(Okay so this is not a picture of Daddy, but while I was looking for one I came across this and thought it was funny.)

Hikes:

• Elliot Barker Trail This is one of my favorite non-peak hikes in the Taos area. The trail goes through a beautiful mountain meadow. This time we hiked a little further than last time, and were treated to some different views of the mountains. Some locals told us that one of the peaks we could see was the Taos Cone, which we didn’t even know about since you can’t see it from town.
• Lobo Peak This peak is back behind where our house was. It was a tough hike to 12,115, but worth it. There are multiple routes to take. We chose Italianos Canyon (off the ski road) to the ridge, and then on to the peak. The canyon was beautiful, with waterfalls and wildflowers and about a dozen creek crossings. The peak itself afforded the best view we’ve had in Taos. We could see all of the major mountains, the town, the ski area, and the Rio Grande Gorge all the way up to where the Red River Gorge meets it, at the Wild Rivers Scenic Area. We didn’t see any bighorn sheep up there, but we could see (and smell) lots of evidence of them.
  
  
• Devisidero Peak This mountain is only 8,304 feet high, but it is a favorite of the locals because the trail is a six mile loop, it is close to town, and is has a longer open season due to the lower altitude. It was a really fun hike, and there were stone chairs at the top. If I lived here I would run this loop a few times a week. We hiked in our trail shoes, which let us run some of the flats and downhills. We met a couple of locals, Tedessa and Peggy, who reminded us of Laverne and Shirley.
• Williams Lake This is probably the most popular hike in Taos. It starts at the ski area and is less than two miles to the lake, which is beautiful and surrounded by the tallest peaks in New Mexico. We have done this hike multiple times and even camped at the lake, but it is our excuse to eat at the Bavarian Lodge at the ski area so it gets repeated every couple of trips. The first time we did this hike it didn’t seem easy, but now it is and we understand why we see toddlers and elderly people with canes doing it.

Runs:

Running is difficult in Taos because of the altitude. I don’t have any problem with altitude until I have to run up a hill. As our house was up a mile long hill, this meant driving to run and we found two great spots where the altitude didn’t affect me (Ed has more of a problem with it).

• West Rim Trail This is a singletrack trail along the Rio Grande Gorge. It’s flat, a little rocky, and beautiful. No shade, so we went early, which meant we were there when the hot air balloons were making their dips in to the gorge. I ran eight miles, and Ed did about six. I would have gone further but there was no one else out past the four mile mark so I turned around for safety. Never felt out of breath.
  
• Ski Road Usually when we drive out we take bikes, and I always ride up the road to the Ski Valley at least once (Ed is too chicken to try this). This time we flew, so no bikes, and I knew I couldn’t run eight miles uphill to 9,000 feet. But I could run down! We took turns dropping each other off and running down. I did the full eight miles, and Ed did four. It was really fun, but as runners know, running downhill makes for some pretty sore leg muscles.

Other outdoor activities:

We have already done many of the outdoorsy things to do in Taos, including fly fishing, rock climbing, backpacking and hiking. The two things we would like to do and haven’t are a balloon ride and horseback riding in the mountains. We keep deferring the balloon ride because it is expensive, and the horseback riding just never happened this trip. So that left us with:

• Bouldering at Tres Piedras This is a fun climbing area with a lot of big boulders to clamber over, so we spent some time doing that and then drove over to Ojo Caliente for lunch.

Restaurants:

Taos has fantastic restaurants for a town its size. Since we hadn’t been there for two years, some restaurants had closed, but more had opened.

• Martyrs Steakhouse (new) This is right on the main drag in a historic adobe building that had been redone. We went twice, once for lunch and once for dinner at the bar. The food was excellent.
• Taos Mesa Brewing (new) As we drove into town from the Albuquerque airport after dark, we ordered a pizza from our favorite place (yes, we have the number and our order stored in our phones). I ran in to pick it up, and noticed they had beer from this place we had never heard of on tap. When we drove out to the Rio Grande to run, we passed a new building on the mesa, a huge quonset hut with sculptures and a disc golf course. It was a brewery! We had lunch there twice. A great addition and while we didn’t make it out when there was live music, it had both an indoor and a stage.
  
