tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76811350196999680862024-02-19T00:24:04.883-05:00Physikerin Knitsand bakes, and runs, and travels...physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.comBlogger198125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-60727868397947926222022-11-23T22:55:00.003-05:002023-02-10T12:41:44.951-05:00Dead Horse Ultra 50k<p> For the <a href="https://www.madmooseevents.com/dead-horse-ultra">Dead Horse Ultra</a> 50k in Moab, Utah, on November 19, 2022, the official race distance was 30.5 miles and my official finish time is was 8:35:49. 🥳 </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJJ-39edBL7CBOnzxGlLTP58BvoMYYoAE8CySxLfnw3LIlBjSGwnigkSqIKlvyW-ESTvS1EEzGNIAe4Pdau2mikny-cTrpCoCZxP_bITkSyPLDRbsekxWhDmYxPIOIQS8-1C2ExKJYkddYJ-575cmdtAtXrovxFJ9wU2wCgJ86HsV2Wvuqr1Jy4Tv/s4032/PXL_20221119_005802150.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJJ-39edBL7CBOnzxGlLTP58BvoMYYoAE8CySxLfnw3LIlBjSGwnigkSqIKlvyW-ESTvS1EEzGNIAe4Pdau2mikny-cTrpCoCZxP_bITkSyPLDRbsekxWhDmYxPIOIQS8-1C2ExKJYkddYJ-575cmdtAtXrovxFJ9wU2wCgJ86HsV2Wvuqr1Jy4Tv/s320/PXL_20221119_005802150.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7t85icBmrubh8GhSWP5AMkzKoOxHrU_nB142Yo0nF5tFLXrC_Y1TW-N2Y8gbkgJWXQOtSAqXivE4fBhpuABgphNtfzZskjj033rXhd8rF9MJOxpL-9xRukX7PvsRVnSy544igmIbEy5tDDq4vyeSAoj2MPFd-WBmNd53LAcvZukmF3eNNOUxSngv/s1198/Screenshot%202022-11-23%20at%2020.51.53.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1198" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7t85icBmrubh8GhSWP5AMkzKoOxHrU_nB142Yo0nF5tFLXrC_Y1TW-N2Y8gbkgJWXQOtSAqXivE4fBhpuABgphNtfzZskjj033rXhd8rF9MJOxpL-9xRukX7PvsRVnSy544igmIbEy5tDDq4vyeSAoj2MPFd-WBmNd53LAcvZukmF3eNNOUxSngv/s320/Screenshot%202022-11-23%20at%2020.51.53.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvTZtrtSvYY7vCcOnTDTQLEcRCCDIoHm9NAEiM6gilBySJ7hk_g3TIo6_L5JX8D1xs4UM_D3kp52MOBM1DCyftrUehqqkNslZJ6B1i2DVyChxZPgCQ5mEJi6RQW7sWJINU45uhvyEXONE-WSjyqijnecRN6Q5RHx4FifOdbtNhNEWlae4xuU3-joH/s1800/Screenshot%202022-11-23%20at%2020.52.04.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="1800" height="109" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvTZtrtSvYY7vCcOnTDTQLEcRCCDIoHm9NAEiM6gilBySJ7hk_g3TIo6_L5JX8D1xs4UM_D3kp52MOBM1DCyftrUehqqkNslZJ6B1i2DVyChxZPgCQ5mEJi6RQW7sWJINU45uhvyEXONE-WSjyqijnecRN6Q5RHx4FifOdbtNhNEWlae4xuU3-joH/s320/Screenshot%202022-11-23%20at%2020.52.04.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost 2900' of gain.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Third time was the charm for my first 50k! I'd signed up for one in 2017 (then tore my calf and DNFed an Ironman) and one in May 2022 (then strained my calf/Achilles, and the race was cancelled anyway due to forest fires). When calf tightness cropped up two weeks ago, I though oooooh no. Not agaaaaain! Plus, my knees got crunchy soon after, and I felt like I was falling apart. I just wanted this race to be DONE. Anxiety threatened to consume me, but the beautiful drive to Moab really lifted my spirits. How could I not have a great day in this amazing land, even if I had to drop out partway through? Nestled on BLM land in between Arches National Park, Canyonlands National Park, and Dead Horse Point State Park (hence the name), Dead Horse Ultra promised to be gorgeous. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGpFzsmj-nYvoz3WlBVXN5LAxpYWIH-Km8ik7s3PvYrMisgRm4G0_DfwERpE55nEglnlqP-jton9Mq1oMD0GBTi2X9St9-1oBmVqcIzCya7-LtZllg8HJfl6wfQgoWhSLNRDXMMfDkiLkxx1MKV8Rh_VRPYiqwJH2OURmgNWGLc8QUxe-MwvKcW3G/s4032/PXL_20221118_223945598~2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfGpFzsmj-nYvoz3WlBVXN5LAxpYWIH-Km8ik7s3PvYrMisgRm4G0_DfwERpE55nEglnlqP-jton9Mq1oMD0GBTi2X9St9-1oBmVqcIzCya7-LtZllg8HJfl6wfQgoWhSLNRDXMMfDkiLkxx1MKV8Rh_VRPYiqwJH2OURmgNWGLc8QUxe-MwvKcW3G/s320/PXL_20221118_223945598~2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLtADLLsKUYnrOCM2_2lrfTcABOiQ6tRdqaB4ofMkbRR5Gpz99ZJJ_OOLZ2nYttKkZg9csi92bkT6ucUG5SxfKTevPdVc2LfDf9rUnAiqc0DlQ3It3dbCbcjsTX0_PWkBdD5K6izE1w7VkTcbYbpiNrNa2Yr2WjPAcvt16Eb0axbteWbC3YC9zOh9/s4032/PXL_20221119_011442216.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLtADLLsKUYnrOCM2_2lrfTcABOiQ6tRdqaB4ofMkbRR5Gpz99ZJJ_OOLZ2nYttKkZg9csi92bkT6ucUG5SxfKTevPdVc2LfDf9rUnAiqc0DlQ3It3dbCbcjsTX0_PWkBdD5K6izE1w7VkTcbYbpiNrNa2Yr2WjPAcvt16Eb0axbteWbC3YC9zOh9/s320/PXL_20221119_011442216.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyglR1sCHVKJe4Kzbcb7kXHHLwCM83hRygnAQVjMnFSUrOJAhKS-3HolmlICBTF8wDFogFdi714W6k2lLBS8tfRDLLcyZ-yGntTaeDXe1oJSz_7m3NTIW9lEjzIKgd7IwdNM3dTcTqy5x6MuHatKQJDo_maWjY5-d-ADjPvvmqM3ISiog_nvIuDxjd/s4032/PXL_20221119_011736479.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyglR1sCHVKJe4Kzbcb7kXHHLwCM83hRygnAQVjMnFSUrOJAhKS-3HolmlICBTF8wDFogFdi714W6k2lLBS8tfRDLLcyZ-yGntTaeDXe1oJSz_7m3NTIW9lEjzIKgd7IwdNM3dTcTqy5x6MuHatKQJDo_maWjY5-d-ADjPvvmqM3ISiog_nvIuDxjd/s320/PXL_20221119_011736479.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div>I create a Flat Runner the night before every big race.</div></div><br /><p>The morning dawned frigidly at a cool 20F (-7C). Nausea prevented me from finishing my breakfast of toasted bagel, peanut butter, honey, and banana. Greeeeat start. Jasper was as comforting as he could be, driving me to the Gemini Bridges trailhead, and hanging out while I shivered in my ski coat. </p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85Ql4tZyrOISqfFCecCEWUR6DiyaKCeq33UJJGAiyTJzGUABlQvs99F_ZDNu2Dil0A4I_8zYYh1KvSXWzh5_rb6V4w88uxinoI3cScQ--izClW9Huec-t-v3xzCHpCxRo0ZvY501Djp1y0gPSRzhn2nrkIkdfGXTrqmloa8saxOgRQ2mEU-PnPl8O/s4080/PXL_20221119_131845309.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85Ql4tZyrOISqfFCecCEWUR6DiyaKCeq33UJJGAiyTJzGUABlQvs99F_ZDNu2Dil0A4I_8zYYh1KvSXWzh5_rb6V4w88uxinoI3cScQ--izClW9Huec-t-v3xzCHpCxRo0ZvY501Djp1y0gPSRzhn2nrkIkdfGXTrqmloa8saxOgRQ2mEU-PnPl8O/s320/PXL_20221119_131845309.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nervously leaving our Moab Springs Ranch bungalow.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVhNBXChR-6HaHMfnJn_TI5mNV6_xViP-0Ftbz8OF3gPGTsNtx7Wjt3rdrn9nYawHZq1exlkLKjhqBSfZUnTPn4Zgpvl4FFeUfgEN4okxQQJbfIweDJ0lcv1r_btP0NUw6q9KXKRbkcDrWlamYXQ9gF4mn84uPn1LAWVQLlAtPOkEjKNJKywmVTflR/s4032/PXL_20221119_132914232.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVhNBXChR-6HaHMfnJn_TI5mNV6_xViP-0Ftbz8OF3gPGTsNtx7Wjt3rdrn9nYawHZq1exlkLKjhqBSfZUnTPn4Zgpvl4FFeUfgEN4okxQQJbfIweDJ0lcv1r_btP0NUw6q9KXKRbkcDrWlamYXQ9gF4mn84uPn1LAWVQLlAtPOkEjKNJKywmVTflR/s320/PXL_20221119_132914232.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We spied the 50-milers' headlamps midway up this mesa.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlW8Bc_m3d-PjdHFGfbJHeQnAeRB6Q0nNcVMGeQrtjs5fNwvAXcSw-1gRXu0b6hQNHvNDUNkDlDOCF0V1NHfU5CxdMXuLY2d94wXL94Ci5iC2j0FyG9FT5X8E-iFAunFuMHNnPqY_exrLIUQtv5SdH54hjeA1LUTyLC648cxK6Cfu8HOA7i6lcjc_/s3264/PXL_20221119_134710694.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlW8Bc_m3d-PjdHFGfbJHeQnAeRB6Q0nNcVMGeQrtjs5fNwvAXcSw-1gRXu0b6hQNHvNDUNkDlDOCF0V1NHfU5CxdMXuLY2d94wXL94Ci5iC2j0FyG9FT5X8E-iFAunFuMHNnPqY_exrLIUQtv5SdH54hjeA1LUTyLC648cxK6Cfu8HOA7i6lcjc_/s320/PXL_20221119_134710694.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was Sweet Race Husband's birthday!!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0FXNbvdFIzzGmVGxOrefmvxKXFOYilo5v2LhuCerwAB6BGgO9O6E3J6AZSRz2qHuP38NkFBXsZoryt7TGHE1dNQpjDdnTw0yQYUOSbameFtxnNXqURS1ACAZlg1FBhBLveW7TwI9LknL_0L8jCX-2v9yLT34dqehW-JvLkS5wS0O-NgDAg8IOnxo/s4080/PXL_20221119_140344090.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0FXNbvdFIzzGmVGxOrefmvxKXFOYilo5v2LhuCerwAB6BGgO9O6E3J6AZSRz2qHuP38NkFBXsZoryt7TGHE1dNQpjDdnTw0yQYUOSbameFtxnNXqURS1ACAZlg1FBhBLveW7TwI9LknL_0L8jCX-2v9yLT34dqehW-JvLkS5wS0O-NgDAg8IOnxo/s320/PXL_20221119_140344090.jpg" width="241" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-qVSSmRg_oBrh_rb89omYNa3IIFSIKBsewPc0QN6RmYgc-djDbDHbKB5oXGrzJSSJvPg6mJTKuPtvM8lHHTcQcp1l2dOUqn4wf621QQ5WTbu9hiwXJ44ySAJsIbfeR2ETlG5Aaim7ASTug9FQK4obys6A_TWReKu0TZKXpuNmFM7F3FBpHwSCNqF/s4080/PXL_20221119_140346681.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-qVSSmRg_oBrh_rb89omYNa3IIFSIKBsewPc0QN6RmYgc-djDbDHbKB5oXGrzJSSJvPg6mJTKuPtvM8lHHTcQcp1l2dOUqn4wf621QQ5WTbu9hiwXJ44ySAJsIbfeR2ETlG5Aaim7ASTug9FQK4obys6A_TWReKu0TZKXpuNmFM7F3FBpHwSCNqF/s320/PXL_20221119_140346681.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jasper: "I tried so hard to take a nice picture of you before the race..."</div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Wave 3 lined up just before 7:10am, and then...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEFYLFq3oAdvaa467cv7qOv3sgidaMp3kfxzbE8nUAbIiiSFvvKRtNjW9UnLjz64GUkn2nfHD9YwT2SSrOW2mWNBf5vZ4rtX9DAdTNpdA3K2tnkZnW95eER5Gma_PqsTLzOtU0ksV3MLSMlfOmq8D4woNFCzW-RCaXSd_OeEGFyhgYm8n4kEFAXtP/s4080/PXL_20221119_141039017.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEFYLFq3oAdvaa467cv7qOv3sgidaMp3kfxzbE8nUAbIiiSFvvKRtNjW9UnLjz64GUkn2nfHD9YwT2SSrOW2mWNBf5vZ4rtX9DAdTNpdA3K2tnkZnW95eER5Gma_PqsTLzOtU0ksV3MLSMlfOmq8D4woNFCzW-RCaXSd_OeEGFyhgYm8n4kEFAXtP/s320/PXL_20221119_141039017.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">We were off and running! My nerves disappeared! Because my legs and hands were numb, nothing hurt! 😂 The course started with two of the steepest miles, which thoroughly warmed me. The rising sun brightened the red rocks as well as my mood, and I couldn't stop smiling as I ran down the other side and onto a few miles of mostly flat jeep road, snaking between rocky cliffs. A woman passed me as we climbed, and I passed her again at this point. (I'd later learn her name is Seana.) </span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2R0IgyuEaO8BMJIAB3F8957PrEdojXT4PgqgJVX6VibT7awcl-wWFzb1leu_-E-l412pqxw0RemLEClpGWeHRRTQV7WHctAcR4LiFLQAQaUZsciXSChv-vvT6lEMYYAydtQhLfnuXtH1CYtdW-svljrhpCdLp5jR7TVorWfZbgbClfb0ipQrqxoR/s4080/PXL_20221119_141140656.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2R0IgyuEaO8BMJIAB3F8957PrEdojXT4PgqgJVX6VibT7awcl-wWFzb1leu_-E-l412pqxw0RemLEClpGWeHRRTQV7WHctAcR4LiFLQAQaUZsciXSChv-vvT6lEMYYAydtQhLfnuXtH1CYtdW-svljrhpCdLp5jR7TVorWfZbgbClfb0ipQrqxoR/s320/PXL_20221119_141140656.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCNgTDC2WuGaemKbw2CDdJ0h8Mtb2n7jg-Mp5e8hNWNPKzTewfae-q0alrua71MmLWIU2OPaoRoUt4FOdL2_cCPv95hWQoqeCc8CE3ZoegpXqd-Kd0MAfbzOE0vG4RrhUbY2J11WuxLPYnSqli9faa6xw-Oxc0XNzu3VAdVSfmGaqAIFANqQqCwwp/s4080/PXL_20221119_141141827.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCNgTDC2WuGaemKbw2CDdJ0h8Mtb2n7jg-Mp5e8hNWNPKzTewfae-q0alrua71MmLWIU2OPaoRoUt4FOdL2_cCPv95hWQoqeCc8CE3ZoegpXqd-Kd0MAfbzOE0vG4RrhUbY2J11WuxLPYnSqli9faa6xw-Oxc0XNzu3VAdVSfmGaqAIFANqQqCwwp/s320/PXL_20221119_141141827.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyysFCJBj8eo86FoHlHSnKsXiTmp25UeXH7xVw6kq8T55RbaRrDIY7kIWTFhUeRxZaYVC7AJfR7tFuRvkhS-o0fpP2IO5uzpUHsXB6QNTms3rs6JeIf-AUTDZBHhd42quyKTVOFW0n8wvTd9DncSdx7PD0O5-RVT2HD1kpJB-k_U75mDO2Xw9gcRM/s4032/PXL_20221119_142354160.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyysFCJBj8eo86FoHlHSnKsXiTmp25UeXH7xVw6kq8T55RbaRrDIY7kIWTFhUeRxZaYVC7AJfR7tFuRvkhS-o0fpP2IO5uzpUHsXB6QNTms3rs6JeIf-AUTDZBHhd42quyKTVOFW0n8wvTd9DncSdx7PD0O5-RVT2HD1kpJB-k_U75mDO2Xw9gcRM/s320/PXL_20221119_142354160.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD486w2zki3RixGK0m7MUTll_OyKjLjVgVlsiLwFpsN2ixPUsGHwyLlJVt-dvjPIP-dUnOpuPk3qPLhBEzD8DtF8jMlvErn8J0eLDx53QX2hQLvbJ3u9Bttktdj4k-YTYPsPk8lJhQzQR7vvHdhaBOi_BeJ24wd5Dzv4r_B3_UuBjfhiuhH9G8WXiF/s4032/PXL_20221119_142356369.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD486w2zki3RixGK0m7MUTll_OyKjLjVgVlsiLwFpsN2ixPUsGHwyLlJVt-dvjPIP-dUnOpuPk3qPLhBEzD8DtF8jMlvErn8J0eLDx53QX2hQLvbJ3u9Bttktdj4k-YTYPsPk8lJhQzQR7vvHdhaBOi_BeJ24wd5Dzv4r_B3_UuBjfhiuhH9G8WXiF/s320/PXL_20221119_142356369.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seana!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaMgdVSaL7kOiv_qpaih5gGkAY5BmddnMQ3wwiV3Yz_FR49Zo7m3DWQuVoyqBV_70g-JCu2ZjVmoOYLRPXB7RF_mS1-1kXRJ5813l9QDY9AgGp02oJcI7kOmaegKi3dpCEhs-5OHhw3caUXfPTmz7VOwkuwCOndVcDDJDoPUKUfpvvKPcSYOtNf8X/s4032/PXL_20221119_143803483.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaMgdVSaL7kOiv_qpaih5gGkAY5BmddnMQ3wwiV3Yz_FR49Zo7m3DWQuVoyqBV_70g-JCu2ZjVmoOYLRPXB7RF_mS1-1kXRJ5813l9QDY9AgGp02oJcI7kOmaegKi3dpCEhs-5OHhw3caUXfPTmz7VOwkuwCOndVcDDJDoPUKUfpvvKPcSYOtNf8X/s320/PXL_20221119_143803483.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNoykJ5y8dqT8an1oEkrdbRAB6-zpHK9EP7XFoMyxu1EyDfkciuiY8QQgeAciyuF0ANz6ieNTEwddVaXNoRxakhJ01G90mcHNOBv0VP-r-HOD19CEmHYuK7ZH-RA3lzloddhi0pRjnvV4TkBFZ9f1mBuymH8UH_Vs3CV2Hgtq2QWsib4SU65RbfuZ/s4032/PXL_20221119_144211464.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPNoykJ5y8dqT8an1oEkrdbRAB6-zpHK9EP7XFoMyxu1EyDfkciuiY8QQgeAciyuF0ANz6ieNTEwddVaXNoRxakhJ01G90mcHNOBv0VP-r-HOD19CEmHYuK7ZH-RA3lzloddhi0pRjnvV4TkBFZ9f1mBuymH8UH_Vs3CV2Hgtq2QWsib4SU65RbfuZ/s320/PXL_20221119_144211464.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cresting the massive hill</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6Ub3IgGaQDplZSk8G2qHe7XUTDmfX01hnREMC89U9Ex9A9BuBlSIKNgqhQSBvDDkgY8vtIk_tXniSDkFf0CmRO-6smG1PgGtq-f3bWtXyxnXJLPIzJucdMAIk7dUBiuqm0-7sih7ko5mVDCYdozu9Sc7Q1k8lP9TXDgmRac0Gy9L9Bh4SnxPHMPa/s4032/PXL_20221119_144747668.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6Ub3IgGaQDplZSk8G2qHe7XUTDmfX01hnREMC89U9Ex9A9BuBlSIKNgqhQSBvDDkgY8vtIk_tXniSDkFf0CmRO-6smG1PgGtq-f3bWtXyxnXJLPIzJucdMAIk7dUBiuqm0-7sih7ko5mVDCYdozu9Sc7Q1k8lP9TXDgmRac0Gy9L9Bh4SnxPHMPa/s320/PXL_20221119_144747668.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvaQ2QAdj2K9hNw9LgKnZTYsUJ4SuBvGnWlBRk4kWHlgXrbmj9wytLArnIWfl9C9YGdTraGmX-XY6ZKotInmKT6htc7XLxOOof437ksJxRSyEA_LnpTMoxgvcqMFbaLQCURjH6DUQDY-SgZrejz_UdjE-N9KcCRCWuHnBsV_GdpfrFnJr8SYXBtLH/s4032/PXL_20221119_144916981.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFvaQ2QAdj2K9hNw9LgKnZTYsUJ4SuBvGnWlBRk4kWHlgXrbmj9wytLArnIWfl9C9YGdTraGmX-XY6ZKotInmKT6htc7XLxOOof437ksJxRSyEA_LnpTMoxgvcqMFbaLQCURjH6DUQDY-SgZrejz_UdjE-N9KcCRCWuHnBsV_GdpfrFnJr8SYXBtLH/s320/PXL_20221119_144916981.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading into the canyon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uHjB8Y8798SzdKPmOF8XiBOHajINpDget8UyZs5nI_l2Enfcup8MVBaIac33aZCzrBSdl8wgI338TGEGqVhXs_E5dm5Mi113ZefNezC_bTkfu24MgIDCxGyLyXu6oh1AgMKA0qRXsFLQ7nD93rOkhyA-gXIA0Mm4kT2LR2kUZSUgoeZ0llApcwTM/s4032/PXL_20221119_150954092.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uHjB8Y8798SzdKPmOF8XiBOHajINpDget8UyZs5nI_l2Enfcup8MVBaIac33aZCzrBSdl8wgI338TGEGqVhXs_E5dm5Mi113ZefNezC_bTkfu24MgIDCxGyLyXu6oh1AgMKA0qRXsFLQ7nD93rOkhyA-gXIA0Mm4kT2LR2kUZSUgoeZ0llApcwTM/s320/PXL_20221119_150954092.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Aid Station 1 of 5 was at mile 4.5. I refilled my soft flask with water, added my Nuun electrolyte tablet, and continued up the jeep road. Soon, the course turned into single track. I stopped by a bush for some business, hoping I had chosen a spot without the famous Moab cryptobiotic crust (a community of living organisms on the desert floor that can take decades to recover when disturbed). From here, the course became some of the most fun trail I've ever run on! It wasn't as trip-hazard filled, or steep, or exposed as ours can be. Much of it just felt playful. I kept reminding myself to "BE THE TORTOISE,” reining in my pace and walking a lot, knowing my body was iffy and the day long. </p><p>Following blue ribbons and paint on slickrock kept me engaged, as I marveled at the view. I only got "lost" briefly once--suddenly I couldn't see any markers. Two mountain bikers stopped to check on me. They said, "we'll scout for you!! Just a sec!" Soon, they called, "your ribbons are over here!!" And I plodded onward.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38DiWapjc4BBH-_01cos_b7RlO-HEcLMf6qXPiE_X2z8fzAemuc_q3-io-4bVbghdhdpShgznv9rOBp_H4QHAwjVK1PDPA8wTsuYUDn40KCkkDWusCBMCqoMmcu6vASCYPvETfbyq7Zz-v7vAu1Rg3Pr56EwAZwKRsHexKSU277zqqo4PZHpVj43N/s4032/PXL_20221119_162223231.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38DiWapjc4BBH-_01cos_b7RlO-HEcLMf6qXPiE_X2z8fzAemuc_q3-io-4bVbghdhdpShgznv9rOBp_H4QHAwjVK1PDPA8wTsuYUDn40KCkkDWusCBMCqoMmcu6vASCYPvETfbyq7Zz-v7vAu1Rg3Pr56EwAZwKRsHexKSU277zqqo4PZHpVj43N/s320/PXL_20221119_162223231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EzXM4EsJtJY9VGjxoD99ti3N2G_zKQx-5b81_8EOFcGrVwtxtIcWUV0N8_Ck-U_E6OYnV7CrEviIDGEKBXza3hczuYsF3FQSgMfjmc0htRv9KMcZQTD1H3BpXSK-pjdAwkDX70fej9LduM1qcabDV7T6_7bHl7pAeSIZT2cBqaNLluYJoMm5SMrz/s4032/PXL_20221119_172714625.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EzXM4EsJtJY9VGjxoD99ti3N2G_zKQx-5b81_8EOFcGrVwtxtIcWUV0N8_Ck-U_E6OYnV7CrEviIDGEKBXza3hczuYsF3FQSgMfjmc0htRv9KMcZQTD1H3BpXSK-pjdAwkDX70fej9LduM1qcabDV7T6_7bHl7pAeSIZT2cBqaNLluYJoMm5SMrz/s320/PXL_20221119_172714625.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Somewhere before AS 2 at mile 7.5, Seana caught up to me again! She was still power hiking. We chatted our way into the AS, and she convinced me that I needed to slow down even more. She's a medic who does Dead Horse Ultra every year as her base/check in race before training for her 240-milers (she hopes to PR next year and finish in fewer than four days). 😳 She stopped for a while at the AS and said she'd catch up with me. I grabbed Skittles and Swedish Fish and charged forth.</p><p>The course shifted from slickrock to red-dirt trail through scrubby, flat fields. I ran up to a guy on one of his walking breaks and scooted with him through a small herd of docile black cows. He was having a rough day--back problems flared -- and he wasn't sure he was going to finish. A young woman walked back towards us, in tears, heading to the previous AS to drop out as one of HER injuries had flared. Seana caught up at this point, made sure the woman was ok, and we said goodbye. Seana passed the guy and me, power hiking off. Not long after, I said goodbye to the dude. I hope he finished; I didn't catch his name or bib number.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiyo17YxrT6hBeQELyK7Z7pMyErrevMn5nuFrL6Si6Z_w0M-0znaC6DSnfWBmp-CeK0k86f8tC1QbfqzrpDg8cZz609n3Yk87Gyy-Ern-Vmg9iQoaGa-VzPkU5D2Jeo5CtRQeVU2RRtORXwIQhiBvGGVfywEicZ028V9hpwRnhNaq4rHH8WCOMtc9/s4032/PXL_20221119_163216985.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiyo17YxrT6hBeQELyK7Z7pMyErrevMn5nuFrL6Si6Z_w0M-0znaC6DSnfWBmp-CeK0k86f8tC1QbfqzrpDg8cZz609n3Yk87Gyy-Ern-Vmg9iQoaGa-VzPkU5D2Jeo5CtRQeVU2RRtORXwIQhiBvGGVfywEicZ028V9hpwRnhNaq4rHH8WCOMtc9/s320/PXL_20221119_163216985.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNwi_SO40qYNTbjHIHoHZXRc1lNvnA5PgHwoLh0QnP5WEywOPrR6AVLkROC-XYRhLN_eSP38FVSG9NcPgBFvADL2hqos7mAvUI6GmsVrsi0IuUEUoqy55_LDOoSdSgZg91nsPaaPc-bwaEiTuf8_bTHDxsAmsiHdtIX-i-8rrrO9P-3YV-_9Lbiir/s4032/PXL_20221119_172829900.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNwi_SO40qYNTbjHIHoHZXRc1lNvnA5PgHwoLh0QnP5WEywOPrR6AVLkROC-XYRhLN_eSP38FVSG9NcPgBFvADL2hqos7mAvUI6GmsVrsi0IuUEUoqy55_LDOoSdSgZg91nsPaaPc-bwaEiTuf8_bTHDxsAmsiHdtIX-i-8rrrO9P-3YV-_9Lbiir/s320/PXL_20221119_172829900.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJgYbiIgRB3rkqkEeyvrS3Vf5fxuCOmhz-S2Xg6LcXoFPocpmGFPh6UucB-54yZNUdkmKnzt857h9IZYtZ0WMh2obeUvw3xGcXBGZtC_AybljIf3QYhaKC-q_IgKYlxj8FeDWWQmi8KXBi-yeyOokdc4zcnlXgFxmWhAFJzt4HTPLcsX1Lg3sGxss/s4032/PXL_20221119_173827044.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJgYbiIgRB3rkqkEeyvrS3Vf5fxuCOmhz-S2Xg6LcXoFPocpmGFPh6UucB-54yZNUdkmKnzt857h9IZYtZ0WMh2obeUvw3xGcXBGZtC_AybljIf3QYhaKC-q_IgKYlxj8FeDWWQmi8KXBi-yeyOokdc4zcnlXgFxmWhAFJzt4HTPLcsX1Lg3sGxss/s320/PXL_20221119_173827044.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>The next portion reminded me of a moon's surface, or an asteroid...the slickrock is pockmarked with round depressions, many of which were filled with iced-over pools of water. Views of Canyonlands and La Sal Mountain range loomed in the distance against the deep blue sky. Off and on, I listened to my normal eclectic running playlist, Sea Shanty Bangers, Christmas music, and Brave Saint Saturn.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUefHPavZXTgAtfjOV1uR_LJmB6fuHl4nKBsf54AAQGnyF9btScFBg_t126ft9kU5jYJ33cNYZ19c8_go6UKts0vB_lUM7zr_Oi4KSB8fG5HgjPAKeAmxNDotSroYxL_Vyr8xQHZ1nuhISD0gcafdzchRzJyjlKKxDaCs8_SajYr92EKHqfbmNV1kq/s4032/PXL_20221119_155703359.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUefHPavZXTgAtfjOV1uR_LJmB6fuHl4nKBsf54AAQGnyF9btScFBg_t126ft9kU5jYJ33cNYZ19c8_go6UKts0vB_lUM7zr_Oi4KSB8fG5HgjPAKeAmxNDotSroYxL_Vyr8xQHZ1nuhISD0gcafdzchRzJyjlKKxDaCs8_SajYr92EKHqfbmNV1kq/s320/PXL_20221119_155703359.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm43mermw8CAcdPb9JgtKwSwJV4KaSSuQjlniJaHrL10JyMn7XU3LVOr4WxV5meD6rZoeoPHXekNzI0_6_s7-S3a4QI_1AmOPlq7JOd1tJEiu-TopxGs6Zg-TH4f7Zir8RmNGOUc-o5Aqolv2y-hKMOaPnnQWFBV8-BUGrKAPJXiD4W2uCbx_Nr7Nf/s4032/PXL_20221119_155705948.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm43mermw8CAcdPb9JgtKwSwJV4KaSSuQjlniJaHrL10JyMn7XU3LVOr4WxV5meD6rZoeoPHXekNzI0_6_s7-S3a4QI_1AmOPlq7JOd1tJEiu-TopxGs6Zg-TH4f7Zir8RmNGOUc-o5Aqolv2y-hKMOaPnnQWFBV8-BUGrKAPJXiD4W2uCbx_Nr7Nf/s320/PXL_20221119_155705948.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4U1MKF33Zxo4bAOH4DyV1rNK4jGFLabIJMe8UDMy5BVGVwEDw5GoIYp_V9Oc2tbFvnJ3jxFx5zS5tAj8q34vemfL0QIw6dvbOmeiWUz5Orj38Z9uu5OHmrFbrFoN2lOBUZYhstGPZT345Kosl4M9ZUOhExRR04dgKU7HbKQgrbm8dC0xS9LlpSxH/s4032/PXL_20221119_183912519.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4U1MKF33Zxo4bAOH4DyV1rNK4jGFLabIJMe8UDMy5BVGVwEDw5GoIYp_V9Oc2tbFvnJ3jxFx5zS5tAj8q34vemfL0QIw6dvbOmeiWUz5Orj38Z9uu5OHmrFbrFoN2lOBUZYhstGPZT345Kosl4M9ZUOhExRR04dgKU7HbKQgrbm8dC0xS9LlpSxH/s320/PXL_20221119_183912519.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br style="text-align: left;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioPAojIw5HXt9jGSjdmbDzWM7nkG_F9ODd9aex9gWFBd65Leaw6op3ZIeCNC3KIe8PU8Lyd7fvvkwFRR4Y_L10A6UehIirdUkuAZOvlA7Sl7lBkZzxuMDawQk7v9GbBS03T_oEtxTTUYa86N_aQ_47z2ZonElIjWPm7fcSUjvNFULGp8SJj-mJ6SD0/s4032/PXL_20221119_185704692.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioPAojIw5HXt9jGSjdmbDzWM7nkG_F9ODd9aex9gWFBd65Leaw6op3ZIeCNC3KIe8PU8Lyd7fvvkwFRR4Y_L10A6UehIirdUkuAZOvlA7Sl7lBkZzxuMDawQk7v9GbBS03T_oEtxTTUYa86N_aQ_47z2ZonElIjWPm7fcSUjvNFULGp8SJj-mJ6SD0/s320/PXL_20221119_185704692.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><p>Around mile 14, my right hip started hurting, which was super weird. My knees twinged now and again. Both Achilles and/or soleus muscles tightened on the climb, but my gastrocs (main big calf muscle) felt great! </p><p>Elated to reach AS 3 at the turn around point, I grabbed Oreos, fig newtons, and more water. The 50 milers rejoined our course here and I spent the next 15 miles watching out for their speediest runners and letting them pass. They were all encouraging and friendly. I love trail runners. 😍</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLEhbxETbkrk2zpg0-IQPwREiGy4ChYbHpyEzRw7dfGawO0_Ih-fDDk7AmMuhyKteqbqxzx3hz83g997Jt6im3pW0K4Tc_MlMeibgXXsy1cFCLYOWFdt7GtcdT0Tu1qNXJphBSXlhNf8sDqeVv4-i-JOKnjdLCHpqJWI0n_dLRdddtBSk93tWFNzV/s4032/PXL_20221119_192116051.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLEhbxETbkrk2zpg0-IQPwREiGy4ChYbHpyEzRw7dfGawO0_Ih-fDDk7AmMuhyKteqbqxzx3hz83g997Jt6im3pW0K4Tc_MlMeibgXXsy1cFCLYOWFdt7GtcdT0Tu1qNXJphBSXlhNf8sDqeVv4-i-JOKnjdLCHpqJWI0n_dLRdddtBSk93tWFNzV/s320/PXL_20221119_192116051.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tj0Feaw3LkobEi5R9vXhYXWQc0bVG_QDsh658twztSeFb27mX_1FpioBCpKwQBZisaB_yPn1H2-2WM1xT8COBJXJNhaC4fdAvd3xWZOWGQ9HsKLACP-QNypTbNCICQklwkiKRyAjrxxxrrtqMa8gO6VPqXJiFP0TOCT5svvmVkb2hPSvYRbRa2du/s4032/PXL_20221119_193605468.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tj0Feaw3LkobEi5R9vXhYXWQc0bVG_QDsh658twztSeFb27mX_1FpioBCpKwQBZisaB_yPn1H2-2WM1xT8COBJXJNhaC4fdAvd3xWZOWGQ9HsKLACP-QNypTbNCICQklwkiKRyAjrxxxrrtqMa8gO6VPqXJiFP0TOCT5svvmVkb2hPSvYRbRa2du/s320/PXL_20221119_193605468.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOpmTZR8CCHiijrk08PJzrXIYcbKa2tITDska9KNS1QNOR0kqyJdtH2SB5Bp6083tmHpfCUyBsIHv3xjmNHFN1VHVf-yfSNJ-LciznGOkJ1SBEtxQL2z1LKlywfRjRWKzgpSCmiHL2VmfIw7dm8GeSxsts9aSdjIAul27xV-1jvsV2fnKXRRPWzhZ/s4032/PXL_20221119_193611007.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNOpmTZR8CCHiijrk08PJzrXIYcbKa2tITDska9KNS1QNOR0kqyJdtH2SB5Bp6083tmHpfCUyBsIHv3xjmNHFN1VHVf-yfSNJ-LciznGOkJ1SBEtxQL2z1LKlywfRjRWKzgpSCmiHL2VmfIw7dm8GeSxsts9aSdjIAul27xV-1jvsV2fnKXRRPWzhZ/s320/PXL_20221119_193611007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>At AS 3, I again caught up to Seana. We decided to run together for a while! She sort of pulled me along and these were some of the best miles. Our duo became a trio for a bit when we accumulated Brandon, who was also having a rough hip day. He eventually dropped back to walk it out. (He did finish an hour after I did!) And eventually, around mile 18, needed to take more walking breaks for MY hip and Seana yelled back, "SEE YOU AT THE FINISH LINE, LOS ALAMOS!" </p><p>I texted Jasper at every AS, and he kept my parents and friends apprised of my progress. I reached AS 4 (ostensibly mile 21) way faster than he expected, despite hitting a deeply sandy jeep road. Ouch. I used the porta potty, got more water, and snagged more Skittles. My Huma and Gu gels and Honey Stinger waffles kept me energized, but Skittles brought me LIFE. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO7DRKGfJis-XJwxhTBdpKbIct0SoNVAB_xhfnpmSbZ-OT-wWgKxR2i6CtC8klv9bRuY93gGWw5pMRQGU3-uU0uHzbXF8r5Y3bY6rLrgj2NmiNhnL6iXpGuij1e4OSPoNrqR1YzNi_rUVnUghT8DHpYNXDPnLMBvtQmtQxvH_G1ClkcStHDbSnyMj/s4032/PXL_20221119_194950699.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHO7DRKGfJis-XJwxhTBdpKbIct0SoNVAB_xhfnpmSbZ-OT-wWgKxR2i6CtC8klv9bRuY93gGWw5pMRQGU3-uU0uHzbXF8r5Y3bY6rLrgj2NmiNhnL6iXpGuij1e4OSPoNrqR1YzNi_rUVnUghT8DHpYNXDPnLMBvtQmtQxvH_G1ClkcStHDbSnyMj/s320/PXL_20221119_194950699.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I saw this sign soon after AS 4.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5sKwUwCJhQ_a_iW6ch_IIDr1UMd0_CacMYhJtFo7KQKTus5G8HvhACfVkMzxW0cCgzW511RN5vnAjTxiP61j-SStTut6zwijqcRN1MLyV1vsfroo8WIYH1eKsybuo2BqzPXZXd1vgj-Y1CqicyNAwTOzU7flTgEabtYFiHPQVV0upp40SFAqrpmM/s4032/PXL_20221119_194927217.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5sKwUwCJhQ_a_iW6ch_IIDr1UMd0_CacMYhJtFo7KQKTus5G8HvhACfVkMzxW0cCgzW511RN5vnAjTxiP61j-SStTut6zwijqcRN1MLyV1vsfroo8WIYH1eKsybuo2BqzPXZXd1vgj-Y1CqicyNAwTOzU7flTgEabtYFiHPQVV0upp40SFAqrpmM/s320/PXL_20221119_194927217.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Side trip to see the Gemini Bridges!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW1ZhDj2IxLCgIo5MwCv58AxPHuJK84iKU_UtI3AeyA3jVnUCSp1Lzcos8QXwwBPFUmMZlGPk1956HHELunqRGPZjV7vZZyKDRLMXN6LGkz_2LA-vs71_3C_Fg1E9NU6YvXcLnz1mQ1acZxstmEc3UatCTGzAKMPQRbMknczwcX3bg6jR1CX57lgg/s4032/PXL_20221119_195557566.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW1ZhDj2IxLCgIo5MwCv58AxPHuJK84iKU_UtI3AeyA3jVnUCSp1Lzcos8QXwwBPFUmMZlGPk1956HHELunqRGPZjV7vZZyKDRLMXN6LGkz_2LA-vs71_3C_Fg1E9NU6YvXcLnz1mQ1acZxstmEc3UatCTGzAKMPQRbMknczwcX3bg6jR1CX57lgg/s320/PXL_20221119_195557566.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJ4Egzpp84Rc6GRCigPWDLpZTIXOD7yYu9DiXqSxbnt0tF6RWxAnKS2AnRLJmBNLAPTFdsJyXiVYcUKnQWWHVZYifJO5X0_SZNgPD--6roEZr7_NR5eho3lf7gEfGfilJFKlASNqvvSGhPPhnESiIZyNjrFAAmhDw4WLurkmD9WYa0zzBXPp2mThC/s4032/PXL_20221119_200113936.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJ4Egzpp84Rc6GRCigPWDLpZTIXOD7yYu9DiXqSxbnt0tF6RWxAnKS2AnRLJmBNLAPTFdsJyXiVYcUKnQWWHVZYifJO5X0_SZNgPD--6roEZr7_NR5eho3lf7gEfGfilJFKlASNqvvSGhPPhnESiIZyNjrFAAmhDw4WLurkmD9WYa0zzBXPp2mThC/s320/PXL_20221119_200113936.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlT1qkCWZEhvK74U5l1_QWG3h_i3-17y5jqa9OZOGMUa4ffz1TD6yB84KONEwQefL2GOilDHGR7vMAYto3g8x724eAmr8TmmtHXSswuw3KbYUy0ac-expbDyjmq0337Pbo2kGL1QHUCDNlcDxXUVbw28RGKhQYc3j2iW4-nii2xZG_zmK7Mrx4ps_/s3264/PXL_20221119_200127460.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlT1qkCWZEhvK74U5l1_QWG3h_i3-17y5jqa9OZOGMUa4ffz1TD6yB84KONEwQefL2GOilDHGR7vMAYto3g8x724eAmr8TmmtHXSswuw3KbYUy0ac-expbDyjmq0337Pbo2kGL1QHUCDNlcDxXUVbw28RGKhQYc3j2iW4-nii2xZG_zmK7Mrx4ps_/s320/PXL_20221119_200127460.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFTpk2vh_HGCCtkU4gMyF3caWUDlWN8r5pb-41N54Y_qOzjyeXPWSJbN16B_Kr9As6eF7RxxYyE7xSTqAXOMr6ggbQJQFqyWdKqocpvMTuJ9sG1EBxw48r8F2EFF79tZ_lGjJEri2XYe3W0JVtrzrISN5avMHCDBgltty6b4LF8oLAtFnpI_BoV8G/s4032/PXL_20221119_204243120.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFTpk2vh_HGCCtkU4gMyF3caWUDlWN8r5pb-41N54Y_qOzjyeXPWSJbN16B_Kr9As6eF7RxxYyE7xSTqAXOMr6ggbQJQFqyWdKqocpvMTuJ9sG1EBxw48r8F2EFF79tZ_lGjJEri2XYe3W0JVtrzrISN5avMHCDBgltty6b4LF8oLAtFnpI_BoV8G/s320/PXL_20221119_204243120.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;">My two complaints about this race: they promised peanut butter tortilla wraps and I never saw any, and the last five miles were full of Jeeps and dirt bikes, kicking up dust. 🙄</p><p style="text-align: left;">After mile 21, I stopped having a great time. Joints all really hurt from pounding on the slickrock, so I walked. A lot. A lot a lot. I noticed blisters on my feet (but for real, 21 miles with happy feet is amazing for me). I lost an earbud. My remaining earbud and I slogged along, praying for resilience, and thanking the Lord that over 2/3 of the race was just so FUN. (God really was there, I am so incredibly grateful.) </p><p style="text-align: left;">Just before the final AS, we hit more deep sand. Fast 50 milers would trudge past me and stop to walk it out. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Finally, I arrived at AS 5! Also, AS 1, it was at the end/beginning of the stick of the lollipop course. One of the volunteers remembered me for my purple hair and told me it turned orange. (?????????? Thanks for trying to make me laugh, dude.) I forgot to get water, but did get Reese's peanut butter cups, so WINNING. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The final 4.5 miles was back through the canyon with red rock cliffs along the not-too-sandy jeep road. I texted Jasper when I began the final climb. Just keep swimming. </p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_8_UVsRGUKRRfpUPuDEiX35JEbqAScsNWPZfPzk1a2ufdkVdJ6fpn8osEDVuA1VMzu_9nrJ6dKXJXTHgRNcyXXKpEx6OXa34zb0e8RkS7nwt2IbOHMQONXCBnWpHj5YhjPEaB5az06Nlger2fyFOlieuAzpAv38FlGwuomgPGthPo0hM2QFiD-Sa/s4032/PXL_20221119_212055735.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_8_UVsRGUKRRfpUPuDEiX35JEbqAScsNWPZfPzk1a2ufdkVdJ6fpn8osEDVuA1VMzu_9nrJ6dKXJXTHgRNcyXXKpEx6OXa34zb0e8RkS7nwt2IbOHMQONXCBnWpHj5YhjPEaB5az06Nlger2fyFOlieuAzpAv38FlGwuomgPGthPo0hM2QFiD-Sa/s320/PXL_20221119_212055735.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Candy brings life. Especially Reeses.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwYw4QdjQuWl2XpJ77L2ywXCToo_E0GlzZt480YXjONI8ip_4cC9KOPw5XIjYMJzHo5IK_1Q0cOkVk1NzbHxvBZgYLrs8ydIPyIkf3H5cpQifJT56TWusOdLCbR1PPELKwItxSa1HHoB6oALo2vAGIEWhzxg7_uiZKyffqMfwjal8sNze4dUqTUxC/s4032/PXL_20221119_212251225.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPwYw4QdjQuWl2XpJ77L2ywXCToo_E0GlzZt480YXjONI8ip_4cC9KOPw5XIjYMJzHo5IK_1Q0cOkVk1NzbHxvBZgYLrs8ydIPyIkf3H5cpQifJT56TWusOdLCbR1PPELKwItxSa1HHoB6oALo2vAGIEWhzxg7_uiZKyffqMfwjal8sNze4dUqTUxC/s320/PXL_20221119_212251225.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back on the stick of the lollipop course!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXuzeOpUM5mz-LQqhNxuGda164n7Se5e3Xtz0ptjDAowFvFT08nvRa6opufhtwDtWt9zopaQ0zBhqtG3cFi4nGA6sl1UD_7mSTaM6dh4paReWqP8zm_Rgl0xXU4nFWh__1jgMF0zsrN4HRIQ8RtJTMRrWIBqHg7TokLPxQ72ntJlbI9vVWbKDER4V/s4032/PXL_20221119_212801421.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXuzeOpUM5mz-LQqhNxuGda164n7Se5e3Xtz0ptjDAowFvFT08nvRa6opufhtwDtWt9zopaQ0zBhqtG3cFi4nGA6sl1UD_7mSTaM6dh4paReWqP8zm_Rgl0xXU4nFWh__1jgMF0zsrN4HRIQ8RtJTMRrWIBqHg7TokLPxQ72ntJlbI9vVWbKDER4V/s320/PXL_20221119_212801421.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The landmark signalling just a few miles left.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbx_TEW6tj0NGPrgR6yrHD74lVZZoz3cbJd_Yzb2LwL79eG6GgfiquAjcfl2yCin8y4QxbcrGIQL520u7eZrmDRF9XXQDcNPHrhYwWerx3kKE93a06IHszXvyYnaJrLzqhb-yREbe-bXazmhxjCjeu0EyxXkkhxgTJNA5Ulw2IUo3OelDegHBxI6An/s4032/PXL_20221119_213621701.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbx_TEW6tj0NGPrgR6yrHD74lVZZoz3cbJd_Yzb2LwL79eG6GgfiquAjcfl2yCin8y4QxbcrGIQL520u7eZrmDRF9XXQDcNPHrhYwWerx3kKE93a06IHszXvyYnaJrLzqhb-yREbe-bXazmhxjCjeu0EyxXkkhxgTJNA5Ulw2IUo3OelDegHBxI6An/s320/PXL_20221119_213621701.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9fgK1RWYZ3AEd10NtH9lE20mBbEnuKZ73bn0AoKkH_GbzmnP8MfECZV9Zf5aG4XKuIwwoxgu3MZMiYprWkJmqHg2wwk6YE7h_D5X951t6bBrKirP1ED18R7UYYz7DNpwBhif3jVsnoIFi7_rdapnLIHGvuJ_L8gm0rHT666d8WtI-ngzGGmW1HTu/s4032/PXL_20221119_213624414.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9fgK1RWYZ3AEd10NtH9lE20mBbEnuKZ73bn0AoKkH_GbzmnP8MfECZV9Zf5aG4XKuIwwoxgu3MZMiYprWkJmqHg2wwk6YE7h_D5X951t6bBrKirP1ED18R7UYYz7DNpwBhif3jVsnoIFi7_rdapnLIHGvuJ_L8gm0rHT666d8WtI-ngzGGmW1HTu/s320/PXL_20221119_213624414.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>At the top, I cried brief tears of relief and joy as I spotted the parking lot and finish line way down below! Only two miles left!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8XS10FsX-o3Sbs2pnfPeF1egf2p-gojtxxz-ZagDhVlzLnrSEKAzvrASr4Yy4R9XiNh-wlhmf_P4teYOWA5J2MDcA8YiOiHz8Eu-GNzjyV0jfK6cmV4kORq91osTFd0Sur0rVBj0jkclyZ3oyDJ61qc1NRuT3-5_ic7S6pAjtxQYr6AacRYb4Yvk/s4032/PXL_20221119_220508981.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8XS10FsX-o3Sbs2pnfPeF1egf2p-gojtxxz-ZagDhVlzLnrSEKAzvrASr4Yy4R9XiNh-wlhmf_P4teYOWA5J2MDcA8YiOiHz8Eu-GNzjyV0jfK6cmV4kORq91osTFd0Sur0rVBj0jkclyZ3oyDJ61qc1NRuT3-5_ic7S6pAjtxQYr6AacRYb4Yvk/s320/PXL_20221119_220508981.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgebdnxjkWtXjOixtGJBjx2m_A4LgN_kLvM2zCrsgA6JgAL8RskCMTUwOIAJ-Itt7Qex5zkB1nINkZI3iCYFqSkskT9ULsHDhVOGU0Wsi4AQFiNK9wvO-NQilKRd-44ftYyhwr5ttN9PGSut879GmHiK0mvSVWRBylqArAkGGitU7GqK86CcN2ZXmnY/s4032/PXL_20221119_221507467.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgebdnxjkWtXjOixtGJBjx2m_A4LgN_kLvM2zCrsgA6JgAL8RskCMTUwOIAJ-Itt7Qex5zkB1nINkZI3iCYFqSkskT9ULsHDhVOGU0Wsi4AQFiNK9wvO-NQilKRd-44ftYyhwr5ttN9PGSut879GmHiK0mvSVWRBylqArAkGGitU7GqK86CcN2ZXmnY/s320/PXL_20221119_221507467.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQWaOlhsK1SfNtXERAL9VJlpQ1pkGMgvk9nOAI3MNidyAjY616vEZoaglvOzSFtHKw9p5lurbkA0AeZin0rGC7gbOncsCa9YpcVulgAq7c6QTSGwyg9b6VBuexYTkrp7dHupkNn488-Mw4REdKd8X15o-bwgZ6QsigbACPiZcUXqS_j468nGzLGT-/s3264/PXL_20221119_221519285.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQWaOlhsK1SfNtXERAL9VJlpQ1pkGMgvk9nOAI3MNidyAjY616vEZoaglvOzSFtHKw9p5lurbkA0AeZin0rGC7gbOncsCa9YpcVulgAq7c6QTSGwyg9b6VBuexYTkrp7dHupkNn488-Mw4REdKd8X15o-bwgZ6QsigbACPiZcUXqS_j468nGzLGT-/s320/PXL_20221119_221519285.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCyHgArg4ZZkfrC88bArsNrPqJby_qoUtKqEsU8v7PfvExg-83W8qI-IP0eyX7-mmH2zIU-pN5LfmtWPJNRhulc61ztMIyWCCa5uef3aAdbrPyGw24Y5vnmMCg0z2B4xnhduZj9lEqLboqTT407EkkfbIfCdgO4sClxiwRSC79BhHSNPS5_rFErr6/s4032/PXL_20221119_221502208.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCyHgArg4ZZkfrC88bArsNrPqJby_qoUtKqEsU8v7PfvExg-83W8qI-IP0eyX7-mmH2zIU-pN5LfmtWPJNRhulc61ztMIyWCCa5uef3aAdbrPyGw24Y5vnmMCg0z2B4xnhduZj9lEqLboqTT407EkkfbIfCdgO4sClxiwRSC79BhHSNPS5_rFErr6/s320/PXL_20221119_221502208.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I see the parking lot and finish line! Way down there!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I ran most of the way back, but still had to walk because some parts were so steep and rocky that I was sure I'd trip and fall off the cliff. And because I was just so dang tired and hurt. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkxTADzFGWlbbacNhc81Wuom76Rx8qQBZO8k_uOBKaRJ78UdPLZCBUizjlgDXm2A7B3aDhqxtMorWcR-VDoX6NCxT5m1I5lXTIlTrQo9VOR5ZZEiorpjOGZLlNzHI2e4iJS70OmIYC5Aj_-DEDF2YyqWv9gBHwFYyalchjW0Bh00WudsoAm_7D4Uo/s4080/PXL_20221119_224413071.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkxTADzFGWlbbacNhc81Wuom76Rx8qQBZO8k_uOBKaRJ78UdPLZCBUizjlgDXm2A7B3aDhqxtMorWcR-VDoX6NCxT5m1I5lXTIlTrQo9VOR5ZZEiorpjOGZLlNzHI2e4iJS70OmIYC5Aj_-DEDF2YyqWv9gBHwFYyalchjW0Bh00WudsoAm_7D4Uo/s320/PXL_20221119_224413071.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">As I got nearer to the end, I saw more and more spectators. The cheers, cute puppies, and smiles boosted my spirits even more...and then I saw JASPER!!!! He waved and smiled and snapped pics and I started crying (and thus wheezing) again! I turned two corners, sprinted best I could up the chute, and crossed the finish line!</span></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpq_HLbteka3TiE2ewtL6IMjt2fMqVxsyUB5WHROeHv6OS7GNzb-OOEKuFi_dsnBup0BybdClBPgpxt_LWDTJ9lKdK2Kp0FY9aNACYwAcwQzVT9ySZdIevTv6SDmPqvj7c_u5-Ja9BkV22q8f6BJGaAb1qpiEcTUBjfrcw_Ynj5bZWGT0RPjkNJqP/s4080/PXL_20221119_224423863.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpq_HLbteka3TiE2ewtL6IMjt2fMqVxsyUB5WHROeHv6OS7GNzb-OOEKuFi_dsnBup0BybdClBPgpxt_LWDTJ9lKdK2Kp0FY9aNACYwAcwQzVT9ySZdIevTv6SDmPqvj7c_u5-Ja9BkV22q8f6BJGaAb1qpiEcTUBjfrcw_Ynj5bZWGT0RPjkNJqP/s320/PXL_20221119_224423863.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jasper saw me coming!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BWAtIXVlIU_M5SrRszTEWgfHyltS8bQr0eVUgqb8xyQzJrNCgYMKgYYilEWN0sCN4Ulx8ccGf3T-zkBBBGJsfHzWTWvFF1-MjUUlooyjaSkytTjMJijKZH1WEYIU6WSPvH_6NPDkN_4OoOolMdYnZXuReWsliN8NT7anG_1Go3IbwzITvdpFa592/s4080/PXL_20221119_224540759.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2BWAtIXVlIU_M5SrRszTEWgfHyltS8bQr0eVUgqb8xyQzJrNCgYMKgYYilEWN0sCN4Ulx8ccGf3T-zkBBBGJsfHzWTWvFF1-MjUUlooyjaSkytTjMJijKZH1WEYIU6WSPvH_6NPDkN_4OoOolMdYnZXuReWsliN8NT7anG_1Go3IbwzITvdpFa592/s320/PXL_20221119_224540759.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOropl9pzUlpWOGRgEMri34fBs_N-nZBrbH-88XOMSOrAtDsyrggRcWRMDuqRA5nLeARlP6yXVfufxHD7esiZb75OFUG1zzQ6YLfG0hWH_8oeEHqm744gOBr5mifkSgF0IUtwA4k_OVnysqquihIhvwWTJQb3hxxhp8CHiNTJqMJFhNNiq6uEWXL9R/s4080/PXL_20221119_224627334.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOropl9pzUlpWOGRgEMri34fBs_N-nZBrbH-88XOMSOrAtDsyrggRcWRMDuqRA5nLeARlP6yXVfufxHD7esiZb75OFUG1zzQ6YLfG0hWH_8oeEHqm744gOBr5mifkSgF0IUtwA4k_OVnysqquihIhvwWTJQb3hxxhp8CHiNTJqMJFhNNiq6uEWXL9R/s320/PXL_20221119_224627334.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunb51_a6ibNL6uDgcqkMhetHY8JGsx2Jj_nezYQB_nUD1brXui9Q5ZCrvjQFxgeYmQIbciIMHWJQmcOBr_hMMF9bNqXy6VUMC32j6AqbL_hMpBGrCVDu2PNooTS7vJxYtMCux054Gw9s34u_N0shsUr_eB6GUXHtpVMHp5Vwn2citq4fCDaWRMbPS/s4080/PXL_20221119_225117052.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunb51_a6ibNL6uDgcqkMhetHY8JGsx2Jj_nezYQB_nUD1brXui9Q5ZCrvjQFxgeYmQIbciIMHWJQmcOBr_hMMF9bNqXy6VUMC32j6AqbL_hMpBGrCVDu2PNooTS7vJxYtMCux054Gw9s34u_N0shsUr_eB6GUXHtpVMHp5Vwn2citq4fCDaWRMbPS/s320/PXL_20221119_225117052.jpg" width="241" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQndwdOiYKDJvITcx66SwrZJXbdfosbfm5PabXhQBcDPBPqQ9Gk0YCdvnOEGyuB9ObttluW34uiil5V9OgDhlRYHyFFvIw6AKU6DHboMklEDWRlExzisMWdQCch3HtPGgTMBm-oqmf7q1uW87fdMhQH5J4CbUJe8q3Y2ZUL21CO8GAWn178cmHd3sz/s4080/PXL_20221119_225125216.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQndwdOiYKDJvITcx66SwrZJXbdfosbfm5PabXhQBcDPBPqQ9Gk0YCdvnOEGyuB9ObttluW34uiil5V9OgDhlRYHyFFvIw6AKU6DHboMklEDWRlExzisMWdQCch3HtPGgTMBm-oqmf7q1uW87fdMhQH5J4CbUJe8q3Y2ZUL21CO8GAWn178cmHd3sz/s320/PXL_20221119_225125216.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Utterly relieved, exhausted, sore, and proud, I got my awesome medal and hugs and kisses from sweet birthday boy husband. My strong finish stride became a waddle as we perused the finish line amenities. I heartily accepted enchiladas and wolfed them down. </span></div><p>And then--I saw Seana! She finished 20 minutes before me and made her partner (who ran the 30k) wait so she could hug me. She gave me a bubble salute, which is her race tradition--running with bubbles and blowing them at aid stations and the finish. I'm so grateful for my race buddy. :) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGwZGOCytpAp-PNpDJdo_4muPQ2NXeuyH-DA5h66YeIcClp0nlkIJlxwUPBpR-BAmBZ84qLXcq3zlHwlN0EoAm0ZHVwRnoC704qy0HL-uVk8FivxW6ixWnNoR1BGCkapUZLuNtKxCOCxzHzmuf5MbRO6B1kT0lpWe1kTn2vf4qDZOuTD01etbsz3a/s4032/PXL_20221119_225550461.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGwZGOCytpAp-PNpDJdo_4muPQ2NXeuyH-DA5h66YeIcClp0nlkIJlxwUPBpR-BAmBZ84qLXcq3zlHwlN0EoAm0ZHVwRnoC704qy0HL-uVk8FivxW6ixWnNoR1BGCkapUZLuNtKxCOCxzHzmuf5MbRO6B1kT0lpWe1kTn2vf4qDZOuTD01etbsz3a/s320/PXL_20221119_225550461.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><p>Jasper took me back to our cozy cabin, where we ate pizza and drank beer (I'd abstained for a few weeks prior and OH MY GOSH DID IT TASTE GOOD. Thanks, Bosque!). </p><p>Now, on to the rest of our Utah National Park vacation! Can I wear my medal forever?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDYIrIit_XiqIChvxNHgZawdXYORicWlVPkpOE6vC7ilCJxRckOP9Xx0U4h-8K6RtE5fI_GC5DFj5Yo_KvRaDpjelI7l8J3MeiDRHMoaAPegj5L8hkjjueHsf66JymS62lVNjeM9pqWwLw8AFg26dzkxWtFX7E6RrnTzSOu7lfBXw1BIjBKhdQv8c/s2730/PXL_20221120_005212678~2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2730" data-original-width="2055" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDYIrIit_XiqIChvxNHgZawdXYORicWlVPkpOE6vC7ilCJxRckOP9Xx0U4h-8K6RtE5fI_GC5DFj5Yo_KvRaDpjelI7l8J3MeiDRHMoaAPegj5L8hkjjueHsf66JymS62lVNjeM9pqWwLw8AFg26dzkxWtFX7E6RrnTzSOu7lfBXw1BIjBKhdQv8c/s320/PXL_20221120_005212678~2.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-63900667150880768362022-11-23T21:29:00.003-05:002022-11-23T21:49:54.721-05:00Ironman Canada: if you're gonna DNF, might as well be at an Ironman?I discovered this draft post from 2017. I'm posting it as-is. It jogs my memory, even if it won't make complete sense to anyone else!
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specifically good:<br />
1. yukon guys and couple in front of me. Wife: "your honesty is admirable"<br />
2. registration woman ringing the bell, giving me First Timer Band<br />
3. Tech line: Husband and wife in front of me.
4. After distributing my fuel into my bike bento box and bike gear bag, i used the portopotties and sat on a bench, quietly and nervously finishing my bagel. A volunteer sat next to me for a while and chatted reassuringly. I don't remember what she said, but she was comforting.<br />
5. Had to hang onto a couple kayaks to fix goggles and stretch calf cramps near the end of the second loop. Both kayakers were super friendly.<br />
6. The four strippers who got my wetsuit off<br />
7. the woman who dressed me in the T1 tent.<br />
8. As always, the volunteers at aid stations. I stopped once to potty, then at a couple for water and another just because I had to stretch my back and relieve pressure on my toe. At the first to get more water, the gentleman said I could use some potato chips "as long as you don't tell anyone I gave them to you." It was a bag of Ketchup-flavored Lays, which is a Canadian thing. I would never buy them, but MY HEAVENS. They were exactly what I needed. Food that wasn't Gu, Chews, or Picky bars. So delicious. At the final aid station in Pemberton, before the climb, I just needed to stretch and rest my toe. The lady said I was fine, I had lots of time, and I would make it. I think I almost cried.<br />
