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Gravity’s Bitch….again

Updates and Shoes and Pictures and Weekends (OH MY!)

Jul 12th, 2011
by gazelle.
6 comments

I finished out Thursday with a great trail run with Sarah and then got to sleep in a bit (’til 7:30!) on Friday.

Friday started off fantastically. I had a great morning yoga class and then spent the rest of the day doing homework and packing for our camping trip.

The architect got home about 4:45 and we loaded up the truck and were off!  We stayed at Elk Creek Campground in the Coast Range. It was really pretty, if a bit too close to the highway (6) for my taste. Next time we’ll leave a bit earlier and get one of the more tucked away campgrounds.

Friday night we started the fire, set up camp, roasted weenies and marshmallows, and relaxed.

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Sometime in the middle of the night, some crazy person started yelling obscenities and being a general crazy, disturbing nuisance. I slept through it.

Saturday morning, we were up and at ‘em wicked early (i.e. 8 am!). We had a lovely breakfast of instant coffee with hot cocoa stirred in and organic pop tarts.  HEALTHY! :)

We were going to do a long hike that day, summitting two nearby peaks. We grabbed the day pack, the water filter and the camera & headed to the stream to fill up the water bottles for the hike.

As the architect filled up the bottles, I decided I needed a picture of that. And that’s when I realized that the camera batteries were dead.

Shortly thereafter, we also realized that the water filter was dead.

This was not an auspicious beginning!

We reevaluated our plans, and since it was now nearing 11 am, decided that the 8-10 hour extremely (according to the trail map) difficult hike with only 32 oz of water might not be the way to go.

So, we took the moderately difficult option instead. We did a 7 mile hike, which took 3 hours and all 32 oz of water. We did see an elk that crashed through the  forest and crossed the trail ahead of us, so that was cool!  It was a pretty, steep, and fun hike.  The way back, I rolled my ankle, bruised my heel, and almost fell in a hole (not to mention the stinging nettle that I traipsed through), and was sure glad to get back to the tent!

We split a beer and napped before getting down to the business of more fires, more roasted weenies, and more toasted marshmallows!

I fell asleep hard that night, and about midnight was woken up by the sound of rapid gunfire not too far away. There were a LOT of shots, and it was really nerve-wracking. The architect tried to tell me that it sounded really far away, but I didn’t believe him (although I appreciated him trying to assuage my fears).  After the shots finally died down for good, the campground became a swarm of activity. A couple groups packed up their cars and got out of Dodge. All the flashlights bobbing about & the hushed conversations did nothing for my nerves. It took me forever to fall asleep again, and then I had dreams about being shot the rest of the night.

Sunday morning, the whole campsite was pretty much packing up & leaving early.  We loaded up the car and headed to Kookoolan farm to pick up Colin!

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Doesn’t he look delicious? Plus, bonus Ikea bag for all my open water swim needs! :)

We started on our way home, stopping Forest Grove for lunch and then spending a lazy afternoon at home.

Yesterday was my first “work at home” day, and it was wonderful! I got so much done, had fewer distractions at home than work, and generally felt way more productive.  I took off & picked up Jen so we could head out to Klineline for a swim. It was perfect weather – a little overcast to keep us cool. We did two long loops in the lake and it felt really great!

Last night, the rain woke me up and it’s still gray and drizzly today. I love a break from the heat & sun every couple of weeks in the summer, and my rain barrels and garden need the break, too!

Speaking of the garden, check it out! Baby ‘maters and peppers!

Baby Tomato!

 

Baby Black Hungarian Sweet Pepper

 

 

 

Daisy!

 

The other great thing that happened yesterday? My new Kate Spade shoes arrived! Huzzah!

Happy week!

I don’t even have any more clever titles

May 16th, 2011
by gazelle.
3 comments

So – since last I updated you on this crazy life thing I’ve got going on here, so much has happened!

On Tuesday evening, I hit up the track w/ my good friend Alisa & her husband. I ran a mile warm up & then did 4×400 (with 400 recovery jogs) & closed with a half mile cool-down. I didn’t bring my garmin, so I don’t have any idea how long/how fast/etc. that drives me bonkers, by the way. My spreadsheets are incomplete.

Wednesday morning, I woke up & felt decidedly not right. So I stayed home. I did get some homework done, but overall, it wasn’t a super productive day. Which is okay when taking a sick day, right?