• Old Martina’s Hall (new) We heard this advertised on the radio and saw it in the Best of Taos guide, but it is in Rancho de Taos, which is on the other side of Taos from where we were staying. But on our way out of town the last morning, it was the one breakfast option with somewhere to park, so we took it. It was good, and fun to see another historic adobe building that had been renovated. It is across the street from a historic church that we visited last trip. A funny aside: all week when I heard the ads on the radio, I thought it was Old Martinez Hall, and just now I found out that it was it used to be years ago, it’s just a coincidence that the person who restored it to the new place is named Martina. But I can call the new name ironic, right?
• Love Apple I think this is my favorite restaurant in Taos. It is in an old adobe church on the north side of town (where we usually stay), and the menu changes based on what is available locally. Love it.
• Lambert’s This is Ed’s favorite, and my second favorite. The food is excellent, the service is even better. Since we were here last it moved to a more central location, right near the plaza. As we left, a skunk walked by. Weird.
• Gutiz We drove by this place for years before trying it, because it said it was Latin-French fusion and that sounded ambiguous. It turns out it’s more Spanish, with an in-house bakery. We’ve eaten lunch and breakfast there, and it’s excellent. Breakfast this time.
• Caffe Tazza This is just a coffee shop with food right off the main drag in the historic district. I’d noticed it before but we’d never tried it. This trip we were gallery hopping after a hike and I was thirsty, so we stopped in. It was perfectly fine for a bottle of water and it looked like the coffee and food were good, but what odd clientele. There were a couple of goth girls licking lollipops, and then a really sketchy guy with both a knife and a gun holstered asking if he could start a tab who then walked to an empty lot behind the place where it looked like he was living, and then a really agitated guy who was nervous about us, and hopped everywhere on one foot. We went to sit out back, and it smelled like something died back there and a lot of flies. An odd experience that must involve drugs. Now as I read up on the place, I think it might be better to go back at night when they have music or poetry readings and the “characters” don’t seem so out of place.
• Artesian Restaurant at Ojo Caliente Ojo Caliente is a mineral springs resort south west of Taos. We have been there for the springs once, but this was our third time at the restaurant. It’s really good. It was generally in the way of Tres Piedras where we went bouldering, closer to Ghost Ranch.
• Bavarian Lodge The Bavarian is a German lodge and restaurant near the ski area. It’s at the base of one of the runs, but not owned by the resort. It’s really good when you are hungry from hiking or skiing, and you can usually sit outside year round. That is why we did the Williams Lake hike. The Bavarian is pretty much the trailhead. We usually  get the kaese spatzle and the mixed sausage platter to split. And some German beer. Yum. We have noticed that in the summer this is a regular gathering spot for post-hike local retirees, and this year it was funny because we were discussing the Americas Cup and then noticed that a table of older locals was wearing New Zealand caps. Apparently the New Zealand boat was designed by a local’s kid?
  
• Pizaños Great pizza with a great view of Taos Mountain. When we drive out, we buy a pizza here the night before we leave, and then throw the box into the car right behind the passenger’s seat in the morning. That way we can eat without stopping. Works out great.
• Taos Cow This is an ice cream shop in Arroyo Seco, between Taos and the Ski Valley. The first time we visited Taos, we stayed in a house near here. They have great coffee and sandwiches, plus the ice cream which is what got them started. But holy Taos Cow, gourmet ice cream is expensive. Remember when we used to by it by the gallon?  When they’re charging $7 for a pint it doesn’t seem so bad, but ….

Galleries:

We went to more galleries than this, but these were notable as single artist galleries where we actually got to talk to the artists.

• Greg Moon Art
• Wheeler Studio & Gallery
• Living Light Gallery

House:

• Coyote Mountain
  

Then we had a déjà vu moment when we remembered the power went out the last night the last time we stayed in this house. So at least we knew where the hurricane lantern and candles were (also we always travel with headlamps and LED lights). We cooked our dinner by candlelight and it just came back on as we finished.

Anyway here is the photo I was trying to post while the UPS was beeping.

The hike was a little over five miles with about 4,100 total elevation gain. It was a tough hike. It only takes two photos to show how tough.