9. seeing WALL OF BLUE at Blueberry Hill!!!!!!!!! ********<br />
10. When the official stood in front of me and waved me to a stop, I was partially in denial, but my heart sank. A couple in their 60s immediately came to talk to me while the official took my ankle bracelet, and asked if I wanted to ride in the bus full of other pulled athletes or come with them in their SUV. I said, "Umm...I don't...know..." and they said, "well then come with us!" I joined a guy a little older than myself, who looked as dazed and exhausted and disappointed as I felt. We agreed we were a little relieved and happy that if we had to DNF, it wasn't because we QUIT. We would've kept going until we fell over, even if we were by then, quite hating life on the course. The couple chatted about skiing and living in Whistler, offered us water, and apologized for only having an apple for food. Except "Oh wait! We do have some Clif Bloks??" "NO!!!" we both laughed emphatically. We were dropped at the med tent because by then my knee was swelling and he wasn't moving well either.<br />
11. DNFing definitely kills the magic of the race. I could hear "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!" from the med tent, over and over. Then, without my phone and unsure of where to find my family, I decided to head over to find my bike (which had been put in a van and driven to T2) and gear bags. I was sad to realize that I wouldn't get my run special needs bag back--I knew this, but fully intended to get my $60 headlamp and compression socks and long-sleeved shirt and Kettle Chips when I got to mile 15 of the run. Nope. Never gonna get those back. The extremely long line of finished or DNFed athletes and family members was disheartening. I took off my bike shoes and walked in my socks. Thankfully, after maybe ten minutes in line, Jenny and Matt found me!! Dad and Mom found my bike! The sibs walked off to buy me an iced latte, while Dad and Mom hung out with me in line. We got to the front and were frustrated to find out that while they sorted our run and morning clothes bags, and the half Ironman bags were fully sorted, they hadn't gotten to the pile of over 1000 Ironman bike gear bags. They estimated over another half an hour. We noticed that only one volunteer was over there, and argued to be let in anyway. One exhausted and industrious athlete suggested that instead of us just rifling through for our own, we start sorting properly. So that is how a ton of exhausted triathletes ended up volunteering at the end of their own race. After I tapped out, getting lightheaded, Dad and Matt used my gear claim ticket to head in with other supporters and then the sorting proceeded quickly. Matt found my bag! We left, but both guys admitted that a small OCD part of them wanted to keep sorting until it was done...<br />
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12. Pregnant sister Amy made amazing tacos, refried beans, and Spanish rice. After dinner, I showered and then soaked in the hot tub with my family. We ate ice cream, and noted that I would still be running for another three hours if I had been allowed to continue (and my possibly torn calf held up). My intrepid sherpas promised that they would have been committed to the bitter end, but we were all able to see the very shiny silver lining.<br />
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What's next? I'm visiting a sports medicine doctor and starting physical therapy for my calf in the hopes that I can complete at least the race for which I'm already registered: <a href="http://www.canyondechellyultra.com/">Canyon de Chelly 55k</a>. Possibly more...stay tuned.</3>
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My calf did not let me race more in 2017, but stay tuned for a triumphant story, next!physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-49987393827512460502017-05-20T16:00:00.000-04:002017-05-20T16:06:49.509-04:00Ironman 70.3 St. George<h2 style="background-color: white; font-family: Titillium-Regular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 400; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">My third half Ironman was a </span>success<span style="font-weight: 400;">! Despite the choppy water and panicked swim start, 20-30mph head- and sidewinds on the bike, and 90F temperature on the run (3/3 with super hot 70.3s), I had a blast (mostly) and finished strong. </span></h2>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I accidentally stopped my Garmin as I entered T1 instead of hitting the lap button, so its overall time is a bit off.</td></tr>
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St. George was slower than <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2015/08/toughman-nm-12-mi-swim-56-mi-bike-131.html">Toughman NM</a> and <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2016/06/ironman-703-boulder.html">Ironman 70.3 Boulder</a>, but I loved it. Except for the swim...but I digress.</div>
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My main 2017 goal is my first full Ironman: <a href="http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/americas/ironman/canada.aspx">Ironman Canada</a> on July 30th in Whistler, BC. Counting back, St. George was appropriately timed to be a warm-up race within driving distance and my two main tri ladies, Liz and Lani, were interested. ROAD TRIP!!</div>
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<b>Thursday, May 4, 2017</b></div>
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We loaded up Lani's SUV with three bikes, three sets of half Ironman gear plus pre-race workout gear plus regular clothes and toiletries (not many of either, honestly), and lots of hydration and carbs for Thursday Carb Day, and headed out on the backroads of New Mexico. Thanks to riding with Geologist Liz, we had a delightful running commentary on the amazing landscape of the Southwest.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bikes are just as exciting as mountains. No? Whatever.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinking my juice. Hydrating and carbing it up.</td></tr>
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We arrived in St. George in time for Athlete Check-In, which we left as soon as possible, due to the outrageous 90+F heat. The EconoLodge offered sparse accommodations, but its AC kept the humans sane and the bike tires inflated.</div>
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<b>Friday, May 5, 2017</b></div>
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Our pre-race workouts were spectacular. The morning was cool and the reservoir calm. I had a brilliant, panic-free swim in my first long-sleeve wetsuit...until something slimy (likely wide-mouth bass) brushed against my foot and grabbed my toe. Yeesh. I biked on the course for a quick fifteen minutes and then ran along the dam for a short twenty. My own mini-triathlon felt rather creaky--my knees both hurt. Oh well! Lani's foot with its torn ligament swelled after a wee run, so she made the tough and intelligent decision to not race on Saturday. Instead, she was a totally awesome cheerleader/sherpa!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Q and I just chillin'.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyjbB-xiiJ8/WRu2W4eXEzI/AAAAAAAAnHo/RDP84_cMsD8w3ZvmMORBK5w3J9a1ZEEKwCKgB/s1600/20170505_092742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyjbB-xiiJ8/WRu2W4eXEzI/AAAAAAAAnHo/RDP84_cMsD8w3ZvmMORBK5w3J9a1ZEEKwCKgB/s320/20170505_092742.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiYR1bN1UzjCiXdzcTV2xqCtBeaqwmW69CWY6jfEMwIthBWRPPB9UyFGGhmTs6MccKgbHo8FPy2-g2h74-kzK7e9FngFhezVhML1bUQZ_r93sbOoKYeEvClDvKn4c2t9Upmf93jBg7_w/s1600/20170505_092750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiYR1bN1UzjCiXdzcTV2xqCtBeaqwmW69CWY6jfEMwIthBWRPPB9UyFGGhmTs6MccKgbHo8FPy2-g2h74-kzK7e9FngFhezVhML1bUQZ_r93sbOoKYeEvClDvKn4c2t9Upmf93jBg7_w/s200/20170505_092750.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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We continued the carb loading with bagels at the cutest little cafe, Muddy Bees, which had a beehive inside the store (with a very cool plexiglass system to contain the bees and funnel them outside). One of the things we loved about St. George was how welcoming everyone was to the athletes and how involved businesses were with the race:</div>
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Training and breakfasting complete, the next task was to drive the extremely beautiful and challenging bike course. See the actual race report, below, for those pictures. Following lunch, we packed up EVERYTHING we needed for the bike-to-run transition (T2) and our bikes (for swim-to-bike transition, T1) and dropped them off at Bike and Run Check-In. This was my first race with separate T1 and T2 locations, which was fortuitous, as Canada will have separate transitions. I made several lists (you should not be surprised, dear reader) and kept them for July.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Q hangs out at our 1946 spot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Never had to leave a run bag. Left a run bag.</td></tr>
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Now, at Run Check-in, Lani and I dressed up in our T-Rex costumes (despite the heat), confused many people, and almost killed Liz, who was laughing harder than we've ever seen. T-Rexes fulfilled life-long dreams of completely half Ironsaur.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica T-Rex (L) and Lani T-Rex (R) try to high-five.</td></tr>
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Liz was Wonder Woman of Preparedness and packed dinner from home. Lani and I definitely did not, so we had an adequate meal of pasta at the bar at Olive Garden, where we sat with six other pasta-eating and water-drinking triathletes. Finally, we stopped by the store for morning bagels, peanut butter, and bananas, and eye masks for our very bright room, and tried to sleep at 9pm.</div>
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<b>Saturday, May 6, 2017 RACE DAY!</b></h2>
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I warned Lani, who spent over a week in Norway with me last year and thus already knew, that I'd likely be less-than-chipper prior to coffee. I was weirdly nervous, however, despite this being my third rodeo. Nerves often manifest in me as stoicism, so even after a small cup of passable coffee, I was fairly grumpy.</div>
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(For Ironman Canada, my family has reserved a giant house on AirBnB near the Olympic Village and we're making a big vacation out of it. Family, be warned. Wait, you've known me for 32 years; you're prepared.)</div>
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Roaming around T1 at 5:30am in the crowds of athletes under bright floodlights is a bit surreal. While organizing my 1946 spot, I chatted with 1944 and 1942 (the WWII bike rack). 1942 was trying a half IM for the second time, after failing to complete the swim before cutoff time in her first try and not being allowed to proceed onto the bike. 1944 was attempting her FIRST TRIATHLON EVER. For the record, Friends, I recommend you at least do one little local sprint tri before jumping to a half Ironman, but why not??</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Dude behind us Facebook-Live-d for five minutes. Why?<br />
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Soon, it was time to squeeze into our wetsuits and join the mob that was slowly funneling into the chute, organized by waves. Due to crazy forecasted afternoon winds (20-30mph with strong gusts), the waves were compressed so that instead of the planned four minutes between, we had two. This ended up contributing to my swim issues, and as my part of the pack was destined to hit whatever weather the afternoon threw at us, I wish they'd have kept it as is.</div>
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SWIM 1.2 miles, one loop in Sand Hollow Reservoir: 1:02:06</h3>
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LESSON LEARNED: carefully read the athlete guide and understand the swim start well in advance. I found out that morning that we'd have two minutes to get from shore to yellow buoys about 50<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> </b></span>meters out in the water. This would be super easy for me on a normal, calm swim day, in a pool or if I'm having a good open water day. When I have a good open water swim, I've had time to warm up in the water, breathe and blow bubbles (I am three years old), position myself in the back, and start with a calm heart rate. However, we couldn't get in the water until it was time to swim hard to the buoys for the start, so my heart rate started much higher than I wanted. The water was the choppiest I've swum in, so after a couple face-fulls of water when I tried to breathe, the panic really set in, before I even reached the start buoys. I had to hang onto a yellow kayak, while the kayaker sweetly reassured me that everything was fine, for another two waves to start. At least four minutes after my age group started, I was able to get through the buoys and onto the course.</div>
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LESSON LEARNED: I would have lost less time if I paused waist-deep in the water, blew my bubbles, simply got at it like a lumbering manatee without regards to The Start Line.</div>
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I struggled the entire leg out to the first turn. Each new wave brought faster swimmers clambering past me and around me and over me, the wind kept the chop a splashin', and there was one speedboat that obnoxiously zoomed around creating giant wakes. I paused countless times to tread water, before telling myself that I had to at least breast stroke and keep moving forward, and started wishing I could get pulled from the water.</div>
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Praise the Lord, upon rounding the first turn, I got angry. I was angry that my race wasn't going as planned and angry that I was being so dramatic. It takes a while to talk myself down from panic in the water, but eventually, the rage kicks in and I find a vengeful groove. My long-sleeve wetsuit made my stroke feel like flailing, so I decided to Flail with Determination, and the phrase "though she be awkward, she be determined" was stuck in my head for the last 75% of the course.</div>
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Rage did, thankfully, turn into a calm joy as the chop turned more to rolling waves as I continued around the little island. The undulating lake was soothing and I almost felt like I was flying as the waves gently raised and lowered my ungracefully flailing self. I finally recognized how beautiful the morning was, with fluffy clouds on a bright blue sky, with glimpses of the red rocks on the island and shore. I was so tired though. So spent. I had no idea how long I'd been out there, and I sincerely hoped I hadn't made the swim cutoff, because I was exhausted already and couldn't fathom finishing the final 69.1 miles. I was legitimately disappointed to realize that, despite this being my slowest half IM swim by eight minutes, I had made the cutoff with plenty of time to spare.</div>
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I love these pictures of me leaving the swim. So accurate.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why. Why did I do that. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lani took this! HELLO LANI!! Is that man prancing behind me?</td></tr>
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T1: 5:46</h3>
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I changed without incident, stuffed my wetsuit and paraphernalia into the designated bag to be shuttled to the finish line for me, decided to not put on more sunscreen, and tried to shake off my disappointment that I got to finish the race. (...that I've looked forward to for months, that has the most gorgeous course ever, that was important for Canada, I know. The swim stunk for me, readers. Have I conveyed that yet?)</div>
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BIKE 56 miles, point-to-point from Hurricane to St. George: 3:53:38</h3>
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This was my first race with Q, my pretty pink Quintana Roo! The first five miles of the ride were challenging, partially due to my funky attitude. However, after that initial peak around five miles, I realized--again--how beautiful this race is and my heart warmed for good toward Ironman 70.3 St. George. The last 6.5 hours of my eight hours out there were full of joy and love for triathlons and I was so thankful I made that swim cutoff.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the first real hill after the swim--smile through the huffing and puffing.</td></tr>
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We tooled around town for a few miles and then started climbing in earnest. I passed soooo many dudes. They were huffing and puffing and I got in a nice low gear and smoothly spun past them. Thanks to Mariann for the training at 7000'+ with ridiculous elevation gains in Northern New Mexico.</div>
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The descents were of course better than the climbs, and this was the first time I utilized my aero bars for a significant portion of a long ride. Sadly, the photographers didn't catch any of it, but I promise, it happened.</div>
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One of the best descents was a short little 8% hill. I actually yelled "WEEEE!" and I don't think anyone heard me.</div>
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Despite enjoying the ride, I was relieved to reach the Snow Canyon entrance: the start of the most beautiful and difficult climb of the course. I stopped at the aid station before heading in to use the facilities. The sweetest volunteer noticed me peering at my chafed underarm before I got back on my bike and ran over with vaseline and baby wipes. She offered sunscreen, and I really should have asked her to get my back...there were two spots that I clearly can't reach myself sufficiently, and in the future with this kit, I will ask for help! </div>
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Snow Canyon was unequivocally my favorite part of the ride. I climbed so smoothly and passed so many dudes. It was so beautiful. </div>
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A 77-year-old man (everyone has their race age Sharpied on their calves) said, "You're a strong climber!" </div>
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"I'm from 7000' in NM!" </div>
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"Do you believe in the old adage 'thighs matter?'" </div>
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"ha ha ha...yes?" </div>
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On the steepest part of the climb, near the very end of the four-mile-long canyon, lots of people were walking. My climbing was not smooth, but there was no need for walking. Here, look at Snow Canyon's beautifulness (pictures I took the day before):</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS IS THE END OF THE CLIMB!! TURN RIGHT FOR HOME!</td></tr>
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At the top of Snow Canyon, we were all triumphant! It was only ten more miles to T2, mostly downhill!! MOST disappointingly, when I rounded the corner to the descent, I was slammed by 20-30mph headwinds. These were soon accompanied by strong sidewinds. So, we all spent a much longer time than anticipated finishing the "easy" final ten miles, extremely tense, trying to not get blown over. I had to slow way down in fear and stayed out of aero to try to stay more in control. Bah. Lani noted that everyone rolling into T2 finished red-faced, wind-blown, exhausted, relieved.</div>
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T2: 5:04</h3>
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T2 is a blur. I swapped helmet for hat and bike shoes for running shoes and DID put on more sunscreen. Then I trudged out. I saw Lani! She cheered and took a picture and I tried to smile and not stop for a walk break until I turned the corner away from her.</div>
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RUN 13.1 miles, out-and-back on hot hot roads: 2:56:17</h3>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was trudging. Legs were lead. Upper body tense from gripping the bars in the wind. </td></tr>
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The first three miles were uphill. I had to walk a bit to bring HR down and drink some water. Thankfully, I had great company. It was so hot and the wind had been so draining, that everyone I could see ahead of me and behind me walked the uphills and ran the flats and downhills. I kept my walks very brisk and was able to keep up a solid pace when I ran. I passed people both walking uphill and running downhill. At every aid station, I gulped some water, stuffed ice down my shirt and under my hat, and accepted any offer to be doused in water. Basically, I followed all tricks I learned in my last 90F half IM run that kept me sane and moving forward. </div>
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My favorite aid station (AS) was a giant one that spanned all four lanes of the mildly annoying out-and-back-and-out-and-back portion of the run. Do we need to see the same scenery four times? No. It's pretty, but no. The AS, however, had watermelon and coke! It was so refreshing. They also had beautiful super soakers. Bless them. AND, they played the Beach Boys!!! </div>
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I made friends. Friends for a single uphill stretch when we were both walking and friends who yo-yoed with me for a while when our walk breaks didn't sync up. When we got closer and closer to the 10-ish mile AS, I knew the last three miles were downhill and I could easily finish in under three hours, which had become my only goal for the run. </div>
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I ZOOMED DOWNHILL! My Garmin says I kept up a 9:30min/mile pace for some stretches. I had to take a couple more walking breaks when the downhill flattened out, but then I ran and ran and passed more people. Finally, I turned the final corner and RAN. I choked up! I saw LANI!! And LIZ!! RUN RUN RUN RUN! Done done done. :)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1mSosu3Lz4/WR-n55ac0AI/AAAAAAAAnRA/M2-Vud9oLqEsbA98gf_OyhU28k5lQxT1QCKgB/s1600/Screenshot%2B2017-05-15%2B20.58.32.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x1mSosu3Lz4/WR-n55ac0AI/AAAAAAAAnRA/M2-Vud9oLqEsbA98gf_OyhU28k5lQxT1QCKgB/s320/Screenshot%2B2017-05-15%2B20.58.32.png" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the closest I have to T-Rex arm race picture this time. Except the actual T-Rex costumes. HA.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SsgwmaxIrUV22Fgfx20woDf2REbBXyvITCTdfZul46DiWDgFj4LsPVvZPGoi8Ej4nRxnVud1Wrlwd31ToP4xxv17TDUwTv9FyzkFl67vRVC89ZfGNLrWlAHo3bbs4AiTEll-NtsB15k/s1600/Screenshot+2017-05-15+20.58.43.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SsgwmaxIrUV22Fgfx20woDf2REbBXyvITCTdfZul46DiWDgFj4LsPVvZPGoi8Ej4nRxnVud1Wrlwd31ToP4xxv17TDUwTv9FyzkFl67vRVC89ZfGNLrWlAHo3bbs4AiTEll-NtsB15k/s320/Screenshot+2017-05-15+20.58.43.png" width="212" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLP1ONOdC2dr6wWd6wu_frwP5wZRDX25ivSXclslFCdpgCbpSm-VjACbgz-fGi00dvNrErL1uwPtOYy-saf6RHve1nGi5OOeECEuCe1KPD1_7ho-zkpfxoEGAPQ-AQ3iZbSrTy0tnCEo/s1600/Screenshot+2017-05-15+20.58.08.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLP1ONOdC2dr6wWd6wu_frwP5wZRDX25ivSXclslFCdpgCbpSm-VjACbgz-fGi00dvNrErL1uwPtOYy-saf6RHve1nGi5OOeECEuCe1KPD1_7ho-zkpfxoEGAPQ-AQ3iZbSrTy0tnCEo/s320/Screenshot+2017-05-15+20.58.08.png" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TRYING TO NOT GIVE MYSELF AN ASTHMA ATTACK BY CRYING.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YAAAY! Do the victory power walk.</td></tr>
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POST-RACE</h3>
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Still trying to rein in the tears and choked sobs, I got my medal and hat. I saw my buddy from T1, 1944, who finished her very first triathlon a couple minutes before I did. We gave each other big high fives, and got victory pictures:</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG_jSJeDKFw/WR-uHObEsfI/AAAAAAAAnRQ/-KuvFhnBP1ox5C3vU54dhTcva5408hH0ACKgB/s1600/Screenshot%2B2017-05-15%2B20.57.08.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG_jSJeDKFw/WR-uHObEsfI/AAAAAAAAnRQ/-KuvFhnBP1ox5C3vU54dhTcva5408hH0ACKgB/s640/Screenshot%2B2017-05-15%2B20.57.08.png" width="428" /></a></div>
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Liz and Lani found me, and I drank much of Liz's huckleberry lemonade (she finished hours before I did). We sat in the grass a while and enjoyed not moving. Eventually, we had to walk to T2, pack up my bike and such, and walk back to the hotel. The very slow walk was good for my muscles, and a bit painful for Lani's injured foot, which had already trod 19,000 steps being our cheerleader! On her birthday!! On the way, I got my own huckleberry lemonade and lemon cookies. The best.</div>
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After a good shower, Liz, Lani, and I met up for Lani's birthday dinner at a divey-looking Mexican place that got 4/5 stars on Yelp. It was amazing. We ordered fried ice cream, because obviously we needed desert. Our server suggested we share one. We said no way dude. He said fine, ladies.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N5sjr9QGg10/WR-xyvoZvTI/AAAAAAAAnRc/w9n0F0cD9CMZXNusSWdaSaTnBFY6midpgCKgB/s1600/20170506_181655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N5sjr9QGg10/WR-xyvoZvTI/AAAAAAAAnRc/w9n0F0cD9CMZXNusSWdaSaTnBFY6midpgCKgB/s320/20170506_181655.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1dYySDvH-nFey0r290d-PV0BOUg7Kyv3es2CLD02o6ManrHGQLjQqCIZFh7kGUidzOr16Sxr_3jOZHcuLgH_Md1UcCxSPNcH3YTl0d2aB4o_F3LaA7bQHL8aabXuANE0PXz0v-ubjZM/s1600/20170506_181642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1dYySDvH-nFey0r290d-PV0BOUg7Kyv3es2CLD02o6ManrHGQLjQqCIZFh7kGUidzOr16Sxr_3jOZHcuLgH_Md1UcCxSPNcH3YTl0d2aB4o_F3LaA7bQHL8aabXuANE0PXz0v-ubjZM/s320/20170506_181642.jpg" width="180" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR29niasM2xZlp7J_Z1KGd5-6VvHi3qz480qLfJ66VkuACpePpX6vxcSoVXdENu2TS_ALWF1GjLItO_2tmGrS1QYS1eoQ1Sq7bTLhT_-mGgc07c5cNESQzmGc348lVJItByN2gDS2Hkvk/s1600/20170506_183449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR29niasM2xZlp7J_Z1KGd5-6VvHi3qz480qLfJ66VkuACpePpX6vxcSoVXdENu2TS_ALWF1GjLItO_2tmGrS1QYS1eoQ1Sq7bTLhT_-mGgc07c5cNESQzmGc348lVJItByN2gDS2Hkvk/s320/20170506_183449.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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He definitely had the last laugh.</div>
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Lani and I said goodbye to Liz, and drove a couple hours toward home to Page, AZ, for the night. Despite not finishing my fried ice cream, I bought a Frosty on the way. We slept for seven hours and then drove the rest of the way home, where I spent forty-five minutes cuddling the kitties. Then, I flew off on a work trip. Ah, the glamorous life of a physicist!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eac3u-1rKWA/WRaFJ4BqaII/AAAAAAAAmXE/UQc58AkCydkN-f73TaGr6z4F5h7FrNbKwCLcB/s1600/finishercertificate_stGeorge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eac3u-1rKWA/WRaFJ4BqaII/AAAAAAAAmXE/UQc58AkCydkN-f73TaGr6z4F5h7FrNbKwCLcB/s640/finishercertificate_stGeorge.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h2 style="background-color: white; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 400; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Total registered: 2462</span></h2>
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<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;">Total finished officially: 1917</span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;">difference includes DNS and DNF (within 8.5 hours)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;">Next up:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #646464; font-size: 14px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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May 21, <a href="http://santafecentury.com/">Santa Fe Century</a></div>
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July 30, <a href="http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/americas/ironman/canada.aspx">Ironman Canada</a> (THE FULL ONE)</div>
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October 14,<a href="http://www.canyondechellyultra.com/"> Canyon de Chelly 55k ultramarathon </a><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXAg1XNl3ok/WSChy2ByYRI/AAAAAAAAnSo/_pUVMYuYmD8Or7tCaPfviwc1rrHUElMIgCKgB/s1600/20170507_090608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXAg1XNl3ok/WSChy2ByYRI/AAAAAAAAnSo/_pUVMYuYmD8Or7tCaPfviwc1rrHUElMIgCKgB/s320/20170507_090608.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-47191450706446845312016-06-27T23:41:00.002-04:002016-06-27T23:41:50.942-04:00Ironman 70.3 Boulder<div style="text-align: justify;">
On June 11, 2016, I completed my second half Ironman on a hot, exposed, fast course in Boulder, CO! I was much better prepared, thanks to my coach (Liz at <a href="http://multisportmastery.com/">Multisport Mastery</a>), and was rewarded with a 29-minute personal record and my goal of being under 7.5 hours! While overall I did enjoy <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2015/08/toughman-nm-12-mi-swim-56-mi-bike-131.html">Toughman NM</a>, I was legitimately HAPPY for more of Boulder and recovered SO much faster. </div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hz0yPsnkseI/V2b0gqXbwZI/AAAAAAAAbEM/SP7zDO0g8xAhLo6mcE_qkt_hyq7HZpt-ACKgB/s1600/13415627_10206672913798520_6533656451023059275_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hz0yPsnkseI/V2b0gqXbwZI/AAAAAAAAbEM/SP7zDO0g8xAhLo6mcE_qkt_hyq7HZpt-ACKgB/s320/13415627_10206672913798520_6533656451023059275_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>The quick details. I improved my time for each leg!</b></div>
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1.2-mile swim: <strong style="background-color: white; font-family: Titillium-Regular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">51:43</strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">T1: 7:44</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">56-mile bike: <b>3:27:49</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">T2: 7:14</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">13.1-mile run: <b>2:50:15</b></span></div>
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<b>Total: 7:24:45</b></div>
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Pre-Race</div>
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The journey started Thursday, when Laura and I loaded up her minivan and drove seven hours north to Boulder. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XmZIIftlquY/V2HZl_xFvWI/AAAAAAAAa6g/FzLnm3qBEp0ijI3H9oZ6MwkCs_tWcmlLACKgB/s1600/20160609_112138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XmZIIftlquY/V2HZl_xFvWI/AAAAAAAAa6g/FzLnm3qBEp0ijI3H9oZ6MwkCs_tWcmlLACKgB/s320/20160609_112138.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-02K0xg4Ulr0/V2HZl1jnOII/AAAAAAAAa6c/XF6ilEpV8L0aYkigloL9JY-EqIUEr7JbgCKgB/s1600/2016-06-09%2B14.42.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-02K0xg4Ulr0/V2HZl1jnOII/AAAAAAAAa6c/XF6ilEpV8L0aYkigloL9JY-EqIUEr7JbgCKgB/s320/2016-06-09%2B14.42.22.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My coach gave me specific instructions for Thursday and Friday, on what to eat (basically lots of salty white carbs and very little fiber), how much sleep to get (over eight hours on Thursday), and how to prepare by working out on location, driving the bike course, and so on. In other words, as soon as we got to Boulder, we ate pasta and went to sleep. </div>
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Friday was busy. We started with a large carb-filled breakfast (classic pancakes at IHOP) and headed to the Boulder Reservoir to explore Ironman Village and pick up my race packet. I am impressed by Ironman's efficiency--the slick organization reminded me of <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2010/01/disney-world-marathon-part-i.html">Disney parks</a>!</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KCk9b2JkwiY/V2b0gtoqVDI/AAAAAAAAbEU/jEtqU5b9tk45UP5k5YwAnvrdPT1mNLMOgCKgB/s1600/13418601_595052950656679_8389395396645194837_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KCk9b2JkwiY/V2b0gtoqVDI/AAAAAAAAbEU/jEtqU5b9tk45UP5k5YwAnvrdPT1mNLMOgCKgB/s320/13418601_595052950656679_8389395396645194837_o.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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The reservoir opened at 10am for swimming...in the tiny little rectangle below. I swam around with several other people for ten minutes to get a feel for the water until I got tired of the small laps. It was refreshing, as the temperatures were already in the 80s! Following my swim, I rode my bike for 15 minutes and ran for 15 minutes, completing my baby triathlon pre-race workout.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8-s2RVZwimQ/V2HZl0eceXI/AAAAAAAAa6c/Rce-7eFskicAQPSytPLkzn8nj2K9yrqMQCKgB/s1600/20160610_093747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8-s2RVZwimQ/V2HZl0eceXI/AAAAAAAAa6c/Rce-7eFskicAQPSytPLkzn8nj2K9yrqMQCKgB/s320/20160610_093747.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Next on my schedule was bike check-in. We walked my bike over to transition, where I nervously left it and memorized the lay of the land for Saturday. I was close to Swim Finish and Run Out, and pretty darn far from Bike In and Bike Out. My transition times were so slow as a result (I swear I wasn't taking a nap). Ironman-brand races apparently are GIGANTIC. There were <b>2429 athletes</b> in this race, and imagine how huge transition was. Also, after turning lobster red at Toughman, I was careful to slather on the sunscreen in both T1 and T2 (and still managed to get some nice red stripes). </div>
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Clutching a map, Laura and I then drove most of the 56-mile bike course. We noted that it was mostly flat and beautiful, with a couple of long hills that looked intimidating on the elevation profile, but were not bad in person. The drive was a major confidence booster. Laura noted several gorgeous farm houses for sale and instructed me to stop for fliers on my way back there the next day. I am devastated that I forgot.<br />
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After I napped in the hotel while Laura ran errands, we headed back to Athlete Briefing at the reservoir. The take-away message was that it would 99% certainly be wetsuit legal and that rules are now that you have to stay six bike-lengths behind the person in front of you, unless you pass, in which case you have to pass in 25 seconds. That stressed this rule-follower out. Good news: I did not a yellow card for drafting. Or littering or peeing on the side of the road. SUCCESS.<br />
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Finished, finally, with pre-race prep, Laura and I met my crazy ultra-marathoner friend Marianna from Ft. Collins for pasta, took her back to the hotel, and after verifying for the millionth time that I had everything packed and several alarms set, we turned out the lights and tried to go to sleep at 9pm.</div>
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Race morning</div>
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One thing was clear at the Reservoir on Friday: there was not a ton of parking close to the action. Hence, Baumgaertel genes kicked in and we got up at 4am in order to leave the hotel (after downing terrible hotel coffee) at 4:30 when we were ten minutes away and transition opened at 5:30 and my swim wave was at 8:09am. Let me tell you: we got an AMAZING parking spot.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-12YrGUyW0jA/V2HZlzcXOzI/AAAAAAAAa6Y/z-5zzg7yuDMcollWq5ZMc-IgsA24JKLEQCKgB/s1600/20160611_045724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-12YrGUyW0jA/V2HZlzcXOzI/AAAAAAAAa6Y/z-5zzg7yuDMcollWq5ZMc-IgsA24JKLEQCKgB/s320/20160611_045724.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marianna and Laura were such troopers!!</td></tr>
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While we waited in the dark for transition to open, I ate my banana and bagel with peanut butter and took deep breaths. Laura and Marianna were excellent company. I got body marked and was at my #1977 spot soon after 5:30. My bike was still there!! What a relief. I organized my gear and was ready to go by 6am. So, I headed back out to sit with my friends for half an hour. I returned to put on my wetsuit, grab my goggles and cap, and get out of there right before transition closed at 7am. Just as I was wondering if this time, I really did overkill the early arrival, a busload of athletes frantically ran in to set up. Traffic had gotten so bad that hotel shuttles took an hour to drive a few miles and people were being let off at the entrance to the Res, a mile or so away. Never mind: excruciatingly early is the way to go.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jzzhF--tIow/V2b0gpS-v1I/AAAAAAAAbEU/oEEK9Fr86OEcQ4GiKegLlqol8Y8881Y4ACKgB/s1600/13415476_10206671083392761_4787408463471145920_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jzzhF--tIow/V2b0gpS-v1I/AAAAAAAAbEU/oEEK9Fr86OEcQ4GiKegLlqol8Y8881Y4ACKgB/s320/13415476_10206671083392761_4787408463471145920_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm the one in the middle with a ponytail.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Traditional Transition Photo.</td></tr>
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How did I spend my hour between transition closing and my wave starting? I took a hit of my inhaler and walked barefoot over gravel, goose poop, and sand about half a mile to the swim start, where I found Frank, a Los Alamos friend who was there to volunteer. Then, a woman said, "HEY, are you Jessica from Los Alamos?" and she turned out to be Emily, who stalked everyone from Los Alamos doing Boulder and--as it was just herself, me, and her friend Ann--memorized my number to look for me. Passing the nerve-wracking time talking to them was perfect. Twenty minutes before go time, I got in the tiny, crowded warm-up area for a few minutes of breathing and stroking. About ten minutes before go time, Ann and I joined our purple-headed age group of 30-34-year-old females and slowly shuffled to the edge of the water, until we were told to wade in up to our armpits.<br />
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1.2-mile Swim: I AM A LEAF ON THE WIND</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAclWAR2JMSDzT89WpU5XdJtJnEO5NT06A4QTARGl48TSsdg0-5fIxmMWW8Unxc8DN1ZcyqLhQ58eUUoWL0CH3F7KtpN4Z1xvMM0mBzae6m4XMJsdxGU8HU9Px4NdPJsuGHJRjahPRXRw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.54.27+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAclWAR2JMSDzT89WpU5XdJtJnEO5NT06A4QTARGl48TSsdg0-5fIxmMWW8Unxc8DN1ZcyqLhQ58eUUoWL0CH3F7KtpN4Z1xvMM0mBzae6m4XMJsdxGU8HU9Px4NdPJsuGHJRjahPRXRw/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.54.27+PM.png" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at those slightly wavy, yet mostly straight, GPS swim lines!</td></tr>
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My race plan developed with Coach Liz said to swim it steady, never pushing it, in order to keep my heart rate down in anticipation of the long, hot day ahead. She's well aware that swimming at best worries me and at worst scares me. I, personally, forgot this about myself, and excitedly ended up in the front of the pack of women before the start. WRONG MOVE.<br />
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The horn blared and suddenly the water was churning and arms and legs were EVERYWHERE. My heart rate shot up and I was clawing at wetsuited bodies and taking kicks to the chin and being swam over. I paused, treaded water, watched the faster horde splash away, and then began again. Must keep it smooth, must keep it steady, must not panic or push. "I am a leaf on the wind" popped into my head, and I alternated telling myself that and praying for calm and occasionally swearing for the next 51 minutes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsjDBLbV3_K3eeGfz4nMoEB7OQlkS_cSDBWAuYsy1y_8OAQDaHjqeeMC8V2x-TL_t-Ra631qkHzd7T_IvheRTet4pQUhb2G146aJNmMQuAQZv5L7uZyH065zfwUu3QK3pjngypzJICqU/s1600/13391675_10206671083592766_6629600075339309775_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsjDBLbV3_K3eeGfz4nMoEB7OQlkS_cSDBWAuYsy1y_8OAQDaHjqeeMC8V2x-TL_t-Ra631qkHzd7T_IvheRTet4pQUhb2G146aJNmMQuAQZv5L7uZyH065zfwUu3QK3pjngypzJICqU/s320/13391675_10206671083592766_6629600075339309775_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Marianna...how beautiful is Boulder?!</td></tr>
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After the initial insanity, the swim was not exactly enjoyable, but mostly comfortable. I swam the 1.2-mile single-loop course fairly straight--particularly after the second turn, on my way back to shore. The swearing usually happened when I ran into The Backstroker. She was, unfortunately for me, slightly faster than I was, yet could not swim in a straight line (sighting buoys is hard from that position). Consequently, she continued to swim suddenly into my path the entire race. Near the end, I became the person I hate, and I essentially swam over her a couple of times in frustration and determination and a healthy dose of indifference. I'm sure she's fine.<br />
