Time for a little patience...

Finally.

High school apps are in the mail. Our work is done. Time to wait.

The awesome thing is I get to model patience for my son. He must be patient as he awaits decisions; I must be patient as I coax and guide my body back to health.

After a few stutter-starts to my training plan, I think I'm finally starting for real. The plan is unconventional, as is my wont, but I think it will be effective for my purposes.

I was going over my training logs from a long, long time ago and was struck by how much cross-training I did and also by how frequently I did strength work. This was true both of my rowing logs and my old running logs. Stronger, faster, almost never injured...and of course, younger, but I'm thinking there is a reason why we keep hearing these words, "Want to prevent injury? Cross-train and strength-train and get some good body work done on a regular basis!" and "Oh, bummer you're injured? What have you been doing for cross-training and how often do you incorporate strength work into your routine? When was the last time you had a massage?" Many of us would truthfully have to say, "None and never and what's that?"

I'm going old school. Which is also smart school.

About two weeks ago, I started seeing a new bodywork guy who is awesome. Yesterday, I returned to my trainer to recommence strength-training after a 6-week hiatus. Yesterday, I also returned here...

You've seen it before...

blah blah blah...big hill...blah blah blah...

Sunny day made for awesome, leggy shadows...

I really am not picking my butt. And I do have clothes on...

even though I look like a pot-bellied naked person...

with a headphone cord.

I saw some spectacular sights...

See the hawk about to take flight from the top of the street light?

Whoa, whoa! Before you raise your eyebrow too high and wonder, "Isn't that a bit overambitious if you're taking it slow?" I didn't go long or hard for any of this. It was all chill and a beginning. And it felt really calm and really good.

My plan calls for running a maximum of three days a week, cross-training a minimum of three days a week, a little bit of strength work every single day, and bodywork (massage/chiro/ART) once or twice a week. All of this will ebb and flow...except the running part. MAXIMUM three days a week. For my body, I know this is where it is happiest. At least at this juncture in my athletic life.

As I sit here 2+ weeks out from my first race of the year...a sweet little 5K...I am excited to see where I can take it at the moment it is occurring. I am eager to see what a little patience can bring.

How is everyone else doing? Is training going well? Have you raced yet this year? What's coming up?

The Big Boy Hike

For years I have wanted to go hiking with my kids. I wandered the Berkeley hills in Tilden Regional Park when I was young, and I loved it. I wanted to share this place with my own children.

Spending eight years hobbling around in my slippers, using shopping carts like walkers pretty much meant hiking was not an option. Now that I am healthy enough to take on the great outdoors, I have a few pretty resistant customers, most likely because it is completely foreign to them. Hiking can be hard work...and you might get dirty. My big boy is especially known for shying away from activities that involve those two things...working hard and getting dirty. 

Imagine my surprise when he excitedly agreed to join me in climbing a mountain this past weekend. I'm pretty sure it was a combo of getting time away from his humungous history project on which he has been majorly procrastinating and spending a little one-on-one time with me :)

I packed some lunch and some water, put on some real hiking boots, and off we set. I'd done this hike several times decades ago; I knew it was something he could handle. I have no idea how many miles it is, and I'm too lazy to do the math using the park's trail map. Start to finish, it took us 2 hours...and we were really leisurely. 

Me and my big boy getting ready to head out.

We opted for the road less traveled...

the one to the right, in case you couldn't tell.

Some images lend themselves to hugeness...

...and here's a close-up of the branch obstructing the trail...

...because the blistery, black fungus we had to climb over reminded me

vividly of that poor prairie dog we saw on our trip to the SF Zoo.

We were careful to not touch it in the event it is interphylum contagious.

This one also needs to be seen really, really big...

Yes, my son is a tree-hugger. 

But he does have discriminating taste...

this is quite possibly the biggest California Bay Laurel

in the world!

Well...it's the biggest one I've ever seen, anyway.

We skipped through dried-up meadows...

...climbed down steep ravines...

...crossed cute little creeks with fluffy ferns growing next to them...

...spotted hot babes...

...texted dad to let him know we'd had no Sasquatch sightings and were safe...

Dude...

This was hard work.

We were climbing a freaking mountain!

See? 

That's the trail sign...

That hump thing is the mountain...and we went to the top.

This is about 3/4 of the way up.

Ever upward...up, up, UP!

The final stretch toward the summit...

at a whopping 1250 feet above sea level.

I started to get worried because we had neglected to pack our oxygen tanks.

The glorious day from atop Wildcat Peak.

Once we finished our lunch, we started down...

Through trees...

...short and droopy...

...tall and straight...

And we skipped through more meadows...

...not sure why this meadow is so much greener than that first meadow...

...and we followed the road more traveled back to the car.

As we followed this road around the corner past where you can see, 

we saw something very special. Right before we reached the car, 

a hawk swooped and snatched up some prey about 10 feet from us.

Both of us were awe-struck as we watched its strong, powerful flight between the trees, 

rodent dangling from its talons...

triumphant.

Not once had he complained. Not once had he whined. Big G spent the remainder of the afternoon and on into the evening thanking me for taking him on this hike. He'd walk up to me and stand there, and when I'd turn to him, he'd throw himself into my arms and bury his head into my shoulder and say how cool it was and how much fun he had and how he wanted to do it again sometime...and thank you. It really did move me to tears.