Wednesday evening, my left foot started to hurt. This is the non-surgery foot. I didn’t think too much of it, and just went to bed. I woke up 3-4 times in the night with some weird foot pain.

Thursday morning I woke up and my left foot (specifically the big toe joint area) hurt excruciatingly bad. I was pretty sure that something was broken. I went to work & called the orthopedic clinic.  They told me they could fit me in for an X-Ray in about a week. That seemed a bit long to wait to see if I’d broken a toe or a foot or something. I called my Primary Care & although she wasn’t in, another doc in her group was able to see me “as soon as I could get there.” Which was about 15 minutes or so (sometimes it’s handy working in a hospital). I saw the doc, had an X-Ray, and then saw the doc again.

He thought I had a stress fracture. The radiologist disagreed. So – the official diagnosis? No stress fracture. (Other things it isn’t include the plague, schizophrenia [probably], and cataracts. Things it is include who knows?!)

I was referred to PT (which I love – I will always go to PT) and told to ice, elevate, & ibuprofen it up. And so I did.

Friday was a pretty busy day for someone with a not-broken toe. I volunteered at Growing Gardens (I put starts in individual pots and counted tomatoes), finally took my kick-ass prints to get framed (do you have any idea how much framing costs? holy crap is all I can say), and then, stopped by Classic Pianos to scope out the wares.

I had a very specific budget in mind (read: CHEAP) but also had a specific quality in mind (read: not CHEAP sounding). They were so nice to me! I told the sales guy my budget, he took me to the area of the store with those pianos, left me alone to pound on the keys for awhile, and then when I picked out my favorite piano in the store, told me it was twice my price rang (of course) and helped me find one with comparable sound for half the price.

You all! I bought a piano. It is not the nicest piano in the world, but it is so much better than the one I have now! (I don’t have one now, and it is not working for me.) AND AND AND for as long as I own this piano, if I ever want to trade it in for a better, nicer, grander (in my dreams) piano, they will credit me the full price I paid for this piano towards the purchase of the new one! The piano does not depreciate!

This, even more than buying a house, makes me feel like a grown-up.

This is not my piano, but is a reasonable fascimile there of:

 

(I do not have ugly blue carpet.) As soon as my piano comes to live with me, I will post a picture of the real actual piano (I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of it last Friday!) and you can all be jealous! It is having its hammers refelted, and will come live with me on 5/27/11. YAY!

After piano-ing, I headed out to Zenger Farms for a tour. So awesome. I was so jealous of the tour guide. Her job is to work on an urban farm! And hang out with wealthy donors like me! (I kid about the wealthy part; I am just a regular donor.)

Finally, after a long day of too much walking, I headed back home. The architect & I toured the estate and then headed out to dinner.

Saturday was another busy day. I finalized the gin tasting notes and cocktail menu, made the awesomest cake in the universe, and cleaned up a bit for the gin tasters.

I had such a great time Saturday night imparting my gin passion to others. We did a formal tasting (well, maybe semi-formal) with tasting notes and information and voting, and then had gin cocktails (or, in the case of some people, beer).

The big gin hit of the night was the Bardenay (from Idaho) in the more traditional London Dry category, although the cucumber & spruce Rogue gin was also quite popular.

I introduced a number of people to the awesome French 75 and am looking forward to a lot of warm summer afternoons sipping French 75s on the patio.

Sunday there was a wee bit of clean-up (not too much; must be getting old when the last straggler is gone before 11 pm and the clean-up takes less than 1/2 hour) and then Sarah came over for asparagus pickling! We each made 8 pints of pickled asparagus, and I can’t wait for them to get properly pickled so that I can crack open a jar and make some awesome bloody marys.

The rest of Sunday was devoted to school work and work work. (Boooo…..)

Today my foot is feeling pretty decent. I’m even considering going for a wee little run tomorrow. My first PT appointment is next Wednesday, and I’m positive they told me to run 3 times before the appointment, just to see how it’s holding up.

This is another 5-day work week, but the big pressure should be off after tomorrow, and then we can return to the regular stresses of my job and figuring out how to integrate all of my new responsibilities.

Happy Monday!

98122

In which I discover that I am a vampire

Apr 15th, 2011
by gazelle.
1 comment

Today was my last regular appointment in learning how to stand up straight. Although I have not yet mastered standing up, I have become proficient enough that we moved on to other things – such as the hyperextension in my elbows and lower back. We also talked about overall health issues, etc.