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Halfway from the second turn to shore, someone jostled my goggle, water washed over my eye, and almost took my contact out with it. I treaded water and fixed the goggle, and blinked my contact mostly into place without touching my eye in the middle of a dirty lake. I was so relieved to make it to shore, super dizzy upon standing and worried about losing my contact and possibly deciding between biking with messed up vision or dropping out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgADCgUIi8at2-mqd0jTnYz429HMHuBpQRKHZ31VraQ5YOwP6MGTMcSFgrcn3skX5GM9FHEQlVZaJscLHpbq8svQHG2xg3vQCHdT_EdhLXqTncXX5nHMKjIX9_42NgXswoHHS2_ph9-HrA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.36.51+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgADCgUIi8at2-mqd0jTnYz429HMHuBpQRKHZ31VraQ5YOwP6MGTMcSFgrcn3skX5GM9FHEQlVZaJscLHpbq8svQHG2xg3vQCHdT_EdhLXqTncXX5nHMKjIX9_42NgXswoHHS2_ph9-HrA/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.36.51+PM.png" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch me swagger while trying to keep my contact in my eye and not trip from disorientation.</td></tr>
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My contact was wonky as I ran to my bike, and I spent a minute getting it situated. Praise the Lord, it stayed in, and spare contacts and glasses are on my list for next transition bag. I spent another couple of minutes getting the wetsuit off (dude, where were the strippers), reapplying sunscreen, getting bike gear on, and clomping so awkwardly in bike shoes all the way to Bike Out and the mount line. </div>
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56-mile Bike: THIS IS AWESOME. DON'T PUSH TOO HARD. STILL HAVE TO RUN.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XDRD-3cy6ig/V2HdEHZgbuI/AAAAAAAAa68/OocCx2NdzD0tcO12gIRxStwY_w092DfDQCKgB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.55.06%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XDRD-3cy6ig/V2HdEHZgbuI/AAAAAAAAa68/OocCx2NdzD0tcO12gIRxStwY_w092DfDQCKgB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.55.06%2BPM.png" width="253" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pac-Man?</td></tr>
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I LOVED this ride! Relieved to be out of the water and in possession of two contacts, I had to be extremely conservative and conscious of my pace and heart rate. The plan for the bike: FOLLOW HYDRATION AND FUEL PLAN. Set myself up for a good run! Keep it easy for the first 20-30 minutes, and then let it go (but remember the run). Being so nervous about drafting (MUST OBEY AUTHORITY) and passing certainly helped rein me in for the first, flat or gentle uphill part of the race. When I got more comfortable, I really started to have fun, especially on downhills. None were too technical, so I flew.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YdbGrWucO5y9Z_oN1bQjooyAfjj1QY7zGvxxJ3yR_a5l28_KYxbB4O7iH4fUdAc-qfjWFTrm4bM-QnPnbfxv7WFo3YyA3IphBAMPG1sMtxIA4wFtLPTc1QbrXJkbKpxGhO7Spnp2vMg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.37.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4YdbGrWucO5y9Z_oN1bQjooyAfjj1QY7zGvxxJ3yR_a5l28_KYxbB4O7iH4fUdAc-qfjWFTrm4bM-QnPnbfxv7WFo3YyA3IphBAMPG1sMtxIA4wFtLPTc1QbrXJkbKpxGhO7Spnp2vMg/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.37.09+PM.png" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch me chew my Honey Stinger Chews.</td></tr>
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The farmland around Boulder is gorgeous. Many adorable cows, calves, and horses lazily watched us, and for the most part, car traffic on the open course was minimal. The mountains against the bright blue sky brilliantly contrasted the soft green grass of the fields. The breeze from riding was enough to make the unrelenting sun and soaring temperatures bearable.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lcmiU6BlBFg/V2HZtv-HZAI/AAAAAAAAa6M/0idpp_B38QIIVqP_2ZRgZL4Z2tLYh54mACKgB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.37.36%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lcmiU6BlBFg/V2HZtv-HZAI/AAAAAAAAa6M/0idpp_B38QIIVqP_2ZRgZL4Z2tLYh54mACKgB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.37.36%2BPM.png" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh hey there. How you doin'?</td></tr>
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I was only stressed about using the bathroom. To indicate that my hydration was on track, I was supposed to go by the 2-hour mark. I had to, but we would get in trouble (does anyone know if we ACTUALLY would?) for going on the side of the road, and more hardcore triathlete techniques weren't working for me (I mean I tried to go on the bike while coasting), so I had to wait until the aid station around the 3-hour mark. Which was on a hill. One of the few hills on the course had the one aid station I needed to actually get off my bike and visit. Sigh. Mounting and clipping in was special, between the hill, the stream of cyclists, and the suddenly constant car traffic. Oh and Frank, on the back of a race-official motorcycle. "Hi, Frank! I'm not drafting, see?" With MUCH GRIT, I was successful and back on course.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T52udiqMEcY/V2HZtkKu0dI/AAAAAAAAa6M/pWte4nRz5cEQesWbMNhAYTbWL4wNokvcwCKgB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.37.58%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T52udiqMEcY/V2HZtkKu0dI/AAAAAAAAa6M/pWte4nRz5cEQesWbMNhAYTbWL4wNokvcwCKgB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.37.58%2BPM.png" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So happy.</td></tr>
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Chugging up the longest hill of the course, which was nothing compared to rides around Los Alamos or in Durango a couple weeks prior, people were complaining. No no. No whining. We GET to do this!! Just keep swimming. I mean pedaling. You'll make it.<br />
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With 16 miles to go, I realized that I would smash my bike time from Toughman. Not entirely fair, considering the difference in profiles...but 56 miles is far, and I was thrilled. I also realized that as long as I didn't completely walk the run, I'd have a half Ironman PR quite handily. I passed so many people in the back half, and yet I only rose in my age group from my place after the swim, 82, to 80 and actually lost spots overall from 1708 to 1717. </div>
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Laura and Marianna greeted me at Bike In with signs and cheers!! With MUCH GRIT, I successfully dismounted in front of many people without a fall. After an awfully clumsy jog back through transition to #1977, I again took my time and reapplied sunscreen. I point this out, because I ended up getting quite burnt, especially that little strip of pale white back you see in the pictures below, AND I WANT TO PROVE THAT I TRIED.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xh6F4ljLQPU/V2b0gtwBoQI/AAAAAAAAbEU/pMC7Bhk0IMgYnxIAK_1ypCIly9YctA72QCKgB/s1600/13411665_10206671986335334_7132517589716196678_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xh6F4ljLQPU/V2b0gtwBoQI/AAAAAAAAbEU/pMC7Bhk0IMgYnxIAK_1ypCIly9YctA72QCKgB/s320/13411665_10206671986335334_7132517589716196678_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just pull your shirt down.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4dhsoteCbfo/V2b0gmblnvI/AAAAAAAAbEU/AJwOYfFz-woplGDIOLWAiSR2cQHNAcjVACKgB/s1600/13412193_10206671986775345_8727486548751379692_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4dhsoteCbfo/V2b0gmblnvI/AAAAAAAAbEU/AJwOYfFz-woplGDIOLWAiSR2cQHNAcjVACKgB/s320/13412193_10206671986775345_8727486548751379692_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HEY LAURA!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, why didn't you just pull your shirt down?</td></tr>
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13.1-mile Run: ALL THE ICE DOWN MY SHIRT!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkgliQ_rHDILQccK2oxYcr8OrzAwz0KNUhDA1VJztXbw2ihu9OFXGS8MKPTyvwBIBoZDNqYDIjtnWvk-0eL1JLoALGblsMTfcedilvRvBvq7vUfEV2NDbAh4yZKWZLhMuorEd9CYHHX0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.55.48+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkgliQ_rHDILQccK2oxYcr8OrzAwz0KNUhDA1VJztXbw2ihu9OFXGS8MKPTyvwBIBoZDNqYDIjtnWvk-0eL1JLoALGblsMTfcedilvRvBvq7vUfEV2NDbAh4yZKWZLhMuorEd9CYHHX0/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.55.48+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two loops of this hot, dusty, sunny puppy.</td></tr>
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Back in my comfort zone, in running shoes, I trotted out of transition for the leg that is least likely to kill you or ruin your race with mechanical issues. I stopped at every aid station, because of the 93F scorcher, including the first.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello, Marianna!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0pig3PF2vE/V2b0gkREjAI/AAAAAAAAbEU/YIXJdnrnDQ0jji2yjaQR89neTj5xkPFegCKgB/s1600/13433170_10206671987655367_6302032572488367805_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0pig3PF2vE/V2b0gkREjAI/AAAAAAAAbEU/YIXJdnrnDQ0jji2yjaQR89neTj5xkPFegCKgB/s320/13433170_10206671987655367_6302032572488367805_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yes, yes I do need water!</td></tr>
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Once we left Ironman Village, after a blissful stop under a sprinkler, we ran on grass and sand for a quarter of a mile or so, and then the majority of the course was a hard dirt road. My basic strategy (from coach) was to find a pace I could hold for ten miles and let it go in the last three, while walking through every aid station (there were five in the loop, which we ran twice, so approximately one every 1.2 miles) and employing any method I could to stay cool. Besides drinking two dixie cups of water at every station and taking my salt pills about every 30 minutes, my saving grace (thanks, Lani!) was ice down my bra. I got into a rhythm of seeing station, dropping to a walk, chugging water, pouring a cup of ice down my front, stuffing big chunks of ice volunteers hacked off bagged ice into the back of my bra, maybe taking some sips of Coke or my Gu or salt, saying yes to anyone who wanted to spray me with water, and picking up the pace. I'd take ice from my bra later and stuff it under my hat or in my buff at my neck, or sometimes I'd hold it in my palms for a while, or I'd suck on it. There is little shame in endurance sports.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wBRVpXlVfhk/V2HZttMjQqI/AAAAAAAAa6M/P4jbibbDmH4Mv8mZdA-2Nq1d5L9gmNQwQCKgB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.39.09%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wBRVpXlVfhk/V2HZttMjQqI/AAAAAAAAa6M/P4jbibbDmH4Mv8mZdA-2Nq1d5L9gmNQwQCKgB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.39.09%2BPM.png" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So hot. T-Rex arming it up.</td></tr>
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The run was pretty, though not as lovely as the bike. We got a tour of the backs of some neighborhoods, and a nice man sitting in the shade sprayed us with a hose. We saw the entire reservoir and some other little lakes. There were a couple of short hills, and especially once I realized everyone else was, I walked them. I walked them faster than I could run them at that point, anyway. I enjoyed passing many men, but felt bad, too--they started before I did, and few of them looked like they were enjoying themselves by that point. Happily, when I passed one guy who was walking, and said, "WE GOT THIS, DUDE," he started running, and we played leap frog the entire second loop. He was doing run-walk intervals, and I was pretty much steadily running except at the aid stations. He encouraged me a few times, and I saw him finish with a smile!<br />
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I don't usually like two-loop courses, but it was essential for breaking it up and helping my mental game. I counted down aid stations in the first loop ("Four to go, four to go. Just keeping swimming. Three to go, three to go. Just keeping swimming."), then saw my friends again!<br />
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On to counting down aid stations to the finish line! Soon into the second loop, we got blessed cloud cover. We prayed for rain (I know it was "we" because of short, exhausted conversations as I passed or was passed), but no lightning. No rain came (though I did savor memories of PFR and childhood bff Laura). The shade was welcome. I walked more the second loop, but my splits didn't change, so I pushed the energy as high as I could.<br />
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The course was, in order, grass, pavement, sand, grass, dirt road (most of it), pavement (SO FAST), dirt road, pavement, grass. The second long stretch of dirt road included the best (and second-to-last!) aid station. They might have been drunk. They were...enthusiastic. Dressed up in boas (men and women), they were the most energetic, blasted the loudest music, and had Thor and Black Widow cardboard cutouts. When I passed it the second time, I knew it was really time to push it. Not that I had much left. Mentally, I was focused on that finish line.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--rkV5eyw-4k/V2HZtmYIOMI/AAAAAAAAa6M/pHvC_zP210MHj1AhxD7GJI11Zkjapzl8QCKgB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.39.44%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--rkV5eyw-4k/V2HZtmYIOMI/AAAAAAAAa6M/pHvC_zP210MHj1AhxD7GJI11Zkjapzl8QCKgB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-06-15%2Bat%2B4.39.44%2BPM.png" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a whole string of pictures me with this face, so I definitely didn't just blink.</td></tr>
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When I passed the final aid station, there were no more smiles. There was only focus. There was only finish line.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSMa0HO1xIrmpeCZTymqHMZKu1kyWVoZ-S4WXnXfUr-OEUxoPHGWbEOtTHsdzbk_NUv3jSPF_Cv53ps_VB_k7i_oLd_rshtpVFADTQIt_RNoha8kqiacg95RJXaqE3hM6_7EECEBVkME/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.38.56+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSMa0HO1xIrmpeCZTymqHMZKu1kyWVoZ-S4WXnXfUr-OEUxoPHGWbEOtTHsdzbk_NUv3jSPF_Cv53ps_VB_k7i_oLd_rshtpVFADTQIt_RNoha8kqiacg95RJXaqE3hM6_7EECEBVkME/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-06-15+at+4.38.56+PM.png" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I might be dying.</td></tr>
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Then, okay, who am I kidding. I saw the finish chute and I could not contain my elated grin, even with the beginning of my traditional endurance event chokes and tears. Happened in my first half marathon, happened at mile 23 of every marathon, and happened at both half IMs. Can't even.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE THAT I AM DONE WORKING OUT FOR THE DAY???</td></tr>
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7:24:45 later, I finished with my 29-minute PR and some blubbers. Yes, volunteers, I am ok. It's normal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LIDro8f5g40/V2b0gh9PmPI/AAAAAAAAbEU/v-FwiJjuSbkVXkVvBsXTzF6edzw_LNnHgCKgB/s1600/13422265_10206672914838546_7303268037758962950_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LIDro8f5g40/V2b0gh9PmPI/AAAAAAAAbEU/v-FwiJjuSbkVXkVvBsXTzF6edzw_LNnHgCKgB/s320/13422265_10206672914838546_7303268037758962950_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks for this, Marianna. Hahaha.</td></tr>
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At the end: I rose from 82 to 80 to 77 in my age group, and 1708 to 1717 to 1551 overall (out of 2429). I got my medal and finisher's hat, found Marianna and Laura, and we took some pictures.<br />
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One of the most amazing benefits I discovered from working with Coach Liz was post-race. At Toughman, I couldn't eat solid food until 9pm that day. Here, probably due to carefully calculated and meticulously rehearsed nutrition on-course, I immediately ate a slice of pizza. After Toughman, I hobbled for days. I was sore the next day after Boulder, but I could have gone on a little run or ride (I didn't, psh, but I could have). Thanks, Coach!!!<br />
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Post-Race Recovery: ice cream and beer</div>
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My dear sherpas took me back to the hotel, where I showered, pulled on my compression socks, and elevated my feet. They drove off to buy me aloe (yeah, so red and painful) and a Blizzard. Ice cream is THE best recovery food, I'm convinced. We eventually made our way to Avery Brewing, where Laura and I had eaten lunch the day before, when I was abstaining from beer. I had a delicious porter, and my stomach survived. I also had fantastic fajitas or something, I don't even remember, but stomach was so happy. Again, incredible improvement over Toughman. NUTRITION and HYDRATION, folks: you have to get this right for long events!<br />
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I can't say enough about what an amazing experience Ironman 70.3 Boulder was. (Clearly. This is long. CONGRATS FOR FINISHING!) I'd do it again, though I have other plans for next year. Thanks especially to Coach Liz, my tri buddies/mentors Liz and Lani, and Laura and Marianna for being with me all weekend.<br />
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NEXT UP: <a href="http://106westtri.com/">106 Degrees West</a> on September 10th. How's this for marketing?<br />
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-37177844629435680562016-06-15T10:28:00.002-04:002016-06-15T10:28:22.328-04:00James<div>
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Do you have a person who left such a rich mark on your life that it helped define its path? James was a integral player in a vivid couple of summers that led to my whole world today. He touched so many lives this way, and last Friday, way too early, we lost him. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James and me at the party I hosted for the 11th anniversary of his 29th birthday. November, 2008</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">In 2003, I was a shy and nervous 18-year-old traveling alone for the first time, all the way to New Jersey, for the week-long course that preceded my first job in science as a plasma physics intern in San Diego. James was the administrator of PPPL's summer programs. We all assumed from his emails that he was older and gruff, and were surprised to find him young (early 30s), warm, and energetic. He welcomed us, teased us, and put us at ease before shuffling us off to our labs around the country.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">The next year, while I had only been rated "average," he advocated for me to come to PPPL for the entire summer. I had an office next to his and thrived. Our cohort of students grew inseparable as we learned about fusion energy, ran amok all over Princeton, and became close friends with our leader. James became an uncle, a confidant, and advisor. While tears made him extremely uncomfortable, he allowed me to cry in his office once and encouraged me to press on through the situation. He never stopped cheering for me. </span></div>
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Over that summer and the following one, when I and several of my intern buddies returned, Uncle Jimmy the former tennis pro and art aficionado patiently (sometimes exasperatedly) gave us tennis lessons, drove us up to MIT for a tour of their fusion facilities and Boston, and took us to art museums and out to Falling Water (Frank Lloyd Wright's house) in Pennsyltucky (on one epic ten-hour roundtrip day). He became extremely irritated when we moved a book in his office out of place or sharpie-d out a day on his wall calendar in the WRONG DIRECTION (he redid an entire new one), but he loved us so much. We loved him back, by covering his office in Post-It notes and filling it with inflated garbage bags. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1000 sticky notes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Teresa and me during Jimmy Tennis Lessons, summer 2005</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Our tennis pro and John, summer 2005</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, James, Justin. Falling Water, summer 2005</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Falling Water, summer 2005</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exasperated at us for some reason in the best student office ever, B346.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yankees game, summer 2004. That summer, used this picture in every end-of-summer student presentation. You're welcome, Jimmy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew, the head of Science Ed, and James, wearer of Armani suits, at APS DPP 2004</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">James was an unofficial voice of recommendation for me when I applied to graduate school at Princeton, and moving from Washington to New Jersey was easier knowing I already had family there. He took me shopping for my new apartment and had dinner with my parents. Over the years, he met my entire family, loved them, and always, always asked about each one. He encouraged my mom to attend Plasma Camp for teachers at PPPL, which was highly enriching for her. He was impressed with mom's and brother's tennis skills. One fine day when my brother visited me, he and James played an intense game of ping-pong and then some intense games on the Wii. I forget who won. It was so much fun.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Autism Walk, Jersey Shore, Oct 2007</td></tr>
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As great as James was with his summer students, he was just as good with the graduate students. He harnessed us for Science Ed outreach activities year-round. We judged Science Bowls, gave presentations in schools, and performed sweet demonstrations at Princeton and APS expos. He was one of the chosen ones who got swine flu that one year from one of the messy children (we all assume).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, James, and Sarah at APS DPP 2007.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James, Doreen, me, and Luc at APS DPP Expo 2008. </td></tr>
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A brilliant stage actor on the side, he had an unquenchable flair for the dramatic and silly. His impressions delighted (or horrified) us, and he was always up for crazy ideas, like when I wanted to play chess on a roller coaster. It took us at least five rides to time it correctly (it's hard to hide all that equipment and bust it out at the right time while, oh, riding a roller coaster).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most nonchalant game of chess ever. 2007</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reactions!! 2007</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alissa and me with James after he starred in Leader of the Pack. January 2009</td></tr>
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Through his many plays (he was a fantastic Boo Radley) and trips to museums in Philly, NYC, and Seattle (he stopped by for our November birthdays with Justin my senior year of college), he encouraged our cultural development outside of physics. The afternoon he, Kelsey, and I spent in Manhattan wandering around, visiting the Frick Collection and my favorite lunch place in all of NYC (Via Quadronno, Upper East Side https://www.viaquadronno.com), is one of my favorite memories of the City.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James, Karl, and Luc. Rodin Museum, Philadelphia, APS DPP 2006</td></tr>
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The last time I saw him was June, 2012, when my parents, my cat, and I were driving off the East Coast out to the Southwest for my new postdoc life. James had left PPPL as his health started to deteriorate and was living in Maryland. We visited him, he made fun of my cat (who once almost clawed him to death--he CLAIMED), and I hugged him goodbye, having no idea that was the last time. We kept in touch, but oh how I wish we did a better job. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blurry, but I love it. June 8, 2012</td></tr>
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His touch is still present in my New Mexico home--from the bright yellow flower on my wall, to my first pair of opera glasses and Hungarian vase on my shelf. He himself was an utterly beautiful gift from God. We lost him before the 20th anniversary of his 29th birthday. I hope to see him again someday. </div>
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I love you, Uncle Jimmy.<br />
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<br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;" />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-44164782505095871232015-12-13T00:22:00.000-05:002015-12-13T00:27:38.355-05:00Oppenheimer Holm, or The Day Meitner Was a Confused Nomad<div style="text-align: justify;">
One Saturday morning, Meitner was contentedly munching on some hay, when The Human opened the roof. He preferred to keep eating second breakfast, so he darted around his home to avoid her hands. She caught him, however, and unceremoniously plopped him in a small maroon box with a bedding floor. He remembered this bucket...but could have sworn it was three times larger last time he was in it.</div>
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Suddenly, Meiti Pig's vessel rocked and rolled and the world got very cold and fairly wet as he was carried outside for the first time in months. What was this white stuff falling through the roof? He was not thrilled. Soon, he was warm again, and baffled by the vibrating floor and loud noises. BUT OH! CARROT! JOY AND HALLELUJAH!</div>
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Meiti could see The Human. She kept worriedly looking at the white stuff falling from the sky and squeaking strangely. He couldn't decide if this sound was pleasant. After quite sometime, most of it without Food (since he finished the carrot quickly), the weird motion of his pod stopped. The Human opened a portal and it became so cold and slightly wet again for a bit, until the capsule stopped moving. He smelled new Beings (he caught a glimpse of one with a long, skinny tail), some of which were his own kind! The Human opened the hatch, grabbed him (the indignity), and held him face-to-face to the first Pig he'd seen in almost a year. Such excitement!</div>
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The Other Pig was scared, though, too nervous to be friends. The Human set Meiti in a new habitat, and he enjoyed chatting with Other Pig through the perimeter. So refreshing to carry on an actual conversation!</div>
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Mysteriously and inconsequentially, The Human disappeared for a few hours. Between the sturdy house and strawberries from Other Human, Meiti Pig decided he could live here forever.</div>
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For better or worse, The Human returned, grabbed Meitner from his new favorite abode, placed him back in the pod, and transported him through the cold to the noisy, vibrating bubble. Muttering something about the deliciousness of "breakfast burritos," The Human seemed more comfortable, now that the white stuff had ceased to fall. She continued to squeal strangely and slightly unpleasantly, however. </div>
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This trip ended in the most intriguing territory Meiti had ever experienced. There were three fluffy things jumping all about and yapping most incessantly. A faint smell of soiled bedding preceded the cacophony of thirty Pigs as a New Human led them into a sanctuary of sorts. For the third time, The Human lifted Meiti Pig, little legs flailing (will it never end), out of the maroon vessel and released him on a soft fleece floor that reminded him of home (does he live there anymore? Who can ever know?). In the corner, was a Young Pig. </div>
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Oh and lettuce. Thank HEAVENS. It had literally been ages. Young Pig exuberantly welcomed Meiti Pig. He recently lost his brother, and had been so excruciatingly lonely. None of the other thirty Pigs were right, but he sensed something he liked in Meitner. Meitner sensed something, too: that he really loves hay.</div>
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Young Pig popcorned all about the cage, running and jumping and twitching and squealing. The Pigs exchanged derriere sniffs. Young Pig tried to mount Meiti Pig, who simply shook the much smaller baby off and kept eating. The Humans exclaimed happily about friendship and compatibility, and then rudely stole the Food. For...more times than Meiti Pig can count, he was stuffed back into the bucket. His spirits were instantly raised when hay followed him through the hatch. Out again into the cold, where now freezing water was descending from above, The Human shoved his craft into a new location in the loud wagon: where he could not watch her, under her strange metal and rubber beast.</div>
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Soon, he realized why. Young Pig was joining them in this bubble of gray fabric. In Meiti Pig's pod's former spot next to The Human.</div>
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The roof of Young Pig's home wouldn't fit, it seems. Meitner caught a few words of a conversation between the humans ("Whatever, stuff it in the trunk") before the portal closed. The Human returned to her normal seat, shivering and wet. The quaking, rumbling, and squealing from The Human restarted. Is this life now? It got quite dark in the bubble. Meiti Pig napped and napped, exhausted from his new nomadic and social existence. </div>
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Eternities later, Meiti awoke to familiar smells of soggy dirt and pines as The Human lugged his plastic cocoon within Young Pig's habitat, next to his purple igloo, through the night. She set them down (with a slightly jarring thud), scratched at a new portal, and SWEET RELIEF. Meiti Pig knew he was home. Actual home, that doesn't move or freeze or let precipitation descend from on high. (Though The Human squawks strangely here, too.) For the last time on this journey, The Human elevated Meitner from his tiny vessel and returned him to his beloved Pig Mansion. There was his cardboard house! Here was his tiger-striped carpet! FINALLY. HIS HAY. </div>
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He stopped eating to watch The Human chase away The Beings with Sharp Pointy Bits (who occasionally are friendly and visit with Meiti Pig...but in whom he senses a disturbing deep, dark desire...). Next, she shoved Young Pig's home next to his, and gave them both apple slices. DESSERT. YES. </div>
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Young Pig hid in his igloo. Confused and scared and tired. Belly-full and benevolent, Meiti Pig encouraged him to explore. Young Pig hesitantly left his grape dome and skipped over to chat. He said his new name was <b>Oppi Pig (rhymes with "hoppy")</b>. Meiti decided he liked having a neighbor that spoke his language and smelled like him. The Human said they'll hopefully even be roommates soon. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Welcome, little Oppenheimer Holm! <!--3--></b></span></div>
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-58210297677835236872015-08-26T13:22:00.000-04:002015-08-26T13:22:00.802-04:00Toughman NM: 1.2 mi swim, 56 mi bike, 13.1 mi run<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">I AM HALF AN IRONMAN!!</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After my first Olympic triathlon this June (<a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2015/08/city-of-lakes-olympic-triathlon.html" target="_blank">City of Lakes</a>), I continued training for <a href="http://www.toughmannm.com/" target="_blank">Toughman NM</a>. Toughman is a half Ironman distance race with a 1.2-mile swim, 56-mile bike ride, and a 13.1-mile run (a half marathon): 70.3 miles of moving under your own body's power. Down at Cochiti Lake in between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, i</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">t was as local as a race with an open water swim could get for us</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I got to sleep in my own bed and swim in the lake I trained in (five whole times! Twice without panic attacks!), so it had all the makings of a great race.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tapered at sea level, in Washington for my sister's wedding, so I was a little worried about losing my altitude acclimatization. My parents' town is just as hilly (or more) as Los Alamos, so my workouts were perfect in that respect. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(My other sister arranged for me to borrow a bike from her REI coworker, which my parents drove home for me, and bride sister let me borrow her car to get to a pool. I couldn't ask for a more supportive family!)</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Coming home, there was an</span><a href="http://krqe.com/2015/08/23/air-quality-alert-issued-for-albuquerque/" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank"> air alert </a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">issued due to smoke from the WA/OR/CA fires, suggesting caution when performing outdoor activity, so that was a little worrisome, too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Naturally, I was overly dramatic the night before and composed a triathlete's blessing:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May the Lord bless you and keep you,</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May your swim be panic free in still waters,</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May your bike be flat-tire free over smooth roads,</span></b></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and may your run be crawl-free through a cool rain.</span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May the wind be ever at your back and a smile ever on your lips, </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for tomorrow, WE RIDE!!</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I packed early on Saturday and sat around, nervous, excited, and pretty much in denial about the whole thing. Surprisingly, I was able to sleep pretty well from 8:30pm until 3:15am, when I jumped out of bed, fed all the confused fluffies, and zipped off to pick up Katie. Katie volunteered for the race for the ten or so hours we were at Cochiti and then drove my exhausted self home after buying me ice cream. She is a KEEPER.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We arrived before sunrise and I discovered something to add to future triathlon packing lists: a headlamp. There were a couple streetlights, but transition was dark. Friends' headlamps and our cell phones' flashlight apps helped the setup.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J35-n3m37cA/Vdvo86G62pI/AAAAAAAAP-0/SeJN8vrfJ0s/s1600/20150823_054605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J35-n3m37cA/Vdvo86G62pI/AAAAAAAAP-0/SeJN8vrfJ0s/s640/20150823_054605.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Scotty is always ready for adventure.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of my favorite things about Toughman was how many people from the LA tri scene were there: Liz, Lani, Lori, Tony, Heather, Tad, Diane, Mike E, Karen, Frank, Steve, Mark, Mike H, Scott...I think I got them all?? It was especially nice having Liz and Lani only a couple transition spots away--yay friends!!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNq2RNhfWSxcuv61xjXPpavfxq6zEI7wxAzZ75ocQ-fX-GYx9I0yViyMeqot0hINFfmHDQxhFYSjqlBCjEYmIPYJJECBqKxLBUxR-kc63sRUNSgs1Exkmd5iR7lDaFgEZYtX8gKMEv2S0/s1600/2015-08-23+20.14.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNq2RNhfWSxcuv61xjXPpavfxq6zEI7wxAzZ75ocQ-fX-GYx9I0yViyMeqot0hINFfmHDQxhFYSjqlBCjEYmIPYJJECBqKxLBUxR-kc63sRUNSgs1Exkmd5iR7lDaFgEZYtX8gKMEv2S0/s640/2015-08-23+20.14.28.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tony! He sold me my first pair of cycling shoes and pedals for $20 and I used them all season!!</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cd5gTPxoykj8hxWdzUD73SsLssS34TyLti9qDsFpXRhVFBNUVPsliCSFF_M_IhF6bWwJo0Dvv52RSb2gUu4tGBqOkitkqqxC5rqCX8-84MFt_UrP024rY_tuTE1ivkTH1xNoFPLpWko/s1600/2015-08-23+20.15.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cd5gTPxoykj8hxWdzUD73SsLssS34TyLti9qDsFpXRhVFBNUVPsliCSFF_M_IhF6bWwJo0Dvv52RSb2gUu4tGBqOkitkqqxC5rqCX8-84MFt_UrP024rY_tuTE1ivkTH1xNoFPLpWko/s640/2015-08-23+20.15.27.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lani got 1st in her (our) age group!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dtH5BmFys8A/Vdvo81SCWZI/AAAAAAAAP-w/fjmaADE3jkE/s1600/20150823_061349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dtH5BmFys8A/Vdvo81SCWZI/AAAAAAAAP-w/fjmaADE3jkE/s640/20150823_061349.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather rocked the bike portion for a relay team!!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kT4jM28o65M/Vdvo8wTHCMI/AAAAAAAAP-w/jhYqJLKC5oo/s1600/20150823_061408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kT4jM28o65M/Vdvo8wTHCMI/AAAAAAAAP-w/jhYqJLKC5oo/s640/20150823_061408.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Liz got 2nd overall female!! She is so fast!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After getting all set up and putting on sunscreen and stuffing myself into my wetsuit, I had butterflies in my tummy. I was so excited, but worried about panicking on the swim and getting flat tires on the bike and...well, I wasn't worried about the run. Being around my friends helped. Heather, Tad, and Katie took most of the following pictures and live-updated to Facebook all day, which was a blast to find out when I got to my car HOURS later!!</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--L1g1QInyuU/VdvnNb23MaI/AAAAAAAAP7g/V0uSTip_1Jk/s1600/11258904_10152706289434649_249190510925462646_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--L1g1QInyuU/VdvnNb23MaI/AAAAAAAAP7g/V0uSTip_1Jk/s640/11258904_10152706289434649_249190510925462646_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks for the photobomb, sir.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE SWIM: 1.2+ miles in 54:34</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(My watch said I swam 1.36 miles, actually. [Everyone else's measured long, too.])</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_DZAx-QJnDo/Vdzm1BOrpTI/AAAAAAAAQCE/lfFIPMsgaJI/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-08-25%2Bat%2B4.03.48%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="408" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_DZAx-QJnDo/Vdzm1BOrpTI/AAAAAAAAQCE/lfFIPMsgaJI/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-08-25%2Bat%2B4.03.48%2BPM.png" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Map from my Garmin watch: I swam fairly straight!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The swim started in the water, so after the men swam off at 6:30am, the women and team swimmers made our way out to the dock for our 6:40am start time.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wA4YSfHCi6A/VdvnNUw0kWI/AAAAAAAAP7g/GAZd7AGd7fM/s1600/11890936_721004484750_5742469835580647565_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wA4YSfHCi6A/VdvnNUw0kWI/AAAAAAAAP7g/GAZd7AGd7fM/s640/11890936_721004484750_5742469835580647565_n.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm somewheeeeere, oooout theeeere...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was nervous, but then I saw Diane in the water, and she's such a calming presence. THEN, I noticed Heather and Tad on the dock (they were going to bike and run legs of the relay)!</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lPQN0fMbHP4/VdvnNSu29xI/AAAAAAAAP7g/IltRvCyYL9U/s1600/11954691_10152706370734649_55845111770017948_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lPQN0fMbHP4/VdvnNSu29xI/AAAAAAAAP7g/IltRvCyYL9U/s320/11954691_10152706370734649_55845111770017948_n.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OH HELLO, HEATHER AND TAD.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4zLR6mPx1i6XdMQgVAKS1j4PKZTUKQ2xP_2hj6GXCWp5hxTxXRY-Fp8UEVDbqbEfT9-xU8iQYN0En3uffhYb9f6rMwx-FPilAoNfjdnqmHteI7iVTVI8-9JGYZcUwDeRkIQiIsvp9qg/s1600/11949373_10152706370839649_7680196122287054913_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4zLR6mPx1i6XdMQgVAKS1j4PKZTUKQ2xP_2hj6GXCWp5hxTxXRY-Fp8UEVDbqbEfT9-xU8iQYN0En3uffhYb9f6rMwx-FPilAoNfjdnqmHteI7iVTVI8-9JGYZcUwDeRkIQiIsvp9qg/s320/11949373_10152706370839649_7680196122287054913_n.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FOCUSED.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLMr-ILPJviRWyEtj8-NtC9KWeljCJOqsxJOnxFmQ9HkNqPR2poVuY16vQJej8vZ1YFqdWV7MBeukpRrkZXje0AoeLEvuuwmi5QJ5e-_uZ0NbKGsxIjp_vWdvfEaC9OzWpYnXmigmxh0/s1600/11873502_10152706370879649_205057269076803503_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLMr-ILPJviRWyEtj8-NtC9KWeljCJOqsxJOnxFmQ9HkNqPR2poVuY16vQJej8vZ1YFqdWV7MBeukpRrkZXje0AoeLEvuuwmi5QJ5e-_uZ0NbKGsxIjp_vWdvfEaC9OzWpYnXmigmxh0/s640/11873502_10152706370879649_205057269076803503_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm the second head from the bottom. We're so colorful.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-npkfvNGVTpo/VdvnNbfGK1I/AAAAAAAAP7g/4h5WCiLYkpQ/s1600/11259169_10152706370994649_2125041939299769142_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-npkfvNGVTpo/VdvnNbfGK1I/AAAAAAAAP7g/4h5WCiLYkpQ/s640/11259169_10152706370994649_2125041939299769142_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Breeeathe. (I'm in the center.) That yellow buoy in the background was the third in the rectangular course.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIknbl3ZxBI/VdvnNT_3ewI/AAAAAAAAP7g/5avKhMC6y0Y/s1600/11949274_10152706371039649_7486994489190496652_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIknbl3ZxBI/VdvnNT_3ewI/AAAAAAAAP7g/5avKhMC6y0Y/s640/11949274_10152706371039649_7486994489190496652_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">GO TIME! (I'm the second from the bottom, starting my stroke.)</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HoHKGVJLdu8/VdvnNfW8j6I/AAAAAAAAP7g/dkvW7JK-nAM/s1600/11933440_10152706416129649_4549293743504902226_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HoHKGVJLdu8/VdvnNfW8j6I/AAAAAAAAP7g/dkvW7JK-nAM/s640/11933440_10152706416129649_4549293743504902226_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Swim like little fishies!