Before the summit.

After the summit.

It is in the foothills of some of the peaks near Taos Ski Valley. It is one mile up a steep, rutted dirt road with switchbacks and just one house, this one. The road was built, buried electricity and phone lines were put in and addresses assigned so houses could be built, but so far our house is still the only one here. Sure, it’s a little isolated, but it’s quiet and dark at night. The stars are phenomenal with no lighted houses around. It is high enough to have a view of all of the valley and the town of Taos out the front. In the back, we can gaze up to some of our favorite mountains.

It is a house I could live in just as it is, with all of these strangers’ belongings and all. It is a new adobe, just one bathroom and one bedroom, with a loft upstairs with a futon and a desk.

The loft has windows on all four sides, and a deck which affords wonderful views of the sunsets Taos is famous for.

In the morning we watch the hot air balloons dipping down into the Rio Grande Gorge.

The kitchen is small, and has no dishwasher, garbage disposal, or microwave, but somehow we don’t mind at all. The dishes are the same Russell Wright style we had as kids, and the linens and many of the utensils are vintage as well. The stove is an antique gas model converted to use propane.

No TV, no stereo, but they do have DSL. They have very interesting art and have added many great touches such as imported carved doors and built in drawers.

The owner is a Hollywood writer, and I am writing this in his little writer’s cottage behind the house. The cottage even has a woodstove for the winter.

All around the house as far as we can see are trees. We bring our camping hammock and string it up anywhere we want to.

I love this little house and I think it is the only house we have rented that I really wish I owned. I could get to the ski area in no time, could cross-country ski right out the back door, and could run, bike and hike the all the great trails nearby. And despite the hassle of the unimproved mountain road, it is still easy to get into the village of Arroyo Seco and the town of Taos. I wonder if these folks would like a neighbor?

UPDATED: Here’s the satellite view of the house.

So today, instead of earning any money by actually working, I decided to check out the recently posted 1940 census.

Unfortunately this census has not been indexed by Mormons yet, so I was stuck with sleuthing through old scanned documents. Kind of fun, kind of frustrating. But I did manage to find both baby Mom and baby Dad.

And the best thing was, the maps they used to create the census zones (and which I used to find the right documents) were made by Great-Grandpa Batterman!

As an aside, this got me thinking about the differences between traveling alone or with someone else. Alone there are no compromises, but also fewer surprises. I like both modes.

Anyhow. Amsterdam has several world class museums, the most famous being the Rijksmuseum. I visited it in 1984, and my journal tells me that I was a bit bored by this enormous collection. I still dislike the be-all-to-everyone style big city museums, and so does Ed, so it was easy to convince him to visit the nearby Van Gogh Museum instead. We both enjoy single artist museums; they are far more informative and relaxing.

The museum was quite good. We saw many familiar paintings, and especially appreciated our close-up look at this self portrait:

I always like exhibits showing the sleuthing done to uncover the painting process – previous works that were painted over, etc., and there was plenty of that here. The museum also had prints from its collection on display, and I loved the woodcuts of Félix Vallotton, particularly his Exposition Universelle series.

After the museum, we took a tram to Amsterdam Centraal so Ed could see a big European train station. This brought back memories for me, and I really wanted to hop on a train and zoom off to another country. It also, somewhat disturbingly, reminded me of Harry Potter.

Next we walked over to the Red Light District. Ed had stated that he wasn’t interested in seeing it, but I made him go. Even though it was daytime, there were scantily dressed women beckoning from windows. His comment: “They’re actually pretty!” We also saw some of the famous cafes where pot smoking is allowed.

By this time we were freezing, so maximizing Amsterdam meant finding a nice warm pub. We headed back over to  the Jordaan section of town and settled on the Wester Cafe, across the canal from Anne Frank’s house and Westerkirk. I had a couple of De Konincks, and Ed had several La Chouffes. We also had a snack platter of bitterballen, kaastengles, and vlammetjes. It’s not important what these are other than fried bar snacks, but we did get into a debate about what the gooey center of a bitterballen is. I thought it was sausage and lard, and Ed thought it was pea soup. I was closer to the truth. They were good though. At some point a bartender lowered a giant screen and the Manchester United v. Chelsea game came on and Ed declared that he wanted to stay in Amsterdam forever and ever.