Each week when I’ve been in, my yoga-therapist has taken my pulse. Or at least attempted to take my pulse. I don’t actually really have one. I always knew my pulse was pretty weak, but didn’t realize that in a lot of people, you can feel the pulse by just lightly touching the wrist. Seriously. Did you know that? Are you one of those people?

I am not. My pulse is deep and light. (Actually, last time I went to the doctor for my annual lady bits check-up, the nurse couldn’t even take my blood pressure. Because my blood has no pressure.)

So, in addition to discovering that I am a wee bit odd in the blood pumping department (like that’s the only oddness I have), I also discussed my recent ridiculous craving for red meat. About once a month, I have been seriously, ridiculously, and strongly craving red meat. A lot. And in my head, it doesn’t even necessarily have to be cooked.

I dream about rare steak, and the thought of tiger meat makes my mouth water. The YT suggested that my cravings are probably due to low iron levels at that particular time of the month and that my body just wants blood.

So – no pulse? Check. Craving for blood that cannot be assuaged with a hamburger? Check. Burns in sunlight? I’ll let you know if the sun ever comes out again.

In the meantime, you might want to avoid showing me your neck and start eating a lot of garlic.

Further Accounts of Amy’s Awkward Adventures

Apr 8th, 2010
by gazelle.
7 comments

Oh, gentle readers – I realize that it has been a very long time since I’ve shared with you a tale of me doing something clumsy, or humiliating (or, when the planets align – both at the same time). Fortunately, this very morning, I was able to fall down so that I could tell you a story.

First – I must set the scene.

Me: A woman. Carrying a large purse, a lunch bag, and holding a cup of coffee. Wearing a very cute dress + sensible shoes (very sensible, stupid Damian).

You: A bus. You are running late, which means I get to hop on  you instead of waiting 8 minutes for my (usual) bus.

Other factors: It has been sprinkling. Things are damp. You (the bus) are stopped at a red light.

AND – ACTION!

I was pretty excited that the #35 was at the stop as I hopped off bus #1. Usually I have a 7 minute wait between buses, but I guess the previous bus was running late. So I hopped on.

I was walking to my seat (as one does), and the bus, despite being stopped at a red light, decided that in order to be FULLY PREPARED for the light turning green, should jump (did you even know buses could jump?) the five or so feet from the bus stop to the intersection.

At that point, my body attempted to do the splits. My left foot slipped out from under me. My right foot stayed put. My left hand, carrying the all-important coffee, went backwards. My right hand, carrying the less important purse + lunch went in a completely different direction.

Fortunately, I only spilled one drop of coffee. (Those who know me will attest to my uncanny ability to fall with full beverages without spilling a drop. I protect what’s important.)

My legs overestimated my flexibility – perhaps thinking that the recent yoga classes had developed more stretchiness than was actual.

I landed flat on my ass. My first thought was – “My dress better not be dirty.”

My second thought was, “I can’t believe I just fell down wearing a dress. Hey, mister! Eyes up here!”

And my third thought: “This wouldn’t have happened if I was wearing heels.” (True story – I have never fallen down in heels. But put a pair of flat shoes on me, and I enter clumsy city.)

The light turned green. The bus drive gunned it through the intersection. I sat, awkwardly splayed in the middle of the aisle, trying to get up without spilling my coffee.

The peeper (one of only three other people on the bus – I get on at one of the first stops) came & helped me up. Once I was seated, the bus driver (by now several jerky blocks away) asked if I was okay.

I briefly contemplated feeling humiliated, but then decided that was a waste of good blush, so decided to be irritated instead. My office mate confirmed that my dress is not dirty at all, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an awesome bruise on my left cheek. It actually kinda hurts to sit now.

So – once more, gravity had its way with me, but it can’t keep me down, man! Or, actually , it pretty much can, but I will continue to fight the good fight, and attempt to stay upright for a little while longer.

****

The man who helped me up? The peeper? Was a tiny old Asian man wearing a Durex ball cap. Which was weird, right?

Well, shit….

Apr 3rd, 2010
by gazelle.
7 comments

I had my podiatrist appointment yesterday. Immediately after I sent the following text messages.

To the architect: “worst day ever. home in 30 minutes.”