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2af79yLcmEiJg4nvrvG8Vwaa_IGPFV8oXfiVJCobrCVxcn0e28xQSas25iN-gh-ZRRhMUV_UaOzR1rnEc6f7GVamh8R7CxYLScKxrjlZH6L0HZFnDjD64u7KpQk9g4ioCjKRW9zqu3g/s1600/11866451_10152706416514649_8761459011120184998_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2af79yLcmEiJg4nvrvG8Vwaa_IGPFV8oXfiVJCobrCVxcn0e28xQSas25iN-gh-ZRRhMUV_UaOzR1rnEc6f7GVamh8R7CxYLScKxrjlZH6L0HZFnDjD64u7KpQk9g4ioCjKRW9zqu3g/s640/11866451_10152706416514649_8761459011120184998_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looking back on the boat ramp where I was going to exit in almost an hour.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The swim was the best I've ever had! I had zero panic attacks. My mind stayed quiet and focused on my breathing and stroke. I positioned myself near the back and outside of the pack of females, so I wasn't jostled too much. As it was a two-loop course, I was overtaken by the men, but again, no major punching, kicking, or splashing. And I passed two guys myself!! Woohoo! </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PX1ekDBQFio/Vd3xqSLmdiI/AAAAAAAAQFE/Q7z9OpICYGM/s1600/61539110-Toughman-triathlon-WA-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PX1ekDBQFio/Vd3xqSLmdiI/AAAAAAAAQFE/Q7z9OpICYGM/s640/61539110-Toughman-triathlon-WA-15.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://gillen-photography.smugmug.com/Events-folder/Toughman-NM/Toughman-NM-Photography" target="_blank">Curtis Gillen Photography</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">I started to get super antsy in the last couple hundred meters and was so happy to get out of the water. Trying to walk up the slippery boat ramp, I</span></span> almost pulled a volunteer into the water, I was so dizzy and disoriented. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So disoriented.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OH RIGHT. I should start undressing as I go!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l83bLky8s5Y/VdvnNUXlEvI/AAAAAAAAP7g/y4bYtZOUEYQ/s1600/11954576_818692896531_8173374717589205450_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T1 took 2:44. I still felt dizzy, but I was READY TO RIDE. As I left transition, I saw Katie! She caught me doing my dizzy-in-bike-shoes waddle.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Walking is difficult.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE BIKE: 56 miles in 3:57:33</span></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqACQ2PI7TSUy-ZRZVeUBpXxCof39nBgfAQVBjKzlXCW9Pxmj_Chq0hyGVFKONr9w8W46NgAVTx-9DcbVxvL2M-BtJm4QoRX08EgtaarvZZsPVYLnyigt6qlu0ZyuZbo1-b1D-UYu0Vfs/s1600/11880458_818692951421_5678805793334003251_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqACQ2PI7TSUy-ZRZVeUBpXxCof39nBgfAQVBjKzlXCW9Pxmj_Chq0hyGVFKONr9w8W46NgAVTx-9DcbVxvL2M-BtJm4QoRX08EgtaarvZZsPVYLnyigt6qlu0ZyuZbo1-b1D-UYu0Vfs/s640/11880458_818692951421_5678805793334003251_n.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had a flat, straight shoot out of transition in which to mount and make sure we were in the smallest gear, so we could slowly conquer The Wall.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am currently so thrilled to be biking!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r5TMAGRs8uE/VdvnNdNGWFI/AAAAAAAAP7g/HyYWdafoSDA/s1600/11889476_818692981361_8503930145312834012_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Wall is that first steep climb in the elevation profile below. It was not easy. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh this elevation profile. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first out-and-back of the Y-shaped course was great. I enjoyed it: the scenery varied, cyclists were all around, and while it was mostly uphill out, it was very manageable. The turn-around at mile 13 came quickly. The only concerns: my behind started hurting at mile 10 and my left hand started going numb around then, too. MILE TEN IS REALLY EARLY, GUYS.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GkbEfMBt1qQ/Vd0iizvlhwI/AAAAAAAAQDE/KM0hkoRvYPk/s1600/toughman_bike_map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="502" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GkbEfMBt1qQ/Vd0iizvlhwI/AAAAAAAAQDE/KM0hkoRvYPk/s640/toughman_bike_map.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All of my good feelings died on the second prong of the Y. From the apex of the Y (intersection of NM 22 and NM 16) to I-25, it was uphill WITH. A. HEADWIND. And sometimes a CROSSWIND. For EIGHT miles (with my sore behind and numb hand), I hated cycling and I hated triathlons. Seeing so many friends on the out-and-back was encouraging, though! After almost being blown off the overpass (not really), conditions and mood improved a bit. The wind was a little better, and we got some relief in the form of a few descents. Soon, though, I despaired of ever finding the turn around, and then almost cried when I did see it. Hallelujah!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coming back from the turn around, especially after crossing I-25, was AMAZING. I loved cycling and I loved triathlons (eight hours can contain many conflicting emotions). The downhill with tailwind totally rocked and I flew so fast! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I forgot about the hill heading back up to the lake, but I conquered that slowly and surely. With some serious braking, I also survived biking down the Wall and turning sharply back into transition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My behind was beyond thrilled to dismount.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">T2 took 3:44 and was fine, except that my left hand was completely useless and couldn't grip my shoelaces. (I'm going to get my bike fitted professionally before next season and see what can be done.) I also forgot to reapply sunscreen, so that became fun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE RUN: 13.1 miles in 2:54:32</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was such a relief to get to the run! I swam and biked under the times I predicted, so I was sure to be well within the cutoff time. I walked up the Wall to keep my heart rate under control and get a breather, and focused on pushing myself while still enjoying myself. I had a FANTASTIC time on the run! </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8gtrorUawzs/Vd0hGpgJNQI/AAAAAAAAQCs/jZIHTOH_1fo/s1600/toughman_run_map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="436" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8gtrorUawzs/Vd0hGpgJNQI/AAAAAAAAQCs/jZIHTOH_1fo/s640/toughman_run_map.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh Northern New Mexico. What would you be without hills? We gotta love you.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a little jaunt through a campground, we went off into the town of Cochiti Lake. Katie had been reassigned to an intersection on the run, where she got to stop traffic (the power almost went to her head) and make sure we Turned Left.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OH HELLO, KATIE!!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The neighborhoods were my favorite part of the run. Several people were in their driveways cheering. One adorable old man was handing out water from a cooler. And the best part? Two separate houses were hosing runners off. HOSING US OFF! The ice-cold drenching was fortifying and beyond refreshing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon, after waving to Katie once more, I headed off on the three-mile, mostly uphill road to nowhere. I maintained a cheery mood (I don't know how, but I'll take it), but it was not pleasant. Zero shade, hot sun, and straight stretches of pavement are not ideal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, and this is my one major race-organization complaint: there were NO BATHROOMS. Multiple people discussed this and none of us saw any. I had to go while on the bike, but figured I would wait for the promised potties on the run (I should've stopped at the ones in the transition area). By this time, everyone had been on the course for over five or six hours. We, um, dealt with it in the desert brush, and thank heavens no one encountered some of our native wildlife while doing it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two things I learned to love on the Toughman run: sponges filled with ice-cold water and Coke. The mostly flat Coke gave me a little kick, and the sponges were so refreshing. I took 1-2 at every stop--squeezed one down my shirt and one on top of my head and I was good to go!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, I reached the turn around at mile 8. Three wonderful paramedics promised that I could indeed head back, and I made a new friend who was as ecstatic as I was. She and I would pass each other a few times over the next few miles (our walking breaks weren't synced, usually), until I slowly started to pull away. The last I heard from her was a "GET MOVING NOW!!!" as I walked just a tad too long, and that motivated me to push through to the final crazy leg of the race...the trail run?!?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On pace for 2:45 or so run, I forgot that this was <b>Toughman NM: </b><b>would you like a trail run at mile 68.5 of your half Ironman?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They told us it was going to be "primitive" from about mile 11-12.5. We assumed perhaps gravel or a packed dirt road? It was, until around mile 11.5 or 12, gravel turned to sand, and a nice man at the final aid station told me to, "watch for rattlesnakes and don't trip on the little cacti, and just follow the cones through the bushes!!" By the time I went through (I was well in the back of the pack), there was a mostly discernible trail...but it didn't start out as anything but orange cones amongst scrub. I just had to laugh about it. I'm thankful I didn't twist an ankle, because if my footing is questionable when I'm alert, you should see me when I've been working out in the sunshine for seven and a half hours.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">FINALLY, I emerged from the wilderness back at the campground, and another paramedic (their constant presence was reassuring) told me that I was almost there!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I hit the top of the Wall, and it was ALL DOWNHILL FROM THERE!! I was worried, again, for my footing/joints running down the steep incline, but I WAS SO CLOSE!!!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SMILING AND DOING MY PATENTED T-REX ARM RACE POSE!!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just a sharp turn and a hard sprint to the finish line and I WAS DONE!! I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!!! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TOUGHMAN! Note my forthcoming treat on the right. (<a href="https://gillen-photography.smugmug.com/Events-folder/Toughman-NM/Toughman-NM-Photography" target="_blank">Curtis Gillen Photography</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Someone handed me my Toughman pint glass with an Otter Pop and my medal stuck inside!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> NBD, just finished 70.3 miles. (<a href="https://gillen-photography.smugmug.com/Events-folder/Toughman-NM/Toughman-NM-Photography" target="_blank">Curtis Gillen Photography</a>)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> "Ma'am, are you ok? Are you sure you're ok?" "Yes, gimme my Otter Pop, I'll be fantastic." (<a href="https://gillen-photography.smugmug.com/Events-folder/Toughman-NM/Toughman-NM-Photography" target="_blank">Curtis Gillen Photography</a>)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Liz, Lani, and Katie appeared and hugged me! Then I got super dizzy... Sitting in the shade and eating more Otter Pops fixed me right up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OFFICIAL TIME: 7:53:09</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had guessed 8+/-0.5 hours, so theory agrees with experiment. This put me in the middle third of my age group, which made me pretty darn happy for my first half IM.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The race photographer had a photo booth set up at the finish, which was pretty fun.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Katie! My favorite volunteer!!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz72p6HiObL825ZA6CPuOBicOi2JUlDo8G9IoSvLf4G1WMm2hAEXCw7doYEocMuXRpTbhvzarKRPLlL6brF6ZVXiL3aAyqCThwN1lC7nyGvfr3VvwNHs0AGb9hY7wqRWNXm7w7pcplF4o/s1600/20150823_154616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No GPS watch of mine has ever registered soooo many miles.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwDXZKz0Ykg/VdvoIvSBHsI/AAAAAAAAP_0/dSalDlCMKwE/s1600/20150823_191405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BwDXZKz0Ykg/VdvoIvSBHsI/AAAAAAAAP_0/dSalDlCMKwE/s640/20150823_191405.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn't eat much solid food, even though I needed calories. My poor tummy was in such an angry state. I drank water and Gatorade and managed a small bag of Cheetos on the ride back to Santa Fe. Katie and I stopped for Thai, because Pad Thai sounded great, but then tummy said NOPE after a few bites. (I devoured it at 9pm.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We tried something else. That Baskin Robbins Oreo Malt Shake went down VERY nicely.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SEE MY SUNBURN???? Just take a minute and reapply sunscreen in transition, ok?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally home, I took a bubble bath, ate my Pad Thai, pulled on my compression socks, and put up my feet, per Liz's suggestion.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6ZyZrb3lzmU-EYjgTH6IIS7UlyjIW6zCLu85iUsmS_B0Z6uaH7ykivfkWdiEZkZWToLDZw4CyO6CGdDW99AD6Xx0LRe3DD4TsBA2wEZkr9S__EVDRHEBA8RbSDTU_8V44kfI_ViYh0M/s1600/20150823_221424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6ZyZrb3lzmU-EYjgTH6IIS7UlyjIW6zCLu85iUsmS_B0Z6uaH7ykivfkWdiEZkZWToLDZw4CyO6CGdDW99AD6Xx0LRe3DD4TsBA2wEZkr9S__EVDRHEBA8RbSDTU_8V44kfI_ViYh0M/s640/20150823_221424.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Toughman NM had sweet swag, including my very first trucker hat and a cute t-shirt:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1bSlOPRdapA/VdvoJ4aPPoI/AAAAAAAAP90/a1WcBTWPO9A/s1600/2015-08-23%2B19.09.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1bSlOPRdapA/VdvoJ4aPPoI/AAAAAAAAP90/a1WcBTWPO9A/s640/2015-08-23%2B19.09.58.jpg" width="360" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The medal is one of my favorites. I adore our New Mexico flag and am so glad it was included.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VIKEw0KgOC0/VdvoEY9WdII/AAAAAAAAQA4/RPajsQ3WLtg/s1600/20150823_191621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VIKEw0KgOC0/VdvoEY9WdII/AAAAAAAAQA4/RPajsQ3WLtg/s640/20150823_191621.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Muffin says, "whoa, you got a lot of Toughman stuff!"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>What hurt next day?</b> Every muscle except my facial ones. Plus my sunburnt skin, which included my nose, so I guess even my face hurt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>How was work, since it was Monday? </b>Difficult, because besides the soreness, the poor air quality/questionable lake water gave me the sniffles, plus exhaustion, plus fuzzy brain...but I made it there by 8am and would love a gold star.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><b>Would you do it again? </b>Oh yes. I'm a</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">lready thinking about next year's 70.3s and have lined up a real coach that I will pay to answer my ten million questions, instead of relying on the patience of my friends. My completely wonderful and supportive friends!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>So what about a full Ironman? </b>In theory, I want to do a 140.6 before I'm 40…but I need a whole lot more race-pain amnesia before I'll commit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><b>How do you feel now? </b>I still can't believe it's over and I DID IT. </span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"> </b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;">It was brutal, but I never thought about quitting. I hated chunks of it, but overall, I loved the experience and am so proud that I finished strong and happy.</span><br />
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-68183081137301954342015-08-04T10:25:00.000-04:002015-08-04T10:25:38.783-04:00City of Lakes Olympic Triathlon: June 27, 2015<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">After my first foray into triathlons last year with the Los Alamos </span><span style="line-height: 17px;">sprint t</span><span style="line-height: 17px;">riathlon and the Las Campanas Compadres super sprint triathlon (</span><a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2014/09/two-triathlons-in-two-weeks-two-days.html" style="line-height: 17px;" target="_blank">read here</a><span style="line-height: 17px;">), I wanted to do another one because a) I had such a blast, b) I wanted to try a tri with an open water swim, and c) I wanted to build up to a tri with my favorite running distances. Thus, I set my sights on the <a href="http://www.fitfundamentals.com/city-of-lakes-triathlon" target="_blank">City of Lakes Triathlon</a>: an Olympic distance with a lake swim only a couple hours away from home.</span></span><br />
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<span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Training!</span></span><br />
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<span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Swimming is easily the hardest of the three sports for me. So, I took a few lessons from a swim coach (who gave me drills I initially loved and soon hated), I participated in a couple of clinics--one pool and one lake--by our local triathlon club (the Triatomics), and I took an open water swim clinic put on by a club from Albuquerque. The first time I swam in my new wetsuit in Cochiti Lake, it was pretty awful. I'd put my face in the water and start freestyle, and I'd freak out, unable to catch my breath or convince myself that I was breathing, despite the tight wetsuit. I also couldn't sight properly (or see a thing in the murky water), so disoriented and stressed, I zigzagged all over and tired myself out quickly. Almost immediately in the second clinic, though, I felt better. Everyone keeps saying it just takes time to get used open water swimming, and I'm slowly believing them. </span></span><br />
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<span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Biking was a challenge early this year, too, as I put on clipless pedals and had some special moments getting used to clipping in and out. I am thrilled to report that I have only fallen over ONCE, though, and it was only a couple of weeks ago, well after I got completely (too) comfortable in them. In the fall and winter, I attended a spin class at the lab's wellness center, which helped immensely with my cardio, strength, and speed. Friends and I biked the Los Alamos to White Rock Loop for the first time and started a new friendly (mostly female) cycling group along the way, too!</span></span><br />
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<span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Running is fantastic! Slower than I'd like, but not slow enough to get me to do speed work this schedule, so there we go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">For strength training, I've been going to a core class at the wellness center, as well as continuing MMA/Jeet Kune Do (though I backed off on that). </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">Santa Rosa is over two hours away, so I took my Friday off to drive down there, pick up my race packet, and check out the course. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">The Olympic swim leg was two loops of this beautiful little lake (the sprint was just one loop):</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 17px;">The water was clear, I saw wee fish, and I heard it was pretty shallow the whole way. I was not worried.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">PIECE OF CAKE, RIGHT??</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't preview the entire bike course, but it was, again, two loops of the sprint course:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Definitely easier than anything in Los Alamos.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I drove most of the running route, which was fairly confusing--we repeated the stretch along Reilly road twice (or four times, depending on how you count): up, down, up, down. "Keep track and make sure you do the right amount!!" One of my transition buddies forgot to do it twice and had to repeat it after the final little out-and-back. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">So much flatter than any six miles I can find here.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We ended at the beautiful <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Hole_(New_Mexico)" target="_blank">Blue Hole</a>. The tradition is to jump in after the race. I was super excited for this, especially as it was supposed to be sunny and in the 80s.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ts7-E3M9KjQ/VZNZBFBmDhI/AAAAAAAAOYY/bol8tvpPxgA/s1600/11403396_10104268999442798_3338486249765986439_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ts7-E3M9KjQ/VZNZBFBmDhI/AAAAAAAAOYY/bol8tvpPxgA/s320/11403396_10104268999442798_3338486249765986439_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My longstanding pre-race tradition is to set everything out, repack, and eat pasta. Santa Rosa's restaurant selections were, as far as I could ascertain: New Mexican, greasy diner, and pizza. I decided to go with pizza and breadsticks, and regretted not packing more food along with the bagels and bananas I brought for breakfast. Ah well, live and learn to not expect a simple Italian restaurant everywhere you go! I spent the evening knitting a baby blanket for my forthcoming niece and watching BBC America's marathon of Star Trek: TNG. So basically, it was amazing.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I love our race shirt!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Trusty steed Scotty is all ready to go!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Race morning </b>dawned bright and early and I jumped up excited and determined. I downed some terrible hotel coffee, ate my own bagel and banana with some hotel peanut butter, packed my transition bag, loaded Scotty, and headed to transition, where it poured.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The only time I've worn this schnazzy bike rain jacket.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: left;">Everyone: "COVER YOUR SHOES AND SEAT!!"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Despite the rain and chilly conditions, the lake was 79F: thus, it was not wetsuit legal after all. I had only practiced open water swimming in a wetsuit, though, and wanted the extra buoyancy. As the penalty for wearing one was only "you can't place in your age group," and not disqualification, I (and a bunch of others) decided to wear it anyway. Placing in my age group is definitely not a possibility at this point! A couple ladies near my transition spot put theirs on, too, so we bonded over needing our security blankets.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Official race photo of squeezing myself into my wetsuit.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Lookin' like a weird bug, ready to swim!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />I knew that warming up a bit would help me settle into the swim faster, so I did a couple of short laps in the little lagoon set aside for us. The water was certainly warm, but I just felt comfortable in it. Not too hot. I felt great. Relaxed. Ready. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My wave (women 31-34 + another age group of women [I'm 30, but USAT rules and my birthday combine so that I always race a year ahead]) was called, and we trudged into the waist-deep lake. The bottom was squishy, and there was much whining. I still felt great. Relaxed. Ready. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon, there was a countdown…and we were OFF!</span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.880290985107422px;"><b>City of Lakes Triathlon: SWIM. </b></span><span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>1</b></span><span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">500 <span class="workout-distance-units" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">m</span></span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span class="workout-time" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">00:43</span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span class="workout-pace" style="border: 0px; line-height: 17.549999237060547px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: nowrap;">45:58 pace</span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was a lesson in perseverance, and trying to pray for a quiet mind instead of swearing like a sailor. As soon as my wave started, I panicked and couldn't catch my breath. I'd put my face in, flail about, completely lose my mind, and have to breast stroke so I could breathe. <span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;">The kayakers kept asking if I was ok, especially as I graduated to needing to completely stop moving and just tread water/float in my security blanket (which was also suddenly SO CONSTRICTIVE GET IT OFF).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;">I seriously considered a) quitting completely, b) quitting after the first loop and doing the Oly bike and run anyway, even though I'd be DQ'ed, and c</span><span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 20.311416625976563px;">) quitting after the first loop and dropping to the sprint.</span><span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;"> But I was really looking forward to the bike and run (DARN IT I WAS MORE THAN PREPARED FOR THE BIKE AND RUN), and 3/4 of the way around the first loop, something clicked, and I finished the second loop with only one more little episode (by one of the kayakers who checked on me the first loop, which was embarrassing). I was second-to-the-last out of the water, but I wasn't the slowest swimmer overall thanks to the earlier waves! I have never been SO HAPPY to get out of a lake. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><span style="line-height: 18.880290985107422px;"><b>City of Lakes Triathlon: BIKE. </b></span><span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">25 <span class="workout-distance-units" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">mi</span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span class="workout-time" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">01:35</span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="workout-pace" style="border: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: nowrap;">15.8mph pace</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The bike was a beautiful two laps of a country road with nicely rolling hills. So much flatter than home! I passed a ton of people and nobody passed me, making up for my swim. I enjoyed myself so much! Before I knew it, I was back in transition and ready for the final leg.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Smile, you're done swimming!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;">City of Lakes Triathlon: RUN.</span><span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;"> </span></b><span class="workout-distance" style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">6.2 <span class="workout-distance-units" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">mi</span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span class="workout-time" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">01:09</span><span style="background-color: #1ce5f4; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 17.549999237060547px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="workout-pace" style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: nowrap;">11:08 pace</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The run felt super good. Santa Rosa is 3000' lower than Los Alamos, and the run was a billion times flatter than here, so it was awesome. I passed several people there, too, and only got passed by one gal. Once I finished that up-down-up-down stretch, I had one obnoxious hill in the last quarter mile or so. I was powering up and realized I could walk faster than I was running, so I did. After the turn around, I flew down to the finish line, where I g<span style="font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 1.35em;">ot to jump in the cold, cold<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Hole_(New_Mexico)" target="_blank"> Blue Hole!! </a></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Post-race and post-Blue Hole plunge!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First Olympic tri, with some panic:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Post-race refueling:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">banana from the finish line (they didn't provide much)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">leftover pizza in my hotel (woohoo late checkout!)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jurassic Smash Blizzard (absolutely incredible)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amount of stiffness encountered after the two-hour drive home:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All the stiffness</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next race:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://toughmannm.com/" target="_blank">Toughman NM</a>--hello, half Ironman!</span></b></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-16083049506760307232015-07-11T00:17:00.000-04:002015-07-11T10:19:03.669-04:00Ice cream pint koozies!I'm working on a post about my recent triathlon, but in the meantime, HERE'S A KNITTING PATTERN! If you need clarification, don't hesitate to ask. I whipped this up in an afternoon after a super long bike ride and a nap with Muffin:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yyrjCsH_evY/VaCV9c2oDZI/AAAAAAAAO2A/knPhqR9kkhQ/s1600/2015-07-10%2B16.09.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yyrjCsH_evY/VaCV9c2oDZI/AAAAAAAAO2A/knPhqR9kkhQ/s320/2015-07-10%2B16.09.58.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My massage therapist commissioned me to make ice cream pint koozies in exchange for massage time. Um, yes, I can do that!!<br />
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She showed me pictures on Pinterest of what she wanted, but the patterns weren't free, and since the concept is really simple, I just made my own. It's knit in one piece and there is one seam to close the loop. You can use whatever stitching pattern you like--I mixed it up with stockinette, garter, ribbing, and seed stitch.</div>
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<b>Materials</b></div>
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Loops&Threads Cozy Wool (82m/127g), or any bulky yarn</div>
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Size 9 needles--I used circular needles so I could wrap it around my Ben and Jerry's pint as I went to check sizing. Use whatever you want to get the gauge to fit your pint.</div>
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<b>Gauge (approximate)</b></div>
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Stockinette: 4in/12st, 3.5in/16 rows</div>
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Seed: 4.5in/12st, 3.5in/16 rows</div>
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<b>Knit it Up</b></div>
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See Figure 1 for the diagram. </div>
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<b>Cast on 27 stitches</b> (you're at the edge marked X). Using whatever stitch you want, knit 15-18 rows or about 3.5 inches. (I highly recommend checking your sizing with a pint of your favorite Ben and Jerry's as you go.)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PzDf31Mps1E/VaCYbw5IJYI/AAAAAAAAO20/U-c08C9mBnE/s1600/koozie_fig1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PzDf31Mps1E/VaCYbw5IJYI/AAAAAAAAO20/U-c08C9mBnE/s640/koozie_fig1.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 1.</td></tr>
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<b>Cast off 16 stitches.</b> You are now knitting the portion marked Y. Knit (in preferred stitch pattern) another 15-18 rows, enough so that when you fold it over (oval side to oval side in Figure 1), your hand can slip in comfortably, like Figure 2.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 2.</td></tr>
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We're going to <b>simultaneously cast-off and seam oval side to oval side. </b>(Or you can cast off normally and sew it.) I don't know what this is called and don't feel like googling it, so pay attention to my rambling:</div>
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First stitch: transfer stitch A to the right needle, pick up a stitch (B) along the bottom of the long side (marked X) with the left needle, transfer stitch A back to the left, and knit A and B together to make stitch C.</div>
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Rest of stitches: transfer stitch C from the left to the right needle, pick up stitch D from side X with the left needle. Knit stitch D, so it's on the right needle now. Cast off stitch C. </div>
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Continue until you have one stitch left on the needle and the rest are seamed. Cut the yarn, pull through, voila! You have finished knitting!</div>
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<b>Finishing the koozie: </b>Sew the rectangle edges (Figure 1) together. Like normal sewing. If you sew wrong side edges together and then turn it right side out, it looks neater.</div>
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Go crazy with colors and stitch patterns and ICE CREAM EATING. I highly recommend the Tonight Dough, while watching the Tonight Show, because cookie dough is amazing and Jimmy Fallon is adorable.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SO MUCH DOUGH.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stockinette on the bottom, garter at the top, 1x1 rib for the handle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seed stitch the whole way!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMFLtMvr0eefFUrGwyyIJpn_pgw07UGcXzbB42nRXM3rzmEw87OichIiRoT8CEu1GYz9WQz50If9suEjCDOR3QvvdTMrRfWkAVwsPho9xQslxrhgtwVEUA1MqVU6nwDblD6jI-z_Nkes/s1600/20150710_170817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMFLtMvr0eefFUrGwyyIJpn_pgw07UGcXzbB42nRXM3rzmEw87OichIiRoT8CEu1GYz9WQz50If9suEjCDOR3QvvdTMrRfWkAVwsPho9xQslxrhgtwVEUA1MqVU6nwDblD6jI-z_Nkes/s320/20150710_170817.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deliciousness.</td></tr>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-16227478517017839982015-04-21T23:03:00.000-04:002015-04-21T23:04:21.074-04:00Meet Meitner MuellerOn March 19th, I adopted a nine-month-old guinea pig from a vet in Santa Fe. He had been surrendered with an abscess on his jaw that required expensive (for a rodent) surgery. The vet performed the surgery (twice) and got him healthy, but couldn't keep him herself. So I got him!<br />
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To keep the theme of my pet names (see cats Faraday and Maxwell), I named him Meitner Mueller. Meitner after <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lise_Meitner" target="_blank">Lise Meitner</a>, physicist who co-discovered fission, and Mueller after <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_M%C3%BCller" target="_blank">Thomas Müller</a>, one of my favorite German soccer stars. He goes by Meiti Pig usually--it sounds exactly like "mighty pig."<br />
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Hi, Meiti Pig!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JoKTJCQUSs/VTcO4knk5GI/AAAAAAAAM8I/2LbdxvUX7AA/s1600/11071960_10103968574776238_7395850947665849405_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JoKTJCQUSs/VTcO4knk5GI/AAAAAAAAM8I/2LbdxvUX7AA/s1600/11071960_10103968574776238_7395850947665849405_n.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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Faraday and Max LOVE him. They would probably love him to death, but that's why piggies live in cages.<br />
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I'm starting a series on my almost-never-used-these-days blog of Meiti Pig Wearing Clothes. He's happy to do it, as long as you give him a carrot!<br />
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Enjoy. :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9lYHV9pHCig/VTcPHrsP1tI/AAAAAAAAM8g/huGOXl2RtvM/s1600/11083829_10104015150557998_3712935568124606679_n-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9lYHV9pHCig/VTcPHrsP1tI/AAAAAAAAM8g/huGOXl2RtvM/s1600/11083829_10104015150557998_3712935568124606679_n-2.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HAPPY EASTER!!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoucErmwvYu4Tt_V8wzhn3DVsNvoGz_apcsL2LKLlnwISEpI19gWBgLbG1pVMmycMwbbl9iMmXnHFDIjj0NOFh7pBLZnrI_2hUMo9Ub0g_gRm77WaicV7fTXbMldAWhpSYgTcs5IrCaGs/s1600/11113576_10104033381308428_7614876200821182333_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoucErmwvYu4Tt_V8wzhn3DVsNvoGz_apcsL2LKLlnwISEpI19gWBgLbG1pVMmycMwbbl9iMmXnHFDIjj0NOFh7pBLZnrI_2hUMo9Ub0g_gRm77WaicV7fTXbMldAWhpSYgTcs5IrCaGs/s1600/11113576_10104033381308428_7614876200821182333_n.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meitner discovers fission.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RB1iYAQ0YVw/VTcPIVE4aCI/AAAAAAAAM88/697lNuCjyvw/s1600/11149343_10104058556527088_8427711197039114087_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RB1iYAQ0YVw/VTcPIVE4aCI/AAAAAAAAM88/697lNuCjyvw/s1600/11149343_10104058556527088_8427711197039114087_n.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MEITI PIG. FIGHTER OF CRIME.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pzDUm1CWa2oYYX00Tz5nxMYG5d9h5BqYOSnCMnJUaig-4w-yTNNTxJ8wBEcAjIr4RGvRW5W5D3Am8sd5rZnd1LuE1HBS5zy-7vR1K881RMX13rIXKg1Vge6IobXzTC96EmgNlx3oTaI/s1600/11174854_10104058556746648_5508816553058186425_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pzDUm1CWa2oYYX00Tz5nxMYG5d9h5BqYOSnCMnJUaig-4w-yTNNTxJ8wBEcAjIr4RGvRW5W5D3Am8sd5rZnd1LuE1HBS5zy-7vR1K881RMX13rIXKg1Vge6IobXzTC96EmgNlx3oTaI/s1600/11174854_10104058556746648_5508816553058186425_n.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EATER OF CARROTS.</td></tr>
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-65709222883507802542015-01-16T00:05:00.000-05:002015-01-16T10:57:48.492-05:00Lady Loki: burdened with glorious purpose…and gold duct tape.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wc0bkw5uun4/VLh_d1W7lVI/AAAAAAAAJ-Q/tu3mjqSL4L0/s1600/10917130_690171239820_4594549896687135879_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Wc0bkw5uun4/VLh_d1W7lVI/AAAAAAAAJ-Q/tu3mjqSL4L0/s1600/10917130_690171239820_4594549896687135879_n.jpg" height="320" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Effects courtesy of Katie's friend.</span></td></tr>
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Last year, my friend Katie and I attended the Albuquerque Comic Con, our first comic convention. We jumped right in and cosplayed, as a Vulcan and Bajoran:</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtFK9ryXpfo/VLhraRM-zrI/AAAAAAAAJ80/FhNx1nTbF1U/s1600/1601961_10102709644417768_1517821021_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtFK9ryXpfo/VLhraRM-zrI/AAAAAAAAJ80/FhNx1nTbF1U/s1600/1601961_10102709644417768_1517821021_o.jpg" height="320" width="288" /></a></div>
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It was so much fun, and we decided quickly to go as our favorite characters from the Marvel movies this year. She started creating a Thor costume, and I got to work on my Loki outfit and accessories. </div>
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I knew I wanted to do a classy Lady Loki version. A quick Google image search reveals that this is a very popular costume in a wide variety of styles and taste levels. While I got ideas and inspiration from other women's costumes, I mainly based mine on this outfit from the Avengers:</div>
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XBR3fEC9-QY/VLhyti0TJtI/AAAAAAAAJ9I/uz-Z_I4SWrM/s1600/7219833754_db5827f35a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XBR3fEC9-QY/VLhyti0TJtI/AAAAAAAAJ9I/uz-Z_I4SWrM/s1600/7219833754_db5827f35a_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">He is a beautiful man.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNr8sxLd0chpIliLCQqfnqxy2-P3W65koVm4-kt1BB310H2VePMYAJU_IYDVYV8SX66b4d-Q6cMYOe5D_mdqGLbCGni_kkhQPTee251BM6szaUHfuMUHDpRH3uVMCElyi7u198TKaY7E/s1600/Loki-in-Avengers-loki-thor-2011-29905619-355-393.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghNr8sxLd0chpIliLCQqfnqxy2-P3W65koVm4-kt1BB310H2VePMYAJU_IYDVYV8SX66b4d-Q6cMYOe5D_mdqGLbCGni_kkhQPTee251BM6szaUHfuMUHDpRH3uVMCElyi7u198TKaY7E/s1600/Loki-in-Avengers-loki-thor-2011-29905619-355-393.png" height="320" width="289" /></a></div>
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My first major find was a gorgeous Calvin Klein dress at TJ Maxx for only $50:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxC3ONeSHNE0wu1e6u6T1W3AKbhITXLyylz7U0Vs4KZf_TXQL6rvdiSi6TJ5zasGbtYB3TL8tSiD-5XRGJwmhCEMqjbFk7mf33UcUE22fLLeXkHkU5phg2rhYB4_pOYO1JVDA2nB8dUU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-10-21+at+12.19.29+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxC3ONeSHNE0wu1e6u6T1W3AKbhITXLyylz7U0Vs4KZf_TXQL6rvdiSi6TJ5zasGbtYB3TL8tSiD-5XRGJwmhCEMqjbFk7mf33UcUE22fLLeXkHkU5phg2rhYB4_pOYO1JVDA2nB8dUU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-10-21+at+12.19.29+PM.png" height="202" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Regular price=so much more!</td></tr>