It turns out it is difficult to maximize Amsterdam when it is so cold, and we probably stayed in the pub longer than we normally would have, but eventually we had to head out toward the tram station. As we crossed the canal though, we noticed that a lot of people were out skating. After watching for awhile, Ed and I crawled through a small boat and onto the ice ourselves. Our low-traction shoes were as good as skates, and we skidded and spun around as the bells of Westerkirk began ringing. It was wonderful to be a part of the joyful twilight laughter.

Amersterdam, maximized.

This was an especially hard trip to pack for. The forecast for Amsterdam was “below freezing”, and the forecast for Kenya was “on the equator”. That said, I packed better than I have in years. For once I started several days ahead, and it helped that we had an itinerary for much of the trip, so I could go through the itinerary and make sure I could dress for each piece of it with something out of the suitcase. Usually I just throw in my favorite clothes and cross my fingers. This time I didn’t pack anything I didn’t wear at least once, and was never without proper clothes. And I still had room left in the suitcase, which turned out to be important.

The last time I was in Amsterdam was twenty-eight years ago (!) when I backpacked around Europe in college. Ed had never been to continental Europe at all. All of the things I liked about the city were still true, and we both loved it this time.

The people in Amsterdam are noticeably happier than in many cities. I’m not sure why, but maybe it’s because there it is an active outdoor population. The bikes in the city are legendary. Every sidewalk and bridge is lined with parked bikes. Cyclists far outnumber car drivers. The city is bustling with pedestrians. Even though we landed in freezing fog and new snow covered the ground, it seemed that everybody was out and about, laughing and enjoying the frigid but sunny morning. We saw tiny children bundled in striped snowsuits, striped hats, striped mittens and striped scarves, strapped on their backs to sleds like little Guatemalan worry dolls, being pulled along the streets. Other children were plopped onto bikes in an unending variety of configurations because yes, people were riding their bikes on the snow-covered streets, not a helmet to be seen anywhere (even in the bike shops I checked).

Since we arrived in early morning and could not check into our room until afternoon, we stowed our bags at the hotel and headed out to walk around. We decided to visit the Anne Frank house, and got there just before the line started to grow. I had been there before, and as we climbed the narrow steps to the annex attic it was strange to think that my twenty-one year-old feet had probably landed in the exact same spots decades earlier. Not much changes in a historical building, so the memories of it came back easily.

From there we walked to the Dam and Palace. Oddly, there were several people dressed as horror movie characters in the Dam having their pictures taken with tourists.

The temperature range for the day was 0 to 19 degrees Fahrenheit, with the low a record. Ed and I wore our down coats over fleeces, and had hats and mittens, but it was still bitterly cold coming from the mild Dallas winter. We were happy to stop in a tiny place called Cafe t’Molentje for some paninis and pints. The bartender was playing old vinyl LPs as we people-watched out the window.

And then we walked to the hotel, checked in and napped for three hours. Ahhhhhh….

For dinner we went to a place called Restaurant De Ondeugd in De Pijp (a neighborhood near our hotel). It was excellent. I had cod with lavender gravy and lemon-herb risotto. Marvelous. Ed also had a white fish, but it was the catch of the day so we didn’t “catch” the name, and the staff did not know how to translate it to English. Somehow, even though gin is allegedly a Dutch invention, we had trouble throughout the trip getting a martini. The best we managed was a pour out of a dusty Gordon’s bottle in a lowball glass.

To be continued.

It had been over two weeks since my last long run. My attempts at shorter runs hurt and I always cut them even shorter. It felt like I had forgotten how to run. It felt like I was losing all of my hard-earned fitness. How would I ever run 26.2 miles?

I injured my hip trying to run too fast a couple of days after my 19-mile training run. I took some days off, was able to complete the next 12-mile run, took more days off, and was able to run 20-miles, but after that I struggled. Finally I went to see a sports chiropractor at the recommendation of a friend. This was the just five days before I was to fly out. She got my hip straightened out (literally, and the sound of this was like a pistol), did a lot of work on the muscles I had subsequently pulled trying to run on the thing, and taught me how to tape the muscles to give them support when I ran. But was this enough? I still felt some pain when I tried to run, so decided that my taper would just be a rest.