To the Ambitious One & my kick-ass neighbor: “FUCK. I have to have surgery.”

So – apparently my foot is a mutant foot. But not a cool X-Man mutant foot with interesting super powers or awesome adamantium spikes or anything. Instead, the bones in my fourth & fifth toe are apparently trying to escape and go west (young man).

The podiatrist said I had a few choices.

  1. Continue on the toe path that I am on. Run. Wear hot shoes. Be unable to wear any shoes at all within five years.
  2. Stop running and wear Danskos. Be unable to wear any shoes at all within 10 years. Also get fat. (He didn’t say that last part, that was just implied.)
  3. Run carefully and wear crap shoes for the next couple of months. No marathons. Have surgery within six months. No cardio at all for two months after surgery (when pressed, he said I could do sit-ups for exercise during my two month recovery – and then I killed him and hid his body). Walk for one month. Three and one half months after surgery, I should be up to running two whole miles in a row. In a few years have surgery on my left foot. Repeat.

It’s possible that this is the point I cried. At my podiatrist appointment. Podiatrist is a runner, though, and said he got it. (And also, when did I become the person who cries at the idea of not being able to work out for TWO WHOLE MONTHS and then only getting to walk [walking is BORING! and SLOW!] for another month after that.

So, I didn’t actually ask about amputation -and judging from the look on his face when I suggested just removing a toe so I could have more graceful-looking feet  – it’s probably best I didn’t. (Also, when I showed him a ‘typical work shoe’ I thought he was going to pass out. I’m glad I showed him my (fairly sensible) boots and not my (super hot, kick-ass, awesome) Kenneth Cole stilettos.)

So, apparently the problem is that my mutant right foot has a bunionette on the bottom of my small toes. Bunions are typically on the big toe side, but my feet are just special. (Also, bunionette sounds so cute and anyone who saw Damian, as I have named my bump, knows he’s far from cute.)

So, everytime I wear closed-toe shoes, it pushes the top bone in my pinky toe to the left. Which causes that metatarsal to go right. Which causes Damian to get more pronounced. My fourth toe is also taking part in the fun, and is trying to conquer the middle toe, and the top toe bone on the fourth toe is barely still associated with its fellow bones. (I wish I’d gotten ahold of the XRays so I could make an illustrated diagram for you.)

Unless my last two toes are surgically straightened, they will continue to migrate and form a “V” shape on the outside of my left foot. Apparently, during one run, I irritated Damian enough that he developed an infection. Although that infection has now died down, it will never completely go away at this point, unless (as the podiatrist suggested) I move to Kenya and become a barefoot runner who is also barefoot the rest of the time as well.

So – the plan:

The podiatrist did some surgery on my running shoe – ripping some seams to give Damian a little more room. I am going to run tomorrow. If it doesn’t hurt, I am going to continue to run and will do the half marathon in Eugene.  If Damian is still being good, I am going to continue with my planned summer – triathlons, wine country half, etc. and then have surgery in the fall. I just can’t imagine being out of commission for two months during the best weather of the year. If I have to stay inside and sulk, I’d rather do it when the weather supports my mood (hello November).

The immediate change that needs to be made, though, is I need to find some work appropriate shoes that won’t irritate Damian. I’ve been wearing running shoes for the past three weeks, and that’s just not going to cut it. Also, I am wondering if I should get my pants all hemmed up again. Currently they are all hemmed to accommodate 3-inch heels. (Oh my god, what if I can never wear heels again?)

Blah. (And also, I may have walked around my house last night drinking a beer and cradling my Kenneth Coles in my arms whispering about my eternal and undying love for them, no matter who is trying to get between us.)

So – that’s the scoop. Totally makes me wish that I’d followed my heart and canceled the podiatrist appointment when Damian started to disappear last week. Now I’m stuck with this knowledge and can’t just ignore it. Especially since I’ve now told the internets about it.

I am really pretty upset, which is ridiculous. As I told the podiatrist when I was trying to recover from crying in his office – it’s not like I have cancer. Or that this is in any way life threatening. (Although this does completely put the kibosh on plans to go to Italy this fall. We may be vacationing in Vancouver. Washington. I have a feeling that foot surgery is expensive.) It’s a foot. It’s two months of wearing a surgical boot. It will save me pain and agony in the future. It’s not that big of a deal.

It’s fine. Really it is.

fuck.

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