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Black boots I already had and black leggings from Target completed the base of my costume. Jewelry was surprisingly easy to find at Target as well: </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e33jJg5Gj2c/VLiaPFK4WjI/AAAAAAAAKC0/rM8cdQ37ics/s1600/20150115_215357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e33jJg5Gj2c/VLiaPFK4WjI/AAAAAAAAKC0/rM8cdQ37ics/s1600/20150115_215357.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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Then came the crafting!!! I am a sloppy seamstress and actually HATE hand stitching, but I love costume making, so I deal. </div>
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To break up all the black on my legs, I sewed felt together, edged it in (what you'll soon find was my favorite material) gold duct tape, and stuffed it in the tops of my boots:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25bcZ3nnl2DhG_jGf-LmaXMnZ6kJeZm_TB4Ig_kNNdo6gNWo92YMA6nEkWQDE2rdRqcmDhV-jGyIPk07wthWbivwwOwQCYMa_H_st1B89bPJ5ThQ7-_4ePlRMlAprXsswYeiErmO63Y4/s1600/20150111_153226_Boots.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25bcZ3nnl2DhG_jGf-LmaXMnZ6kJeZm_TB4Ig_kNNdo6gNWo92YMA6nEkWQDE2rdRqcmDhV-jGyIPk07wthWbivwwOwQCYMa_H_st1B89bPJ5ThQ7-_4ePlRMlAprXsswYeiErmO63Y4/s1600/20150111_153226_Boots.jpeg" height="320" width="314" /></a></div>
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I found some beautiful shiny and swishy green fabric and some brown faux leather at Joanne's. After kinda sorta measuring out what I wanted for my cape by holding it up to my shoulders, I cut the remainder off, not at all ensuring it was in a straight line. I used said remainder to make a belt/sash with the faux leather. There were so many pins and it was excruciating.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzmz5Swccpd1SCg1C4s0_qbEKaEUuw-ahYHeQAH017iLq4TsmavRFti12j78_uPxjpG4S_78RuFC3JTyMOr7HH7pNzYBey0fW3I69p5Clp1Hbga0vsSF7YdCsaBr6WyvV0jEMfGdvsic/s1600/20141025_202905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzmz5Swccpd1SCg1C4s0_qbEKaEUuw-ahYHeQAH017iLq4TsmavRFti12j78_uPxjpG4S_78RuFC3JTyMOr7HH7pNzYBey0fW3I69p5Clp1Hbga0vsSF7YdCsaBr6WyvV0jEMfGdvsic/s1600/20141025_202905.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">I suffer for my art.</td></tr>
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I also never quite finished the sides, but you know the great thing about capes? You can pin everything in the back and most people won't even care.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PiIoUxS9pdU/VLh-Iha5wgI/AAAAAAAAJ-E/GLvMxD_-hSo/s1600/20141031_190707_sash.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PiIoUxS9pdU/VLh-Iha5wgI/AAAAAAAAJ-E/GLvMxD_-hSo/s1600/20141031_190707_sash.jpeg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
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For the cape, I simply hand-stitched two of the corners of my rectangle of green fabric into the shoulder seams on my dress. I was really careful with this, because I actually want to wear my cute dress as a cute dress someday. </div>
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I finished all of the above in time for Halloween in New Orleans, where I happened to be for a conference and my 30th birthday. Keeping the facts in mind that I'd be flying with my costume and out and about in crazy masses of humanity, I kept the rest of it simple. For the epaulettes and the base of horned "helmet" headband, I simply used gold duct tape covered craft foam. The horns themselves are bunches of pipe cleaners covered in--of course--gold duct tape.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uPusKoFN5_g/VLiDweJDfhI/AAAAAAAAJ-c/xd-MR62w-a8/s1600/20141031_191121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uPusKoFN5_g/VLiDweJDfhI/AAAAAAAAJ-c/xd-MR62w-a8/s1600/20141031_191121.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Kelsey did my Halloween eye makeup for me!</td></tr>
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For Comic Con, I happened across the perfect epaulettes at Party City:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaah cheap bracelets are the best.</td></tr>
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I also wanted a much higher quality, more true-to-the-movie helmet. There are approximately one million tutorials on the internet. I took the most important ideas from <a href="http://www.craftymischiefbybrittany.com/2012/12/loki-helmet-tutorial.html" target="_blank">this one</a>, which used a cheap plastic costume construction helmet and a styrofoam heart cut in half for the horns. I found the hat at Party City for $3. Despite it being early January and thus prime time to start Valentine's Day store displays, I could only find a styrofoam circle. Katie and I both doubted strongly that I could make that into horns, especially when the best tool we had on hand was a box cutter, but turns out whittling lessons from Dad when I was little came in handy!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QhcqmnyskUA/VLiKO_FU5sI/AAAAAAAAJ-8/9dMkJn8AkuI/s1600/20150102_164433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QhcqmnyskUA/VLiKO_FU5sI/AAAAAAAAJ-8/9dMkJn8AkuI/s1600/20150102_164433.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d71JlpXPOdQ/VLiKQZfAkqI/AAAAAAAAJ_I/EMQqYE-RaYw/s1600/20150102_182656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d71JlpXPOdQ/VLiKQZfAkqI/AAAAAAAAJ_I/EMQqYE-RaYw/s1600/20150102_182656.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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In possession of horns, I set about turning my cheap, flimsy construction hat into a helmet using craft foam, hot glue, and, naturally, more than an entire roll of gold duct tape. My method was to glue a piece, try it on, look in the mirror or my web cam, eyeball it, glue some more. Totally worked.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zjbzOgk8p4U/VLiKQGClDjI/AAAAAAAAJ_E/nZWd4SbubwE/s1600/20150102_183532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zjbzOgk8p4U/VLiKQGClDjI/AAAAAAAAJ_E/nZWd4SbubwE/s1600/20150102_183532.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D7AveXPn02Y/VLiJ7ni1FgI/AAAAAAAAJ-s/gMOh6aFAbOk/s1600/2015-01-03%2B10.46.13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D7AveXPn02Y/VLiJ7ni1FgI/AAAAAAAAJ-s/gMOh6aFAbOk/s1600/2015-01-03%2B10.46.13.jpg" height="320" width="183" /></a></div>
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I tried spray painting the horns to avoid having duct tape seams everywhere. However, while I was waiting for the first coat to dry, the internet informed me that most spray paint reacts with the styrofoam and dissolves it, which it totally started to do on the shaved horn tips. So, what came to my rescue? Ah well, the seams weren't that bad.</div>
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Next, I wanted a scepter. I followed this <a href="http://cationdesigns.blogspot.com/2013/11/making-lokis-chitauri-scepter.html" target="_blank">tutorial</a> almost to the letter. I wanted a shape closer to his, however, so I googled "loki scepter," looked at ten million images, and freehanded it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Katie and I had an embarrassing moment in the hardware store, where we had to admit that the faucet handle was just for a costume and it didn't matter whether it was a "universal fitting" one or not.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Blade shape closest to the tutorial.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8mJKklUxFCU/VLiLB266jsI/AAAAAAAAJ_8/Z1mafbz5LGg/s1600/20150107_074949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8mJKklUxFCU/VLiLB266jsI/AAAAAAAAJ_8/Z1mafbz5LGg/s1600/20150107_074949.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Slimmed-down blade shape closer to Loki's movie scepter.</td></tr>
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For my final major craft project, I wanted a tesseract. Of course, the internet provided a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-LDa_sY7iE" target="_blank">Tesseract Tutorial</a>. I couldn't find a a blue LED at Michael's, so I bought one that I hoped was white and I painted the inside of the baseball display case a watery blue after spraying it with the frosted glass paint. Sadly, the LED was in fact yellow, and it looked really bad. However! My habit of keeping free conference/career fair goodies paid off, as I found a pen with a blue LED handle. Took it apart, wrapped it in wax paper, and it turned out pretty well, especially in pictures!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">I added a "dagger": my sonic screwdriver in a duct-tape sheath.</td></tr>
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Katie's costume was fantastic: she made her headpiece out of craft foam, her Mjolnir out of a spray-painted yoga block and wooden dowel, and she sewed, pinned, or hot glued her entire outfit! </div>
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Thor and Loki were blessed to attend ABQCC with their friend Rebecca, who not only was truly the most patient person and held their stuff and took their pictures all day, she also knew every single costume and character. "Rebecca, who is that?! What is he supposed to be?!" She rocks.<br />
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We made it our mission, after seeing a Tiny Ironman in line, to get pictures with every Avenger. We totally did. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Aaagh I'm surrounded!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Tiny Black Widow!</td></tr>
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Besides being awesome with my buddies Thor and Rebecca, the highlight of Comic Con was most definitely meeting William Shatner for ten seconds. We exchanged hellos, smiled, I said, "So nice to meet you!!!", he said, "It's a pleasure!", and someone yelled "NEEEXT!!!" It was meaningful.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">This makes me laugh so much.</td></tr>
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Katie is the best cosplay partner, and we're already thinking of costumes for next year! Any suggestions?</div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-65709223619793514062014-10-01T19:57:00.000-04:002014-10-01T20:09:05.670-04:00Ireland 2014, Part III: The Abbeys.<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"></span></b>See <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2014/09/ireland-2014-part-ii-cliffs-and-castles.html" target="_blank">part II</a> and <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2014/09/ireland-2014-part-i-slainte.html" target="_blank">part I</a>!<br />
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<span style="line-height: 1.38;">Day 4: Saw the lovely Holy Trinity Abbey and bought Irish wool in Adare, before finding a sweet pub for dinner and music on Galway! We also found an intriguing take on Irish history...</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> — with <span style="cursor: pointer;">Mandy</span> and <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany</span>.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span style="line-height: 1.38;">Remember my flat tire from yesterday? I envisioned at least a couple of hours of finding a mechanic with the right tire (I mean "tyre") and then sitting there waiting for it to be done. I'm pessimistic when it comes to cars. Because I don't like my vacation plans ruined or delayed (who does!), and because when I'm on a mission, I can't sleep or relax, I insisted upon getting up at the crack of dawn to just deal with it. It could not have gone more perfectly! The hotel manager called a mechanic in Limerick, who had the tire I needed in </span><span style="line-height: 22px;">stock</span><span style="line-height: 1.38;">. I annoyed a few commuters by driving 20km/h under the speed limit, but I got there safely. While I waited, very friendly men told me all about the beautiful places in their country that I should go to next time. Just </span><span style="line-height: 22px;">about twenty minutes later, I was on my way!</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span style="font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.38;">I've been to an Irish mechanic! Got my car all fixed.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> — at <span style="cursor: pointer;">Mid West Tyres LTD</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">After finding my cheery companions, we left our musty hotel for good and spent a couple of hours in the beautiful Adare. In a bookshop, we found President Obama in an Irish history book:</span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">We drove by his ancestral village earlier, which we discovered by googling the Barack Obama Plaza. It appeared to be a very nice gas station. </span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">My main goal for the trip, as far as souvenirs go, was to find Irish wool. I <a href="http://www.adarewoollens.com/" target="_blank">totally did.</a> They didn't have much yarn, but it was gorgeous. I asked if it was actually local wool, and she said, "oh my brother-in-law owns the mill! But the sheep weren't all Irish--pure Irish wool is too rough." Good enough for me! I wish we'd visited <a href="http://www.kerrywoollenmills.ie/about.php" target="_blank">Kerry Woollen Mills</a>; apparently it's been making yarn for over 300 years! I got a ton of the <a href="http://www.kerrywoollenmills.ie/proddetail.php?prod=AranKnittingWoolGreenFleck" target="_blank">Aran knitting green fleck</a> and I'm going to knit myself a sweater. :)</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was pretty cute.</td></tr>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">We visited the lovely <a href="http://www.adareparish.ie/" target="_blank">Holy Trinity/Trinitarian Abbey</a>, which was <a href="http://www.limerickdioceseheritage.org/Adare/chAdare.htm" target="_blank">founded in 1230.</a></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That bag is entirely filled with wool, and <br />
took up my entire backpack as one of my carry-ons on the plane home.</td></tr>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">After a stroll through a park (where we met a puppy), we had lunch in a fun pub and then drove north.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> We were first pretty unimpressed by Galway, but that is partially due to the fact that we had to use the bathroom really badly, drove around and around before finding a decent place to park next to a mall (which *surely* had bathrooms), then literally walked the entire length of the mall before finding the bathroom, which cost 20 cents to enter and would ONLY take a 20-cent coin. Life significantly improved after that.</span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Deciding that anywhere would be prettier than the mall, we started wandering. We wandered into a bookstore, which didn't have my other main souvenir goal, but they suggested I try <a href="http://charliebyrne.com/" target="_blank">Charlie Byrne's</a> just down the street. Guess what? I need to mail a package to Canada soon:</span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">The streets only got cuter, the farther we wandered. Hunger soon dictated that we pick one of many beautiful restaurants that promised live music. </span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">We pretty much found the best one. They had good food, drinks, and access to the WORLD.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">So happy for Guinness and free WiFi!</span></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> — with <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany</span> and <span style="cursor: pointer;">Jessica</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">The evening got even better when the music started! Two super talented gentlemen played fantastic rock with that terrific lilting Irish folk influence. It was open mike night, and every person who played the guitar or sang was great.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Jess and Beth's future husbands... If Glen Hansard comes in, I'm never coming home. Sorry <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bob</span></span></span></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> — with <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany</span> and <span style="cursor: pointer;">Jessica</span>.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Mandy is ever helpful.</span></span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Our journey ended that day in Castlebar, at the Breaffy House Hotel. It was mildly spooky in the dark, and the room was pretty sterile, but it did not smell like mold. It's the little things.</span></span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Day 5: Lazy rainy day in the (not) hopping village of Castlebar. Besides ice cream, the highlights were definitely the food at Bar One, the GPS' insistence that we take the 30-minute, cow-pasture route home instead of the 10-minute, two-cars-could-actually-fit-here route home, and the Ballintubber Abbey. The Abbey was constructed in 1216 on the site of a well used by St. Patrick for baptism in 441. THAT IS A LONG TIME AGO. Side note: Pierce Brosnan got married there.</span></span></span></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"> — with <span style="cursor: pointer;">Mandy</span> and <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany</span>.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">Tuesday was our only real rainy day. It was also our only day without any sort of plan. Too bad we were in Castlebar, a small town that is definitely not set up well for tourists. It was kind of like being a tourist in Los Alamos on a Tuesday, I imagine! Though Castlebar totally wins in the restaurant department. We had lunch and coffee in a cozy spot, visited a few shops, and ate some amazing ice cream.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chocolate "flake" makes vanilla soft serve 12309 times better.</td></tr>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24">We tired of Castlebar itself and drove off through cow pastures to the <a href="http://www.ballintubberabbey.ie/" target="_blank">Ballintubber Abbey</a>. It was built in 1216 (almost 800 years ago!), on the site of a well used by St. Patrick for <a href="http://www.mayo-ireland.ie/en/towns-villages/ballintubber/ballintubber.html" target="_blank">baptism in the 430s</a> or 440s (like over 1500 years ago!!). The abbey also has the distinction of being the site of <a href="http://destinationwestport.com/places-to-visit/towns-and-villages/ballintubber/" target="_blank">Pierce Brosnan's wedding.</a></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sean a' Sagart Tree, under which the "notorious priest hunter" is buried. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Patrick's well?! It wasn't marked, so probably not. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany knows an awful lot about sheep, it turns out!</td></tr>
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I absolutely love visiting old abbeys and cathedrals in Europe. So beautiful. So peaceful. (Especially the ones in remote villages accessed by narrow cow-pasture roads. Westminster was ah-mazing and anything but peaceful.)</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">As the rain poured, we drove back into town for dinner. We ended up at Bar One, where the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sticky_toffee_pudding" target="_blank"> sticky toffee pudding</a> WAS TO DIE FOR. I intend to make it soon. The GPS was really, truly, not our friend going home. On the way to town, we followed the hotel's instructions and got there in ten minutes. On the way home in the dark, the GPS took us in what we're certain was a giant square around the hotel, through more pastures, on literally-only-one-car-fits-here roads. It took over half an hour. Oof.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24">That's enough pictures for one post! I will conclude next time. :)</span><br />
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-40928822724096184882014-09-29T23:28:00.000-04:002014-09-30T10:27:58.043-04:00Ireland 2014, Part II: Cliffs and Castles. <span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>See part I <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2014/09/ireland-2014-part-i-slainte.html" target="_blank">here!</a></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">The traditional "everyone looks cute but the person manning the gps in the back seat" photo. But somehow we all missed the memo, so instead I bring you Mandy looking great while Jess and I creepily smile into the camera.</span></span></span></div>
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Our drive to the cliffs was beautiful. We stopped in the visitor upon arrival, skimmed some displays, and walked out to one of the most amazing views we've ever seen.</div>
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We walked the cliffs trail for quite a ways, stopping every three seconds for more pictures and to marvel at each new angle. The weather was perfect. With clouds the previous day and rain rolling in the next couple, we were so blessed.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her hair color was brilliant. </td></tr>
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Nearing the top of our final hill, we saw Italian teenagers taking this kind of silly photo:<br />
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Mandy took it one step further, and started this trend:</div>
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When we left, several other groups were pretending to fall off the cliffs, too. Don't worry, Mom: the ledge I was on was quite wide and sturdy.</div>
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We were reluctant to leave, but had to drive to the tiny village of Doolin for the Cliffs of Moher cruise. This is where our wee mishap happened. The combination of driving on the left, having all that car on a side I'm not used to, the narrow two-cars-can-barely-fit-here windy roads with walls on each side was just too much for a split second, and BAM. My front left tire hit something pretty hard. Shoot. It was a while before it was safe to pull over, and indeed. A hissing sound is never good. Bethany suggested we just drive to the boat and deal with it afterward, and I'm so glad we did. Finding the cruise office was stressful (our dear GPS had NO idea where it was--we just wandered a bit until we saw signs), as was finding parking. The dock itself was a 2km walk from the office, and we arrived just in time!</div>
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It was fantastic. The rocking of the boat almost put me to sleep, but when we got close to the cliffs, it was too awe inspiring to nap!</div>
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The less-rushed walk back to Poor Car delivered some spectacular views, too:</div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Our favorite two words here in Ireland are "full coverage." Glad we got that insurance package! </span></span></span></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"> — with <span style="color: #3b5998;"><span style="cursor: pointer;">Mandy</span></span> and <span style="color: #3b5998;"><span style="cursor: pointer;">Jessica</span></span>.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Back at the car, with its fully flat tire, we set about putting on the spare. We found all the equipment and knew exactly what to do.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spare was good!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a jack!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mandy knows how to work that thing.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #4e5665;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 1.38;">Only</span><span style="line-height: 19px;">…</span><span style="line-height: 1.38;">the wrench we had was too short to get proper leverage. There were two pieces, but they didn't fit together. All three of us tried. Hard.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n7ZCOIOuIU0/VCiJlf6d6MI/AAAAAAAAF5Y/StCRt2fXRps/s1600/10445989_10101044095651000_2711013406992603281_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n7ZCOIOuIU0/VCiJlf6d6MI/AAAAAAAAF5Y/StCRt2fXRps/s1600/10445989_10101044095651000_2711013406992603281_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's a matter of…leeeeverage…savvy?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #4e5665;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 1.38;">Mandy finally walked to town (a NYC block away) to find help, while Bethany called to verify with the rental company that we'd get reimbursed if we got the tire replaced. We would! Yes!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;">Mandy returned shortly with Bill O'Brien, who happens to own the cruise line</span><span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">…</span><span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;">that we did not take. Shoot! If you're ever in Doolin, please use </span><a href="http://www.obrienline.com/" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;" target="_blank">O'Brien's Cliffs of Moher cruise!</a><span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;"> This sweet Irish gentleman and his daughter (probably in her early 20s?) said to not worry, it happens all the time. In fact, his American daughter-in-law got SEVEN flats in a week when she first visited. Ha! Mr. O'Brien got our lug nuts off with a few swift kicks to the wrench, all while on his cell phone. We were soon on our way, slowly, keeping under 80km/hour. So, so grateful!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #4e5665; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38;">We stopped in Lehinch on the way out of the area to enjoy a drink, some ice cream, and free wifi. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mandy's IPA and my porter: SO GOOD.</td></tr>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Day 3, part II: medieval feast at Bunratty Castle. Totally campy and delicious and wonderful, with madrigals and minstrels, meat and mead.</span></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"> — with <span style="color: #3b5998;"><span style="cursor: pointer;">Mandy</span></span> and <span style="color: #3b5998;"><span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany</span></span>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Our big event of the night was a medieval feast at <a href="http://www.shannonheritage.com/BunrattyCastleAndFolkPark/" target="_blank">Bunratty Castle</a>, a real castle from the early 1400s that has been turned into a folk park and museum. As it was on the way home from the cliffs, we decided not to skip it just because of the tire. </span></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">We were welcomed by bagpipes into a small entryway, and shuffled up a winding staircase into a great hall, where we were promptly given mugs of mead and entertained by a violinist and a harpist.</span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">The furnishings are pretty authentic, we were told, and we were given a bit of history of the place, before being serenaded by a lovely madrigal performance.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Finally, we were invited down another narrow staircase into the dining hall. The performers doubled as our servers for the evening, and they explained that we'd be given no silverware (except a dagger).</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">We sat at long, communal tables, and enjoyed some wine (we were very sad that there was no more mead):</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Our food was delicious. We drank parsnip soup out of bowls, devoured pork ribs (with BBQ sauce...) with abandon and the occasional help of our daggers, and had to wait for the fingerling potatoes and chicken with herb cream sauce to cool, but we managed. I was the only one of the three to enjoy dessert--a thick berry mousse with a slightly strange, jam-like topping. We were given one spoon to assist with the mousse. Courses were interspersed with music and silly storytelling.</span><br />
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">Satisfied and happy, we continued our under-80km/hour journey back to our musty hotel. We made it without problems, and settled in for a goodnight's sleep.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #4e5665;">My next (final?) post will discuss our adventures in small villages and bigger cities, touring abbeys and listening to great live music!</span></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-85460393433452449802014-09-28T20:37:00.001-04:002014-09-28T20:54:19.068-04:00Ireland 2014, Part I: Sláinte!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="color: #444444;">My dear childhood friends, Mandy and Bethany, and I just returned from a beautiful week in Ireland. We met so many wonderful people, saw so much of the gorgeous countryside, drank so much good beer, and tried very little black pudding.<br />
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All three of us kept Facebook apprised of our adventures, and I enjoyed our posts so much that this will basically be a filled-out version of those. With more pictures! Yes!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">September 18</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">We've been traveling since 3am in each of our timezones and we're only in JFK. Waiting eagerly for Mandy and our 9pm flight to Dublin!</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NZ9QXSfbW7A6i1BaTvnE_BuxCCTnQQVRBNR0TDbGzqLmQTf-2zlJIQl4pyk_vDoHxHCeHxbFcVCV2ShqxiuxHlJplJA9qLRxnvPKGPyAB2p0G0SOjLCLgtfbEVryXgtIkLY-AJe8bZU/s1600/IMG_20140918_164136_777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NZ9QXSfbW7A6i1BaTvnE_BuxCCTnQQVRBNR0TDbGzqLmQTf-2zlJIQl4pyk_vDoHxHCeHxbFcVCV2ShqxiuxHlJplJA9qLRxnvPKGPyAB2p0G0SOjLCLgtfbEVryXgtIkLY-AJe8bZU/s1600/IMG_20140918_164136_777.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">September 19</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Day 1(ish): Dublin. Ireland is beautiful and its people are so nice. I've never had beer art before. The Guinness Storehouse is well worth visiting. Finally, once you get over the terror, driving in the left is pretty fun, and I can even park within the lines now. Gooooodnight!</span></b></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #444444; font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><b> — with Mandy and Bethany.</b></span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">We found Mandy eventually, and the three of us survived the long transatlantic flight. We breezed through customs, found cash and coffee, and spent a good half an hour with Dooley rental cars while they located our car and shuttled us to it. Then all of a sudden, we were given a Renault Fluence and expected to actually drive it out of the car park and into a busy CLOCKWISE roundabout. Beth and I were the drivers this trip, and she volunteered my foggy brains for the first turn. It was pretty terrifying. With my two backseat drivers yelling "LEFT!" every other minute, though, we made it out of the car park, through the roundabout, and down the road thirty seconds before we pulled over at a pub for a full Irish breakfast.</span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Driving on the wrong side of the road!!! We made it a 1/2 mile and stopped for breakfast... This is tough! Check out this sweet parking job!</span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">I don't want to die.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Too hard to park.</span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Full Irish breakfast! First meal in Ireland is not too shabby!</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">The Full Irish Breakfast was impressively hearty. I tried everything, except for the white and black pudding (the cookie-looking things in the upper left). I had read about black pudding, also known as blood pudding. No thank you. I was scared away from the white pudding, but turns out, it's only sausage and grains! (Okay, I also didn't eat the mushrooms. I don't like them in general.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">Fortified, we began our tumultuous relationship with the rental car's GPS and headed onto the highway toward Dublin proper.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKWCSBtprBJpp3gJ8I1xa4XeJ7e7YGfVLwX_AOmClB2dQyMAvKYTgYelxW-4shKoRKDtoy7TplAcGg0Q7KYPNCBuAhUuiop3wHB20kYOyaVMhyphenhyphenVjQCVjG02Qwxl-ZbZ1y0sX__ArIsZM/s1600/IMG_20140919_122820_778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKWCSBtprBJpp3gJ8I1xa4XeJ7e7YGfVLwX_AOmClB2dQyMAvKYTgYelxW-4shKoRKDtoy7TplAcGg0Q7KYPNCBuAhUuiop3wHB20kYOyaVMhyphenhyphenVjQCVjG02Qwxl-ZbZ1y0sX__ArIsZM/s1600/IMG_20140919_122820_778.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">I'm driving! Mandy's yelling "STAY LEFT!" Beth figures out the GPS!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444;">In a light rain, we arrived at our destination: the Guinness Storehouse. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">Here, we staved off the urge to nap with the self-guided tour through the old storehouse's seven floors. Guinness's distinctive flavor is from their roasted barley, we learned. The most interesting, albeit a bit much for the senses, was the Tasting Experience. You walk through a very dark hallway into a bright white room with four columns emitting vapors of four scents related to the beer: hops, barley, malt, and I can't remember what else. The smells got to be a bit much after a while, but we were soon instructed to take a small glass of Guinness into the next room. This was decorated like an old study or library, with dark wood paneling, deep green drapes, and painted portraits and busts of old dudes. Here, we were led in a proper tasting: lift your elbow up as if you are going to salute, inhale deeply, take a long sip, then exhale and TASTE THE GUINNESS. It tasted fantastic. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">We also learned an Irish toast: Sláinte! ("Health!") Actually pronounced something like "Slahn-cha," it took us several tries to stop saying "cilantro."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">At the top of the Storehouse, we enjoyed a free pint (with beer foam art!) and views of cloudy Dublin.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNagQbh_fUo/VB29pTIQ9jI/AAAAAAAAFRI/LSroD8j_jos/s1600/IMG_20140919_144847_241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNagQbh_fUo/VB29pTIQ9jI/AAAAAAAAFRI/LSroD8j_jos/s1600/IMG_20140919_144847_241.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">We sleepily drove from there about an hour west to our amazingly beautiful hotel in Killenard: <a href="http://www.theheritage.com/" target="_blank">The Heritage</a>. It completely spoiled us for the rest of our trip, which was organized by a travel agency and purchased as a Groupon. I must say, it's clear they spent most of the housing allowance on this place.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">We barely made it through dinner at the resort's restaurant before crashing. This was the only hotel that gave us two rooms. My friends sweetly let me have my own for that night, as a reward for not killing them while driving just off the plane on the weird side of the road.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">Day 2: Killenard, Limerick, Adare. After a countryside run on our resort grounds, we toured a beautiful estate named Emo Court. We found delicious fish 'n' chips and walked along the water in Limerick. Finally, we arrived in adorable Adare, where we entered our hotel to bagpipes almost alongside a bride and groom. We're definitely in the wedding video... That was awkward. We promptly left the wedding for Irish stew and beer in town.</span></div>
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<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #444444;">As our resort boasted a 5k trail around its golf course, and because sunlight (loosely defined for Ireland--these Washington girls felt right at home) and activity are essential for me to adjust to a new timezone, I got up early and had a refreshing run. I even got to pet a kitty!</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TIgexKn7VyY/VB27tiJa0OI/AAAAAAAAFOg/UbouTn8aMOg/s1600/IMG_20140920_083755_080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TIgexKn7VyY/VB27tiJa0OI/AAAAAAAAFOg/UbouTn8aMOg/s1600/IMG_20140920_083755_080.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">The hotel across the golf course.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7TisO_0Yow/VB27zZ8q3iI/AAAAAAAAFOw/ZxTI5ZcvoSY/s1600/IMG_20140920_083915_768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k7TisO_0Yow/VB27zZ8q3iI/AAAAAAAAFOw/ZxTI5ZcvoSY/s1600/IMG_20140920_083915_768.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pretty stone church.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">It was damp and cool and felt like fall!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tbA0YfcrMvY/VB25qtW12dI/AAAAAAAAFL4/0TCQbONh2B4/s1600/IMG_20140920_090542_133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tbA0YfcrMvY/VB25qtW12dI/AAAAAAAAFL4/0TCQbONh2B4/s1600/IMG_20140920_090542_133.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">IRISH KITTY.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 19px;">I met the ladies (after a shower) at breakfast, where we enjoyed the first of several buffets that combined traditional Irish breakfast foods (gimme all the fried eggs and hash browns!) and what I've seen in other European countries' hotel breakfasts (yogurt+all sorts of good fixings, fruit, a variety of breads and pastries). Soon, it was time to break in a new driver and head for the west coast.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Day 2... Beth is driving on the left side of the road!!!</span></b></div>
<span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24"><span class="userContentSecondary _c24" style="color: #444444;"><b> — with <span style="cursor: pointer;">Bethany and</span> <span style="cursor: pointer;">Jessica</span>.</b></span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Beth is driving! Mandy's yelling LEFT! I'm fiddling with the GPS!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">On the way west, we stopped at <a href="http://www.heritageireland.ie/en/midlandseastcoast/emocourt/" target="_blank">Emo Court</a>, a lovely estate designed in 1790 for the</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Earls of Portarlington. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">We took a little tour, and learned that i</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">t was sold to the Jesuits for a while, and in 1960, was purchased and restored by a wealthy businessman, who lived there until he died in the 1990s. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">We continued on toward our small-village destination of Adare, stopping in Limerick for the afternoon. I had phenomenal fish and chips. Bethany purchased some sassy red lipstick that she rocked for the rest of the trip!</span></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Limerick's waterfront!!! Such a cute little town for lunch, coffee and shopping!</span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">So sassy!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 19px;">Now, I'd be hard pressed to find a more awkward way to enter a hotel. After a snafu with the GPS and misguided expectations, we parked at the Fitzgeralds Woodland House Hotel, loaded ourselves up with luggage, and rolled loudly toward the front entrance, accompanied by cheerful bagpipes. Soon, we realized that not only was there a bride and groom out front, they were preparing to imminently run through the doors in triumph to their fascinator-wearing guests and reception. Annoyed at this hurdle between us and our room, yet embarrassed at the prospect of interrupting a wedding, we froze. A woman in wedding finery, rolling a large bag of her own on up behind us, said, "come on, girls!" and we followed her into the lobby, literally seconds before the happy couple. We're in the wedding video, indubitably. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Upon finally entering our room, we were hit by a deep, musty smell. Not wanting to linger, neither in the mold nor at the reception, we drove off for the adorable village of Adare. I had delicious beef stew with hearty brown bread and an equally hearty stout at our first pub, and Mandy convinced me to try Jameson at the second. It was the first whiskey I've ever enjoyed! Don't give me the smokiness of Scotch or the harshness of the American whiskeys I've tried, but Jameson was quite smooth.</span></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #444444;">Just introduced these ladies to the awesomeness that is Jameson... I'd say they like it <i class="_4-k1 img sp_LWp1MpKGrs1 sx_85e800" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yP/r/90b8T5aM1AH.png); background-position: 0px -8088px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> Can't wait to tour the Jameson distillery later this week!!!</span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pub #1 for dinner and beer.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Pub #2 for whiskey.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #444444;">While the room was musty and not nearly as fancy as our first hotel, we slept okay after airing it out. We were there for two nights, so we made a point to not be in the room much. Stay tuned for Part II, which will have many pictures from </span><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 1.38;">my second day of driving on the left, </span><span style="color: #444444; line-height: 1.38;">our eventful trip to the Cliffs of Moher, and a cheesy-yet-awesome medieval feast at a real castle!</span></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-50257627697924937652014-09-06T17:20:00.001-04:002014-09-06T17:20:28.480-04:00Two Triathlons in Two Weeks + Two Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>HEY. I FINISHED A TRIATHLON. </b><br />