Then Wednesday before the marathon I felt like I was getting a urinary tract infection. Uh-oh. My first instinct was to drink a lot of water and wait it out. With the marathon coming up though, I thought better of it and tracked down a clinic where I could get treatment. The doctor there told me it was a good thing I did that, because the infection was actually pretty bad. I got antibiotics, which started helping right away. Until Friday morning, when I woke up and felt the symptoms were back. Only two days until marathon! I called the clinic from the car on the way to the marathon expo, and stopped to get a new prescription. Luckily that one did the trick.

Besides being a bit anxious about the race itself, I worried about the logistics of getting there and back. Mom and Dad had offered to drive, but figuring out the route and the parking and the timing was complicated. Luckily Dad took the reins on this and decided we could probably get close to the start by taking the parkway in. This worked great; I could drop my bag at the gear check and get to my corral without too much walking. We left about 5am and I was at the start in time to watch the walkers go off at 6. This left plenty of time to use the port-a-potties before the lines started (of more concern than usual to me). It was misting a bit, and when it started to be more of a drizzle, I donned my throwaway rain poncho to keep dry while I waited.

The start went well. The marathon folks had announced that they would be enforcing the corrals this year, meaning that you had to start in a group based on the pace you declared at registration. This made a lot of people upset, at least those who had underestimated their pace before they started training. But it didn’t cause any problems. Unlike other races I’ve been in, I actually crossed the start line running. Since they were using chip timing, it didn’t matter how long it took to get to the start; official times were based on when we crossed the starting line.

A quick self-assessment as I started to run. I could feel a slight twinge in my left hip with each step, but not enough to cause me to limp or feel that I couldn’t continue. Whew. I remembered how easy it is to be swept along at the beginning of a marathon and go too fast, so I checked my pace on my Garmin very frequently. I had to slow myself down every time, and even so my first mile split time was faster than I wanted it to be.

Big events like this can be a little emotional. I felt my first swell of excitement Friday at the expo when I saw my name on a big wall with all the runners’ names on it. I felt the second just after the start when I passed near the building I used to work in (and the bar around the corner where we would go to happy hour). I teared up a little, and then laughed because I was usually so stressed at that job. As we headed out of downtown and into the Strip, one of the 12 runners who have run the marathon every year started singing “The Banana Boat Song”, and other runners started singing along. Everybody was laughing. We ran under a wide overpass and everybody yelled out to hear their echo. I knew it was going to be a fun day.

The first part of the course was an out-and-back through the Strip, out on Liberty and back on Penn. I think the only fault I found in the route was this, because we covered some of this same ground at the end, too. But it wasn’t too long, there were lots of bands and there were bagpipers at the Harp & Fiddle, and then we crossed the 16th Street Bridge to the North Side. This marathon crosses four bridges, and while I love that about it, bridges are hills. Sometimes steep hills. Anyway, across the bridge was a church, and on the church steps a gospel choir was singing. It was very inspiring. At this point I was smiling and really enjoying myself. Despite the rain, there were a lot of spectators with signs. You see some of the same signs over and over, but I only saw one person with a giant Charlie Sheen sign with smaller signs that said “Tiger Blood!” and “Winning!” That made me laugh.

Lot of corners to turn in the North Side, and then we crossed the West End Bridge (steep) over to the West End. This was the first time the marathon went through the West End, and they were excited about it. They were having a big neighborhood festival with lots of grilling and music. There was also a zombie.

Next we turned along the Monongahela River toward the South Side. Before we reached Station Square, we passed a big group of Marines who were passing out high-fives. I crossed over to give them some smacks. I had originally planned on having a sign that said “It’s my birthday” on my shirt, but when I got injured I was worried that it would be depressing if I had to walk or take the SAG wagon in and everybody knew it was my birthday. Now I wish I’d done it. As it was, I shouted to the Marines “It’s my birthday!” which was probably kind of pathetic. Uh-oh, I think I ran too fast through the high-five line. Better check the GPS. Oops, going two minutes per mile faster than I’m supposed to. Sloooooooow down. I could feel that in my lungs for awhile afterward.

