0 Injured reserve

Let's see.  How did this all begin?

Oh right.  I know.  I went running.  And it hurt.  I thought it was a fluke, so I went running again.  It hurt more.

I took a little bit of time off.  And then tried running a third time.  It hurt even worse and I finally got it through my head that there might be a problem (I am just a tad bit stubborn).

So, between the doctor and the acupuncturist and the podiatrist and my coach, the problem boiled down to this: I have been running on really crappy, really old orthotics and now I have a nice amount of soft tissue damage in my lower shins.  It's quite boring actually and people's eyes tend to glaze over when I start to explain what the hell is wrong with me and why the hell I am not racing.

They want to hear about blood and gore and traumatic crashes and all I have to offer is this: I am an idiot who should have had new orthotics and new shoes eons ago. 

Initally, the doctor cleared me to bike race but not to run.  I raced.  I did not get better.  That's when the hammer came down: no racing OR I will not have a ski season OR I will be wearing a boot on both feet OR zombies might attack the world OR the world will spontaneously combust.

You know, any or all of the above.

So I gulped hard, held back my disappointment and nodded my head when my doctor asked if I would comply.

It's been over a month of no racing and over six weeks of no running.  I am still not better and therefore not cleared to head out to the trails, forget running two steps carrying a bike over my shoulder.

This injury thing is super annoying.  Forget the 30-minute workout.  You know, the workout you do when you only have 1/2 an hour between work and picking up the kid at daycare?  Yeah, that's gone because that was a quick run.  Also, cyclocross skills practice?  Adiós, amigo.  Track workout? Say hello to my new friend, Masters Swim Practice (also known as "Oxygen Deprivation at Ridiculously Early Morning Hours").

Then, to add insult to a real-life injury, I woke up on Monday morning unable to move my neck.  At all.  I thought it was a typical I-slept-weird-now-I-have-this-stupid-kink-in-my-neck-to-make-me-cranky-all-day kind of thing.  But of course, it wasn't.  It's now been almost 48 hours of excruciating "PLEASE GIVE ME SOME PAINKILLERS" kind of pain and after some chiropractic, massage, acupuncture, ice, stretching and kinesio tape, I can only hope that it's better tomorrow.  And pop some more painkillers.

(Yeah, seriously, I know.  WTF??)

Being injured isn't all negative.  I am turning in to super cyclocross supporter.  I am more rested than I have been in months.  I am posting some pretty damn good power numbers on the computrainer.

Yes, I am still allowed to ride my bike.  Just no running.  At all.  Period.  For real this time, NoPoGirl.

Anyway.

I still check the race results religiously.  I still secretly plot disobeying the doctor and racing the next weekend.  I still stare at my trail running shoes longingly.  

Things I tell myself: There will be another cyclocross season.  I will ski hard this winter.  I will be even stronger on the bike for road season.  

RIGHT???

Just call me Super Race Heckler

Detail: Injured reserve

0 Vacation: first verse

We were going to go to Europe for our ten-year anniversary. Then the government took all of our money and killed that dream. Thanks, government!

It's almost enough to make me a Republican.

Okay, not really. I'll just think of Europe wistfully and remember all the conservative, Tea Party-backed politicians' families I helped feed.

*sigh*

So. Where does one go if one cannot afford to go to Europe? Well, one goes to the "American Alps". That's "North Cascades" to you. And, if it's one's 10th anniversary? Well, one drops the kid off at Grandma and Grandpa's, tries not to giggle too much and goes straight to a super cute cabin in the woods.

That's what we did. Three years of parenthood and we haven't spent an entire week together, sans child. We have spent weekends and half-weeks, but there's something about a whole week. Time feels different. Everything feels different...and easy. Wow, is it easy to go on vacation without a kid (though we did that too- that's the second verse). At some point in the week, you look at your spouse and you smile and you think, "I am so damn glad I married this person and I get to spend this time with him (or her, as the case may be)."

After the intensity of my school year and my racing season, I was beyond ready for a vacation. I would have gone to Beaverton, as long as it meant a complete lack of responsibility or expectation for a full week. I wanted to turn all of the technology off (we are strongly committed to "technology blackout" during family vacations), turn my brain off and just...breathe.

And so I did. And it was glorious. I think I am still a little high from the experience.

Without further ado, here is a very choice selection of pictures from our first week of vacation. A short anthology of the second week will arrive soon. I promise.

Can you see me already breathing a little more deeply?

(overlooking Diablo Lake on the way to Mazama)

So psyched to be kid-free for a week!

On our first full day in the Methow Valley, it rained. All day. After the year we have had here in Portland, I came very close to real tears. But, I took a deep breath, swallowed my disappointment, and we made alternate plans: drive around some random forest roads (and get a little lost) and go trail running. Done and done. Then I read an entire book. It was a good day.

The next day, my best friend, THE SUN, came out and we resumed our adventures. First adventure: riding from Mazama to Washington Pass on the North Cascades Highway. Elevation gain: 3500ft. in 17 miles. The flip side of that? 17 miles of downhill! Woot!