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<b>Then two weeks and two days later, I finished my second triathlon. </b>How did that happen?<br />
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I trained for my first 10k, half marathon, and full marathon (see <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/p/race-recaps.html" target="_blank">race recaps</a>) with good friends in graduate school, who fairly quickly followed those accomplishments by completing several triathlons. I wasn't interested at the time, as I wasn't that into swimming and biking pretty much served to get me to campus and back on Jersey's less humid days. But I thought well, if they can do it, I can do it. I just prefer to RUN.<br />
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Then I moved to Los Alamos, where a crazy high percentage of local friends have done the Los Alamos Triathlon, the oldest continuously running triathlon. A large percentage of that group does half or full Ironman races. When one is immersed in this environment (or just deprived of oxygen for long enough up here), one starts to think, "You know, I really do need to try a tri."<br />
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<b>First step? Start swimming once or twice a week.</b> I had breathing issues and mild panic attacks in the water at first, but I built up slowly (and made sure I never forgot my inhaler). Once I made it up to more than four up-and-back laps of the long course (50m), I knew that leg would be fine. Plus, I learned to love my 6:30am mornings at the aquatic center. Such a refreshing way to start the day!<br />
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<b>Second step: Get a decent bike.</b> I had my heavy hybrid commuter bike from NJ, which stinks the most on these mountain-town hills. I had a Lotus road bike from 1984 that my sweet friend Jenn helped me tune up, which worked for me for a while, until one too many things needed fixed. Other friends combed Craigslist for me and helped me find an excellent deal on a pretty Scott Contessa (her name is Scotty [she beams me places]).<br />
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<b>Third step: Actually ride the bike.</b> I am not very good at it! I have these phenomenal cyclist friends, though, who teach me so much. They've patiently ridden with me to Bandelier or the Back Gate up these horribly long hills (which happen to be part of the tri course), done emergency work on it two days before the race, and given me lots of shifting tips. To be honest, I never felt that the bike leg would be fine. Once I realized that I might have to FIX SOMETHING on my bike during the race, I almost panicked. <b>Beholden to a machine for race success/completion? Please just hand me my running shoes and set me free.</b><br />
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<b>Fourth step, speaking of: just keep running</b>. Not a problem. I'll never win for speed, but I'll keep moving.<br />
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All the way along, I had my friend Linda, from the Atomic City Roadrunners pace races. While she's been swimming and biking for a lot longer than I have, this was her first tri, too, so we obsessed about what to wear (<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">we didn't want to buy special clothes without knowing if we liked it), what to have in transition, how to do transitions, and whether we'd be the worst ever (we probably weren't). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b><b>~~~~~~~</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">40th Los Alamos Triathlon, August 16, 2014</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b><b>~~~~~~~</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">The race was seriously so much fun. So chaotic. So hard, but I made all my goals (finish, have fun, be strong) and better than I predicted. </span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SO MANY THINGS TO REMEMBER TO BRING.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Linda and I are marked up and ready to go!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">The Los Alamos triathlon's order is bike (12.4 miles), swim (400m), run (5k). The mass start of bikes was pretty concerning, but I hung back until we spread out and settled in for a difficult ride. I wouldn't say it was all fun…but it was exciting! I know a lot of fast people, so I got many encouraging smiles and words when they passed me on their way back. I couldn't keep the smile off my face when I got to the top of the </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">final hill coming back on the bike and had almost two miles of downhill to the transition area--I built up so much speed! I was so relieved: m</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">y bike had no mechanical issues!!!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Lori for the pictures!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">Transition 1 was fine--a friend was there cheering and followed me over to my spot, encouraging me while I changed. I stripped down to my swimsuit, threw on my goggles and swimcap, and jogged into the aquatic center. I couldn't catch my breath for the first 100m, but settled into a rhythm for the final 300m and thought, "Dude, I'm actually doing this…" I passed one person and got passed by one. Another worry was totally fine: no panic attacks! It was over quickly, then I climbed out and jogged back to my transition area (grabbing some water on the way from a nice volunteer). </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">Transition 2 was more awkward, because pulling spandex shorts over wet legs? Yeah...this is why people spend the big(ish) bucks on a tri suit. :) I will invest in one for next year. My friend was there again for encouragement and laughed when I got out my inhaler ("You and me, sittin' in transition, takin' hits off our drugs!"). I had spray-on sunscreen to reapply, but I was so excited to run that I left it off. Ah well--I was done by 9am, so hopefully I didn't do too much damage. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">All ready to run! I'm so happy to have one sport left!<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">The run was THE BEST. My legs felt very heavy and I couldn't physically move faster than I was going, but the volunteers were terrific (a friend had a cowboy hat on and was shaking a cowbell with the most enthusiasm EVER). There was shockingly only one real hill on this route, and I thought to myself, "well, I could say I ran the entire thing, or I could honestly get a better time by walking fast up the hill and recuperating a bit." So I walked that hill! The gal in front of me ran the whole way, but the distance between us actually decreased while I was walking. I chose well. From the turn-around, it was pretty much all downhill or flat, and I started to feel better, so I picked up speed. The last 0.5 miles were really painful for my quads, but I managed to sprint across the finish line!</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tony, Jessica, Linda</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">It was an amazing experience and everyone was so nice. I knew several of the winners (overall/age group/team), which was fun, too. It's such a sweet little local race (there were 131 finishers this year). We stayed for most of the award ceremony, enjoying Cokes (which I never feel like, but it sounded perfect) and bagels. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 23px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">My time was 1:50:42 overall. Bike (12.4 miles): 58:12, T1: 1:53, swim (400m): 13:49, T2: 2:58, run (5k) was 33:48. :)</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~</span></b><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;"><b>Las Campanas Compadres Mini-Triathlon, September 1, 2014</b></span></span><br />
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></b><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~</span></b><b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">~~~~~~~~</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 23px;">I'm not sure I had even finished my bagel when Linda said, "I found another tri. Let's do it." After a tiny bit of skepticism, I admitted that I couldn't think of a compelling argument against it, so I signed up for the Labor Day mini-triathlon (even shorter than the LA sprint tri) in the beautiful Las Campanas neighborhood of Santa Fe. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">Bear in mind: our pool closed after the tri for a three-month renovation, so we couldn't swim again before the race. But it was only 200yds in a short-course pool. That's totally flail-able. I also took about four days off of everything, except hiking, when my sister visited. Malish. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 23px;">At least I felt that chill about it for a week, and then I got a nervous. But it was too late to do much, because I didn't want to overdo it. Oh well. It was just for fun.</span></span><br />
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And we got great swag!<br />
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This one was in the regular triathlon order, of swim (200yds), bike (11.4 miles), run (5k). That meant that transitions were all new to me again. I got there super early, though, and was able to set up without feeling rushed. USAT apparently makes you run in the group for the age you'll be at the END of the year, which means I ran in 30-34. I am looking forward to turning 30, actually, but having a huge 3-0 in sharpie on my calf was a bit depressing. I'm still 2-9, people. Let me have my last month and a half in my 20s.<br />
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We both enjoyed singing the national anthem with the crowd at the start, and were only mildly confused by the athlete briefing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cVuT8avwWgg/VAtoNaVu4xI/AAAAAAAAFGI/EF66fiuSsJE/s1600/55246501-untitled-115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cVuT8avwWgg/VAtoNaVu4xI/AAAAAAAAFGI/EF66fiuSsJE/s1600/55246501-untitled-115.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my mildly confused face.</td></tr>
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The swim was once again in a pool. A very small, four-lane, 25-yards-long pool. They had us estimate a swim time when we registered, numbered us from fast to slow, and started everyone ten seconds apart. I was skeptical, but the wait wasn't too bad. I was the 85th out of about 180 people to start. Once in the pool, I noticed that a) it was salt water, b) it was at maximum depth only five feet, and c) it was insanely choppy. I swallowed so much water. Again, I passed one person and got passed once, so even though I predicted 6:49 and swam it in 5:04, it was successful! <div>
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Transition 1 was pretty slow. I was a little out of it--I pulled my spandex shorts on halfway, then sat down on the gravel, then put my socks and shoes on, then stood up and pulled the shorts on all the way. That's not how I planned it, exactly. But it worked. I did feel bad for getting some dirt on my neighbor's towel--notes for next time. Soon I was off biking, and MAN did it feel good!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS IS SO MUCH EASIER THAN LOS ALAMOS.</td></tr>
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<br />The course was a huge loop around Las Campanas, and started off blissfully downhill and then had really easy rolling hills for the first half or so. The uphills got a bit worse near the middle, but I kept reminding myself that they're all shorter than the ride to the Back Gate from the Los Alamos tri. We got this, legs. Keep pedaling. The views were fantastic--mountains at every horizon, bright blue skies, red dirt, green scrub.<div>
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Transition 2 was amazing. 36 seconds. I just had to drop off my bike, remove my helmet and gloves, throw on a hat, and go. </div>
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This run wasn't the most best. It was an out-and-back course that was uphill all the way out, and my legs missed that little swim break they got in the LA tri! Right off the bike is hard! I had really given it my all on the bike, too! I hadn't done any bricks that were bike-run, because my training was for bike-swim and swim-run legs, and this was a surprise race. So the legs were in shock for a little while.</div>
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Still, I sure enjoyed it. It was pretty, people at my pace are really friendly for the most part, and one of my favorite race pictures ever happened:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PtGHFB8oiy8/VAtoXFqGAJI/AAAAAAAAFGQ/CIP3mRJvVmw/s1600/55246499-untitled-141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PtGHFB8oiy8/VAtoXFqGAJI/AAAAAAAAFGQ/CIP3mRJvVmw/s1600/55246499-untitled-141.jpg" height="320" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
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Yes. Linda and I remember successfully high-fiving, but you wouldn't know by checking the photos.</div>
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I had enough in me to flat-out sprint to the finish, received my fancy medal, wolfed down some oreos, and scarfed a breakfast burrito. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52iALKRACGGhr8GbCfqLPfd63_lWK09Z8KrBNOwQ2U5a1RMr1KJITDj9nM_RTyy7u7wkZgMlpf0RMRPjNVP-g0F3lIrTbYn5NgKBXIPbpa0pU9WbiYkyMdEcVCPf4ChsaF9zCVhbr4AE/s1600/IMG_20140901_095624634_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52iALKRACGGhr8GbCfqLPfd63_lWK09Z8KrBNOwQ2U5a1RMr1KJITDj9nM_RTyy7u7wkZgMlpf0RMRPjNVP-g0F3lIrTbYn5NgKBXIPbpa0pU9WbiYkyMdEcVCPf4ChsaF9zCVhbr4AE/s1600/IMG_20140901_095624634_HDR.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
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We stayed for the kids' race (so presh) and awards. Good thing, because Linda won first in her age group!! Amongst my fellow 30-34 year olds (NOT 30 YET), I was first or second in the bike (one person doesn't have a time listed), last in the swim, fourth in the run, and fourth overall, out of six women. Not too shabby! I plan to work extra hard on swimming this winter.</div>
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Final numbers: overall 1:26:11, swim (200yds): 5:40 (faster pace than LA), T1: 3:07, bike (11.4 miles): 42:53 (faster pace than LA), T2: 0:36, run (5k): 34:28 (slower pace than LA).</div>
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<b>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</b></div>
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<b>next year!</b></div>
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I want to bike with clip-ins, buy and wear a tri-suit, do a sprint tri with an open water swim, and if and only if I like all that, maybe try an Olympic distance. :)</div>
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-3II6TU7iGVM%2FVAtT3LZPVzI%2FAAAAAAAAFFo%2FcU0m0LMXfAg%2Fs1600%2F10609512_10103299784781748_4213461044387539987_n-2.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HMFHt9VTsOXtFVwnZvMGK8ASzsib9n817bNRO9LFexNBCUHGvYh0-HFi6Tz8A8egU97U_jYbCAHYiGQ7AJE-ZC71CTXJVwThSJpqg7z3ygQvnxjlfcn42QVJp_V2_5cbcDIlGtkbY1A/s1600/10609512_10103299784781748_4213461044387539987_n-2.jpg" -->physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-90720718918815233272014-02-09T22:02:00.000-05:002014-02-10T08:26:43.007-05:00SEAHAWKS CAKE for Super Bowl XLVIIITHE SEAHAWKS WON THE SUPER BOWL!<br />
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For only the second [edited: third--apparently the Sonics went in 1996!] time in my lifetime, one of Seattle's big four sports teams went to the championship. The Seahawks had a phenomenal year, and for their final game, THE big game, I had to make an epic cake.<br />
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First, I purchased food coloring. A lot of it. And found more in my cupboard.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Se7h23TY2r8/Uvg4IJgUfcI/AAAAAAAADkI/KDTS0F85Mtw/s1600/75070_10102757856360648_865606946_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Se7h23TY2r8/Uvg4IJgUfcI/AAAAAAAADkI/KDTS0F85Mtw/s1600/75070_10102757856360648_865606946_n.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Seahawks played the Broncos, so I ordered a tiny horse off of Amazon. Technically, I ordered a 12-pack of farm animals. Do you need a chicken-themed cake? I might be able to accommodate. </div>
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I marked up the logo to measure proportions:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KXS736JvTuE/Uvg3eAouWEI/AAAAAAAADj4/bjWswmzeW8o/s1600/Seattle_Seahawks_2012b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KXS736JvTuE/Uvg3eAouWEI/AAAAAAAADj4/bjWswmzeW8o/s1600/Seattle_Seahawks_2012b.jpg" height="147" width="320" /></a></div>
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And then totally threw that out the window, and freehanded the outline on a 13x9 cake that had been frozen for about 30 hours. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">My favorite high-altitude cake, the Santa Fe Spice Cake from the cookbook Pie in the Sky.</span></td></tr>
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The scariest part was the carving:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sWxZjgY9sgA/UvMfsKBtqeI/AAAAAAAADiE/W3eVCpa4EcQ/s1600/IMG_20140202_122840_513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sWxZjgY9sgA/UvMfsKBtqeI/AAAAAAAADiE/W3eVCpa4EcQ/s1600/IMG_20140202_122840_513.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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But it worked! I frosted it with cream cheese base layer.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HkkiDSfoQVw/UvMfzxHiz6I/AAAAAAAADkk/wHPaFS_-7M8/s1600/IMG_20140202_133737_342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HkkiDSfoQVw/UvMfzxHiz6I/AAAAAAAADkk/wHPaFS_-7M8/s1600/IMG_20140202_133737_342.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Getting that almost-Seahawks blue was really difficult: I used a TON of the regular blue, a touch of black, and a dash of neon blue. The silver just needed a bit of black, and the neon green was perfect by itself! I piped on all of the blue outlines and piped in some blue filler. I used a spreading tool to moosh it smoothly to fill the edges. Then, I piped and spread the white, the silver, and the green eye. The finishing touch: that tiny bronco in the hawk's beak.</div>
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The cake was a hit at the Super Bowl party, where we had the normal spread of amazing football food, plus a super cute puppy.</div>
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The game itself was fantastic. I know it was boring or devastating for everyone else, but for Seattle and its fans, it was incredible. GO HAWKS!!!!!</div>
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-32261981394175203512013-12-11T01:30:00.000-05:002013-12-11T12:29:18.001-05:00Tucson Marathon, 12-8-2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On a chilly morning that eased into a warm afternoon, I ran through beautiful Arizona landscape and completed my fourth full marathon. The <a href="http://www.tucsonmarathon.com/">Tucson Marathon</a> was a small race with just under a thousand runners in the full. Point-to-point downhill with some rolling hills (and one aggravating monster at mile 23), and starting 2000' below my normal elevation, it had the potential to be very fast. My training this round has been only okay, however, with excuses of the "I've been stressed and emotionally drained" or "I want to do all the things, like hiking-lifting-MMAing-dancingbriefly, so I don't rest much" or "of course I need a trip to Jamaica [and I do actually intend to blog about it, you people who know who you are] with my girls, where I will exercise by floating in the Caribbean" variety, so </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">I didn't really have a time goal. Spoiler alert: the PR is still 5:01:50, from <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2010/12/seattle-marathon-november-28-2010.html" target="_blank">Seattle</a></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. Despite a promise from my boss </span>that he'd buy me coffee if I broke 5:00:00, I set <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">my goal simply to not start off too fast (I've been burned) and to run consistently and strongly the entire course. SUCCESS.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">Bethany and I met in Phoenix on Friday, where we spent a fantastic evening with Mandy, Bob, Sarah, and the puppy girl Stella. Bob cooked spaghetti for the weary travelers, and I was excused from a very late night of revelry and got a good night's sleep. After a lazy morning, Beth and I drove off to Tucson. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">The expo was held at the Hotel El Conquistador, which was gorgeous. It was the smallest of the marathon expos I've attended, consistent with the race itself. The layout was cramped and confusing, but I did emerge with a great new shirt and my bib! </span><span style="color: #222222;">While white's not my best color, I'm using short sleeved shirts more these days--I typically run in either tanks or long sleeves, but for my new martial art and gym habits, I prefer a bit more moderate coverage.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">We took our stash of Cliff bar samples off to our hotel, the Catalina Inn. Don't let the very drab exterior scare you--it was quite clean and comfortable inside, for the money I paid. They were extremely accommodating to the racers: breakfast started at 4am and a shuttle took us directly to the start line!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bethany was exhausted from her previous night of partying and I was looking at a 4:15am wakeup call, so we decided to head to the nearby Olive Garden and then call it a night. W</span>e waited in the crowded lobby for 45 minutes in a hungry stupor. Apparently, Olive Garden is THE place to be on a Saturday night in Catalina, AZ. A couple struck up a conversation with us--after I told them I lived "near Santa Fe," the husband asked if that was close to Los Alamos. "…well, actually, I live THERE…"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">We eventually </span></span><span style="color: #222222;">carbo loaded successfully and returned to the hotel, where I performed my race-eve ritual of dressing the imaginary person:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">CANNOT. FORGET. THINGS.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">My alarm rudely woke me from a dream (in which Katie, Auna, and I stole pizza, got arrested, and rode off on motorcycles) to something even more strange. The lights turned on as soon as I stopped the clock and an extremely chipper Bethany said, "IT IS YOUR MARATHON DAY! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO WAKE UP FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES!!!!" We both got breakfast, and she went back to bed, while I shuttled off to the start line!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">It was freezing, with wind chill, up over 4750' on Mt. Lemmon. We were able to sit in the warm buses for 20-30 minutes, which was lovely. Finally, the portapotties called, and we shivered en masse for another half an hour. I wore my beloved UW sweatshirt, purchased freshman year, 2002. Mom said I could part with it. May it rest in peace or bless someone who needs it more--I ditched it when we were told to line up. (Volunteers collected the piles of discarded clothing and donated them.) </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;">The race MCs played a terrible recording of the Star Spangled Banner, and then with the dulcet tones of Run, Run, Rudolph, just after the sun peeked over the hills, we were off! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;">The course was </span><span style="color: #222222;">winding and </span><span style="color: #222222;">fairly steep downhill for a couple of miles, and the flattened into a gradual downhill for *most* of the rest. Soon after the start, a good-looking guy struck up a conversation, asking how many I've done (this was his first) and whether I had any goals (his was to finish). He ran off ahead, but I'd run into him much more later in the race.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I felt so strong! There was so much oxygen, and we were going downhill! I stuck to my plan, </span>though, and reined in my pace. I walked the few legitimately steep inclines, but breezed up the more gradual rolling hills that were on the four-mile roundtrip out-and-back portion off the main highway upon which we ran for about half of the race. Normally out-and-backs kill me mentally (SO FRUSTRATING), but this was fine! It was pretty! The volunteers and spectators on that stretch were especially welcome, as that main highway part was almost completely devoid of them. I also used the turn around to verify that there were plenty of people behind me. Heh heh heh. Sweet.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Around mile 15, I warmed up enough to remove my long-sleeve shirt. So many runners ran the entire thing bundled up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Dear Arizonans, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">50-60F is NOT run-in-sweatshirt-and-gloves-and-hats weather. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">Love, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">the Girl from WA/NJ/NM </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;">At mile 17, I had my first moment of despair. You know, where you wonder why you would ever choose to run this far, or really, why anyone would EVER run at ALL. That was a hard mile. I took a couple of walking breaks, switched my music up, and shook it off by 18. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;">This race, I fueled with alternating Espresso Love Gu and Honey Stinger packets. I ran with my own water, but drank a swallow or two of Gatorade at aid stations. They handed out Cliff Shots, and I tried one…but it was just weird enough to make me stick with my regular fuel. I had six gel packets total, approximately one every four miles, starting at mile 1.1. Somewhere in the low 20s, a station passed out M&Ms! The first few were delicious, and then I almost choked on one. No more M&Ms while running. A motherly volunteer at another late stop forced a couple of goldfish crackers on me, as I apparently looked like I needed salt. Again, I choked. I am not allowed to eat solid food while running, okay?</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">So, my friend! I passed him around mile 20, and we exchanged "WE GOT THIS" encouragements. I was running pretty consistently at this point, so I'd pass him during his walk breaks, and he'd pass me when he ran. He fist bumped or yelled encouragement every time. It's amazing how much that helps. This happened (as it always does) with another couple of people. One woman found me after and we congratulated each other. Runners (in my pace group anyway) are so *NICE*. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;">I was impressed with the sheriff/deputy presence--many, many were out, blocking and directing traffic for us. I did almost get hit once, and that was pretty uncool, but for the most part, they managed to keep roads half open and runners fully alive. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">I really started losing it physically around 22, and at 23, I was pretty convinced that the race was never going to end. Ever. That mean monster of a hill didn't help, nor did the steep descent that followed. My knee had been hurting for the past two days and the entirety of the race (ssshhh I'm fine; I shouldn't confess these things on the internet), so the downhill made me very nervous. I survived, and I had less than a 5k left. When was the last time I couldn't finish a 5k? I got this!!</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #222222;">I started counting the evenly spaced orange cones of protection: run past three or more, take a walking break, but only until the very next cone, then run again. That worked.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I continued my tradition of crying during half and full marathons near the end. I apparently cannot fight the combination of exhaustion, pain, anticipation, and excitement of being ALMOST DONE! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Mile 26! Only 0.2 miles to go!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Mile 13, for the lucky halfers! ONLY 0.1 MILES TO GO SPRRRRIIIIINT! YEEEAAAAH!!!</div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I finished strong with barely anything left in the tank, so was ecstatic. My time was 5:29:38, and I finished without injury.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bethany's beautiful face met me after I got my medal and water. She led me slowly back to our car, where she had a caramel </span>brûlée<span style="font-family: inherit;"> latte and Subway sandwich waiting for me. SO GOOD.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbnweyfNYQs/UqgBetR6K1I/AAAAAAAADQ0/IgwGUDhaECA/s1600/1040656_10102614240512958_822045764_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AbnweyfNYQs/UqgBetR6K1I/AAAAAAAADQ0/IgwGUDhaECA/s320/1040656_10102614240512958_822045764_o.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">She drove back to Phoenix, where we were fed fried chicken, fried risotto balls, and macaroni and cheese, and watched the Seahawks barely lose to the Niners. It was an excellent afternoon.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CHzdBo--C90/UqgAl6OTEII/AAAAAAAADP0/AE5oS-56C3s/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CHzdBo--C90/UqgAl6OTEII/AAAAAAAADP0/AE5oS-56C3s/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Now, it's kind of hard to walk, due to good soreness. I'm resting up and planning my next moves. </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">I'm going to take a couple of years off of full marathons now, to work on my strength for and with MMA and my speed with 10ks and </span><span style="color: #222222;">halfs. I also want to do more of our awesome local trail races, and become a decent skier of bumps. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">I'll get back to fulls when I have a good shot at that sub-5:00:00 time. Did I say that before? I mean it this time!!</span></span></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-27768616123124903592013-04-05T23:55:00.000-04:002013-04-05T23:55:00.304-04:00A new passion for the slopesSkiing became a passion on par with running this winter. If only because it was so new, it may have even surpassed it. I feel so strongly (so many warm and fuzzies) that I'm going to just write a bit about each day I skied...scroll through and just see the pictures if you get bored. :)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EOahMp1T7yo/UV-Skbf5KkI/AAAAAAAABgQ/Q5efvAZNPf8/s1600/2012-10-21+00.11.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EOahMp1T7yo/UV-Skbf5KkI/AAAAAAAABgQ/Q5efvAZNPf8/s320/2012-10-21+00.11.24.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bought my own skis!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRG5cVaKPn26nGfGU79EdnzhOwVHCdaiI0-xFjaUT5GIAhSdWWv25udeOlNzAL3oJ5pD2dkQSN3imWmuGmS-nkXCfN1ckAB0PDF5PV7iBWKlL6hH1S81tlqJL2qWmcYZi9M2ugwdpyWM/s1600/2013-01-05+11.39.56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRG5cVaKPn26nGfGU79EdnzhOwVHCdaiI0-xFjaUT5GIAhSdWWv25udeOlNzAL3oJ5pD2dkQSN3imWmuGmS-nkXCfN1ckAB0PDF5PV7iBWKlL6hH1S81tlqJL2qWmcYZi9M2ugwdpyWM/s320/2013-01-05+11.39.56.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a helmet to protect my expensive brain!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~ </div>
<br />
Laying out gear the night before my first ski day in about seven years was nerve wracking. The forecast said Pajarito Mountain would be in the teens, but I remembered getting really hot while skiing. So naturally, I packed enough clothes for three people to wear. I had my shiny new skis and boots, but the bindings weren't adjusted. I hoped the rental shop could fix them for me. Early the next day, Jenn, Kris, and I nervously drove the fifteen minutes up to the ski area, bought lift tickets, found out that the rental shop would not fix my bindings, rented skis instead, left our extra fifty changes of clothes in the lodge, squished our poor feet into what would be their prisons for the next several hours, and shakily headed out on our first run.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePhW5nTaiFc/UV-PhXNXppI/AAAAAAAABeo/gwN-ZvGCfng/s1600/2013-01-05+11.40.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePhW5nTaiFc/UV-PhXNXppI/AAAAAAAABeo/gwN-ZvGCfng/s320/2013-01-05+11.40.04.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The bunny hill looked steep from the base. That was not a good sign. My
breath caught and my heart fluttered in my chest as I wondered, with a
little bit of real terror, if I could get on and off the lift without
falling. I passed that first obstacle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw66liEkFXB6A8_tlhaTzlB-fAyweLundN0XTJGHHc9WM78Otuz7HjsXDn05MGjEzHzDE6KoUMNHQIcdeGk6xV1bJ-YVTgiZpgn5yMyC-VRwhyFXPCXV-VeaOnbwjnTbnXxq-cp8ALXk/s1600/2013-01-05+11.40.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw66liEkFXB6A8_tlhaTzlB-fAyweLundN0XTJGHHc9WM78Otuz7HjsXDn05MGjEzHzDE6KoUMNHQIcdeGk6xV1bJ-YVTgiZpgn5yMyC-VRwhyFXPCXV-VeaOnbwjnTbnXxq-cp8ALXk/s320/2013-01-05+11.40.24.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then, I stared with a tad more apprehension down from the top of the steepest "beginner" hill I've seen. Kris took off; Jenn and I found a flatter route down around the corner. Second obstacle: conquered. Barely.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtc_aJxI_haczLj6bE-CkHtP_MMwS_FVfvwc5AqwwczIGeW9vAyXGL_8rMKRdDApOAvbbDiUf7ghjeybovalcvMf3fsy72Tl3i8irUCSSimyfcV5Ce9VcUTM3cANsLLnjC6XoJkUPpyOQ/s1600/2013-01-05+11.43.44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtc_aJxI_haczLj6bE-CkHtP_MMwS_FVfvwc5AqwwczIGeW9vAyXGL_8rMKRdDApOAvbbDiUf7ghjeybovalcvMf3fsy72Tl3i8irUCSSimyfcV5Ce9VcUTM3cANsLLnjC6XoJkUPpyOQ/s320/2013-01-05+11.43.44.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
We stayed on that hill until after lunch, when we tried another of Pajarito's green (aka easy) runs. This required skiing from the bunny hill over to a big chair lift (which I survived), then skiing across the mostly-flat tops of several blue and black diamond runs (which nearly gave me vertigo) all the way to the right side of the mountain. The views from here were incredible--we could see down to town and across to the Sangre de Cristo mountains, and into the Valles Grande Caldera on the back side.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJklgkezqhU9iuHiEgdjfASprtAlbpphe48jOUBmMxLuJoNfztzX5g18Ct_KU2Q17IbdBmf39lDsXwmywgRRbdeOFIPVDrL1QE2A_ka3CQWwKpc138R7CmuHoioCc2ZsruNe_xCmtTH8/s1600/540921_10101571350373152_1885376087_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJklgkezqhU9iuHiEgdjfASprtAlbpphe48jOUBmMxLuJoNfztzX5g18Ct_KU2Q17IbdBmf39lDsXwmywgRRbdeOFIPVDrL1QE2A_ka3CQWwKpc138R7CmuHoioCc2ZsruNe_xCmtTH8/s320/540921_10101571350373152_1885376087_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jenn! (Stolen from Kris)</td></tr>
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Sadly, this "green" run was steeper than anything I had ever skied, and was not what I should be on my first time off the bunny hill in seven years. Kris and Jenn headed down with different degrees of confidence, and I figured that the only way I could get home was by following. I survived a turn or two, before I skied over a large rock (did I mention the low base of 20''?) and fell hard. There went the last shred of confidence and excitement I had. My only goal was to get back to the lodge. Alive. I sent my friends off to enjoy themselves. Several more falls and an interminable amount of time landed me at the bunny hill. I did a few more shaky runs before my quads and spirit were completely shot and broken. Not the most illustrious start to the season.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivykm6xsyMNN0nfStA49ASh8ycMuxQWl2hoFY61bhEPihzVYyYNALAHZBUiZ2lCzwjvjmF2SYt7V0i-zvhOPlWOo8GWC4DvHGPzNvtUfkyt6dmkbKNcL3tzymelILKjAA7wHtttk12w0/s1600/2013-01-05+13.38.00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiivykm6xsyMNN0nfStA49ASh8ycMuxQWl2hoFY61bhEPihzVYyYNALAHZBUiZ2lCzwjvjmF2SYt7V0i-zvhOPlWOo8GWC4DvHGPzNvtUfkyt6dmkbKNcL3tzymelILKjAA7wHtttk12w0/s320/2013-01-05+13.38.00.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~</div>
The three of us decided to try a ski area that had legitimate green runs. Of the myriad available in our great northern New Mexico, we settled on Taos, as much for name-recognition as anything. Could it live up to its reputation?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtrDG8ZYBxQUXh7q0FmgGXWm5DLxuLYio81tO7wA5Xu7kDNkr4XkrKOPA3dYSTPtxpa9pOx1A2P6oZhrg2dJeJzEwT9A01mXWTcvW8vGlYeU11iddpmyY9u3DdJdEKoKINi-GqzJykwo/s1600/2013-01-21+08.57.54.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtrDG8ZYBxQUXh7q0FmgGXWm5DLxuLYio81tO7wA5Xu7kDNkr4XkrKOPA3dYSTPtxpa9pOx1A2P6oZhrg2dJeJzEwT9A01mXWTcvW8vGlYeU11iddpmyY9u3DdJdEKoKINi-GqzJykwo/s320/2013-01-21+08.57.54.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rio Grande gorge on the way to Taos Ski Valley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Turns out, it very much did. The quaint ski village was welcoming and comfortable. The lifts were new and fast. The views of the craggy peaks with their high tree lines were beautiful. And the green runs? Ooooh the green runs, they were so manageable! I was still slow, I still tired early, but I enjoyed myself. These were the right challenge for me.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TT0RgVpr3ZM/UV-SZdqxsvI/AAAAAAAABgI/wwjPmLT_fEM/s1600/2013-01-21+15.41.32.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TT0RgVpr3ZM/UV-SZdqxsvI/AAAAAAAABgI/wwjPmLT_fEM/s320/2013-01-21+15.41.32.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DON'T PANIC</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgMqF5lt_Q/UV-R1eve6eI/AAAAAAAABfo/FvnWn27ndRU/s1600/2013-01-21+11.41.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgMqF5lt_Q/UV-R1eve6eI/AAAAAAAABfo/FvnWn27ndRU/s320/2013-01-21+11.41.48.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kris!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCm1h-7LzzI/UV-SA1Az6pI/AAAAAAAABf4/df7Y7eWMG4A/s1600/2013-01-21+14.35.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCm1h-7LzzI/UV-SA1Az6pI/AAAAAAAABf4/df7Y7eWMG4A/s320/2013-01-21+14.35.10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Explosives!</td></tr>
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<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Auna told Jenn and me about the K2 Women's Weekend, a ski event held at Pajarito one day and Taos the next. We were in wholeheartedly. It kicked off at Fuller Lodge with a silent auction to raise money for the Anita Salas Memorial Fund and talks from families of cancer victims and survivors. I won a private ski lesson with a Taos instructor for about 1/3 of the regular cost! The next day, we ate breakfast burritos at Pajarito and were broken into groups based on ski ability. Jenn and I were both in the green group. The leaders were fantastic and gave us excellent advice. I still tired early--and left early, knowing we were heading to Taos the next day--but I was improving. I at least made it safely down several Pajarito greens and even a blue run (which was easier than the greens...because why not). While mortified (we had to wear bras over our skis coats--breast cancer awareness and all?), our green group even completed the "Sloppy Slalom" without breaking bones in the almost white-out conditions.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />Taos experienced the same blizzard, which meant we had amazing powder the next day. It was phenomenal. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZR_5Kr1D6yw/UV-UmydZMMI/AAAAAAAABgs/55QBw7j_Dok/s1600/2013-02-10+11.40.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZR_5Kr1D6yw/UV-UmydZMMI/AAAAAAAABgs/55QBw7j_Dok/s320/2013-02-10+11.40.04.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
We skied a bit with the leaders again, but then they went off to play. I
stuck to greens and worked on not squatting so much (this is why my
quads were giving out so early--I was doing "a month's worth of
wall-sits in a day" according to one instructor). When I was tired, I
sat in a mid-mountain chalet and had red chile hot chocolate for half an
hour. Then I kept going until the lifts closed. It was brilliant. I was
most definitely hooked.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-58GJ0N59ZKg/UV-UoYVPE7I/AAAAAAAABg0/B5fgss-xKgE/s1600/2013-02-10+14.33.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-58GJ0N59ZKg/UV-UoYVPE7I/AAAAAAAABg0/B5fgss-xKgE/s320/2013-02-10+14.33.38.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Balaclavas are LIFESAVERS.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I scheduled my private ski lesson, and drove the beautiful two hours out to Taos alone. While a bit lonely, it was also incredibly peaceful--both the drive through the desert and up the mountain, and navigating the slopes without speaking to anyone. I spent the morning warming up, and quit to eat and read in the lodge with enough rest time to be fresh for my lesson. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jRVOCLQai5U/UV-U9VRMPPI/AAAAAAAABhA/AftJTl59YlE/s1600/2013-02-18+11.23.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jRVOCLQai5U/UV-U9VRMPPI/AAAAAAAABhA/AftJTl59YlE/s320/2013-02-18+11.23.14.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Literally no place I'd rather be.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BeARZ8SxGiU/UV-U9ToTk2I/AAAAAAAABhE/oTa7Nfsxf0U/s1600/2013-02-18+11.23.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BeARZ8SxGiU/UV-U9ToTk2I/AAAAAAAABhE/oTa7Nfsxf0U/s320/2013-02-18+11.23.24.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's my run.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Leslie is a professor emeritus of English literature who retired to be a ski bum, and she completely rocks. She was interesting to talk to on the lifts, perceptive when it came to my core skiing issues, and creative in her suggestions and solutions. I can't stress enough how valuable that private lesson was and I highly recommend taking one. I had more red chile hot chocolate at the crepes place by the Whistlestop Cafe, because I love it.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