It was fun running past the inclines and Station Square, and the view of the city over there is great. Running through the South Side was fun too. A higher than average number of people were in costumes, and I ran past some of our old hangouts like Fathead’s and the Rex. The half-marathon folks split off to return to downtown (the wimps) and suddenly the crowd was so much thinner. It was actually kind of nice.

The crux of this marathon is the hill just across the Birmingham Bridge into Oakland. This is at mile 11. It’s a long hill, and people fear it, but both times I’ve run this I’ve thought it’s not so bad. Really, you couldn’t have a flatter course in Pittsburgh than this one. There are hills, but if you’re from Pittsburgh, you can’t avoid training on them anyway. I chatted with a woman from Plum on the hill. My split says I kept my pace here, maybe even a little fast. At the top I said to a guy “That wasn’t so bad” and he said “Yeah, I hope I didn’t take it too fast though” and I worried about that a bit. I don’t think it hurt me though.

Surprisingly, Oakland did not have that many spectators. I guess the kids were still in bed. We passed Pitt and CMU, and I remembered one of my mental weapons. Aron Ralston (of 127 Hours fame) was speaking at CMU’s commencement that very day. I knew that ahead of time and decided to remind myself when things got tough that he had to spend days alone trapped by his dead arm before cutting it off, and he had to drink his own urine. I just had to run a couple more hours. And little kids were handing me Gatorade any time I wanted it.

Shadyside was next, another area with a lot of great memories. There was the card shop we shopped at, and Doc’s! And then I came to the area where Mom and Dad had planned to wait for me, between miles 15 and 16. I spotted them way before they spotted me. I was actually jumping and waving while I ran. I stopped for a bit to say hi and pick up some fuel, then set off again.

I was dreading the next section, through Homewood, a bit. It’s a fairly drab neighborhood. But as I got to the residential part of it, I remembered that the people here are the best. They were barbecuing and cheering, having a great time. Also, a greyhound rescue organization had dogs out “cheering” in this section. They were great to see. About this time I started to get some cramping in my feet and lower calves. I have never had this before, even in my training runs of this distance and more. I’m not sure what caused it; I don’t think I was dehydrated and I was getting electrolytes. It may have been my shoelaces were too loose and I was clenching my toes a bit. I tightened them and concentrated on NOT curling my toes. I noticed it at least once more during the race, but they never cramped to the point of pain.

Highland Park was a blur. I remember seeing where La Foret used to be; it’s another restaurant now. I remember thinking I couldn’t even see the city, I have a long way to go. Soon after, I had another emotional moment. I passed the store where my crib and other baby furniture was purchased. On my birthday. I didn’t expect that.

I was anxious to get to Friendship, were Ed used to live. We ran by the end of his street, but I forgot to look up it until it was behind me. I think at this point (mile 21) my brain was a bit fried. There was one more uphill at this point (well, apart from the bridge at the end), between Friendship and Bloomfield, and then the downhill that kind of killed me last time. But I was feeling better than last time. At one point in these last few miles I did feel a bit nauseous, but it passed quickly. I dragged out some of my other mental tricks. I remembered Louie Zamperini, the hero of the book Unbroken, who was shot down in World War II, survived in a life raft for weeks, fighting sharks with his bare hands, starving, until he finally drifted to an island. Where he was captured by the Japanese and tortured as a POW. He survived, and so could I in my little marathon, which he could also have beaten me at because he was an Olympic runner. I also told myself that if I didn’t finish, or if I walked, I would have to do this all over again. Also, if I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t get a medal and I couldn’t wear my marathon shirt. Notice how all of my tricks are of the “get over yourself” variety instead of inspirational? That’s because they work for me, and the inspirational ones just make me roll my eyes when the going gets tough.