Up the switchbacks. Smiling because I am not racing.

Barkernews, the king of Washington Pass.

After a bike ride, a gratuitous lunch and a gratuitous nap, we looked at each other and wondered: what should we do now?

I know! Rock climbing! So we did.

Really freaking happy to be on the rock again

(Fun Rock, Mazama)

Returning to my roots. You know I was a rock climber before I was a cyclist/runner/triathlete/telemark skier, right?

The day prior, we had begun a daily ritual of visiting the hot tub as many times in one day as we could stand. After our cycling/rock climbing day, we of course visited the hot tub again. It was already the Best Vacation Ever.

So, prepare yourself, you guys. Because every day was JUST AS COOL as that day. I will prove it to you. Read on.

The next morning, we made a quick decision to float the Methow River on inflatable kayaks in the afternoon. Since we woke up when we felt like it, that left us with a some time for a mini-adventure, this time on a hike to Blue Lake.

It's a short hike, with some elevation gain and lots of snowfields. Worth it.

We have no pictures of our amazing float down the Methow River because HELLO?! Who takes their very expensive camera down a river?? Know this: it was rad. And relaxing. And gorgeous.

And then we went back to our cabin in the woods and partook in this:

Cabins in the woods= THE SHIZNIT

Right out of Mazama begins the highest road in Washington state. It leads to Hart's Pass and the Pacific Crest Trail. The views are overwhelming. It is a Must Go. On the 28th, my birthday and our anniversary, we did.

A small sampler of what you see FROM THE ROAD.

Threatening Barkernews with a snowball on the PCT. Lots of snowfields covering the trail, but we still got a good 8 miles in.

TEN YEARS, People!! Every day I wake up next to this guy? I win.

It was pretty hard to wipe the smile off my face all week long.

How does one celebrate the momentous occasion of a ten-year anniversary? Well, I'm glad you asked. By having dinner in a tipi, of course. I mean, DUH. And let's not forget renewing one's vows with a local cowboy/Native American/internet-certified minister.

Renewing our vows at sunset outside Winthrop. Pretty much as rad as our wedding.

This is what dinner in a tipi looks like. In case you were wondering.

Tipi. Mountains. I NEED TO LIVE HERE.

Then? There was STILL MORE RADNESS TO BE FOUND! I know, you can't believe it. Neither could I.

Despite loading our trucks with 4 million bikes, we did not bring our mountain bikes. We swallowed our pride and rented, only to fall in love with the Buck Mountain Trail. Thirteen miles of singletrack love, with views that stretch in to Canada. Dear Barkernews: I would like a new mountain bike for my next birthday, m'kay?

Buck Mountain Love.

No mountain bike day is complete without a dip in Patterson Lake.

The last day of our vacation ended like this- towing our truck to Wenatchee. Some sort of steering issue (I don't even pretend to understand) rendered us handicapped and spending 100 miles of open road in a tow truck, watching the driver down day-old 7/11 fried food and take cigarette breaks.

But you know what? I didn't care. Vacation had gotten in to my blood. Even if I tried, I couldn't be stressed. Good thing I still had another week left.

Reflecting on the awesomeness that is my life.

Detail: Vacation: first verse

0 Hot! Sun! Fireworks! Parades!

As we have for several previous years, we escaped to my parents' cabin in Sunlands for parades galore, pool time, river time and, of course, fireworks. I managed to bring two bikes and a pair of running shoes, in hopes that I would actually do something active and try to work off the pounds of red meat I ate all weekend.

HA HA HA HA HA HA!

That was me laughing, because I rode my cruiser once, for a grand total of 3 miles, and I didn't take my road bike off of the car.

Did I care? NOT. AT. ALL. That's because Fourth of July in Sunlands isn't about training. It's about Sun! and Fireworks! and Parades! In short, it epitomizes summer.

I should be completely truthful here, though, and tell you that I did run in the Sunlands Inaugural 5k, in which I came in second on a hot and windy day. But then I didn't do anything else active. I swear!

My parents' cabin is about 5 houses down from the pool, but Hazel insists on riding in the wagon every single time.

Check out who is on the jetski! My water-loving baby girl, that's who.

Second woman in the 5K. I wanted to win, but since I now embrace the number "2", I will accept and own it.

En route to the Sunlands kiddie parade. Hazel gives Baby Eli instructions since he's a rookie.

Three days before his first birthday, we celebrated Baby Eli and his awesome cuteness.

Parade Number Two! All geared up for the George, WA parade, featuring antique tractors and a combine.

Hazel's gazillionth piece of candy at the George, WA Fourth of July celebration.

My brother Clayton is a pretty damn rad banjo player. Hire him for your next party! He needs the money!

Detail: Hot! Sun! Fireworks! Parades!

0 The Season

Last week, it was sunny two days in a row which was weird and unusual. And so I spent two days riding my cruiser bike nonchalantly around town, wearing flip flops and contemplating the awesomeness of life.

Then I realized: one of the things that makes life awesome is the racing season! And guess what, people? It is the racing season RIGHT NOW.