The long and late drive home is when I missed my buddies the most.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~</div>
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It was getting easier, this setting out of clothes and gear. Packing the car. Driving across the river gorge and up the mountain. Finding a locker. Stuffing each foot into its unyielding boot. Clomping out to the snow. Dropping skis to the earth. Awkwardly trying to snap boot to binding. Feeling secure and ready. Sliding over to the chair lift. Catching breath a bit--still wondering if you're about to fall. Sitting down successfully. Being whisked up the hill. Absorbing the cool, crisp, fresh air and bright, clean, wild views.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIV3FONGI1px4ku1pyHzsXHQ-whE-eNiG44OCegQQoTALM8y5zKMXSOs5Sg0QKWeGm1k9quu7JyvlZllRzWQiM4QADlAX9r4m_utsIlTZE7b9Qh2C9oUBy95SztNTh-oITkizO4sSmffc/s1600/2013-03-15+11.07.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIV3FONGI1px4ku1pyHzsXHQ-whE-eNiG44OCegQQoTALM8y5zKMXSOs5Sg0QKWeGm1k9quu7JyvlZllRzWQiM4QADlAX9r4m_utsIlTZE7b9Qh2C9oUBy95SztNTh-oITkizO4sSmffc/s320/2013-03-15+11.07.58.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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This was the life, man. We were in Taos again, for a beautiful spring skiing day with a base of 60'' and high of 60F. I felt another twinge in my chest--would I fall at the top? The chair approached the "unload here" sign, I touched skis to snow, and glided down safely. We paused to confirm our next route, and away we went. A bit clumsily and a tad nervously, we freely crisscrossed the glistening hill. So thrilled to be near the green trees, under the blue sky, and flying through the white snow. Zip, zip, zip.<br />
<br />
Now, sometimes, I feel totally in control and completely graceful. I eat up greens and manage the blues. Even when my quads start screaming, I'm happy.<br />
<br />
We stopped for lunch at the Phoenix grill and devoured mediocre yet absolutely perfect green chile cheeseburgers, and returned to the slopes with a vengeance.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4HEMMESRzk/UV-R5eHwf0I/AAAAAAAABfw/Kr9lZTTQ82A/s1600/2013-01-21+12.47.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4HEMMESRzk/UV-R5eHwf0I/AAAAAAAABfw/Kr9lZTTQ82A/s320/2013-01-21+12.47.38.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So high right now at the Phoenix Grill.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My peaceful demeanor was shaken and my heart dropped when Jenn and I accidentally arrived at a fork in the road: a blue with moguls, or a black diamond through the trees. There was no choice, really. We took the bumps. Very slowly. Without much (any?) grace. But we completed them IN ONE PIECE.<br />
<br />
Jenn and Kris' mountain-guide friend later taught us some tricks to manage bumps, so we actually chose to do two mogul runs for practice. We may not really like them, but we can handle them if necessary!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~</div>
Jenn, Kris, and I ended our fantastic ski season together (along with our friend, Bill) with one last trip to our dear Taos Ski Valley. In the morning, we couldn't believe how much we had all improved, as we flew down blues with skis more parallel than ever before! I actually kept up--a far cry from our first trip to Pajarito this season. I did two bumps runs, and even made a string of three moguls look pretty darn good. (Don't worry--I fell on the next try.)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eUWre1daZ4aDYt-qGnAoXD1utOcY1Wc2GXqjHqsPtIGr2siJ7HUQ6Lsm3iqS6Hqo1YwF9QmjTTV1Kzlf3MWaP8B8r5wHtIyRsBpPMspOeMzmEOHW0qpU7r0GXoWH-eF5Sh3ZZBq37nE/s1600/IMG_20130330_105319_290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eUWre1daZ4aDYt-qGnAoXD1utOcY1Wc2GXqjHqsPtIGr2siJ7HUQ6Lsm3iqS6Hqo1YwF9QmjTTV1Kzlf3MWaP8B8r5wHtIyRsBpPMspOeMzmEOHW0qpU7r0GXoWH-eF5Sh3ZZBq37nE/s320/IMG_20130330_105319_290.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kris--not the slowest in the group.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qYoONlLSAmc/UV-W1hUJwKI/AAAAAAAABhw/-2oLpRp-y0I/s1600/IMG_20130330_105303_283.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qYoONlLSAmc/UV-W1hUJwKI/AAAAAAAABhw/-2oLpRp-y0I/s320/IMG_20130330_105303_283.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bill--enjoying the mountains.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Se8HmgmZLg/UV-W2rWpdZI/AAAAAAAABh4/p7stXAnH3o8/s1600/IMG_20130330_114603_432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Se8HmgmZLg/UV-W2rWpdZI/AAAAAAAABh4/p7stXAnH3o8/s320/IMG_20130330_114603_432.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica and Jenn--reveling in our new-found skills.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After green chile cheeseburgers and Christmas chile fries, the sun turned snow into heavy, slippery slush. I fell back on my squatting, wall-sitting ways in a desperate attempt to maintain control. A pause for hot chocolate and crepes was necessary. I became much slower and made my friends wait for much longer at the bottom of each run, but I stuck it out until the lifts closed.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aknsmb2TX00/UV-W8ABVO9I/AAAAAAAABiM/mZkozFXX2qc/s1600/IMG_20130330_145630_184-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aknsmb2TX00/UV-W8ABVO9I/AAAAAAAABiM/mZkozFXX2qc/s320/IMG_20130330_145630_184-1.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm only here for the food.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wsx_S-znvkU/UV-SSWUo47I/AAAAAAAABgA/t6ymqa0qg8E/s1600/2013-01-21+15.38.06.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wsx_S-znvkU/UV-SSWUo47I/AAAAAAAABgA/t6ymqa0qg8E/s320/2013-01-21+15.38.06.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay! The lodge!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />During any ski day, the final run is a bittersweet relief, but more so this trip. Removing the shoes of torture was a beautiful release. We got mochas one last time at our favorite mountain chocolate shop. Balancing skis, poles, duffel bags, and espresso, we lugged ourselves onto the shuttle, yelled "WHOOOA" when it neared the car (the system works), and tiredly repacked the trunk. The drive home in the starlight, through the wide-open desert vistas of New Mexico, mountains at each horizon, was calming. We looked for cow-crossing signs with UFO stickers, remarked how yet again we forgot swimsuits for the hot springs, and listened to my admittedly hit-and-miss playlist. Driving through the jarringly-bright lights of Española always feels a bit offensive after the long trip through the middle of beautiful desert nothing, but I always inwardly sigh in relief soon after when we hit The Hill--it means we're almost home. <br />
<br />
A hot bubble bath is a terrific treat, and then a soft bed is the best reward for all the hard, exhilarating work you put in having a blast up in nature. Sleep soundly, skiers, and dream of just how amazing next season is going to be! physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-31931507442923454982013-03-17T22:16:00.001-04:002013-03-18T10:57:45.080-04:00Faraday's Fourth<div style="text-align: center;">
Happy <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourth_Doctor" target="_blank">4th</a> Birthday, Faraday cat! </div>
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Muffin had a pretty exciting birthday party last night...or that was my St. Patrick's Day party. Either way, he enjoyed hanging out in the circle of people, watching and listening to our silliness. He even got to see the great outdoors for a heart-stopping sixty seconds, as he slipped past a departing guest and down the porch. The big world is cold and scary, though, so he allowed himself to be caught and taken back to the warmth of his indoor domain.<br />
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He sniffed, but did not eat, a multitude of green foods: <br />
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He also patiently wore a tiny green hat for a minute or two, to the delight of our guests.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaKV_uvWhVI342GtYYdV1RimT_-L6j2pQqNVFP9hGPguoFMYPRWd8hCqq087YiH7zklVNHvUHJSdfepz4wd4EaSjCEil6OgCpMb4LHkfgeKgT3BS0BsW7Y7atqW_O7z3x6UpSBCqKUpU/s1600/catinhat_03-16-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaKV_uvWhVI342GtYYdV1RimT_-L6j2pQqNVFP9hGPguoFMYPRWd8hCqq087YiH7zklVNHvUHJSdfepz4wd4EaSjCEil6OgCpMb4LHkfgeKgT3BS0BsW7Y7atqW_O7z3x6UpSBCqKUpU/s320/catinhat_03-16-13.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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(He wore this hat for his <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10101038374491098&set=pb.10705841.-2207520000.1363572537&type=3&theater" target="_blank">third birthday.</a> For his <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2011/03/happy-birthday-faraday-and-welcome.html" target="_blank">second</a>, he got to wear a bow.)<br />
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Today, both of us recovered from having so many people over so late. He chose to dedicate his daylight hours to sleeping. I chose to walk seven miles, and revel in New Mexico's beautiful weather. Happy Spring, Friends, and I love you, silly cat!<br />
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-8249674554205248452013-03-08T23:09:00.000-05:002013-03-08T23:09:00.789-05:00A Wedding of Geeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v9vvtI3A-vA/USuSeYXssBI/AAAAAAAABck/VH8Y0ie-yB4/s1600/2013-02-24_17-05-52_779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v9vvtI3A-vA/USuSeYXssBI/AAAAAAAABck/VH8Y0ie-yB4/s320/2013-02-24_17-05-52_779.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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On the weekend of February 24, 2013, I flew to Philadelphia to celebrate the marriage of Erica and Dan. I met <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2010/12/backen-auf-deutsch-part-vi-58-ingwer.html" target="_blank">Erica</a> in 2008, at the Lindau Meeting of Nobel Laureates and graduate students in physics in Lindau, Germany. We were thrilled to discover that we lived a mere hour or two from each other, and have spent the last four and a half years knitting together when we could, and talking online almost every day about physics, Doctor Who, Star Trek, travel, being women in science...and knitting, of course. So when I moved to New Mexico, we just kept on with the friendship as nothing much changed. She's about to move to Canada, meaning I have another fun place to visit!</div>
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Dan is perfect for her. He is smart, loves the Doctor, and makes a mean cocktail. I assumed this wedding would have delicious drinks. I was not wrong.</div>
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So, I flew in Friday and took a train to Center City, where I met the girls at our swanky hotel for the Bachelorette Party. The details will remain hidden, but we danced until 2am and then had hashbrowns and eggs until 4am. Erica had a blast (as did we all). </div>
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After a few hours' sleep, another accidental nap, and a frantic ten-minute shower-and-pack-up session, I met Kelsey for a day of eating our way around town. She found an amazing brunch place, <a href="http://thedandelionpub.com/" target="_blank">The Dandelion Pub</a>, with the best scones I've ever had. We bought delicious-smelling things at Lush, had cappuccinos at La Colombe, and a cocktail at The Farmer's Cabinet. After dinner in Newtown, PA, with Lee, we attended a party at 12PL in Princeton, NJ, home of a bunch of Princeton plasma grads. It was almost like old times.</div>
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The next morning, after saying goodbye to Kelsey's kitties, I had brunch at <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2011/06/baby-shower.html" target="_blank">Craig, Melissa, and Erik's!</a> Erik is going to be TWO YEARS OLD in July. He is walking so well and talking up a storm. He gave me the best tour of an apartment I've ever gotten. We saw the table, the chairs, the toys, the dog, and countless other items. He's a complete joy to be around. (Says the person who doesn't live with his almost two-year-old self.) Melissa made scrumptious stuffed French toast, and then Craig drove me to the train station, and then I said goodbye to Princeton. It was a beautiful fifteen hours in a place that still feels an awful lot like home.</div>
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I merrily read my way all the way into Philly, made my connection, and happily read almost all the way to Media. I could have sworn I was supposed to get off in Media, but at an earlier stop, the conductors yelled, "IS THERE A JESSICA HERE????" </div>
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<br />"Ummm, yes?" I said.</div>
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"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET OFF HERE."</div>
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"I really don't think I am..."</div>
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"I THINK YOU ARE. THERE'S A WOMAN HERE FOR YOU."</div>
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I skeptically dragged my things to the door. Sure enough, Marianne was waving at me with a big smile. </div>
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"GET OFF HERE!!!"</div>
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Okay then! We drove to her beautiful house where a gorgeous bride was enjoying strawberries and champagne while waiting for the gals and photographer to arrive. We giggled, we reminisced, we primped, we ironed, we posed. We packed...and we drove to the ceremony!</div>
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Dan and Erica had a sweet, quirky, intimate wedding with only about forty people. I felt so privileged to be there. I met family members, physics classmates, psychology classmates, restaurant business friends. Their vows were touching and included scifi jokes. They looked fabulous together, as always. We all signed their marriage certificate as witnesses. People toasted, with more scifi references. The dinner was amazing (I had the pasta), and I had a terrific time chatting up several of their friends. They know very interesting and diverse people. After the main event, we retired to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Diegos-Cantina-And-Tequila-Bar/276637179026484" target="_blank">Diego's</a>, the tequila bar Dan manages. The staff decorated it like a speakeasy with Doctor Who influences. The place was packed with more friends of the happy couple. It was terrific. Marianne, her husband, Jeff, and I were exhausted by 11pm, however, and we retired to their house, where we caught about fifteen minutes of the Oscars before succumbing to the very long weekend. </div>
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Jeff was kind enough to give me La Colombe French press in the morning before he drove me to the airport. Bless him. The trip home was not the best I've had, but I'll leave you with the high point: knitting in a sunny spot in the Philadelphia airport for two hours while drinking my first latte of the day. It was the perfect way to unwind from an exciting weekend, jam-packed with amazing people and food. Thank you, Erica and Dan, for getting married, and for inviting me to the party! Love you!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKEJNOoVjNIIgSb26NmxazLTDTOyooRF_IUhvQkyds001wtaVmzO-Sv_lN7BOQqKUqnCnKqJ6S8PXnBTW7rgNwuSnnOmxxPt3Y_BX_QJ-MZeWCn6aLjwevLydZMotvDq-S_u_3PqgTqu0/s1600/2013-02-25_11-01-51_912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKEJNOoVjNIIgSb26NmxazLTDTOyooRF_IUhvQkyds001wtaVmzO-Sv_lN7BOQqKUqnCnKqJ6S8PXnBTW7rgNwuSnnOmxxPt3Y_BX_QJ-MZeWCn6aLjwevLydZMotvDq-S_u_3PqgTqu0/s320/2013-02-25_11-01-51_912.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-6201247544934663832012-12-22T16:04:00.000-05:002012-12-22T16:04:09.228-05:00A Terrible Christmas Poem, to serve as your card<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: grey;">A word of warning: I am a plasma physicist. Not a poet.</span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: grey;">Edited by my mother. The English teacher. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: grey;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: grey;"><i><span style="color: #274e13;"> It's the Time to Christmas</span></i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: grey;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </span></b></span></div>
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'Twas several weeks before Christmas, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">when all through the townhouse...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXyN6k_qzsd0OYOOIT6LklX0MXJa7LuYGTVjJvQoN24fhkqYo0tCfsQ4qv3-62kogkBc0Y4TrqlDs4V1A1S7e1rqiIj_1QXYbOxybBq1SNqWvF3cE_IbB5vCCFgcNmXr-2hTyzO3XSFM/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-42_165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXyN6k_qzsd0OYOOIT6LklX0MXJa7LuYGTVjJvQoN24fhkqYo0tCfsQ4qv3-62kogkBc0Y4TrqlDs4V1A1S7e1rqiIj_1QXYbOxybBq1SNqWvF3cE_IbB5vCCFgcNmXr-2hTyzO3XSFM/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-42_165.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living room</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oauVqcRLG2A/UNU2aGe542I/AAAAAAAABZo/u3ytFdSPWd4/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-01_292.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oauVqcRLG2A/UNU2aGe542I/AAAAAAAABZo/u3ytFdSPWd4/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-01_292.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dRUcnCTlX2A/UNU2ggiVkxI/AAAAAAAABZ4/YfivV364xVA/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-53_365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dRUcnCTlX2A/UNU2ggiVkxI/AAAAAAAABZ4/YfivV364xVA/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-53_365.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HXvcFPmhNsY/UNU2VI3hDqI/AAAAAAAABZg/N5ZhXu4orrY/s1600/2012-11-22_13-18-41_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HXvcFPmhNsY/UNU2VI3hDqI/AAAAAAAABZg/N5ZhXu4orrY/s1600/2012-11-22_13-18-41_2.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The extra table was for Thanksgiving.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Cq8OXi10RkhOD1i61iVtD2br06WH26OGhHF69wIH7eBHYBY62d9Z1n2tXJ0RZD0ray3CCUG6LpPPyWnd5oUItpotruLvtHvat06pJSGhKDBEFzDMOW191J6ZyQ8201fx79cvJ1-a3Uw/s1600/2012-11-22_13-21-18_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Cq8OXi10RkhOD1i61iVtD2br06WH26OGhHF69wIH7eBHYBY62d9Z1n2tXJ0RZD0ray3CCUG6LpPPyWnd5oUItpotruLvtHvat06pJSGhKDBEFzDMOW191J6ZyQ8201fx79cvJ1-a3Uw/s1600/2012-11-22_13-21-18_72.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hall of Morocco pictures</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not an ornament was hangin'</span><span style="font-size: large;">, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">nor from Muffin, a mouse.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAkOOhtY-tw/UNU2mwqjk7I/AAAAAAAABaI/FaitPm__6vI/s1600/2012-11-22_13-21-39_451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DAkOOhtY-tw/UNU2mwqjk7I/AAAAAAAABaI/FaitPm__6vI/s1600/2012-11-22_13-21-39_451.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guest/cat bedroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fFNwnW0H-MU/UNU2wSRYvLI/AAAAAAAABag/C2I0sMMOMbw/s1600/2012-11-22_13-40-16_117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fFNwnW0H-MU/UNU2wSRYvLI/AAAAAAAABag/C2I0sMMOMbw/s1600/2012-11-22_13-40-16_117.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bedroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpS3R54P15bmqmR0WskuL7gxc05vGT6tdvwSDo9VDnp3_EB0sWmQUlxHiZ5aYw4xsylx3GDbrNGot1aj8Ad5R8NvYqn-bZq8XJYe7lY7H6QivocyopF_uIzs6X-WAnu8aXbuB9GERWuq0/s1600/2012-11-22_15-06-57_140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpS3R54P15bmqmR0WskuL7gxc05vGT6tdvwSDo9VDnp3_EB0sWmQUlxHiZ5aYw4xsylx3GDbrNGot1aj8Ad5R8NvYqn-bZq8XJYe7lY7H6QivocyopF_uIzs6X-WAnu8aXbuB9GERWuq0/s1600/2012-11-22_15-06-57_140.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obviously...the bathroom.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsWolrMmHPaMOdnniviw_SiBT4UuZ4I1sTXXI4DWr2j3e6st9YU0SixU8VxJqddW-IcCYWmUeEdyAyZ0ya199IUzrpbUJ-uUabU3EbTc_VYz2j6TS8A26kn1XqkInbi6gbfnHjJxfpas/s1600/2012-11-22_15-06-41_726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsWolrMmHPaMOdnniviw_SiBT4UuZ4I1sTXXI4DWr2j3e6st9YU0SixU8VxJqddW-IcCYWmUeEdyAyZ0ya199IUzrpbUJ-uUabU3EbTc_VYz2j6TS8A26kn1XqkInbi6gbfnHjJxfpas/s1600/2012-11-22_15-06-41_726.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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Future tree was just chillin' </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">in its Caldera pen</span></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3uwzKt0GbmM/UMt_zXgaycI/AAAAAAAABNg/vx9RIg6D4Tc/s1600/2012-12-01_13-55-58_263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3uwzKt0GbmM/UMt_zXgaycI/AAAAAAAABNg/vx9RIg6D4Tc/s1600/2012-12-01_13-55-58_263.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valles Grande Caldera</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">I journey to get it,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"> and snatched it right then.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kHZQFJIjz9A/UMuADJI3cVI/AAAAAAAABN4/k7bf88VGWB0/s1600/2012-12-01_14-04-14_163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kHZQFJIjz9A/UMuADJI3cVI/AAAAAAAABN4/k7bf88VGWB0/s1600/2012-12-01_14-04-14_163.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: grey; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">I nestled my pretties </span></span><br />
<span style="color: grey; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">all snug in our tree </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: grey;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VvSwduGQFwU/UMuATGB2API/AAAAAAAABOI/DYtNHozRfRM/s1600/2012-12-04_20-51-23_647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VvSwduGQFwU/UMuATGB2API/AAAAAAAABOI/DYtNHozRfRM/s1600/2012-12-04_20-51-23_647.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">While Muffin snoozed on, glaring</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Don't 'cha try 'n wake me."</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DT2MIAqNY3M/UNU25pA7wHI/AAAAAAAABa8/KiB44fXQ_Hw/s1600/2012-12-07_14-42-56_939.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DT2MIAqNY3M/UNU25pA7wHI/AAAAAAAABa8/KiB44fXQ_Hw/s1600/2012-12-07_14-42-56_939.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Faraday the Magnificent</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Adding the Dalek (my mini-Who-tree)<br />And bordering-on-crazy-cat-lady-but-I-swear-I-didn’t-buy-the-new-one frame</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-umDIKs6rzQQ/UNU287AbfvI/AAAAAAAABbE/wbRS2W3RzwY/s1600/2012-12-14_09-03-48_639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-umDIKs6rzQQ/UNU287AbfvI/AAAAAAAABbE/wbRS2W3RzwY/s1600/2012-12-14_09-03-48_639.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ILLUMINAAATE!</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8SC9r9OnBfo/UNU5tDLIWsI/AAAAAAAABb0/SCoUA5GL3BE/s1600/2012-12-12_22-20-12_763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8SC9r9OnBfo/UNU5tDLIWsI/AAAAAAAABb0/SCoUA5GL3BE/s1600/2012-12-12_22-20-12_763.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I painted the one on the left...aunts gave me the one on the right</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I still have better taste than the neighbor we blame.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Jr0Dyco4Qw/UMuA8AgElFI/AAAAAAAABOw/7IutDapEzz4/s1600/2012-12-09_15-38-23_860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Jr0Dyco4Qw/UMuA8AgElFI/AAAAAAAABOw/7IutDapEzz4/s1600/2012-12-09_15-38-23_860.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously??</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When out in the town </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">there arose such events! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MF7lHdCRft8/UMuAzF6cYNI/AAAAAAAABOY/Q1rYi1K5CyU/s1600/2012-12-08_18-45-57_356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MF7lHdCRft8/UMuAzF6cYNI/AAAAAAAABOY/Q1rYi1K5CyU/s1600/2012-12-08_18-45-57_356.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Los Alamos Winter Parade</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A parade, twinkly lights, luminarias--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">we were pretty much spent!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F9neW03znks/UMuA4wLsiFI/AAAAAAAABOg/E1aZu45hgqo/s1600/2012-12-08_19-11-02_426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F9neW03znks/UMuA4wLsiFI/AAAAAAAABOg/E1aZu45hgqo/s1600/2012-12-08_19-11-02_426.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ashley (Pond) Pond</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mX9Tolcj9lQ/UMuA-f-LgNI/AAAAAAAABO4/RlLTGxTIVy8/s1600/2012-12-09_18-26-20_145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mX9Tolcj9lQ/UMuA-f-LgNI/AAAAAAAABO4/RlLTGxTIVy8/s1600/2012-12-09_18-26-20_145.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">North Mesa Stables Luminaria Walk</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Then along came some snowflakes </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to slow us all down</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AUjWPvqxBVU/UMuBumn8xII/AAAAAAAABPA/A-LyKtuNDoA/s1600/2012-12-14_11-08-39_969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AUjWPvqxBVU/UMuBumn8xII/AAAAAAAABPA/A-LyKtuNDoA/s1600/2012-12-14_11-08-39_969.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tzs4-cPNHaQ/UMuDWAMNEnI/AAAAAAAABPY/Mi5Vrk8dXyc/s1600/2012-12-14_11-10-41_380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tzs4-cPNHaQ/UMuDWAMNEnI/AAAAAAAABPY/Mi5Vrk8dXyc/s1600/2012-12-14_11-10-41_380.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Powdery hikes, fluffy trees</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">a welcome break from desert brown! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1r7wl4GwAI/UMuDXaAw3SI/AAAAAAAABPg/lDR7nA2TqJc/s1600/2012-12-14_11-25-08_980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1r7wl4GwAI/UMuDXaAw3SI/AAAAAAAABPg/lDR7nA2TqJc/s1600/2012-12-14_11-25-08_980.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--MSICPkgifQ/UMuD4uOTkgI/AAAAAAAABPo/s427m9WmSPI/s1600/2012-12-14_11-32-37_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--MSICPkgifQ/UMuD4uOTkgI/AAAAAAAABPo/s427m9WmSPI/s1600/2012-12-14_11-32-37_4.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqxbnIy96Us/UMuD9H0CfoI/AAAAAAAABPw/lOPUcXzCtNQ/s1600/2012-12-14_11-36-22_55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yqxbnIy96Us/UMuD9H0CfoI/AAAAAAAABPw/lOPUcXzCtNQ/s1600/2012-12-14_11-36-22_55.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's to one last day of cleaning, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">wrapping, and shopping,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before down to Albuquerque </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I must be hopping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The family is coming </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">for Christmas with ME!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh joyful day--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">we'll all sing with glee!</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">May you all boldly go </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">where you've never gone before, </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppQPFulvoPY/UNU2tHsLN3I/AAAAAAAABaY/MfW14znTwwA/s1600/2012-11-22_13-22-56_604.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ppQPFulvoPY/UNU2tHsLN3I/AAAAAAAABaY/MfW14znTwwA/s1600/2012-11-22_13-22-56_604.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My geek-haven home office</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Spending time--wibbly or wobbly--</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">with family and more</span>.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6j0pGSpS58/UNU2rMcpxXI/AAAAAAAABaQ/XPPnzlv6Uis/s1600/2012-11-22_13-22-37_539.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E6j0pGSpS58/UNU2rMcpxXI/AAAAAAAABaQ/XPPnzlv6Uis/s1600/2012-11-22_13-22-37_539.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More office--note the Star Trek stein</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">EXTERMINATE your worries and </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">CELEBRATE Jesus' birth! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObELHujIspAng5q_1K3UnoWqFuhFEYbpuKSSz-P-fnpqd2Z-lYmxWqPe0i2sL6zZV6R6pg011buCy3NFfk5ef-ba5loRJiq-B2S7xsbMm-nhFoDFZtHIjt5Um8vfCLgqeWN9IhkwwNLg/s1600/2012-12-14_09-07-33_938.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObELHujIspAng5q_1K3UnoWqFuhFEYbpuKSSz-P-fnpqd2Z-lYmxWqPe0i2sL6zZV6R6pg011buCy3NFfk5ef-ba5loRJiq-B2S7xsbMm-nhFoDFZtHIjt5Um8vfCLgqeWN9IhkwwNLg/s1600/2012-12-14_09-07-33_938.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, </span></span></h2>
<h2 style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">AND TO ALL LOTS OF MIRTH.</span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7NMrP10oDiU/UMuA6LCFFzI/AAAAAAAABOo/McRkh5RogAw/s1600/2012-12-09_13-59-22_906.jpg" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LOVE!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oauVqcRLG2A/UNU2aGe542I/AAAAAAAABZo/u3ytFdSPWd4/s1600/2012-11-22_13-20-01_292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></span></div>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-296335577467916122012-12-21T23:05:00.001-05:002012-12-21T23:05:15.041-05:00The Wedding of Amy and Bub<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2>
<b>August 4, 2012</b></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8jxx5fMTbw/UNPGHTSAnsI/AAAAAAAABTM/Fyu7t0O4GDs/s1600/334033_10151025764201538_1186399494_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8jxx5fMTbw/UNPGHTSAnsI/AAAAAAAABTM/Fyu7t0O4GDs/s1600/334033_10151025764201538_1186399494_o.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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<br />
Amy and Bub's wedding week ran smoothly, thanks to my family's famous planning. A several-page document listed the duties of the bride's family, the groom's family, and many friends. Mine included planning and co-hosting the bachelorette party, accompanying Dad to the airport to retrieve out-of-town family members and to the store to pick up his tux, being fitted for the bridesmaid dress Mom was frantically finishing, enjoying my brother's company, and making sure the bride was happy and our younger sister, caffeinated.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AUZ8nBeqkn0/UNPFz-vdWbI/AAAAAAAABQ4/Ufl2-4K9AM0/s1600/191090_10151025692166538_1053278733_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AUZ8nBeqkn0/UNPFz-vdWbI/AAAAAAAABQ4/Ufl2-4K9AM0/s1600/191090_10151025692166538_1053278733_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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<br />
I flew in Saturday. Mom sewed. I drank coffee, and tried the dress on when told.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MAOf_dMlZPk/UNPF6mQJNtI/AAAAAAAABRg/h_ixVJX8jnQ/s1600/218317_10151025730636538_11459574_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MAOf_dMlZPk/UNPF6mQJNtI/AAAAAAAABRg/h_ixVJX8jnQ/s1600/218317_10151025730636538_11459574_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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<br />
Sunday-Tuesday, repeat.<br />
<br />
On Wednesday, Amy's new sister-in-law, Elena, and I threw a fantastic bachelorette party at Elena's house, if we do say so ourselves. We served carne adovada tacos (bringin' a little southwestern flavor to the northwest!), amazing homemade refried beans and salsa (thanks, Mariela!), fixings from all the gals, brownies from a box, and the hit of the night: an amazing <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/classic-spanish-sangria/detail.aspx" target="_blank">sangria</a> (I used a cabernet sauvigon and added peaches). We played a couple games, embarrassed her only a little, and generally had a great time with about 20 fabulous gals who love Amy to pieces.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rDajyCuknQc/UIcT31XPX_I/AAAAAAAABGo/rYVoQoNUYco/s1600/2012-08-01_16-25-58_657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rDajyCuknQc/UIcT31XPX_I/AAAAAAAABGo/rYVoQoNUYco/s1600/2012-08-01_16-25-58_657.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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On Thursday, Aunt Jody and Cousin Nik arrived from California and Louisiana.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTUAhabQWYbqToCIFOYwLPWCd37qvI8aTXA5JDotWntX-vu_DgHuiCKFk-snH7dZycM4An9S7xuMJqQN87ngARMpnfEOerAut0VW6XGMAy588v4W2jDZpyYXrE1xVNj3sPIuG-3hQ8Dw/s1600/2012-08-03_14-09-47_691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTUAhabQWYbqToCIFOYwLPWCd37qvI8aTXA5JDotWntX-vu_DgHuiCKFk-snH7dZycM4An9S7xuMJqQN87ngARMpnfEOerAut0VW6XGMAy588v4W2jDZpyYXrE1xVNj3sPIuG-3hQ8Dw/s1600/2012-08-03_14-09-47_691.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j-Eo9L_AZMo/UIcWSNT3BfI/AAAAAAAABH0/r1fO2BdYxE4/s1600/2012-08-03_14-09-56_715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-j-Eo9L_AZMo/UIcWSNT3BfI/AAAAAAAABH0/r1fO2BdYxE4/s1600/2012-08-03_14-09-56_715.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Before the airport stop, I had a blast at Men's Wearhouse with Dad, and could not get over how schnazzy he looks in a suit. I was pretty disappointed, though, that Bubby didn't go with these:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--hi8y5pQKdQ/UIcUYvGgTdI/AAAAAAAABG4/7bXjX73gfhU/s1600/2012-08-02_16-22-39_163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--hi8y5pQKdQ/UIcUYvGgTdI/AAAAAAAABG4/7bXjX73gfhU/s1600/2012-08-02_16-22-39_163.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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On Friday, the whole gaggle of us descended on the church building to DECORATE. Their decorations were brilliant reds, golds, and purples, an homage to Amy and Bub's strong ties to Morocco. Flowing, rich fabrics draped for a tent, over tables, and around lanterns.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgWUV3KGOdmF4eEYna2VquTv3l4YcSEVooWS0RoU_8O1nhaKw6UCii_SuLTDKXygfj4BFcRCZC4XoY7DKlaZBTYMBvqg8ZEj3fD0qdgZukUiLnPoM_WiZlnyh1uF3h_fieBNyZS2FnT8/s1600/2012-08-03_14-27-15_671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgWUV3KGOdmF4eEYna2VquTv3l4YcSEVooWS0RoU_8O1nhaKw6UCii_SuLTDKXygfj4BFcRCZC4XoY7DKlaZBTYMBvqg8ZEj3fD0qdgZukUiLnPoM_WiZlnyh1uF3h_fieBNyZS2FnT8/s1600/2012-08-03_14-27-15_671.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qQue5546qTc/UNPGPmxQU8I/AAAAAAAABUg/L8Eddnhca1U/s1600/478428_10151025848856538_782026497_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qQue5546qTc/UNPGPmxQU8I/AAAAAAAABUg/L8Eddnhca1U/s1600/478428_10151025848856538_782026497_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Aunt Kristie and I learned that sometimes, when you are told to drape fabric on a table, and you take twenty minutes getting it just right, the bride will come by later and completely redo it. At that point, you just sip your lattes, smile knowingly at each other, and perhaps work less hard on the next decorating job you are given.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd51RgfSqb7ec0b8JjKFbAQZxemSDerzWEk1laF1O8vnH7y06XzyrMUByje42WRH-k76o3Rb2UuHuPcRqvUUt4Xemnvv9kSS5W1oE7YZSDKKvHznVwcHv31RMStNEPma7l6BiC4SlJaaI/s1600/2012-08-03_14-06-55_551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd51RgfSqb7ec0b8JjKFbAQZxemSDerzWEk1laF1O8vnH7y06XzyrMUByje42WRH-k76o3Rb2UuHuPcRqvUUt4Xemnvv9kSS5W1oE7YZSDKKvHznVwcHv31RMStNEPma7l6BiC4SlJaaI/s1600/2012-08-03_14-06-55_551.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Post-decorating bash, we rehearsed. It was my fourth bridesmaid stint, but walking in a straight line when people are staring at you is still nerve-wracking. Our shoes were flat, bless Amy's dear soul, but juggling a bouquet, two dudes (I got the extra groomsman), and a full-length gown is tricky!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVj0Kju0gN7dJS2VLUe587uY8Km1KXS0wN4Ombihjij9Fg5lWcYV-Djx_nQ2_Z50Flf-lVp7jeBeBYf5z39xdp381y7La6Q5tYx8Q6CvJhyphenhyphenRJwGhTCxCIQk1lghqNgk8p5yBy4E1o8x0/s1600/621835_10151025727496538_1174410229_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVj0Kju0gN7dJS2VLUe587uY8Km1KXS0wN4Ombihjij9Fg5lWcYV-Djx_nQ2_Z50Flf-lVp7jeBeBYf5z39xdp381y7La6Q5tYx8Q6CvJhyphenhyphenRJwGhTCxCIQk1lghqNgk8p5yBy4E1o8x0/s1600/621835_10151025727496538_1174410229_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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The new in-laws hosted an incredible Moroccan rehearsal supper in their beautiful yard. Tagine, couscous, olives, chobbes...mmmm. We were surrounded by lanterns, Moroccan silver tea sets, and friends on a warm Washington evening.<br />
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On Saturday, we woke up early to go get FANCY. Amy and Mom zipped off immediately. Jenny and I took it a bit more slowly, and stopped for some elixir of life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeqoOi5RXrQ/UNPGV9twcRI/AAAAAAAABVk/FuR6Lu4GZrk/s1600/616716_10151025693131538_224218282_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jeqoOi5RXrQ/UNPGV9twcRI/AAAAAAAABVk/FuR6Lu4GZrk/s1600/616716_10151025693131538_224218282_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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Amy married into a family with two professional cosmetologists. It turns out that the convenience of this cannot be overstated. For next-to-nothing, the bridesmaids (and bride, obvs) got fabulous<br />
up-dos. The bridesmaids did our own makeup, but Amy got the full Elena Treatment!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VHhl9RTUwQI/UIdVD4-dScI/AAAAAAAABKA/v_tw7kQh82k/s1600/2012-08-04_09-53-59_195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VHhl9RTUwQI/UIdVD4-dScI/AAAAAAAABKA/v_tw7kQh82k/s1600/2012-08-04_09-53-59_195.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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We put the dear in her dress...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn86Xc1qqK9hKp9jvPw3muFIZ5uy0H577cLmkJWxW2_P7zHU4dy5a0Lqc_SYj2y5TTwzJvSWaMjcSz9IRiAagJJgjViEIJ_XaewZ65f2xRtZUn_sEJJ1IYBTn8iyMK51kis4FcqzlIFMI/s1600/2012-08-04_10-17-19_399.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn86Xc1qqK9hKp9jvPw3muFIZ5uy0H577cLmkJWxW2_P7zHU4dy5a0Lqc_SYj2y5TTwzJvSWaMjcSz9IRiAagJJgjViEIJ_XaewZ65f2xRtZUn_sEJJ1IYBTn8iyMK51kis4FcqzlIFMI/s1600/2012-08-04_10-17-19_399.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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...and set off to see the paparazza.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-qiIGNdUXA/UNPGYDQR-YI/AAAAAAAABV4/-oBomvtFf0w/s1600/620977_10151025703491538_1038062838_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J-qiIGNdUXA/UNPGYDQR-YI/AAAAAAAABV4/-oBomvtFf0w/s1600/620977_10151025703491538_1038062838_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hEHRFF40W0s/UNPGOZ_7J3I/AAAAAAAABUQ/czMQkLWkHdw/s1600/472973_10151025703811538_1930401893_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hEHRFF40W0s/UNPGOZ_7J3I/AAAAAAAABUQ/czMQkLWkHdw/s1600/472973_10151025703811538_1930401893_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UCZxGWP7j_XRWb-r0wnmtG14Rl7hwV0xGwfiruLPkFm2d2yp3IFu8rrzZF0t7OrPrhba0X9nxWfUM6SJUdQKmjdIPtJf0ZG7iDmFBJv2wnvBIVaOGZHkyYBtCW6-PVyJqw6s76e64BE/s1600/191826_10151025705446538_1682053467_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UCZxGWP7j_XRWb-r0wnmtG14Rl7hwV0xGwfiruLPkFm2d2yp3IFu8rrzZF0t7OrPrhba0X9nxWfUM6SJUdQKmjdIPtJf0ZG7iDmFBJv2wnvBIVaOGZHkyYBtCW6-PVyJqw6s76e64BE/s1600/191826_10151025705446538_1682053467_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvWR18Fy92ug90NdCtEhjlnfLDbUekoAwFjbz6TFUKW-trXbuLFOU-UfrjcRfHPxiLJyTCduyxSitzUOTiFGvinZ668JP6fkNIS_S4fu43S3-UoNtSh85MrqhKXi_Gwkn47hjlbwVhew/s1600/2012-08-04_13-50-14_411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0PrixF-v4yo/UNPF7fd7nmI/AAAAAAAABRo/drmJ_nyo6j4/s1600/210823_10151025739316538_2128666439_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0PrixF-v4yo/UNPF7fd7nmI/AAAAAAAABRo/drmJ_nyo6j4/s1600/210823_10151025739316538_2128666439_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We walked a lot. Through the woods.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvWR18Fy92ug90NdCtEhjlnfLDbUekoAwFjbz6TFUKW-trXbuLFOU-UfrjcRfHPxiLJyTCduyxSitzUOTiFGvinZ668JP6fkNIS_S4fu43S3-UoNtSh85MrqhKXi_Gwkn47hjlbwVhew/s1600/2012-08-04_13-50-14_411.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvWR18Fy92ug90NdCtEhjlnfLDbUekoAwFjbz6TFUKW-trXbuLFOU-UfrjcRfHPxiLJyTCduyxSitzUOTiFGvinZ668JP6fkNIS_S4fu43S3-UoNtSh85MrqhKXi_Gwkn47hjlbwVhew/s1600/2012-08-04_13-50-14_411.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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We almost died on a very rickety trampoline (to be fair, it was probably just fine without six adult females jumping on it). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kwla6LCxZFI/UNPGLyL2yZI/AAAAAAAABT0/6pwefbJxR8E/s1600/464572_10151025752961538_342448917_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kwla6LCxZFI/UNPGLyL2yZI/AAAAAAAABT0/6pwefbJxR8E/s1600/464572_10151025752961538_342448917_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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David's gonna keep our new BIL in line. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dfUo2l5WVXk/UNPGa05rD1I/AAAAAAAABWI/eRweCN0AKWU/s1600/621709_10151025744606538_1300301385_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dfUo2l5WVXk/UNPGa05rD1I/AAAAAAAABWI/eRweCN0AKWU/s1600/621709_10151025744606538_1300301385_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4mPikQf7RwI/UNPF_F1silI/AAAAAAAABSI/50dimPcjX3w/s1600/265535_10151025760706538_1343978465_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4mPikQf7RwI/UNPF_F1silI/AAAAAAAABSI/50dimPcjX3w/s1600/265535_10151025760706538_1343978465_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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Finally, it was time to go the chapel! On the way, we stopped for more liquid courage. Natch. We had a lovely prayer time with Amykins, and waited for the go-ahead on the walkie talkie. Marching orders came, and we lined up for the big moment!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HKcqUprwFEI/UNPF-XIHuuI/AAAAAAAABR8/TLGbzRwYvpE/s1600/255964_10151025845756538_1491156105_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HKcqUprwFEI/UNPF-XIHuuI/AAAAAAAABR8/TLGbzRwYvpE/s1600/255964_10151025845756538_1491156105_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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David's taking care of Mumsy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XbznsGDNqNg/UNPGURBzrkI/AAAAAAAABVQ/ebB1JyKs4QM/s1600/614856_10151025852191538_1997594935_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XbznsGDNqNg/UNPGURBzrkI/AAAAAAAABVQ/ebB1JyKs4QM/s1600/614856_10151025852191538_1997594935_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