Bloomfield was fun, they were having an Italian festival and there were a lot of people out. I passed a lot of restaurants and shops that I remembered, including Iron Elegance, where were purchased a lot of garden and home art we still have. At mile 23 I passed the old Pittsburgh Brewing Company (Iron City) plant, which is a beautiful old brick building. Across the street is The Church Brew Works, a restaurant and brewpub in an old church. People here (I found out later it was the Hash House Harriers) were handing out small cups of beer. I drank some just to say I did. It actually tasted good, something different. At this point I was running downhill, feeling like I had this, actually still slowing myself down from time to time so I wouldn’t kill my quads.

Heading back through the Strip again was the hardest part for me. The streets are numbered, and I knew the last bridge to the finish line was at 6th Street, so having to pass 29th, then 28th, etc. was painful. Finally though, the Roberto Clemente Bridge. It’s a cruel bridge, steep at 26 miles. As I turned toward the finish line at the other end, I could see two overhead banners, about twenty feet apart. I remember thinking “The finish better be the first one, because I can’t make it to the second”. Luckily it was. I got my medal and I was just a few steps past the finish when I heard someone say my name. It was Debbie D! She was a volunteer at the finish line, and although her shift was over, she knew I was running and had another friend running, so had waited. Plus her car was trapped by closed roads. This was great. Debbie walked me to the various food and water stations, and got my bag from the gear check for me. She helped me juggle all of my stuff so I could put my flip-flops on. Surprisingly, my feet did not hurt at all, but my shoes were soaked so having the flip-flops was great. I had my picture taken, got my Eat ’n Park smiley cookie and a bagel, and called mom and dad.

What’s harder than steel? The last 6 miles.

Post-race summary: This experience was so much better than my first. I am much older, but beat my younger self time by 43 minutes (the weather was a big part of that, admittedly). From a base of no running at all, I was able to train to the marathon in about 20 weeks. I placed in the top half of my age group, and just below the middle of all women. The last part was very hard, but it’s hard to really remember what it felt like now. It seems like it went by quickly, but I do remember having to count off those numbered streets at the end, so I know it didn’t seem like it at the time. I loved seeing my name in the paper the next day, and loved that it was at the top of a column. There was a big picture on the front of the marathon section of runners going by as the Duquesne Incline went up, and I am pretty sure I am in the picture. My hip seemed to improve during the run. It was pretty sore the next day though (along with my muscles). I was able to get to the chiropractor three days after the marathon and she was glad to see the joint had stayed put. It feels pretty good now. I am back to exercising but am going to continue to wait before running again. But yesterday, I got some new running shoes.

It is hot here. I took my long run (19 miles) yesterday at 7:30am, and it was getting warm at the end (75° ), but tolerable. Today Ed and I went out to breakfast and were surprised to find Swiss Avenue blocked for a marathon. I didn’t know there was a marathon this weekend; the major Dallas marathon is the White Rock Marathon in December. Anyway, those poor runners. It was much warmer today, and windy. By the time the runners at my pace finished, if indeed any did, it was about 90°, with winds of 21mph. Ugh. We gave in Friday and used our air conditioner for the first time. Up until now we’ve managed with opening the windows at night when it’s cool. Other years we’ve been able to hold until sometime in May, but not this year. Ninety-five percent of the state is also already in drought.

Driven in part by our next-door-neighbors putting their house on the market, Ed and I have been on a yard improvement binge. We’ve been gardening and adding solar lights and furniture. Everything is looking great just in time for stay-inside-with-the-air-conditioning season. Here is part of the little zen garden I made in the back. It has a stone path through two beds of Lysimachia Nummularia, some rocks, some rusty things, and a Japanese maple.

Now that it is spring and asparagus may be in season where you are, you should try this recipe for Straw and Hay Fettuccine Tangle with Spring Asparagus Puree from the cookbook “Super Natural Cooking”. This asparagus/spinach sauce is really good and refreshing, much lighter than pesto. And, it freezes very well. I freeze it in a muffin tin just like pesto. Another way to use it is in risotto. I make my baked risotto, and then at the end toss in two pucks of this sauce that I’ve let defrost at least somewhat. Then I top it with some shaved cheese and additional roasted nuts. Easy! By the way, I use roasted blanched almonds instead of pine nuts because I like them better and they’re cheaper, and I also sometimes use asiago as the cheese. And note that only part of the nuts actually go into the puree, I sometimes forget that. Try it!