on the pushups, and 11, 10, 10, 11 on the situps.  

2014 starting off right!

I'm rather fond of 2014 already: a spot opened up in the local ultra, and I also received a lab grant!  

So I have 18 days to relax and get back into the easy moving groove.  My run today with my husband and the dog felt fine.  1hr15.   Gotta get enough sleep and the right kind of food, and I can't skimp on stretching. 

edit: 4 minutes of Bliss:

13 pushups
11 pike situps
13 pushups
11 pike situps
13 pushups
10 pike situps
10 pushups---lol, I was paying for those thirteenth reps!  hurting
10 pike situps

Will write about our new chin up bar and my feelings of inadequacy later.