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Will Dad give her away??<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cJNDi_t-s08/UNPF2m702vI/AAAAAAAABY8/lgQAZAzSp4k/s1600/192389_10151025864551538_2104110516_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cJNDi_t-s08/UNPF2m702vI/AAAAAAAABY8/lgQAZAzSp4k/s1600/192389_10151025864551538_2104110516_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I always bemoan the fact that as a bridesmaid, I am clearly there for the bride, yet I get to look at the groom's face the whole time. Ah well. I love you, I suppose, new BIL. The ceremony went off without a hitch and was lovely. It was also under 30 minutes, so score!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vyOv8iU1C6Y/UNPGUiTFlMI/AAAAAAAABVY/K4lzMrOh9qc/s1600/616275_10151025867316538_1351085109_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vyOv8iU1C6Y/UNPGUiTFlMI/AAAAAAAABVY/K4lzMrOh9qc/s1600/616275_10151025867316538_1351085109_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Them's got MARRIED.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uq558Q0ETkI/UNPGVpChBeI/AAAAAAAABVg/-CkbcnOT2DM/s1600/616647_10151025880076538_1047504506_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uq558Q0ETkI/UNPGVpChBeI/AAAAAAAABVg/-CkbcnOT2DM/s1600/616647_10151025880076538_1047504506_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I witnessed it. Pretty sure.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--3hiwzmFoYs/UNPGJ01sABI/AAAAAAAABTo/z5ll1CAiIQs/s1600/339644_10151025888026538_1129811098_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--3hiwzmFoYs/UNPGJ01sABI/AAAAAAAABTo/z5ll1CAiIQs/s1600/339644_10151025888026538_1129811098_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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WE DID IT!!!</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xdY0q8RcEBY/UIdX5xEHd3I/AAAAAAAABMY/XCZ6ov1DxuE/s1600/2012-08-04_17-19-53_517.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xdY0q8RcEBY/UIdX5xEHd3I/AAAAAAAABMY/XCZ6ov1DxuE/s1600/2012-08-04_17-19-53_517.jpg" height="180" width="320" /> </a></div>
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After clean-up duties, we whisked ourselves back to the in-laws' beautifully-decorated compound for the outdoor reception. Praise the Lord for the most beautiful Western Washington day you could imagine! Not a drop of rain fell on our merriment!<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SsBwiXUK3LM/UIdYD__NzVI/AAAAAAAABMo/IQbjY_M9x8w/s1600/2012-08-04_17-59-18_612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SsBwiXUK3LM/UIdYD__NzVI/AAAAAAAABMo/IQbjY_M9x8w/s1600/2012-08-04_17-59-18_612.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
BFF Bethany drove down for the occasion!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QZzxZnLA5nc/UIdYLQGTV7I/AAAAAAAABM4/l6-rSoaq9kw/s1600/2012-08-04_18-24-05_88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QZzxZnLA5nc/UIdYLQGTV7I/AAAAAAAABM4/l6-rSoaq9kw/s1600/2012-08-04_18-24-05_88.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QKTogD84KC4/UNPF3OFKshI/AAAAAAAABRM/o-pP7RRp6G8/s1600/192224_10151025906491538_404929140_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QKTogD84KC4/UNPF3OFKshI/AAAAAAAABRM/o-pP7RRp6G8/s1600/192224_10151025906491538_404929140_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The food was incredible. Tri-tip steaks prepared by an uncle-in-law and a whole pig roasted by the husband of one of Amy's best childhood friends. I hear the cheesecakes were fabulous, but I was too distracted by keeping Amy fed, catching up with childhood friends, and dancing to their terrific music to try them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eV5pwFpl7ME/UNPGCYRKtjI/AAAAAAAABSs/ZLXPDEz_Ons/s1600/289203_10151025917566538_487945882_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eV5pwFpl7ME/UNPGCYRKtjI/AAAAAAAABSs/ZLXPDEz_Ons/s1600/289203_10151025917566538_487945882_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Oh and giving a speech. I hate talking to crowds of people. Here, I'm either overcome by love for my sister, whining about being in front of everyone, or feeling indigestion:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8NjUSxqbqLM/UNPGAAd8vbI/AAAAAAAABSQ/pvwYOqGosEU/s1600/272862_10151025908006538_1065962693_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8NjUSxqbqLM/UNPGAAd8vbI/AAAAAAAABSQ/pvwYOqGosEU/s1600/272862_10151025908006538_1065962693_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The in-laws delighted us with a song, with an apparently naughty Arabic verse that no one would translate for us (Amy fully understood it).<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSsgBiFQZrU/UNPGZ0NTrbI/AAAAAAAABWA/kJlWLuVdqws/s1600/620564_10151025915701538_1361496880_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cSsgBiFQZrU/UNPGZ0NTrbI/AAAAAAAABWA/kJlWLuVdqws/s1600/620564_10151025915701538_1361496880_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The newly-married couple had their first dances, visited with their guests, and eventually, ran off into the night! (Specifically, up to Whistler, Canada.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF321OooBJG35bGbyQo0q8sjzdNNJQ7oyvWLLQez5Za8qjzkmBRfTxeDJVii_Cjj3tzLXuNlip-JEQKhFMVHXyFxmKqVNz_57MHXao8Je_wRNCUQzCgHD9aXI8hri7nOY8ZZU2L-khcR4/s1600/339125_10151025941296538_684913708_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF321OooBJG35bGbyQo0q8sjzdNNJQ7oyvWLLQez5Za8qjzkmBRfTxeDJVii_Cjj3tzLXuNlip-JEQKhFMVHXyFxmKqVNz_57MHXao8Je_wRNCUQzCgHD9aXI8hri7nOY8ZZU2L-khcR4/s1600/339125_10151025941296538_684913708_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We danced the night away, grabbed some lanterns (Mom and Amy didn't want to keep all 100 of the jars they painted so prettily), stole sparkling cider off tables (we're rebels), and drove home to collapse from exhaustion.<br />
<br />
Kind of like this: <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLYf2IJR0Ys/UNPGStbM-lI/AAAAAAAABU8/QKqXCoJdDLg/s1600/614795_10151025754671538_1315932684_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLYf2IJR0Ys/UNPGStbM-lI/AAAAAAAABU8/QKqXCoJdDLg/s1600/614795_10151025754671538_1315932684_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No bridesmaids were hurt with the making of this wedding.<br />
<br />
On Sunday, I made my dearest parents wake up before 6am to take me to the airport. Love yooooou.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbNoZtUVyjQ/UNPGL9YwMFI/AAAAAAAABTw/fc9zkbYIb5U/s1600/339520_10151025737121538_1978278608_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gbNoZtUVyjQ/UNPGL9YwMFI/AAAAAAAABTw/fc9zkbYIb5U/s1600/339520_10151025737121538_1978278608_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Congratulations, Amy and Bub! You are a beautiful couple, and may the Lord bless your marriage!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QD7aT528a2M/UNPF6OrC1JI/AAAAAAAABRY/RqBT2rSgDOs/s1600/218311_10151025721976538_1528097830_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QD7aT528a2M/UNPF6OrC1JI/AAAAAAAABRY/RqBT2rSgDOs/s1600/218311_10151025721976538_1528097830_o.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By K</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(Pictures "By K" are by their official wedding photographer; the others are from my phone. If you want her details, let me know! Reprinted with permission from the bride. :) )physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-2353162940863671172012-09-09T00:24:00.000-04:002013-05-31T10:59:03.454-04:00Opera, Southwestern Style.<div style="text-align: left;">
The
<a href="http://www.santafeopera.org/">Santa Fe Opera</a> is
a unique and world-class opera house and company. Its season is
summer-only, due to its breathtaking open-air venue:</div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6sVQGah4s7m0JviqPgEjX7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1BR-luVk_kc/UA9jZv9XR6I/AAAAAAAAAug/vj9iDiid7kI/s400/2012-07-14_20-28-21_775.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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The
House, with its sleek and simple lines, was quite the contrast to the
ornate velvet-marble-and-gold of the <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2011/04/night-at-opera-wien-und-praha-part-vii.html">other
venues</a> I've visited. I appreciate both styles, but there's something incredibly special about breathing fresh air and watching such a beautiful art form against the backdrop of the high desert mountains and setting sun. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I determined before I moved that
if I had to, I'd see an opera here alone. However, thanks to a very handy
social networking tool, I found new postdoc friends for two operas, Maometto
II and Tosca!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We
were surrounded by gorgeous scenery:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(Maometto II) </div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/bpOwr2rFe2fK5CXYi-aJXr_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrjHY9W3_hnh1TAwgBXE0fZlapATpVhaK_1W5QQtAuNPxS5h6V_qMtA-_ITeSU2ASBY0MXbK9plkVf8WbdiACXGKXlMY2d0j11NbnQt8H4QR6RkE4k-DP8HdUg-rZvnVLD-vvc6DsFr8/s400/2012-07-14_19-30-01_685.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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(Tosca)</div>
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<tbody>
<tr align="center"><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ukUEWukPEwDceYYMJcPvpL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QAj83DmJ6qU/UEVurHtWcvI/AAAAAAAABA8/bK7JBFbQb4g/s400/2012-08-18_18-17-24_129.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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For both operas, my groups participated in the long-standing Santa Fe
Opera tradition of tailgating in the parking lot an hour or two before
the performance. This is not your college football game's tailgating. Replace beer with wine, hot dogs with tortellini, red solo cups with...clear plastic cups...and...okay, I never tailgated in college. Not really sure what else is usually there. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Nonetheless, we had some truly fantastic spreads. Tosca's involved wine, pasta, an array of appetizers, salads, and cookies. We did not go hungry.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Maometto II's classy spread:</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Z93WzN70t4ntvl9PWWNUob_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-JxbxdHsDjWk/UA9io1OP-8I/AAAAAAAAAuA/3FPA5mBO8ZY/s400/2012-07-14_19-32-16_868.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
We had SHRIMP.<br />
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Intermission Anecdotes: the
first evening, I braved the bar line for the traditional overpriced glass of champagne. The next
evening, I braved the gift shop. Pro tip: go for the refreshments, not the souvenirs. The bar
line was much less-scarily populated than the gift shop. Barely made it out
of there alive. Calm down, classy opera patrons! Is that mug really so
important to you?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On to short reviews! </div>
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<br /></div>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Maometto II: Beautiful and Tragic Star-crossed Lovebirds</div>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The weather was New Mexican perfect: clear and warm until the sun set, when it was just cool enough to make the packed house comfortable. We heard the balcony was super hot, but main floor? We were fiiine.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The set was fairly minimalist and muted most of the time...</div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/AAhIQUiudOEwNqSuUlXst7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-I7kXNNjl9iQ/UA9jNvJPOwI/AAAAAAAAAuY/lBQPRN6_-Ws/s400/2012-07-14_20-28-18_87.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
...though there were some super cool effects in some scenes, like a big red wall that represented Maometto's tent, not seen terribly well in this picture, but I can't find a better one:</div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/miep-mgwaigE_BvLEL-YTb_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="267" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PHAjdGNCVOM/UEvCBoxuJLI/AAAAAAAABEo/mIlOZszxd2c/s400/Maometto_II_02_1000_667_85.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<a href="http://www.santafe.com/blogs/read/santa-fe-opera-review-maometto-ii">source</a>)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Short synopsis: "The opera is set in the historical context of the fall of the Venetian colony of Negroponte to the
Turks in 1476. The Venetian governor Paolo Erisso intends his daughter Anna to marry Calbo, but
she loves Uberto, whom she had met in Corinth. Uberto turns out to be Maometto II in disguise.
Anna suffers a conflict between duty and love, choosing the former in marriage to Calbo and final
death by her own hand as the Turkish forces storm Negroponte." <a href="http://www.naxos.com/education/opera_libretti.asp?pn=&char=ALL&composer=Rossini&opera=Maometto&libretto_file=English/00_Synopsis.htm">source</a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While the whole cast sang beautifully, Anna and Maometto were incredible. Chill-givingly gorgeous, particularly Anna's strong and mournful songs when she realizes that her beloved is the invader of her country and plans to kill her father, when she decides whether to run away with him or stay and marry someone else, and then when she kills herself.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Maometto was GORGEOUS. (Anna was, too.)</div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/q8TnbDea91a8jaaWjT4i3b_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="272" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wtMUEOr7e9g/UEvCBmRvwLI/AAAAAAAABE8/W919EqLdGxc/s400/mao1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<a href="http://www.dallasnews.com/entertainment/columnists/scott-cantrell/20120803-opera-review-thunderstorms-counterpoint-santa-fes-maometto-ii.ece?ssimg=666882#ssStory666885">source</a>)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Maometto II was the perfect introduction to the Santa Fe Opera. I was hooked. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Tosca: Beautiful and Tragic...Star-crossed...Lovebirds...wait a second...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A thunderstorm rolled in just as we finished our dinner and packed up the cars. We ran, in our finery and heels, into...the open-air theater. Our seats in the back of the main floor were completely shielded from the sideways rain, but the orchestra section was soaked. It poured up until five or ten minutes before the start time, when an army of ushers attacked the sopping seats with towels. Everyone was safely seated, if a little bedraggled, in time for the show to go on. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now, immediately upon entering, I noticed the Stargate:</div>
<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left; width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/E7CVvNeGk-7c6HC5-sDfUb_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="226" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-cpp_gLX3Vkg/UEVusTxbv0I/AAAAAAAABBE/3Pw6CF-zZxo/s400/IMG_20120818_195217.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="left"><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Am I right? Even an usher agreed with my involuntary exclamation of surprised delight! The set was intriguing throughout the performance. It may be my favorite ever. (Like, ever.) </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The Stargate was actually an abstract view of the inside of a cathedral, looking straight into the ceiling. The actors walked all over an in-progress painting of the Madonna:</div>
<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left; width: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RIMy5x0Wm1z65sEhRbJcT7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-MmBLWnALjfw/UEwT8RxnCWI/AAAAAAAABFo/qAqkMhgR8b0/s400/tosca1.jpg" width="390" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<a href="http://www.stamfordadvocate.com/entertainment/article/Maometto-takes-Santa-Fe-Opera-by-storm-3763990.php#photo-3287333">source</a>)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In later scenes, we're outside the cathedral:</div>
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FUvDqGnLLrZAJIycfYXi_r_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="338" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-voS817kNtfI/UEwUI5Uk-II/AAAAAAAABFw/94Tv6rPJVa0/s400/tosca2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<a href="http://durangoherald.com/article/20120817/ARTS01/708179969&template=mobileart">source</a>)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It was mind-blowing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So you see a couple of tragic operas and you start to realize that they have the same basic story elements. Gorgeous and innocent (or strong and worldly) girl loves handsome and innocent (or bad yet redeemable) boy, something terrible happens involving parents/police/armies/consumption, and most people (especially our heroine and hero) die in the end, after singing brilliantly for a few hours. Tosca's twist on the standard involves a vividly evil crooked chief of police, a murder/self-defense killing, hope, trickery, and a truly dramatic ending that brought me to tears. I was that invested. Excellent job, Puccini and SFO.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here's the <a href="http://classicalmusic.about.com/od/opera/qt/Tosca-Synopsis.htm">synopsis</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
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<tr align="left"><td>I'm already psyched for next season, and waiting for the perfect time to buy tickets (after couch and bed buying). If you're a New Mexican opera lover (particularly one who already knows me) or an out-of-state friend who wants to visit, contact me and let's plan some Cultural Outings 2013!<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
NEXT TIME: WEDDING </td></tr>
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physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-8774556139738978092012-09-04T00:23:00.000-04:002012-09-04T00:27:56.469-04:00Wrappin' up the summerFriends, spas, trails, rodeos, operas, weddings...the last half of the summer was a bit busy! That doesn't even cover work, furniture shopping, or house decorating. Or copious amounts of Netflix and Hulu viewing. Some of these are more interesting than others. Don't worry, I'll stay on the fun side.<br />
<br />
So, White Collar and the Bachelorette. Can you BELIEVE...<br />
<br />
...kidding!<br />
<br />
This is pretty much a photo dump to catch us all up, dear readers. Even more photo-dumpy than usual. The fall months with impending actual couch arrival will be more conducive to blogging with words. <br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Friends<br />
~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Within a week of each other, I saw my favorite bethanys. The first visited New Mexico "on the way back" from a work trip to Florida (nothing says, "brief layover" like three extra flights). I was beyond thrilled to have my first visitor. She enjoyed my canyon:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GDFcmR3vnT-VL8fpFthuxr_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0AF-aFOMCl4/UA9kLKCr0iI/AAAAAAAAAvI/e0LM_RDfu_A/s400/2012-07-20_10-30-03_482.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I introduced her to Oppenheimer:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wUpjIFm8C1Gz5hghW2Begb_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-BlI7s0nBfqM/UA9lCVI1u9I/AAAAAAAAAvg/OVxg65HPBS0/s400/2012-07-20_11-21-14_916.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
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And we spent several glorious hours soaking in the mineral springs, getting massaged and prickly-pear salt-scrubbed, and eating amazing food at Ojo Caliente. <br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4ZxGStxu3cSZewY-kV-Kor_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-QC1T_BPgqK4/UA9mR-iLMSI/AAAAAAAAAwU/N8PIYxuxzW0/s400/2012-07-20_13-16-57_930.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Bethany was a saint and helped me shop for couches in Santa Fe. I'm enjoying this whole real-job thing! Previously, all of my furniture was free or Ikea. We found a beautiful non-Ikea couch that will be delivered this week. Furniture really does take its time...<br />
<br />
The rest of our weekend involved lots of New Mexican food (she's a convert), shopping for the perfect turquoise earrings (she's still looking), and avoiding the rattlesnake museum in Albuquerque like the plague. It has cute tortoises outside, though:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wBshVC75GHLwIT8bBGj5KL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="81" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzUS18ji2Qory_R1QESWmhFGDwL9sC5bfqEaUGqFtbP5vkIDf5Ml92aiqWFor_-j8SkZ-PauyKNtcN_ae10VgALMGZuQxvqg8PcV9Gu5Ieyx_TWJdj1szfYGwVHDfLIGyeKE8xb9KP1Y/s144/2012-07-22_14-26-49_344.jpg" width="144" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
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My house felt so quiet and lonely after she left! Thank heavens I saw her a week later at my sister's wedding. :)<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/EWafr4XWui4v8ZaomHg7Fr_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-p6bjEgItvNI/UA9rUtc849I/AAAAAAAAA0I/Gt2w1JcH5B8/s400/2012-07-22_11-06-41_686.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
But before the wedding, I saw Second Bethany!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ahRl4ixE1MDGlWGRfM8Yo7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Bv-OGwB9biU/UEUf1JjZ3XI/AAAAAAAAA68/oTRYPPJ674M/s400/2012-07-28_14-13-59_45.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
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She picked me up from SeaTac and took me downtown for lunch and wandering. (My family was at wedding in Oregon. Yes, the week before my sister's. Aaagh!) I discovered that the Seattle waterfront sprouted a ferris wheel:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5ZgiwGIkFfEpCAx23JJBLL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-bxr8UYn5sR4/UEUfFeGhj7I/AAAAAAAAA5w/XycI2M0sJMQ/s400/2012-07-28_13-49-52_255.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And also, that the Space Needle suddenly supports Princeton:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/DdBB5aZTi5cu4JWm1r1b9b_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FsJDTqLhkdY/UEUgHIHaapI/AAAAAAAAA7g/Gcrb0okZzpQ/s400/2012-07-28_15-17-14_847.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(Or it went retro for the anniversary of the <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/thebigblog/2012/04/16/sorry-prince-charles-the-space-needle-is-going-orange-again/">Seattle World's Fair</a>.)<br />
<br />
It was wonderful to catch up with her, too, and I hope Second Bethany makes it down to Los Alamos soon. :)<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Trails<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Los Alamos is situated on several finger mesas extending off the side of a supervolcano in the Jemez mountains that blew its top (much like Mt. St. Helens, only 2000 times bigger) a very long time ago. (This is my <a href="http://seethesouthwest.com/2402/valles-caldera-new-mexicos-supervolcano/">source</a>, along with Wikipedia, natch.)<br />
<br />
Mesas (and the Sangre de Christo mountains in the distance):<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ndasT1mOYeJbRFE4x_jfA7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0eplXcETGXt7McrEV5xVEbOQKxjVVUo-vwXdi7mCptiid1R0VlUs6tuDM0v6mOO1nPc78ygQrDW4f2zLkpwpDLEngMjYtUzGg0G98BOwN_kvC4wRZ_NZoGrL_j26H5_wC9016V2Grr0/s400/2012-08-11_08-52-04_266.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCMiLxMC73Pa3Aw&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What's left of the volcano is the Valles Caldera:<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sIqdqZ8GnwODs3KWXgqsM7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xG9g3Fr2wEQ/UEVssijmgYI/AAAAAAAAA_o/pgLBI3DlnhU/s400/mapnorthernnm.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
(<a href="http://www.google.com/url?q=http://vallescaldera.com/maps&usd=2&usg=AFQjCNGo_AFdIwkFMgPMRUBXqiuzUgE7tQ">source</a>)<br />
<br />
My new friend, Madi, and I have hiked twice in the caldera. We've learned that while we may feel okay down here at 7300ft, hiking up steep trails that begin at 9000ft is killer. But the views! The viiieeews!<br />
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ObLsNkQ36h8a0nEDKXcNNb_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8-K30lKGn_o/UEVvRtVHx0I/AAAAAAAABB0/i1NILG7-sKY/s400/2012-08-25_17-22-35_302.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/abO4XVurAB0_2fIaZAOmi7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHl7YBRAf1WMgaeK7FqRXX-SdtB6CY2Bf0n-JYVjU0RKi6zwvHGBNLUtZo7HKvfLDWX9iZ7VEbPFYkm0CJP6DxsGi3cSEt7KhoupXsKgu-nb85pYpzBfOWgV55__M8SbvSFHQpVxG488/s400/2012-08-25_17-24-55_846.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wnCAMk8jNV4ohIB599Z8Mb_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJV3kfohZf20Ks4LejzG1th2ajDwOfYby5LVIYaV3U1MNs9NCUDKL26NxFklNwRwzQTJD7wUShZc8UBIF6Idv5t6O-uRjHPCaGWqruKG3CZwEXiVMMgVO20ECrBbOI6NEj01KaRuc93U/s400/2012-08-25_17-27-33_424.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There's still a lot of damage from the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Las_Conchas_Fire">fire</a> last year, but it's still pretty in a different way:<br />
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/PEVcqgoAxl_6t89UCUOxsL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6DFXcxvoTFRdKzREkJVM0-Lx2Ytbv9WRs0818rXnFfPNTav1-B2lWB1CsLzgKAP8MBVD6dglolxRBcceb62ojkL9s1ojnlrPShBGhg4RRwHOggsOi1vCVzajT-KzkEVPheJbdD5Dmoxg/s400/2012-08-25_17-02-24_490.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
~~~~~~~~~<br />
RODEO<br />
~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
Several friends and I ventured out to the Los Alamos County Rodeo. The Fair took over the entire downtown and consisted of good ol' fair food and arts and crafts. No rides, sadly, unless you count the bouncy slides and paddle boats on <a href="http://www.losalamoshistory.org/school.htm">Ashley (Pond)</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ashley_Pond.jpg">Pond</a>. After stuffing ourselves full of dripping-with-grease french fries, we procured liquid courage and drove out to North Mesa to find some cowboys.<br />
<br />
This is about how we felt walking into the dusty, gritty arena as scientists with our fancy espresso drinks:<br />
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KdxKrUYb5uxzrA1s4qbaD7_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-eFnhEcCzi8g/UEVuSgLabRI/AAAAAAAABAU/HSwtf1E8vjQ/s400/2012-08-11_14-05-25_15.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But this is Los Alamos. While there were certainly real cowboy-type folk, the majority of the crowd was of the lab variety.<br />
<br />
The rodeo started off with a winner in Mutton Bustin':<br />
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Y7gtfrp1_6nn9-ypeAmo_r_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-IfK-d4RzLyw/UEVuXOCa3QI/AAAAAAAABAc/9Na0blzvBU8/s400/2012-08-11_14-19-56_318.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sheep were set loose with small, brave children clinging desperately to their backs. The children did not last long.<br />
<br />
On the sheep. They were unharmed. <br />
<br />
There were the requisite bull riding, cattle roping, and barrel riding events. Besides the kids-on-sheep, my favorite moment was when the sole boy in the barrel riding couldn't get his stubborn horse to move. A nice cowboy pulled the horse around the entire course:<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/VaOKlAXG3IKC98fH25UC5b_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-l3JLjhIsQhA/UEVumtPUoaI/AAAAAAAABA0/L4ZMqCifWm8/s400/2012-08-11_17-19-34_567.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Summer is not complete without ice cream:<br />
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<tr><td><br />
<br />
<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xjFZTBJlctPbAP07quHHDL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-7kBbwlkIzIQ/UEVvmOY04RI/AAAAAAAABCY/aSW1QlLEEq8/s400/2012-08-11_15-15-22_313.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I leave you now with...<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Gratuitous Faraday Pictures<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <br />
<br />
SQUIRREL.<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/MnjL6UdkjMyrHiAao7ft_L_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3a1B8TcF9N4/UEVu6zZKPMI/AAAAAAAABBU/NMxS6jCo9IM/s400/2012-08-24_14-48-14_267.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCMiLxMC73Pa3Aw&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
SUNBEAM.<br />
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<tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/k9MrYomPBvLXWkU2FQJHxL_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-h5aYYrB9Zuk/UEVuIO_uvTI/AAAAAAAAA_8/KpAovILKrkc/s400/2012-08-09_15-48-27_55.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
WHAT?<br />
<table style="width: auto;">
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Q73CvUyrWWRghDLQP10Nhr_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-afqkJRw_rDI/UEWC7FgN_sI/AAAAAAAABD4/JbZfHHATKJU/s400/2012-08-15_17-34-50_989.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
</table>
<br />
<br />
Just let me lounge...<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GFQs2W2KxYfiiixaliR717_4lJe2mb4E0VSOMTJfN64?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGDrxfJnnDYOLntz2Dk0TZ6S7JibXYpJR__5ODVZbExwdUF0Zvtx7tiG04WbWGEoOz6uWgZj0w62xg1KlCgPxvC-WcQAUweDtfK67EVXD4ebAirUs3raSQAXWCzCHhQbmZotghmUyxvM/s400/2012-08-19_20-06-47_431.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/102088229024043195375/LosAlamos2012?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Los Alamos 2012</a></td></tr>
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Yes, there are still cardboard boxes in my living room. My couch hasn't arrived yet! I don't have the motivation.<br />
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
Next Time<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
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WEDDING. OPERA.<br />
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7681135019699968086.post-42180769957681939672012-07-07T17:00:00.000-04:002012-07-08T11:07:57.774-04:00Settling in the Southwest<br />
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I've lived in northern New Mexico for three weeks, and I
can't get over the view.<br />
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My dad explores the canyon beyond my
backyard.</div>
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My townhouse from my cute little scrubby backyard.</div>
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I feel much more settled in Los Alamos. It helped having Mom and Dad with me for <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2012/06/happy-father-day-and-life-update.html">so long</a>! Besides the backyard, we explored the grocery store, all two main streets, and the fabulous Bradbury Science Museum.<br />
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The last weekend they were in New Mexico with me, we visited Santa Fe to catch up with about ten of his junior high and high school classmates! Mom and I got a huge kick out of seeing Dad with the friends we've heard about for years.<br />
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In front of the Railrunner.</div>
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Mom, Dad, and the St. Francis Cathedral</div>
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The gang of about twenty people had dinner at Tomasita's--a delicious New Mexican restaurant near the railyard in Santa Fe. After many sopapillas, we trucked off to the Cowgirl BBQ for baked potato ice cream: vanilla ice cream rolled in chocolate powder, topped with whip cream, pistachios, and banana "butter."</div>
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Delicious.</div>
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The next day was Mom and Dad's last with me in the Southwest. We headed to Albuquerque, where we visited:<br />
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It's a fabulous museum of, well, nuclear science and history! After the Dulles Airport branch of the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum in <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2012/06/move-day-1-faradays-odyssey.html">DC</a>, the American Museum of Science and Energy in <a href="http://physikerinknits.blogspot.com/2012/06/move-day-2-country-roads.html">Oak Ridge, TN,</a> and the Bradbury Science Museum in Los Alamos, this beautifully capped off a very cohesive road trip of science, energy, and technology museums. </div>
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Many people pioneered the understanding of the atom. </div>
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Chemistry teacher mom wants this floor.</div>
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I'm just saying hey to my great-great-great-great-grand-advisor, Ernest Rutherford.</div>
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For reals. I can trace my academic lineage to him! </div>
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After that, we had lunch in Old Town Albuquerque and they flew off to help my sister <a href="http://orangelilies.blogspot.com/2012/06/six-more-weeks-and-i-will-be-married-i.html">plan her wedding</a>. You know. This is kind of a busy year for our family. No biggie.<br />
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Once the parents left, I had an ENTIRE week before work started on the 25th. I had hoped that everything would be so brilliantly timed that I'd spend that week unpacking and calmly preparing to be a postdoc. Oh no. The moving company further delayed my shipment from the 14th to the 18th to the 22nd to FINALLY the 29th. Yes, it is here now. Praise the Lord.<br />
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I amused myself quite well, however. I got a library card and borrowed books and DVDs. I saw THREE movies at 1pm during the week! At the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, I was the only person under 50 (most were pushing 70). At Snow White and the Huntsman, I was one of three people total. BRAVE had an extremely diverse crowd in a packed theater. Pixar appeals to everyone!<br />
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I also finished a present for the soon-to-be-born daughter of my dear friends, Rachel and Ben.<br />
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Child better appreciate her.</div>
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I visited the Los Alamos Historical Museum. Before there was a National Lab, there was a boys' school on this mesa. Fuller Lodge is one of the remaining buildings from the school, which was commandeered for the war effort.<br />
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And of course, I hung out with Faraday quite a lot while waiting for our stuff to arrive. He's certainly claimed the house as his own.</div>
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Stairs? HIS.</div>
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Boxes? HIS.</div>
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Windowsill and doggie (Hank) next door? HIS.</div>
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Hall cabinet thingy? Definitely his. </div>
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The new Keurig, however, is mine. I have a well-documented fondness for coffee, and driving to Starbucks twice a day became both a time sink and a budget drain. Once the moving company stated firmly that my shipment (and thus neither my espresso machine nor my French press) would not arrive before work started, I called up my buddy Amazon and the next day, he sent me this.<br />
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Finally, two weeks after promised, look what pulled into my narrow street?!</div>
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The unloaders were fantastic. Finally, a happy ending to this moving saga! They carried my heavy, heavy boxes of textbooks upstairs, they dragged my patio furniture to the backyard, they even put my bed back together for me. I know it's their job, but it was super hot and they did everything with a smile and friendly conversation! I appreciated it so much.<br />
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Faraday was locked in the bathroom during this time, of course, and I'm sure hearing strange men and the bang of boxes on the floor gave the poor dear flashbacks to packing day. He seemed pleasantly surprised to emerge from his cell to find familiar furniture!<br />
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He rubbed his face on every table and chair. </div>
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"Uh-oh, my nemesis, The Vacuum, survived the trip..." </div>
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I'm thrilled to be unpacking finally, so only finding broken things could truly upset me at this point. Nothing major so far! I am quite often amused/perplexed/disturbed by the lack of correspondence between what the label on the box says and what the contents of the box are.<br />
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Case in point. I had a box labeled only, "BAKING PANS." Sure, there were a few pans in there. There were also some bowls and utensils. Fine, those are kitchen items. But these?<br />
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Really? Baking Pans? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_EczC1HcuUq9oLYr0xSM9Dd7vubs9mcUdHDePV98WrvGqGkrKNua-GoYG2Uuf0fNMKiqlWq0RdoU_Gkzw1eaVGI6ZU3Gq1y9C72ZnsmqqPh7e302xTGUsjOG-XL750GOTZEPLGYMwkFY/s1600/2012-06-29_19-25-43_521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_EczC1HcuUq9oLYr0xSM9Dd7vubs9mcUdHDePV98WrvGqGkrKNua-GoYG2Uuf0fNMKiqlWq0RdoU_Gkzw1eaVGI6ZU3Gq1y9C72ZnsmqqPh7e302xTGUsjOG-XL750GOTZEPLGYMwkFY/s320/2012-06-29_19-25-43_521.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Also, I realize that my last name is difficult and often mangled (I found at least four different spellings of it on boxes), but, World: my name is JESSICA. </div>
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NOT THIS: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvvkFRsQJQ3ggxXiKo76B1VcwPS-JUPwv9eHWINFNwh_RciVAVrQ4gEKEvAN2j87WUybhDuwRkM0Jf6RzXD88v-stQy1Vj61c2y_5wNAnF3y7vezd-m6QzUxAqZqywpaTc3I0ipMa96Y/s1600/2012-07-01_22-33-49_539.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvvkFRsQJQ3ggxXiKo76B1VcwPS-JUPwv9eHWINFNwh_RciVAVrQ4gEKEvAN2j87WUybhDuwRkM0Jf6RzXD88v-stQy1Vj61c2y_5wNAnF3y7vezd-m6QzUxAqZqywpaTc3I0ipMa96Y/s320/2012-07-01_22-33-49_539.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6DLeyIBp4c/T_iXQiIQ3rI/AAAAAAAAAr4/Rtrhaex0Qqw/s1600/2012-06-30_19-04-04_659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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By the way, Felicity was in that box. She's apparently "misc stuff." Sigh. At least the movers didn't mangle my almost 22-year-old doll.</div>
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So, now that work is moving along and most of my boxes are empty (even if a lot of the items are only in piles in the rooms they belong), I've been trying to make new friends and get back to running. I'm nowhere near fully acclimated to 7300ft elevation, but I am at least walking five days a week, and running is slowly coming along!<br />
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One of these days, this pile will be gone:</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6DLeyIBp4c/T_iXQiIQ3rI/AAAAAAAAAr4/Rtrhaex0Qqw/s1600/2012-06-30_19-04-04_659.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l6DLeyIBp4c/T_iXQiIQ3rI/AAAAAAAAAr4/Rtrhaex0Qqw/s320/2012-06-30_19-04-04_659.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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And more of my walls will be decorated:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rQXpiiZfnRec1Y-ifCVu1j5bbBEBvBlHYzjIpq-x4vZB26DdP0_4ew0KCw_wnGwtclzn51tBLp9IZHX3mw_fm7zR0n9yk-fLjP35PyMduEuW82WAeHIs5j80EocatKbTCSZK5dO2d0s/s1600/2012-06-30_20-26-39_160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rQXpiiZfnRec1Y-ifCVu1j5bbBEBvBlHYzjIpq-x4vZB26DdP0_4ew0KCw_wnGwtclzn51tBLp9IZHX3mw_fm7zR0n9yk-fLjP35PyMduEuW82WAeHIs5j80EocatKbTCSZK5dO2d0s/s320/2012-06-30_20-26-39_160.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But first, let's have some more coffee. <br />
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<br />physikerinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12854735250567924250noreply@blogger.com0