You know what else? I am pretty freaking stoked about that. Between the pre-race nerves that make me vomit, the continual self-talk and suffering during a race, and the post-race sinking in to the couch from exhaustion and inhaling burritos from ravenous hunger...I love it. I love it all.

So, bring it. Bring it all- the triathlons, the bike races, the 5Ks, the short track mountain biking...BRING. IT. ON.

Detail: The Season

0 Balance

This school year has been the most difficult one for me in recent memory. I would say it ranks right up there with my first year of teaching, except that nothing compares with waking up every day in tears, wondering if you will make it to 3pm. At least THAT didn't happen this year.

My job is emotionally wrenching, aggravating, frustrating, and downright depressing sometimes. It can also be inspiring, hilarious, enlightening and fun. Often, it can be all of those things in one 60-minute period and I never know from one day to the next what it will be. All of that makes it emotionally draining. There were many days this year when I couldn't complete anything after 3pm because I just COULD NOT THINK any more. And, I am slightly embarrassed to admit, there were more than a few days when I went home and sat my daughter down in front of Sesame Street, just so I could have a break.

A lot of people wonder aloud to me how I manage to work, have a family, train and compete, and still fulfill other commitments in my life such as Ski Patrol. My answer is usually that I just happen to be pretty good at time management and scheduling.

But the real answer is bigger than that. All of those things outside of work? They have all basically saved my life at one time or another, most of them multiple times. Work beat me up? Luckily, I have a husband who tells me how wonderful I am on a daily basis (no, you can't have him) and a 2-year-old daughter who never fails to make me laugh or ask for a hug. Feeling like a failure? This year, I have run my fastest mile ever thanks to my coach and I am doing my best to get even faster on the bike. The walls closing in on me? I skied 31 days this year and ripped it up even more than ever.

So, yeah. All of those things have probably kept me out of the mental hospital. Going to a workout at 5am is a pain in the ass for sure, but the numbers to complete are doable and finite. Before my work day even starts, I am successful.

The truth is that I have never achieved the perfect balance and I probably never will. It's an unattainable goal. The see saw is constantly moving back and forth. And each time it tips too far, I know it's time to head back in the other direction.

Really, people, I don't have the answers. I just know that I love my family, I love my job (yes, I really do), I love to train and compete, I love to ski and if I just keep doing those things, it will all work out in the end, right?

See you on the seesaw.

Detail: Balance

0 Damnit, I will FIND spring.

Spring in Portland this year has been a joke. A HUGE joke. With daytime temps in the 40s and never-ending rain, Barkernews and I could not take it for one more weekend. Or even the weekend after that. Or the weekend after that.

Cue Der Kaiserhutte. For the first time in 2011, we loaded her up and pointed her towards points east AKA the desert which is often full of sun. I was so excited, I could hardly sit still. I love camping. I love the desert. I love my family. I was like that little kid on her way to Disneyland, except for me Disneyland represents the seventh level of hell and camping in the desert represents total bliss.

In the desert, we can ride bikes, trail run, ski, soak up the sun and enjoy a rain-free campfire. Instead of taking medication for anxiety or stress, I go camping and play with my family.

Trailer? Check. Bikes? Check. Skis? Check. Toddler? Oops. Has anyone seen her?

Campfires and s'mores are much more enjoyable with a 2-year-old and dry weather.

Camping in the sun followed by ski days in the sun keep me sane.

The past two weekends, we have camped on the Columbia River and the Deschutes River. That means mud and lots of it. We could not be more pleased.

I put this picture on my screensaver so when I have a difficult day at work, I can look back on my spectacular weekend and say "ahhhh..."

Detail: Damnit, I will FIND spring.

0 The week in review

In the last 7 days, I have...

...raced a 10-mile time trial and performed better that I thought was possible (on a road bike, even).

...run a 1-mile time trial on the track with a slight cold/sinus infection/bad attitude and had a PR (6:26).

...completed a power test on the computrainer and improved my average wattage by almost 10 points.

I think it's time for a rest day, don't you?

Oh yeah, and I might also just be an itty-bitty, tiny bit proud. :)

Detail: The week in review

0 WET

Way back in January (you know, the month that was insane but disappeared quickly?), I spent the ENTIRE weekend in the rain. Yes, the whole entire weekend. I may have mentioned this here once or twice but just in case, let me remind you: I HATE RAIN. I especially hate rain when it's a deluge on the mountain and a deluge during a running race. I need to move to Arizona, or at least Colorado.

I spent Saturday in a women's sled clinic for ski patrol. It was good, all except for the part when it poured on us. Yes, it poured. On the ski area. This did not make me happy. Sunday, I drove an hour to run a 2-mile race. Where it poured and inflicted gale-force winds. I put in a 14:32 effort, which was shy of my goal time of 14:07. I blame the wind. On the plus side, I wore shorts and a short sleeve shirt in January.

It really sucks when it rains all weekend. I spent the entire 48 hours praying for sunshine for the next weekend. I was seriously Vitamin D deprived.

Detail: WET